Free Wild Indigo by Sandi Ault Page A

to live by all that hardware? I’m almost afraid to get next to it, dude. Bad karma.”
    â€œOkay by me,” I said, and put my Jeep back in gear. “Get your stuff out, then.”
    â€œNo, wait, okay, I was just kidding,” he said. “Is it all right if Bob Marley sits in the backseat?” He urged his golden retriever in the back without waiting for me to answer.
    Once inside, he fastened himself in with the seat belt, and I noticed a terrible stench. “God, Bone Man, don’t you ever wash?” I waved my hand in front of my face, then leaned toward the opening where my door once was to breathe air that wasn’t fouled.
    He grinned at me, his teeth edged with detritus around the gums. His army-surplus fatigues were stained and torn. “They charge six bucks for a shower at the Northtown gym. Maybe if you could help me out with a little change?”
    I blew out a breath, hoping not to have to take one in again soon. “Where you headed?” I asked, eager to drop him off anywhere I could.
    â€œBob Marley and I were up visiting friends at the pueblo,” he said, reaching behind him to fondle the panting retriever. “We don’t have to be anywhere in particular now. We’re just hangin’. Where are you going?”
    â€œYou were at the pueblo? It’s closed now; it’s Quiet Time. Besides, they don’t allow you to bring your dog in. They don’t even allow pedestrians.”
    He shrugged uncomfortably and started picking at his front teeth with a grit-packed thumbnail. “I got a buddy who meets me down at the gas station by the casino. We go in the back way, in his truck.” Then, looking at his dog in the backseat, he said, “Hey, is it all right if Bob Marley chews on that Kong toy?”
    â€œNo! That’s Mountain’s. He’ll know if someone else has been gnawing on it. Wolves are very territorial about their stuff. It’s going to be bad enough when he smells your dog in my Jeep.”
    â€œOkay, okay. Give me that, Marley.” Bone Man reached in back and grabbed the big black rubber cone. “What do you want me to do with it?”
    â€œGive it to me.” I snatched it out of his hand and laid the toy in my lap.
    â€œSorry, dude.”
    I pulled onto the highway and headed back toward Taos. “Why don’t I let you and Bob Marley off at the gym and you grab a shower, okay?”
    â€œCool,” he said. “And if you could spare us some—”
    â€œI’ll see what I’ve got,” I said, cutting him off.
    And then he began to perform the ritual that had earned him his name. He reached under his shirt and pulled out a long necklace made of chicken thigh bones strung tightly against one another—there were literally hundreds of them on one long strand. He closed his eyes and began running his fingers up and down the bones, playing them like piano keys. “I feel a vibration of danger here, Jamaica. I feel an animal coming for you. A big animal…”
    I pulled into the gravel lot in front of the Northtown gym. “Save it!” I snapped, as my tires slid against the crushed stone and the Jeep jerked to a rocking halt. “I’m not interested, Bone Man.”
    He looked offended, but he hurried out of his seat belt. “But you said you’d help me with some spare change…”
    I reached in my pocket and found a wad of several dollar bills. “I’m not giving you a ride again if you don’t do something about that smell,” I warned as I tendered the cash.
    He nodded his head in gratitude. “Okay, Jamaica. Thanks.” He opened the door of the Jeep and began extracting his dog, his things. Then he leaned down and looked in at me. “I really did see a big animal,” he said. “It was coming after you. Maybe it was trying to get you but it got your Jeep.”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “Brilliant deduction there,