Mni wiconi - Water is life

Chapter 22

The day dragged on. Besides reading, breakfast and lunch had only provided a brief distraction. Leo folded his hands behind his neck and lay back down on the cot. He stifled a yawn convulsively.

Just don't fall asleep.

There was only another nightmare waiting for him anyway. Unk Cekula with her stinking breath and wide-open mouth. How she swallowed him alive, and he could not find a way out of her intestines.

He shook himself in disgust and stared intently at the ceiling. Maybe he should see a doctor, get some pills prescribed. But that went against everything he had learned. His grandfather's words were burned too deeply into his memory. The white man's medicine was poisoning the Lakota's bodies. The pills only treated the symptoms and never the cause of an illness. His people's medicine was completely different.

Leo sighed. He should have welcomed the offer to take part in a sweat lodge ceremony instead of resisting the old traditions. He had rejected every attempt by his grandfather and Maggie to help him. He probably would not be stuck in this darn cell right now if he had not stubbornly refused and seen the customs as childish and inadequate to his problem. Just because the white man's approach had failed.

And would always fail because something else was programmed into his genes. A Lakota needed the support of his community. That was the main reason for the misery on the reservation to grow like a tumor. Because many, like him, had forgotten the old traditions and adapted to the whites. Softened by the series and films that showed them a happy life, which they would never achieve. From dishwasher to millionaire had long since ceased to apply to ordinary citizens. And for outcasts like the residents of Standing Rock, there had never been such an opportunity.

Leo rolled onto his side. His gaze wandered to the booklet he had placed back on the table. In history, too, the Indians fought to preserve their customs. Those who moved away and sought a new life away from the tribe were begged to return home. But wasn't it the other way around for him? Hadn't people repeatedly asked him to build a better future away from the reservation? What had held him back? Concern for his grandfather? The fear of not being able to survive on his own? Or did he long to be fully accepted back into the community, even though he railed against it at the same time? Had his years in the army torn him apart so much that he was unable to find a foothold in either world?

He sat up, clenching his jaw tightly. The brooding was getting him nowhere. Where was this Dillinger? Had the bastard just wanted to trick him with his friendliness so that he could gain undisturbed access to Leo's home? Was the agent being paid by the oil company to falsify evidence? A messenger of the black snake?

No, that did not suit him. He was the first law enforcement officer to show understanding for the Lakota culture. And why else would he know the story of Eagle Boy? Too many inconsistencies. Like Emily's death.

Leo stood up with a sigh. The white woman did not deserve to die alone in the dust of the prairie. No matter how much her behavior had irritated him, she had always been interested in helping his people. Now, no one would take the time to blog to draw attention to the situation and the brutal actions of the oil company and law enforcement. Who had an environmental institute behind them like Emily? Was that the reason she had been killed? Or had she found out something that couldn't be allowed to come to light?

He clenched his fists and started pacing restlessly like a tiger in a cage. Back and forth without stopping, his gaze always stubbornly directed forward. Until someone opened the door to his cell. He obediently stood with his back to the wall so that the sheriff's employee could see him immediately.

"Follow me," growled the guy called Aiden. "And take your stuff with you," he added after glancing at the table.

Leo hesitated briefly. Why didn't the white guy handcuff him? Another test to see if he behaved himself and didn't use the moment to escape? An attempt that would only get him into more trouble. Slowly he detached himself from the wall, grabbed the book and followed the man into a room. The other sheriff's employee tossed him some clothes. "Get dressed. We have got the real culprit."