Vermilion Drift

TWENTY-FOUR

He found Isaiah Broom among the protesters at the gate to the Vermilion One Mine, although, in truth, Broom wasn’t exactly “among” the protesters. He’d separated from them and stood blocking the progress of a huge pickup truck that belonged to Great North Mining Company and that was trying to reach the gate. Cork pulled off the road, parked, and, as soon as he got out, he could hear the heat of the discussion.

“You’re women, but you work for a company that rapes the earth,” Broom challenged.

“You’re a man, but you’re going to be dickless if you don’t move out of our way” came a reply from inside the cab.

That was followed by another from the cab: “Hell, he’s probably already dickless, Bobbi.”

Cork knew the voices. The Noon sisters, two women no man in his right mind would cross. Not only was Broom in contempt of the restraining order, but he was baring his chest to she wolves.

Before Cork reached the pickup, the women had opened their doors and stepped out. Kitty Noon held a baseball bat. Bobbi Noon gripped a tire iron. They both were dressed basically the same: faded jeans, work boots, ball caps, and denim shirts with the sleeves rolled high enough because of the heat to show impressive biceps. In the glare of the midday sun, they faced Isaiah Broom, a wall of a man.

“We’re just a couple of peace-loving females, Broom. And right now we’d love nothing more than a piece of you,” Bobbi said.

Broom didn’t give an inch, and Cork had to admit those dark Shinnob eyes showed no glimmer of fear. In Broom’s place, Cork would’ve been thinking about the state of his health plan.

“Lunch is just about over,” Kitty said. “A couple of minutes from now, we’ve got to punch back in. Got work to do on the other side of that gate. Every second we’re late you pay for, Broom, one way or another.”

“Hey, Kitty. Broom doesn’t get out of our way, what do you say we make him our afternoon work? Maybe use him as fill for a pothole or something.”

The two sisters laughed.

Broom said, “You can do violence to me. That would be a small crime. But the violence to Grandmother Earth is another kind of crime. And the violence a nuclear waste dump would do to generations after us, that’s the greatest crime of all.”

Kitty laid the bat over her shoulder and looked like a hitter waiting her turn at the plate. “We’re not arguing your point, Broom, just your tactic. You’re not winning yourself or your cause any friends by keeping a couple of breadwinners from jobs that put food on the table.”

“You got a problem with dumping nuclear waste here, fine,” Bobbi said. “The idea doesn’t exactly make me do somersaults. But our work has nothing to do with that. So kindly step aside and let us pass.”

Broom stood his ground. “If not us, who?” he said, more to the crowd than to the sisters. “If not now, when?”

“You know, you’re beginning to piss me off,” Kitty said and un-shouldered her bat.

The gathering of protesters clearly didn’t know which side to root for: Broom, big as a bear, or the two women, tornadoes in tight jeans.

Cork approached on foot and said, “Isaiah, you don’t stand aside, you’re in contempt of the restraining order.”

“And who’d blame us for kicking your ass?” Bobbi said.

Broom crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m willing to be arrested for doing the right thing.”

“Nobody doubts that, Isaiah,” Cork said. “But why not save that move for when the big trucks roll up carrying the nuclear waste? It’ll get a lot more play in the media than a confrontation with two women.”

Kitty turned on Cork. “You saying we don’t count?”

Bobbi said, “Relax, Kitty. He’s on our side.”

Cork said, “I’m not taking sides here. I’m just saying consider which battles you fight, Isaiah. You really want the news story to be that you got knocked around by a couple of working females just trying to put food on the table for their families?”

“Let ’em pass,” one of the protesters hollered.

Broom held his ground for a moment more, then lowered his arms and stepped out of the way.

The two sisters started back to the pickup.

“Thanks, Cork,” Bobbi said.

Kitty still looked pissed. “You ever insinuate that women don’t count in a confrontation, I’ll shove this ball bat up your ass, understand?”

“I read you loud and clear, Kitty.”

“Good,” she said. She opened the driver’s door, threw the ball bat inside, and said over her shoulder to Cork, “Next time we see you at the Buzz Saw, your beer’s on us.”

The sisters slammed the doors shut. The engine kicked over, and the big pickup rolled through the front gate.

“Got a minute, Isaiah?” Cork asked.

“Fuck you, O’Connor.” Broom started back to join the other protesters.

“I have a question about one of your relatives. Indigo.”

That stopped Broom in his tracks. He turned to Cork and, for a Shinnob, showed an unseemly amount of emotion.

“Why the hell are you asking about him?”

A car approached on the highway where the two men stood. It gave a little warning honk.

“Let’s talk over there.” Cork pointed toward his Land Rover.

They cleared the asphalt, and the car drove past. The protesters settled back into their canvas chairs or returned to quiet conversations in small groups. Cork walked to his Land Rover with Broom fuming at his side.

“You ever mention that name again and I’ll beat you within an inch of your life,” Broom swore.

“He was a relative of yours, right?”

“My mother’s cousin. What’s it to you?”

“According to Millie Joseph, he disappeared about the same time the Vanishings ended.”

“So?”

“Just wondering if there might have been some connection.”

“Between him and the Vanishings?” Broom seemed genuinely surprised but not offended.

“Isaiah, has the sheriff talked to you about the remains they found in the Vermilion Drift?”

“What about ’em?”

“They’ve positively identified all but one of the bodies. The one still remaining? I think there’s a good chance it’s your mother.”

“My mother?”

“Millie Joseph told me your mother disappeared just before the Vanishings began. Everyone thought that she’d taken off, abandoned you. I believe that wasn’t true. I believe she was one of the first victims. And I believe that Indigo Broom may have had something to do with it.”

Broom was stunned to silence. He stood there, a big man with his mouth open.

Cork went on. “Millie Joseph called Indigo Broom ‘Mr. Windigo.’ She told me he was a man folks on the rez avoided. Did you know him?”

Now Broom’s mouth closed and his eyes became hard as fists. “I knew him,” he said, his lips barely moving.

“What happened to him?”

“He left.”

“And went where?”

“I didn’t care.”

“Did anyone ever say?”

“No. And no one gave a shit.”

“Not even his family?”

“Family? He fed on family.”

“What do you mean?”

Broom looked at Cork. “We called him Mr. Windigo, too.”

“Was he the kind of man who could have made those women disappear?”

Broom said, “I’ve talked enough.” He turned his back on Cork and began to walk away.

“Isaiah,” Cork called after him. “Are you responsible for the graffiti in the mine?”

Broom stopped and turned back.

Because the second entrance to the Vermilion Drift was on the rez, Cork had felt strongly from the beginning that a Shinnob was responsible. Although Cork’s question had been a shot in the dark, Broom’s reaction made him think he might have hit the mark.

“Which would mean you knew about the other way into the mine. Did you know about the remains?”

Broom walked slowly back and stood looking down into Cork’s face. The big Shinnob cast enough shadow that it completely swallowed Cork.

“I know nothing about those bodies down there. As for the graffiti, if I had anything to do with it, which I didn’t, I’d know that tunnel was about the most evil place on earth.”

Broom left, taking his huge shadow with him.