SR#20: Grim Wasteland

Ltr.8: Mugger Shot

July 5th, 2008
Dear Dad,

Today, Hero searched my stuff. He's been getting really paranoid, since his gun went missing. I asked him what his deal was, and he smacked his lips and his fat, hairy belly fell out of his shirt.
He stuffed it back in, and said, "I know you're Ol' Boulder's kid, an' I know yer a thief too, just like 'im. Shoulda figured, you an' that Radigan kid were too close. Quarreling, maybe... like brothers."
He didn't find anything, so he sat down with this Big Slurp (I swear this dude has diabetes, or he got it by the time he finished that drink), and told me you used to be called "Bulldozer", and you ran in Two-Neck's crew. That you guys used to steal cattle, butcher them, and sell them back to your marks. He said Two-Neck was your brother, and my uncle. That he used to do the wrangling, and you did the butchering... until you sold your brother out for a plea bargain, and he got shot by Hero for resisting arrest, and trying to use his own gun on him. I didn't want to believe any of it, that you'd lie to me for so many years or just not tell me. Then he showed me your mugshot, next to Uncle Cory... Cory Herman. Said they called him "Two-Neck" cause he could lasso two cows at once, and tell two contradicting stories in the same breath.
You know, I'm not telling anyone here this, but if you had told me... I would have thought that was awesome! Way to stick it to the man for taking all the land, killing all the buffalo and other animals, and forcing us to eat their medicated pharmabeef. I know you guys probably just needed the money, but what you did was technically kind of an environmentalist act of rebellion against Big Agriculture? And, yeah, a crime, but still. (Yeah, I've ben reading books with big words in them, catch up some time.) Besides, the number of times I've heard of people getting killed by colonist cops for "resisting arrest"... I'm starting to wonder if I should even trust this pig. Sure, they give me lots of gifts, call me a hero, whatever... but that sugar hurts my teeth, man, and it makes me feel sick. I'm more of a from-the-tree kind of guy.

Also, I ended up getting my first kiss from the only girl at my school who's from another tribe! She's Blackfoot, and now we're kind of going out. Her name's Kat Archer, she's really cute. You'd like her. I'm bringing that up because these guys tried to set me up with Gregory Hognose's little sister, who's like, ten. It was really creepy of them to think I'd go that young, or that I'd marry into their family just cause they fed me some cake. I'm also thinking that they probably aren't going to help you out of jail... Helda keeps talking about money problems. She really wants that Spanish Silver... like she thinks it was mined out a few centuries in advance on her request. Last I checked, that silver was mined by Mexican slaves, so it's technically their property even if we do find it? I bet if the European traders hadn't forced them to dig it up and ship it out five hundred years ago, their economy (and ours) would be sitting pretty right now. They basically stole all of our trading power! It was a long time ago, though, so who knows.
Point is, it belongs to the real Canadians. We're the ones who need a second chance, not the self-describing "white folk" who squander their government checks on fancy clothes, a monster truck, and a pearl-handled revolver. That's the one that got stolen, by the way. Yeah, they're tax-exempt cause this is a 'Christian Camp'. I saw a cross here and there, but it feels like they just use this place to flaunt their unearned wealth and win over some easily impressed middle-schoolers. It's all for show. I bet none of these fun activities would be here if they used the money they were capable of making on their own. Some capitalists.

So anyway, I spent the morning in handcuffs, until Hero finally let me go. He'll be keeping an eye on me, he said. Yeah, same to you, pal.

* * *

This place sucks now. Hero won't let me, Shirwin, or Grim do any fun stuff. He wants us looking up and down the perimeter for Runaway Rusty, since the cops already gave up and the posters turned up nothing (maybe cause they forgot to put a phone number on them, idiots). The cops haven't gotten any calls either.
Kat's getting attention from some rat in the Slate camp. He thinks he's SUPER funny (cause it's all he's good at). I'm stuck biking around, so I can say "nope, no sign of him" over and over again. Or at least, I was.

I got bored and started tracking a prairie dog for fun. Checked its burrow, followed its little tracks, then chased it into a pit. He scrambled out, but the damage was done... Hero was watching. From his truck parked up the cliff, he'd been spying on me with his binoculars. Now he knows I'm a tracker, and he's packing up his truck for an "expedition". Antonio said he last saw Rusty picking up trash in the chasm, so we're starting there. Grim and Shirwin have to come too, and even though we just got here, it sounds like this is what we'll be doing all week.
I gave Kat a kiss, with tongue (can I get a BOO-YAH), and told her that I was coming back, and not to listen to the clown. His jokes aren't actually funny, he just has great timing. Like most comedians. I can still write at night, in this journal I'm gonna send you once I get back home. It's got a lock and key, so nobody but me and you can read it. Why did I think I'd catch a break here? A hero's work is never done.