Adios Angel by Mark Reps

for me to come into town
just to see you?” asked Eskadi.  “We have to do some business together?”
    “What’s with you?   You come in sounding like an
Irishmen and the next thing I know you’re sounding like a Jewish banker.”
    “Good one, huh?  I’m just getting in some practice for
the Morenci Rodeo Days talent contest.  I’m going to mimic as many different
tribes of White people as possible,” laughed Eskadi.
    “You never let up do you?”
    “A guy has to have his shtick.”
    “Okay, funny man, let’s have a listen to the tape.  I
want to know if you recognize the voice.  I know it’s a long shot, but everyone
around here seems to think the person is at least part Mescalero.”
    Eskadi Black Robes stood silently staring out the
window, hands clasped behind his firm muscular back, as Kate played the tape. 
    “Play it again, please.”
    Kate admired Eskadi’s physique.  His shiny, black hair
traveled over his broad shoulders, stopping near his waist and firm buttocks. 
The sleeves of his black tee shirt stretched tightly over his upper arms
exhibited perfectly formed triceps. 
    “It’s definitely not the voice of a San Carlos
Apache.  The man does speak like a Mexican, excuse me, Hispanic, who spent more
than a little time conversing with Apaches.  He has stolen a little inflection
from our dialect.  I do have to say, he does have a Mescalero accent.”
    “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me you recognize
the voice?”
    “I can’t help you with that.  That is going to take
real police work.  That is the reason you make the big money and the rest of us
just scratch out a living.”
    “You’re a laugh a minute,” chided Kate.
    “I’ll bet you anything he speaks Hispanic with a Mescalero
accent, just like he does English,” said Eskadi.
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” said Kate.  “You also
mentioned you might know something about the stolen cars?”
    “I’ve heard some talk that might interest you.  It’s
one of those little stories one person mentions to another and another until
finally it passes through enough people it make its way to the tribal office. 
Sometimes I feel like I live in gossip central.”
    “That’s the way the whole world works.  Please tell me
what you have.”
    “By the time the story reached me it went like this. 
Eugene Topy was fishing for small mouth bass over at the big lake.  He fell
asleep and dreamed of wild animals.  In his dream he heard a coyote howling. 
Naturally he woke up and looked around.  After he realized it was a dream he
noticed his rod and reel were missing.  To hear him tell it, some big fish
nabbed it and took it right to the bottom of the lake.  Hannah Udom, his
cousin, told me about it.  She claims it serves him right because he was
probably drunk anyway.  I talked with Eugene.  He says he only had two beers
and was as sober as a White man at work.”
    The absurd human details of Eskadi’s stories were
endearing to Kate.
    “It started to rain pretty hard and Eugene decided to
go home in case a big storm was coming in.  He moseyed over to his truck and
took a back road home.  He wasn’t in any particular hurry because his wife’s
twin sister and her five kids were staying with them.  He knew he would catch
holy heck from the both of them when they found out he lost his fishing gear. 
Eugene had been bragging earlier about all the fish he was going to bring
home.   Now, not only was he empty-handed, he had to find a way to scrape
together a few dollars to buy some new fishing equipment.  His wife controls
the money, and Eugene says she’s pretty tight with a buck.”
    Kate knew Eugene Topy.  He and his wife ran a little
burrito stand at community gatherings on the reservation.  He was a big man,
four hundred pounds and six and half feet tall.  His wife, Melina, couldn’t
have been five feet tall and was as thin as a reed in a dry lake. 
    “When Eugene pulled up to the house, they figured