Two officers picked up
a drunk Indian
I should go see my daughter, eh?
You gonna take the greyhound? She asked
Nah. I was hopin’ you could
drive me. I have no money,
Ya know?
I s’pose it’d be good to get away, she said.
Ya don’t know how much this means.
Dropped him ten miles out of town.
Told him, “walk home, the air
will sober you up a bit.”
Her friend put her bag
in the truck box
and stopped.
Her friend faced her
and held out her
Hand.
Here. This is for you.
I can’t take this!
I want you to have it.
As a thank you, ya know?
She took the locket from
the outstretched hand.
40 below.
Midnight.
They saw the daughter.
It was a good visit.
When it was time to go her
friend hugged her daughter
like she didn’t want to let go.
And gave her the gold
earrings she wore.
He went 3 miles.
No coat.
The drive home was long and
Quiet.
Darkness crept up on the
long ribbon-highway.
The engine began to steam
and she pulled
the sputtering truck to the shoulder
They were put on paid leave.
Found not guilty.
Shit, eh? Her friend said.
She popped the hood
and they got out.
She propped up the hood and
out of the corner of her eye
she saw bright lights
and her friend’s
silhouette on the yellow
line.
“It was just a drunk indian”
Blaring horn and
sneaker tumbling
a graceful ballet
to land at her
feet.
They were not innocent.
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