Forests of the Night by James W. Hall Page B

of course, he was the token redskin, all those boys spying on him day and night, trying to see if he pissed and shit like regular human beings.”
    â€œI suppose that must’ve been hard.”
    â€œBeing a fighter,” Jacob said, “sometimes it’s the only way to survive.”
    Parker waited for him to continue, to make his point, but Jacob went silent, and his face turned again to the water.
    â€œWhat’s all this about, Jacob?”
    The big man glanced his way briefly, then looked back into the glittering darkness.
    â€œLooks to me like you’re still that way, Parker. Gung ho, competitive.”
    Jacob Panther gazed across the canal at the McCollums’ brightly lit backyard, their Great Dane enlarging the excavation it had been working on all week. When he turned back to Parker he had a quiet smile.
    â€œYou in some kind of trouble, Jacob? Because that’s what I do. I get people out of trouble.”
    â€œI know what you do.”
    Parker could see that Gracey was transfixed by the conversation. Allowed to stay and witness an unguarded adult encounter. It was one of the areas of disagreement in child rearing between Charlotte and him. Parker argued they should treat Gracey as an equal, include her as much as possiblein family decision-making. Charlotte lobbied hard the other way. Wanting to prolong the girl’s childhood as long as possible. Adults ran the show, children followed the rules. Lately it had turned into a good cop, bad cop situation. Parker the permissive one, Charlotte the enforcer. Gracey sensed it, and was exploiting the friction between them to negotiate herself the best possible outcomes. Daddy’s little bargainer.
    â€œYou’re not passing through town, are you? This isn’t a social call.”
    â€œNo, it’s not.”
    â€œWell?”
    Jacob glanced at Gracey for a moment and his face relaxed.
    â€œYou got yourself a handsome family. You’re a lucky man.”
    Then he stepped close to Parker and spoke with such grim authority that Parker felt something lurch and stumble in his gut.
    â€œYou’re next.”
    â€œWhat the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    Parker set his beer bottle on the edge of the barbecue pit and took a moment to gather himself.
    â€œThis have something to do with your uncle Thomas?”
    â€œThomas, no.” Jacob’s eyes flashed to Parker’s. “The spider dragged Thomas off to the darkening land.”
    Parker repeated the phrase to himself, fetching through the fog of years.
    â€œThomas is dead?”
    â€œWell, you remember something they taught you at camp.”
    Tilting his head back, Jacob looked up at the first faint stars.
    â€œHeart attack, six years ago. Too much whiskey.”
    Parker chose that moment to pose the question he’d been wanting to ask since Panther showed up at his door.
    â€œAnd your mother, Lucy? How is she?”
    â€œI’m forbidden to speak of her.”
    â€œWhoa,” Gracey said, coming closer. “What’s that mean?”
    Without taking his eyes from Jacob, Parker said, “It’s a Cherokee thing.”
    â€œForbidden to speak of her. Like what, she’s being shunned or something? Kicked out of the tribe. She did something bad?”
    â€œNot shunned.” He looked at his daughter, reached out and lay a hand on her shoulder and maneuvered her to his side so the two of them were facing Panther. The man’s face had lost the last wisps of amusement. A defiant stare emerging as though he was daring Parker to explain this to his daughter.
    Even though it had been almost thirty years, the words came easily, those strange, foreign lessons imprinted in his marrow.
    â€œThe Cherokee are one of the few cultures where women have as much power as men. Women were held in such high regard among the Cherokee people that long ago, if a woman’s name was so much as mentioned when warriors went into battle, the