The Indian And The Cowboy And Justice

By John Jamieson

 Twelve years after a native Ojibway elder gave Myrya Blackstone her missing native 'medicine' of a hawk, a protector, she is a partner in a security business in Toronto. She contacts her old boss, a mentor, after her friend on a Reserve was attacked, requiring surgery. Plus images of the white teenager that slashed Myrya's face when she was a teenager resurface. Four women seek justice: a black woman, a white woman with a transgender woman lover and a First Nations woman.

The mentor set up two sting operations: one infiltrating a gang in Sault Ste. Marie involved in arson, loan sharking and gun running. The other, he hired two adult entertainment twins to drug the 'slasher'. The sister of the 'slasher', discovered her father with dementia is gay, and in his will requires that he be buried in a small pre-Canada Jewish cemetery near Algonquin Park. A discovery by ground sensing radar at the cemetery established a link to the elder that said a hawk would bring her messages and protection. The two sting operations unite, allowing the four women to exact justice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Jamieson
• Release date: May 13, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224951000

Book preview

Chapter 1: Mary Ann Arrives

At 5 a.m. Myrya’s cell phone rang. A text from Mary Ann stirred her awake.

‘Hey girl. Taking a Crown charter from Edmonton to Toronto. Can you pick me up at the airport? I’m in at 8 p.m. and don’t know the place. Can you find out where I land? Or, if not, give me an address to find you. I don’t have anywhere to stay. Love, MA.’

Myrya rolled out of bed and smiled. It would be great to see her old friend from the Reserve. Myrya remembered many conversations with Mary Ann at the Blue Fish Reserve when Myrya faced difficulties. She phoned the airport immediately: a Crown charter was scheduled to arrive at 10 p.m. tonight. Unusual, she thought, that she was on a Crown Construction Pipeline charter; Mary Ann had never worked for the company—at least to her knowledge. She rang the taxi company and asked them to pick up her friend.

At 10:15 p.m. the taxi company phoned and estimated that they would be at Myrya’s condominium by 11:10 p.m. Myrya asked the driver to call her when they were almost there.

The yellow taxi stopped in front of the Sea Breeze Manors, an eleven-story upscale condominium. Mary Ann waved wildly through the taxi window when she saw Myrya on the entrance stairs. The driver went to the trunk and took out a set of crutches. Myrya ran to the taxi and pulled the door open. The driver, holding crutches, held up a hand to slow Myrya down. Miss Blackstone, I’ll help her out. I’ll be fine. Myrya stared at her guest. What was the problem that needs crutches?

Mary Ann extended one leg to the pavement and lifted the other leg, covered in a knee length cast, beside it. Oh My. I love you so much. Thank you for meeting me.

Myrya bent over and hugged Mary Ann. Mary Ann! What’s this? A cast! And crutches for what?

Mary Ann shook her head and leaned against the taxi. I’ll tell you inside. I am so glad to be with you again. We haven’t seen each other for years.

The driver handed Mary Ann the crutches, steadied her, lifted under her arms and adjusted the crutches for her. She stumbled slightly, readjusting the crutches. He walked beside her as she approached Myrya. The two ladies awkwardly embraced again with crutches between them. Myrya handed a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill to the driver. Thanks again Bill. Add the fee to our tab. Say hello to your wife.

She turned back to Myrya and embraced her again. Then, carefully moving one crutch forward at a time, she hopped forward, her cast-covered right foot, barely touching the ground. The stairs required a different strategy. She gave the crutches to Myrya, turned around, sat down, and pushed herself up one step at a time. An elderly doorman dressed in a maroon cap and long grey waist coat came over and helped her stand and regain stability with the crutches at the top of the stairs.

Harold, meet my friend Mary Ann. She’s going to be staying with me. I’ll let management know and get a key for her. We go back a long way.

Glad to meet your acquaintance Miss Mary Ann, Harold said.

Yeah thanks, Mary Ann replied. Harold held the door open for her. She paused, looking at the rich medieval motif on the floor. She looked at the ornate entrance door and hopped forward. Gee! My you live in luxury here! Never seen such rich colours on a floor. And you got sculptures and freshly cut flowers. What does this place cost you? she exclaimed. It’s like a hotel!"

Mary Ann, I don’t rent this. I live in a condominium here—and that I own. It costs a few bucks a month for upkeep. She smiled. Beats the Reserve, eh?

Fat chance you own this! You must have a sugar daddy. An Indian doesn’t live in a place like this. My god, does he treat you well? Are you married?

Mary Ann, you’re goofy. Being an Indian doesn’t mean you need a man to—

I hope your sugar daddy has a friend. But a friend who likes an Indian on crutches!

At room 1111, Myrya pushed a magnetic card into a slot and the door opened. A computer voice sounded from inside the apartment: Hi Myrya. No intrusions, one phone call, no new e-mail, oven on, meat warming, yogurt completed, outdoor temperature 79, room temperature 70, welcome home and with a friend.

Mary Ann’s eyes widened, and she turned to Myrya with her mouth open. My, we’ve known each other for over 10 years, but I don’t know any information about your work or career. Some lifestyle you have here! We only talk about events on the Blue Fish Reserve. What kinda place is this? It’s your voice! The computer has your voice!

Coming in, Einstein. I have a friend with me. She’s from the Blue Fish Reserve and called Mary Ann. She’s staying with me for a while.

A computer voice answered. Welcome Mary Ann. I’m familiar with the Blue Fish Reserve. Ask me for help at any time.

It’s AI, Mary Ann. I installed it. This is my work now. Like the voice? It’s my voice. I programmed it with my voice. What an Indian!

You—an Indian! You do stuff like this? And you used to work in a kitchen on a pipeline. What a crazy life you have.

Mary Ann, you still using the word Indian? Best that you use First Nations around here. Einstein changes the word Indian to First Nations. Just to let you know.

My you are such a tech nerd.

It’s something that my company sells, she said as she preceded Mary Ann into the living room. We integrate various mundane operations into a computer program, and we can monitor whatever functions you need to know. It’s my living now. See over there? She pointed to a fancy ornament top of the lampshade. It’s a video camera. It’s activated when you enter the room. It’s saved on a hard disk in the basement. I shut the system off with a palm print or a voice command. I’ll have to give you some activation codes to shut it off manually. You have to shut it off when you come in and turn it on when you leave. She laughed. I don’t want to see any pictures of you disrobed in the house.

Just for my sugar daddy you’ll find for me? Mary Ann giggled and hobbled to a couch.

Sure. I’ll order several daddies for you. Toronto has thousands of rich First Nations men.

Flopping backwards into a velvet couch, Mary Ann sighed. My, you really have done well. Do you need a secretary? She laughed. So, girl, you got a boyfriend or someone? You live by yourself?

The doorbell chimed and a computer voice came on. "Man, five foot eight, black hair, red t-shirt, black pants, carrying a package. Face recognition unknown."

Myrya fished a twenty-dollar bill from her purse. "It’s a pizza delivery. I have a video camera in the hall. It gives me info whenever anyone stands on the welcome mat.

After the deliveryman left, Mary Ann hobbled into the hall with her crutches, partially closed the door and waited to hear a response. "Man, five foot four, black hair, blue shirt, blue jeans carrying a package. Face recognition unknown."

Mary Ann punched the door with the rubber guard on her crutch. Hey, you stupid computer, I’m not a man.

They laughed. Myrya explained that it’s difficult to determine if it is a man or woman standing on the mat. Wearing clothing covers much of the anatomy that could be used to analyze the gender. But gender, Myrya said, was probably not really required in this rapidly changing world. Size and weight are more important.

And it didn’t know I had a cast on my foot.

Myrya walked over and wrapped her arms around her friend. I’m so sorry for you Mar. Really. I have to help you. Something is wrong with you? You have to tell me about your foot. Can you?

Mary Ann looked at her a moment, then her eyes glistened. My, I wish I could change places with you. Remember we talked about that? It seems so long ago. Sit down with me and talk about yourself. I want to know about you. About your career. Your apartment.

No way! We’re talking about you! I’m fine. You’re the one with crutches, Myrya hesitated. It’s okay? I mean to talk about it? Get it out! Myrya put her hand on her friend’s shoulder.

Okay. But I might cry, Mary Ann said.

Mary Ann recounted the story of her surgery to remove the toes on her right foot. Mary Ann visited a large bingo hall in Sault Sainte Marie. She won the giant prize of ten thousand dollars. She was given the option of taking the complete amount in cash, or only a partial amount in cash and the remainder in a cheque. She decided to take five thousand immediately. A security guard offered to take her home for thirty dollars; he was driving past the Reserve and would take her home. Mary Ann accepted the ride. Part way home the pickup truck had mechanical issues and it stopped. Another vehicle stopped to help. But they pulled out clubs and beat the security guard, or Mary Ann thought he was attacked. They asked for her money and grabbed her purse. They grabbed the money. They punched her and left her on the side of the road. When she woke up from the beating, the security car was gone and no one else was around. The January temperature was about minus twenty degrees. She started walking. No vehicles on the road. Tired, she sat down on the side of the road and passed out. Fortunately, a trucker found her, and took her to the hospital but she lost all her toes on the right foot from frostbite.

She wiped away tears. My, it was a set up! I made inquiries from the bingo hall and there was no such security guard employed by the bingo hall. No one remembers this person at all. But I remember him. I can identify him. I think he had a beard and long hair. I reported it to the police and there is a file on it. But nothing has happened. I’m an Indian and we never get help from the police. One officer said, ‘better luck next time lady’ and laughed.

Police have any photos for you to look at?

No. I told you; the cops don’t care much for Indians. We’re disposable. You know that, eh? They think that we get what we deserve.

Myrya took a breath, then slapped a fist into her palm. Okay! We’ll talk more about this. I have ways that might be able to help you. But let’s get serious! Myrya spurted out. Give it to me straight. Exactly. How the hell did you get on a Crown charter from Edmonton? Myrya moved her head closer to Mary Ann. You work for Crown now? I doubt it!"

Mary Ann leaned away from her. My, you’re my best friend. I love you. You are the most important person in the world for me. She cleared her throat. Please don’t be mad.

Myrya blinked. Mad! About what?

About me! Mary Ann whispered, I’ve been doing something about you for someone. She held up her hands and uncrossed her fingers for Myrya to see.

What in the hell are you talking about? And crossed fingers! Like a child?

I’ve been telling someone about you. But not bad things.

Me? Myrya growled. Me? Something about me? You’ve been a spy?

Yes. Someone asked me to tell him about where you were, where you worked, friends. Everything. It was Donny. Go ahead and slap my face! I deserve it. It wasn’t really bad, eh?

You knew Donny? From the pipeline? Donny was monitoring me? she asked puzzled. I didn’t know you even knew him. Not when I was there. How did that happen?

Yes. And he paid me.

You got money from Donny? To spy on me?

Mary Ann reached out and touched Myrya’s arm. Be kind to me. At Christmas time every year, he sends me insulated rubber boots for the winter. If I had worn them to bingo, I would probably still have two great feet. And he puts cash in the boots. Please don’t hate me. He really cares about you. It’s not spying. It’s like watching over a baby.

For twelve years. You’ve been receiving boots? Myrya suddenly laughed. This is crazy! She placed a hand on Mary Ann’s shoulder. When we talked on the phone you were taking notes—for Donny? For boots? And then telling him about me?

My, they’re all over the fuckin’ place! Can’t move for boots. Twelve years of them. My mother wears them, and my aunt wears them. Visitors wear them! He phones me and asks how they are. I’m too embarrassed to say, ‘stop the fuckin’ boots’ and give me some warm clothing. She gently pushed Myrya’s hand away. What is it with you and him? He’s not in love with you, because you never see him. What’s he got a rubber boot factory?

Oh, Mary Ann, Myrya exclaimed. She leaned forward and embraced her. My friend, the spy. After a moment of laughing, she became serious. Uh ... Mary Ann?

Yeah? she said, still giggling.

I ... uh ... She cleared her throat. I have been spying also, monitoring Donny’s locations and work routine.

What! Mary Ann yelled. You spying also? Is this reverse spying?

Well, a chance meeting I had with a Crown employee, Jane, at a security conference; we established a texting relationship, and I could ask her about Donny. She worked in Donny’s office; we’re both in the security business. But Jane did not become enriched with rubber boots for helping me. It did not seem like spying, Myrya giggled. I don’t understand why I was so interested in what he was doing. Strange, eh? Both of us wanted to know about the other.  Did Donny set up this plane ride from Edmonton?"

Yes. He asked if I wanted a free ride to Toronto. I just had to ask at any time. And, a return trip, free.

Donny just happened to ask if you wanted to come to Toronto for today? Why now? What’s this about? Sometimes things happen by chance or luck. At other times events are calculated. Myrya got up and walked back and forth in front of her seated friend. But several weeks ago, I sent a text to Donny asking to have supper at some time when he’s in town. And that’s tomorrow! Interesting that the three of us are here at the same time.

Really! He’s in Toronto? Mary Ann asked surprised. Didn’t know!

Donny never told me about you flying in from Edmonton. Nothing? Myrya wondered if this juxtaposition was calculated. Suddenly her thoughts flashed to Elisapee in a tent on the Blue Fish Reserve. Mar—Elisapee healthy? She gave me my medicine—a hawk. I love that woman. I think of her all the time. She says that Aboriginals, true believers, get messages. It takes time to understand them.

Oh My. She slumped back in the couch. Sit down and let me hold your hand. So sorry. She passed away several years ago. It was so sad. I went to the cemetery on the day of her death. You know about how we treat death?

Death? Elisapee passed away? You didn’t tell me! Why?

I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you. My, you know the community hates you. After all these years. Ed’s brothers have sworn to bury you alive. The chief, well, he’s not chief anymore, but he wants to just shoot you. They got some of your books from the cabin you burned down and nailed them to a tree. They go and urinate on it—and make a war cry! They’re stupid and crazy. If I would have told you, you might have wanted to come. It would have been a disaster. I couldn’t take a chance to have you return to the Reserve.

I didn’t know that anyone still remembered me.

Myrya, you didn’t grow up in an Indian community and you don’t have cultural knowledge on Aboriginals and death. It was a busy time. But peaceful. You, in town, would have disrespected the death by the amount of hate that others have for you. The community would have been on edge. Believe me, I made the correct decision to withhold her death from you. Sorry. Mary Ann smiled, I got to be part of the family that selected the location of her grave and the orientation.

What do you mean?

"My, death is respected in different ways. On our Blue Fish Reserve, the body must be oriented according to the rising of the sun in the morning. The soul of