Undivided

But that’s a lie, because her tears have already started.

•  •  •

“The house will be under surveillance,” Sonia says. “Not as much as before—after all, thanks to that Starkey person, you’re no longer public enemy number one—but the Juvies still want to take you out if they can.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“You realize how much danger you’re putting yourself in. You don’t know what your parents have been told, or what they believe about you. They might even think you mean to kill them.”

Co

Co

“You’ll have the nerve,” Sonia assures him, “but not the need. There’s a critical time for everything. I do believe you need to do this now, or forever hold your peace.”

He knows the worst that could happen probably outweighs the best that could happen. Lev found that out, didn’t he? He found out the hard way.

“My friend Lev—I’m sure you’ve heard of him—he saw his parents again. They disowned him.”

“Then Lev’s parents are assholes.”

Co

“I never met the boy, or his parents, but I see kids like him every day.” Sonia tells Co

Co

“If you ever see him again, you should tell him that. After what his parents did, he needs to hear it, and never stop hearing it.”

Co

When he looks up, Sonia is watching him to see what he’ll do. “Do you need some time alone?” she asks.

He answers by folding the pages of the letter and slipping them back into his pocket. “They’re only words,” he says, and Sonia doesn’t argue.

“If you get there and change your mind at the last minute, you can always mail that letter instead.” Then she looks over at the trunk. “In the meantime, I think I’ll get all these other letters stamped and in the mail. I’ve never felt the time was right to send them. But if the Akron AWOL is going home, maybe it’s time for all of these kids to be heard too.”

“Have Grace help you,” Co

“Fair enough.” Then Sonia takes a few steps closer to Co

“Moratorium. Right,” says Co

Sonia regards him with the sort of mock contempt usually displayed by people his own age. “It means a temporary break.”

“I knew that,” says Co

Sonia shakes her head dismissively and sighs. “It’s Sunday morning—do your parents go to church?” Until then Co

“Only on holidays and when someone dies.”

“Well,” says Sonia, “let’s hope nobody dies today.”

23 • Lev

He

Una calls ahead so the Rez is expecting them—and intends to play it for all it’s worth. The Royal Gorge Bridge is closed to traffic for the transfer. A phalanx of guards is there as Morton Fretwell, the Arápache’s public enemy number one, is taken from the trunk of Una and Lev’s car and into police custody. They remove the gag and plastic ties restraining him, and place his hands and feet in steel restraints that seem like overkill for his ugly, emaciated frame.

Then he is walked across the bridge, in perhaps the greatest perp walk of all time. The Arápache are nothing if not dramatic.

“You and Una will lead the procession,” Chal Tashi’ne told them over the phone. “It will be a public event, and the first thing the public will see coming over the bridge will be you.”

Chal is not there when they arrive. Lev is not surprised. As an accomplished attorney for the tribe, Chal might put on a professional façade, but as Wil’s father he couldn’t bring himself to face the last living parts pirate responsible for his son’s unwinding. At least not yet.

At the far end of the bridge is a large turnout of the Arápache people. Five hundred at least.

“Don’t wave or smile or anything,” Una tells Lev as they cross the bridge toward the crowd. “Show no emotion. This is a somber event.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Lev responds. “I’m not an idiot.”

“But you’ve never faced the Arápache as a hero. There are expectations. A demeanor that goes back a thousand years.”

When they reach the end of the bridge, the cheers begin. Una was right to tell Lev how to comport himself, because he does have an urge to bask in glory. Then as they get closer, the cheers drop off and are replaced by boos and jeers. It takes a moment for Lev to realize that this communal vitriol is for Fretwell, who hobbles behind them, with multiple sets of guards on either side.

The crowd shouts epithets in both Arápache and in English, to make sure he understands the nature and level of their hatred. The crowd makes as if to push through the wall of guards holding them back, but Lev suspects it’s also just for show. Yes, they want to tear him apart, but they won’t. They want him to suffer, and suffering requires many more opportunities for public humiliation.

“You people suck,” Fretwell shouts, which thrills the crowd because it allows them to hate him even more.

The chief of police comes over to check out Fretwell. Lev finds himself disappointed that the tribal chief isn’t here, but perhaps he had his expectations too high. As the police chief assesses Fretwell, the parts pirate makes that familiar guttural sound, dredging phlegm from the back of his throat.

“Spit at him and you die right here, right now,” says one of the guards holding him. Fretwell’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the substantial loogie.

The police chief turns to Lev and Una, shaking both of their hands. “Well done,” he says. Then Fretwell is put into a squad car, driven off, and the party ends. Lev can’t hide his disappointment.