Life, 2.0
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2013 by Levi Charon

Frank spent four days in the hospital before they agreed to release him, probably because he was giving the nurses so much grief. A man who’s spent his whole life in the wide-open spaces isn’t likely to handle confinement very well. When she drove up to Casper to get him, Kasuma took along a fruit basket and five pounds of expensive chocolates for the nurses as some nominal compensation for what they had to put up with.

When Cheyenne and I went out to the ranch to visit, we were shocked at his appearance. His face was still horribly swollen and bruised, but his spirits were in good shape. Of course, his jaw was wired shut so he was on a liquid diet, but Kasuma was a wizard when it came to creating tasty things that could be sucked through a straw.

The real surprise came when a guy I hadn’t met came in the back door and introduced himself as Franky Cawley. He bore a strong resemblance to his dad (before the injury). He shook my hand and gave Cheyenne a little hug, saying, “Hey, short stuff, ain’t seen you in a while. I hear this guy (nodding toward me) has kicked me out of first place on your favorites list.”

“You wish! What makes you think you were ever on the list? Don’t you think you’re a bit old for a high school girl?”

“Hey, a guy can dream.”

“You just here visiting your old man, or are you up to some new mischief?”

He held up his right hand and swore, “I’m on my best behavior. I’ll be helpin’ Dad with the work ‘til he’s back to a hundred percent.”

Cheyenne is about as straight forward with her opinions as her mom. “So, what about all that stuff with Halbart? Don’t you have some legal issues to deal with up in Gillette?”

“Not any more. I guess when they heard about Moreno gettin’ arrested, they decided they didn’t wanna have no more to do with me. I mean, I still gotta pay ‘em back, but I’m not facin’ any charges.”

“Lucky you!”

I asked Kasuma, “Has Sheriff Garrett learned any more about Moreno?”

“Only that he seems to have split for parts unknown. Two days after he was arraigned on the attempted extortion charge and paid his bail, he cleaned out his bank account and moved out of his apartment. I guess he hasn’t been seen since. I wish I could feel comfortable with that, but I don’t. According to Spence, when they ran a background check for the investigation, they learned that he has a history of violence. I guess he beat the crap out of his ex a couple of times. I’m a little surprised Halbart even hired him, because I would have thought they’d vet their professional level personnel a little better than that.”

Frank mumbled something around his wired teeth and swollen tongue and Kasuma interpreted. “He says they’re all a bunch of crooks.”

“Amen to that!” Frankie laid his arm over his dad’s shoulder.

Kasuma laughed, “Like you have room to talk!”

Frank hissed out a laughed through the hardware in his mouth and smacked her on the butt.

Kasuma took my hand and said, “Come with me, bobby. I’ll show you around my museum, slash library, slash office.”

Museum is what struck me as I stepped in the door. The walls were covered with paintings and old photographs of Native Americans, as well as some beautiful examples of beadwork and primitive weapons. One wall was all bookshelves packed so full I doubted she could squeeze in even one more volume.

“Wow! This is impressive! I suppose you’ve read everything in here.”

“Most, but not all. Some of it is reference material I use for my research. Right now, I’m working on a comprehensive history of the major plains tribes.”

“Now that I’d like to read! Is there a copy of your book on the Arapaho?”

She opened a closet and took a copy out of a box and handed it to me. “My compliments.”

“Hey, thanks, Kasuma. This will be my reading for tonight. Is there any chance I could pick your brain about where I should be looking to get into cultural anthropology?”

“There’s nothing complicated about getting started. Why don’t you go with Cheyenne to UW? You need to get in all your undergrad requirements anyway, and that’s as good a school as any to start with. From what I hear, you two are already willing to share space and expenses, right?”


October moved into November, and we were once again settling into a comfortable routine. Cheyenne had taken to spending at least three nights a week in my room. Our lovemaking never seemed to lose any of its passion; quite the opposite. The fact that we didn’t have to sneak around to keep it a secret from Jackie or anybody else for that matter, made it all the more pleasant. We could openly do pretty much whatever we wanted as long as we didn’t exceed the bounds of public decency.

Since there was so much to get done before she went off to Laramie, Cheyenne followed Bachman’s advice and asked the school board to go ahead and issue her diploma. She’d be going to UW in January, and she wanted to spend as much time with Jackie and me as she could before the big move. She was also intent on finishing the excavation of her dienonychus (if that’s what it was) and getting it down to the lab where she’d be working with Bachman and his team to get it cleaned up.

 
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