Reservation Blues - Alexie Sherman (7 page)

"What's that?" Victor and Junior asked
because they were as contemporary as cable television.

"We'll drive straight,"' Thomas said and
pointed with his lips. "Then we find a house and ask somebody
for directions."

The blue van started again, shuddered a little bit,
then traveled down the highway for nearly a mile before it came upon
a HUD house. Those government houses looked the same from reservation
to reservation. The house on the Flathead Reservation looked like
Simon's house on the Spokane Reservation. A Flathead woman and her
granddaughter stood outside in their near-yard, hands on hips,
waiting.

"
We heard you coming from a long ways off,"
the Flathead woman said as the blue van pulled into her
almost-driveway and stopped.

"Where's the Tipi Pole Tavern?" Junior
asked.

"Over there, " the woman answered and waved
her arm in a random sort of way.

"Can you be more specific?" Victor asked,
irritated.

The woman looked at her granddaughter, who was about
five years old with her hair already gray in places. Wise old kid.
The grandmother and granddaughter actually looked like sisters,
except the granddaughter was forty years younger and two feet
shorter.

"It's over there, not too far," the
granddaughter answered and waved her arm in a general sort of
direction.

"Jeez," Victor said. "How do we get
there?"

"Why you want to know?" the woman and
granddaughter asked.

"Because we're playing over there tonight,"
Junior said.

"Playing what?" the granddaughter asked.

"Music," Victor said. "We're a band."

"What's your name?" the grandmother asked.

"Coyote Springs," Thomas said.

The grandmother walked close to the blue van, picked
up her granddaughter so she could see inside, and looked the band
over closely.

"
Who's the lead singer?" the granddaughter
asked.

"I am," Thomas said.

"Well, then," the granddaughter said
directly to Thomas. "just go back down the way you came, take a
left at the first intersection after a big tree stump painted red.
Drive down that road for a while and then take the first right you
see. About three mailboxes down that way is the Tipi Pole Tavern."

"Thanks, cousin," Thomas said, and the blue
van pulled back onto the highway and made its way to the tavern.

"
Jesus, " Junior said. "Ain't that the
way it always is? They only want to talk to the lead singer. All they
want to know is the lead singer. Lead singer this. Lead singer that."

"
Enit," Victor said. "Where the fuck
would Mick Jagger be without Keith Richards?"

"He'd be at the Tipi Pole Tavern," Thomas
said, "already done with the sound check."

The blue van pulled up to the tavern only two hours
later than scheduled. A little old Flathead man sat alone by the
front door. The tavern was closed, but that old man wanted to be the
first customer when it opened.

"Ya-hey," the old Indian man called out.

"Ya-hey," the blue van called back.

"Are you the band?"

"Yeah, we're Coyote Springs."

"Little bit early, enit?"

"We thought we was two hours late by real time.
At least an hour late by Indian time."

"Shit, people out here work on double Indian
time. You could've showed up tomorrow and been okay. What kind of
music you play, anyway?"

"
Little bit of everything. Whole bunch of the
blues."

"Reservation blues, huh?"

"
That's it, uncle."

Coyote Springs climbed out of the blue van and sat
with the old man. They offered him cigarettes, candy, dirty jokes.
Then it was dark.

"About time," the Flathead said.

"Time for what?"

The old man pointed down the road and smiled as
dozens of headlights appeared.

"Shit," Victor said. "It's either your
whole damn tribe or the cavalry."

"
Well," the old man said, "we heard
you was an all-Indian band, and we wanted to hear you play. I guess
even some of the sober ones are coming. Hope the bar has enough Diet
Pepsi."

The owner of the bar pulled up. He took a minute
getting out of his pickup because of his enormous cowboy hat and
dinner-plate belt buckle engraved with the name JIMMY. The cowboy hat
and belt buckle walked up to Coyote Springs and the old man.

"You must be Coyote Springs," he said.

"Yeah, we are. You must be Jimmy."

"Nah," the man said and looked down at his
belt buckle.

"I ain't Jimmy. Not really."

"Well," Thomas said, confused. "We
really are Coyote Springs."

"The one and only," Victor said.

"So," the bar owner asked, "who's the
lead singer?"

Thomas raised his hand.

"
Let's go, then."

The tavern soon filled with Indians of all sizes,
shapes, and colors. They all waited to hear Coyote Springs for the
first time.

"
Look at all those Skins," Victor said.
"They must think it's Bingo night."

"Are you ready?" Thomas asked.

"
Ready to be fucking immortal," Victor
said. His fifteen-year-old green silk shirt and matching polyester
pants glowed in the spotlight.

Coyote Springs counted one, two, three, then fell
into their first paid chord together, off rhythm. They stopped,
counted again, rose into that first chord again, then the second,
third, and in a move that stunned the crowd and instantly propelled
them past nearly every rock band in history, played a fourth chord
and nearly a fifth. Four and a half chords, and then Thomas
Builds-the-Fire stepped up to the microphone to sing.
 

3

Indian Boy Love Song

I saw you walking with those dark legs of
yours
I felt you walking through my
sweatlodge doors
And don't you wonder when
y0u're there in the dark
Just hear the
drummer beating time with your heart

I hear you talking about your Trail of Tears
If you feel the need I can help calm all your fears
I'll be here watching and I'll wait for your call
I'll catch you sweetheart when you feel you may fall

chorus:
And I want
to say hey, ya—hey, ya—hey, ya—hey
I
want to say hey, ya—hey, ya—hey
And I
want to say hey, ya—hey, ya-hey, ya—hey
I
want to say hey, ya—hey, ya—hey, ya—hey

I can see you playing stickgame all night
long
I can see you smiling when you're
singing the song
I'Il be here guessing which
hand holds the bone
I hope I choose right so
I won't be alone
(repeat chorus until end)

Chess and Checkers Warm Water, Flathead Indian
sisters, pushed their way to the front of the crowd in the Tipi Pole
Tavern. Both wanted to get a closer look at Coyote Springs. The
audience cheered like it was a real concert rather than a low-paying
gig in a reservation bar. A few Flatheads even raised lighters,
flicked their Bics, and singed the braids of their friends. For
safety, Chess and Checkers tucked their braids under cowboy hats.
Chess wore glasses.

"
They're not too good," Checkers said. A
few inches taller than her older sister, Checkers was the most
beautiful Indian woman on the Flathead Reservation, and quite
possibly in all of Indian country. All the young Flathead men called
her Little Miss Native American, but she still refused to listen to
their courting songs. She liked the old Indian men and their
traditional songs. All the other Flathead women respected Checkers's
selective ear, even as they chased the young Indian boys themselves.

"Yeah, they ain't too good at all," Chess
said of Coyote Springs. "But that lead singer is kind of cute,
enit?"

"
Cute enough."

Chess and Checkers danced in front of the stage.
Chess had fancydanced when she was a teenager and shook to Three Dog
Night on her childhood radio. She danced well in both the Indian and
white ways. Not as obviously pretty as her sister, Chess, living up
to her nickname, planned all of her moves in advance.

"God," Chess said, "that drummer is
awful."

Junior and Victor started the evening sober but drank
all the free booze offered. Thomas stayed sober but could not stop
his bandmates, so they all sounded worse with each beer. Junior
nearly fell off his stool when he swung and missed the snare drum
completely. Victor strummed an open chord continually because he
forgot how to play any other. Still, it was only the sisters who
noticed that the band fell apart, because most of the audience drank
more than Coyote Springs. All the other sober Flatheads had already
left.

"
Let's go home,'° Checkers said.

"No," Chess said. "That lead singer is
staring at me."

"Thank you, thank you," Thomas said after a
particularly sloppy number. "We're going to take a short break
now. We'll be back in a few."

Coyote Springs staggered off the stage. Thomas left
his guitar onstage, but Victor always carried Robert Johnson's guitar
with him.

"Did you see that woman in the front row?"
Thomas asked.

"Yeah, the one with black hair and brown skin?"
Victor asked.

"
No, really," Thomas said. "Did you
see her?"

"Yeah," Victor said. "The one with the
cowboy hat and big tits."

"Don't be an asshole, " Thomas said. "I
mean the one with glasses."

"
Yeah," Junior said, "I saw her."

"She's pretty, enit?" Thomas asked.

"
She's all right," Junior said.

"
Shit," Victor said. "I'd take the one
with big tits."

"
She wouldn't have nothing to do with your drunk
ass," Thomas said.

"So what?" Victor said. "Who says I
want an Indian woman anyway? I see some good-looking white women
here."

Surprised, Thomas and Junior looked around the room,
because they hadn't noticed any white women and wondered what Victor
saw.

"You must be having a vision, " Junior
said. "I'm jealous."

"Listen," Thomas said, "I want to play
her a song."

"Who?" junior and Victor asked.

"The woman in the front row."

"
That white woman?" Victor asked. junior,
completely confused, scanned the room again for any evidence of white
women.

"No," Thomas said, "the Indian woman.
The one with glasses."

"Why?" Victor asked. "Is Thomas trying
to get laid?"

"I want to play 'Indian Boy Love Song,' "
Thomas said.

"Shit no," Victor said. "We ain't even
practiced that one."

"I don't think so," Junior said. "Ain't
no Indian wants to hear a slow song anyway."

"Well, I'II just go out there and do it myself."

"Jesus Christ," Victor said as Thomas
walked back onstage. "The little asshole's already thinking
about a solo career."

"
Well, let's go," Junior said. "We're
a band."

Junior followed Thomas, but Victor stayed behind and
made goofy eyes at a blond mirage near the back of the bar. Victor
had started to drink early in life, just after his real father moved
to Phoenix, and he drank even harder after his step-father moved into
the house. Junior never drank until the night of his high school
graduation. He'd sworn never to drink because of his parents'
boozing. Victor placed a beer gently in his hand, and Junior drained
it without hesitation or question, crashing loudly, like a pumpkin
that dropped off the World Trade Center and landed on the head of a
stockbroker. Thomas's father still drank quietly, never raising his
voice once in all his life, just staggering around the reservation,
usually covered in piss and shit.

"Come on, Victor," Junior yelled from the
stage. "Get up here."

"Fuck you," Victor said, but the guitar
throbbed in his hands and pulled him to the stage.

"Thank you, thank you," Thomas said as
Coyote Springs reclaimed the stage amid a drunken ovation. "We're
going to slow things down a little now. I want to play this song for
that Indian woman standing right here in front of me."

Thomas pointed at Chess. The whole crowd, because
they had known the Warm Water sisters all their lives, chanted her
name.

"Well, Chess," Thomas said, "this one
is for you."

Nerves and bar smoke cracked his voice, but Thomas
sang loudly, shut the whole bar up, and even sobered up a few drunks.
Thomas stunned all the Flatheads when he dared to serenade an Indian
woman with his ragged voice. They figured he must be in love.