Necessary Evil

Chapter 12

'' It helps a man to know himself,'' Grandfather had explained as he removed things from his pack in the narrow beam of an old flashlight. He lit two torches, one at either end of the pool, then sat cross-legged on the flat stone next to the water's edge. In the dancing light of the torches, the place took on an eerie, magical quality.

At first Kier expected a story, but Grandfather simply asked him to look in the pool. The most respected leader of the Tiloks sat straight as an iron pipe, seemingly lost in thought. Kier studied the lines that already had begun to wishbone around his grandfather's mouth. From his face he could discern nothing of what was to come.

Kier could not see the bottom of the oval pool; shadows blackened its surface, hid its rocky bottom from sight. The darkened water's seamless mirror reflected the torches.

"Get closer," Grandfather said, moving nearer the pool.

Kier did the same. At the edge, he found a perfect reflection.

"What do you see?"

"I see me."

"Is yours a good face?"

Kier studied himself, realizing that he hadn't thought about it. A broad, squared-off chin gave him a look of strength, even at age thirteen. He supposed he liked his face. Perhaps his eyelids drooped slightly because he had secrets. He did things that were forbidden. Although his mother did not know, he slipped out even on school nights to go into the forest. He wondered if Grandfather suspected. Kier looked away from the pond, nervous. Perhaps such things couldn't be hidden from his grandfather. Everybody said he knew everything-never missed a thing in the woods. It was said that even crickets were safe when Grandfather walked by, so sure was he of every step he took.

''What do you see in your eyes?''

Kier fidgeted. Now he knew Grandfather could read his face as plainly as if he'd admitted to sneaking out at night. What they said was true. Grandfather was a Spirit Walker. Kier still said nothing, his heart starting to hammer in his chest. Words wouldn't come.

Grandfather waited. Kier's eyes returned to the pool. He tried not to think of the secrets. His body felt smaller. With hunched shoulders, he looked again at Grandfather, who appeared to have hardened to stone. Silence stretched before him like a desert road shimmering to the horizon.

He's thinking about me. He knows about the secrets and he's just waiting.

Could Grandfather know about the trips to Lotta's? She lived a little way into the forest in a cabin. Kier sometimes went there at night. Kier's face got hot. Usually he went exploring, looking for tracks. Occasionally though, he went to the cabin and watched Lotta's shadow against the shade as she brushed her hair.

When finally he looked up again, Grandfather's form seemed to reach the top of the cave. Something needed to be said, but he didn't know what to say. Tears wanted to spring from his eyes. With all his energy, he froze his countenance. To cry would be unthinkable.

"What is your fear?'' No longer did his grandfather's expression seem hard.

"I don't know… what makes me feel unhappy sometimes."

After a moment, Grandfather spoke. "So, tell me, if you could change one thing about your life, what would you change?"

That was easy. "Father."

"Tell me."

"He left us and got killed."

"And do you wonder why he left?"

"I don't know if I think about it."

''Why do you think your father left?'' Grandfather persisted.

Kier felt his shoulders fall, a sort of shrug in response to the question. His mind wandered. He felt tired all of a sudden, as though he wanted to sleep.

"Do you think about why your father left?"

Kier let his mind drift. He just wanted to go home.

"Your father did not accidentally shoot himself, nor was he shot by the man who struggled with him. A government man killed him thinking he was someone else. Your father never really left you."

Kier could not believe his ears. He knew his stinging eyes betrayed him.

"Your father was visiting friends in Arizona. When he walked out of your house, he intended to come back. He was just going away for a time, to think. The FBI was looking for an Indian man who looked something like your father. The man they were hunting had been in the house your father was visiting. When your father showed up, well… they had the wrong man."

Kier felt sick. "Why didn't someone tell me? How do you know he was coming back?"

"I talked to him after he left-"

''But Mother said… She said he might not ever have come back."

"It's probably what your mother believes. She warned him not to go. There was bitterness in her when he was killed. A bitterness that he didn't listen to her. You remember the day your father left, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"You thought he was angry with you."

"He yelled. He pounded my wrists on the sink."

''So you thought maybe you were part of the reason he went away."

''I don't know." So much had changed in just a few seconds. "Why didn't someone tell me?"

"You were young. Your mother didn't want you bitter with hate."

"But my mother said he left."

''Your mother is a good woman, but stubborn, hotheaded. Your father would have come back. They would have talked. Everything would have been fine. He went away once before in the spring of the year. Sometimes you know how your mother gets."

"Yes. But I asked her-"

"And she told you all the time that he went off mad and got himself killed."

"But I didn't know… I mean… I thought…"

"You thought you were the reason he left, that maybe you had done something. And he was never coming back. I promise you that your father loved you and never would have left you."

Kier thought about what Grandfather said. The kids at school, always wanting to know why he didn't have a dad, said things. This was all such a relief. Or at least it seemed so at the moment. If only someone would have told him sooner.

"What happened?"

"FBI man got anxious. He thought your father was someone else. Two Indian men started fighting, and the FBI man shot in the night. He killed your father, who was trying to stop the fighting, trying to calm the situation."

"What happened to this FBI man?"

''Nothing. And nothing will ever be done. They claimed that one of the Indians your father was trying to stop had a gun. There was an investigation… testimony… but in the end they said the bullet was lost before it could be tested. The government people swore no one from their group fired a shot.''

Kier sat and stared at the pool, at his own eyes, promising himself that he would never make his father's mistake. He would never trust the white man's police.

As the years passed, Grandfather's explanation seemed to raise more questions than it answered. And the words never answered the need of his psyche to know why. Not why his father had died, nor why the FBI man was never punished, but why he could never touch his father's heart.