Читать книгу Komatke Gold - Benjamin Vance - Страница 13

Many overflowing days followed. I listened, and talked little. My eyes, ears, heart and soul feasted and could never be sated. Home! I was finally home! Every day was like a rebirth. The days turned into weeks and I was never leaving.

I sought Uncle Preston’s sage advice about etiquette and Native American sensibilities. He wasn’t one for bullshit though. He advised me to treat everyone as I would any round eye. I think he appreciated my concern and my intent to treat Myra and her kin with the utmost sincerity and warmth, no matter the reciprocation.

As for Myra and me, it was difficult to make up for lost time. She had a couple of nice kids. They were a bit unruly at times, but show me a teenager who isn’t. Her daughter’s name is Rainbo and her son’s Raymond. She was 13 and he was barely 15 when we first met. They’d seen firsthand what their father did to Myra, so with the help of their mother, it was fairly easy to win their friendship, if not their trust.

Myra wasn’t wealthy by any means, but she had a nice house, purchased with the help of the council. It was a three bedroom, two bath cinder-block home just suited to the three of them, and that’s the way it stayed. I rented a small, second story apartment with a small balcony close to downtown and the diner. I optimistically rented on a monthly basis.

Myra and I got to know each other again over the following weeks. I also got to know my D.C. boss a bit better. Charlie was a retired brigadier and had been through hell in ‘Nam. He had round scars on his back and chest where Kalashnikov rounds went cleanly through his body. We’d been through a lot and he knew enough about my behavior to know I sounded happy. He confirmed he could get along without me. Everything else was just fine too, until Lew Lew got back into the picture. For some reason that’s when the feces hit the swamp cooler! It was about two weeks after I hit town.