Free Hillerman, Tony - [Leaphorn & Chee 14] by Hunting Badger (v1) [html] Page B

curing
ceremonials. As the older brother of Chee’s mother, he was Chee’s
‘little father,' the one who had given Chee his secret 'war name,' his
mentor, the tutor who had tried to teach Chee to be a singer himself.
Hosteen Nakai would hate being in a hospital. Dying in such a place
would be intolerable for him. How could this have happened? Blue Woman
was smart and tough. How could she have allowed anyone to take her
husband from their place in the Chuska Mountains?
    He was trying to think of an answer to that when he heard the sound
of tires on gravel, looked up and saw through the screen door Bernie’s
pickup rolling to a stop. Maybe she could tell him.
    She couldn’t.
    “I just happened to see him,” Bernie said. “They rolled him up on a
gurney to where I was waiting for the elevator, and I thought he looked
like your uncle, so I asked him if he was Hosteen Nakai, and he nodded,
and I told him I worked with you, and he reached out for my arm and
said to tell you to come, and I said I would, and then he said to tell
you to come right away. And then the elevator came, and they put him on
it.“ Bernie shook her head, her expression sad. “He looked bad.”
    “That was all he said? Just for me to hurry and come?”
    She nodded again. “I went back to the nursing station and asked. The
nurse said they had put him in Intensive Care. She said it was lung
cancer.”
    “Yes,” Chee said. “Did she say how he got there?”
    “She said an ambulance had brought him in. I guess his wife checked
him in.“ She paused, looked at Chee, down at her hands and at him
again. “The nurse said it was terminal. He had a tube in his arm and an
oxygen thing.”
    “It’s been terminal a long time,” Chee said. “Cancer. Another victim
of the demon cigarette. Last time I saw him they thought he had just a
few weeks to live and that was -" He stopped, thinking it had been
months. Far too long. He felt shame for that—for violating the bedrock
rule of the Navajo culture and putting his own interests ahead of
family needs. Bernie was watching him, awaiting the end of his
sentence. Looking slightly untidy as usual, and worried, and a little
shy, wearing jeans stiff with newness and a bit too large for her and a
shirt which fit the same description. A pretty girl, and nice, Chee
thought, and found himself comparing her with Janet. Comparing pretty
with beautiful, cute with classy, a sheep-camp woman with high society.
He sighed. “That was far too long ago,” he concluded, and looked at his
watch.
    “They have evening visiting hours,” he said, and got up. “Maybe I
can make it by then.”
    “I wanted to tell you I talked to Cowboy Dashee,” Bernie said. “He
told me what you did.”
    “Did? You mean the airplane?”
    “Yes,” she said, looking embarrassed. “That was a lot of work for
you. You were sweet to do all that.”
    “Oh,” Chee said. “Well. It was mostly luck.”
    “I guess that was the big reason they were holding Teddy. Because he
could fly. And he knew the man who had the plane. I owe you a big favor
now. I didn’t really mean to ask you to do all that work. I just wanted
you to tell me what to do.”
    “I was going to ask why you were at the hospital. Seeing about Teddy
Bai, I guess.”
    “He’s better now,” she said. “They moved him out of Intensive Care.”
    “I didn’t know Bai knew Eldon Timms,” Chee said. “Did you know that?”
    “Janet Pete told me,” Bernie said. “She was at the hospital. She was
appointed to represent Teddy.”
    “Oh,” Chee said. Of course. Janet was a lawyer in the federal court
public defender’s office. Bai was a Navajo. So was Janet, by her
father’s name and her father’s blood if not by conditioning. Naturally,
they’d give her Bai’s case.
    Bernie was studying him. “She asked about you.”
    “Oh?”
    “I told her you were on vacation. Just back from going fishing up in
Alaska.”
    “Uh, what did she say to that?”
    “She just sort of