Page 35 of God’s Country

“That’s it,” I said.

Stan seemed satisfied. “Get going, Indian.”

Before Cordell started away, I said to him, “Aangwaamizin.”

He nodded, and we watched him slowly, painfully make his way up the portage. When he was at the top, he turned, gave us one last look, then disappeared.

“What did you say to him?” Stan asked.

“Just told him to be careful.”

“And what about that game you mentioned to him?”

“We played basketball together in high school. He was our center, best player. A minute to go in the final quarter, we’re behind three points. Cordell fouls out. We think the game is over. Then a guy on the Nighthawks fouls me as I’m going in for a layup. I make the shot, get a chance at tying the game with a free throw. I’m nervous as hell. But then I see Cordell looking at me with all the confidence in the world, as if he knows absolutely I can make the shot. And I do. We go into overtime and win.”

Ollie snorted and looked at me as if I was an idiot. “You think you’re going to win this game?”

“I think I have a shot.”

“What does winning mean to you?” Stan asked.

“Cordell makes it out okay.”

“What about you?”

“I’m guessing that once I get you where you’re going, you’ll kill me. Am I right?”

A wide grin spread across Ollie’s face, and I knew I’d nailed it.

“So, I’ll take my chances that somewhere along the way you’ll screw up. This game’ll go into overtime, and that’s where I’ll win.”

“But you’ll get the pack first?” Stan said.

“Keeps me alive for a while, doesn’t it? You still haven’t told me what’s in it.”

“Find it and your curiosity will be satisfied,” Stan said. “Let’s go, you and me in the canoe.”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“We go out on the water now, your brother here might get it in his head to follow Cordell, put another bullet or two into him. I want to give my friend time to make some distance.”

“Jesus, you got some balls,” Ollie said.

Out of the blue, he let me have it, his big right fist to the side of my head, a blow that sent me tumbling. He stood over me, right hand still fisted, the Glock in his left. “You keep stalling, there’s more where that came from.”

“That’s enough,” Stan said, but as I pulled myself up from the ground, he added, “I wouldn’t press my luck if I were you. As you can see, my brother’s got a short fuse.”

“We wait some more,” I said as I sat upright.

Ollie kicked me, a good, hard blow to my ribs that sent me down again. Stan grabbed him and said, “Enough. Give him his few more minutes. We’ll still get the pack.”

Ollie shoved his brother and gave him almost the same angry look that had been on his face before he lit into me. “Don’t crowd me, I’m warning you.”

Stan backed away, holding up his hands as if in surrender. “Just saying that sometimes a little patience is better than brute force.” He looked at me. “You ready?”

“I’ll go, but I want your brother where I can see him the whole time we’re out in the canoe.”