It was a pretty decent day, coolish for that time of year, with a strong north wind blowing. In his mind’s eye, he could see the four certifiable lunatics on their surfboards out on the Superior waves. Running with Chris was always good, since he could keep up his end of a conversation on a lot of topics, and they did talk about the four heading off surfing for a while. It astounded Chris about as much as it did Danny, and both agreed that anyone hooked on surfing living this far inland pretty much had to be a certifiable lunatic. It was a lot better than hearing Dave rattle on about bass fishing or Anson just being sour.

When Danny pulled into Debbie’s driveway about a quarter after five, he found her working on dinner. "I thought we were going running," he commented.

"We can if you want to," she said. "But I got to thinking about your new schedule. That’s not going to give you a lot of sleep tonight, is it?"

"Not really," he sighed. "I was sort of thinking about corking off a couple hours tonight before I head out. Then, I get four hours off, maybe a little more if we run fast, between four and eight. I can get three hours solid sleep out of that."

"It’s still a short night and hard on you," she said. "The only thing I can say is that it’s better than having you gone all night."

"Have to make hay while the sun shines," he said. "Three to four more months and the rock rolling is done, and I’ll have plenty of time to sleep."

"Yes," she nodded. "But you’ve been keeping a very tight schedule. What would you say if we eat a light dinner and go right to bed? We could party a little, and then you could get some sleep."

"I’m not going to turn you down on that," he nodded. "I can go home over the shift break, or I can come back here, your call."

"You might as well come here," she sighed. "Maybe I’ll get up when you do and read for a while. I might be up when you get back, and I might not be. But if I’m not up, at least we can get up and go to breakfast together. That’ll at least give us some time together during the week."

"I’d like that," he said. "This working two jobs is just going to mean we’re not going to get a lot of time together in the evenings, except when I’m running Peddler."

"I realize that," she nodded. "We’re just going to have to work it out. I was thinking that maybe when you’re on afternoons, maybe we can go to bed right after you get here and get up a little early. Sometimes we’re just going to have to squeeze our runs in separately."

"Let’s give it a try, then," he said. "I probably ought to figure on taking an hour or so at home after the store, tomorrow," he said thoughtfully. "I really need to run some laundry."

"Why not just bring it here?" she said. "I do have a washing machine, you know. It’s smaller than yours but it’s big enough."

"Yeah, I can do that, I guess," he replied. "Might even be simpler if I just left some clothes here, rather than hauling everything back and forth in a duffle bag."

"Might as well," she sighed. She stirred a couple things on the stove while looking thoughtful. "Danny, we’re doing it, aren’t we?"

"Doing what?"

"Living together," she replied. "I mean, the last couple weeks we’ve sort of made the fiction we’re not, but the only time you’re at your home other than to do the laundry is to drop off your dirty laundry, pick up fresh clothes, and haul in the mail and the paper. The last time we spent a night apart was when you were on nights two weeks ago, and we wouldn’t have done it then if you’d been on days, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," he smiled. "Now that you point it out, I mean."

"Danny, don’t get me wrong," she said, turning from the stove to put her arms around him. "You are still my korican, and I still want to be your hudaroi. I know I told you I made up my mind after Kenny that I wanted to live with someone for a while before I marry him, but I guess I always thought I’d decide to before I did it. It’s just a little strange to look up and say, ‘Oh, spirits, here we are.’"

"Well, since you put it that way, I guess you’re right," he said. "Not that I mind. I know I always thought I might have learned enough about Marsha to decide to go the other way if I’d first lived with her. And, there’s nothing wrong with it. I mean, hell, Brandy and Phil lived with each other for sixteen years, sort of, off and on before they finally got married last spring. And Jennifer and Blake longer than that."

"That’s a little different," she giggled. "After all, he did start out as her employee, and from everything I’ve ever heard, things just happened. Danny, I’m not saying that we need to back off, but we do need to think about what we’re doing and maybe not let things just happen."

"I don’t think we’re letting things just happen, at least not in the long run," he said. "I think we’re taking a pretty hard look at each other. Maybe we have some reservations, maybe some that we can’t even verbalize. Maybe we both realize that living together will allow us to find out about them."

"I know," she said. "Danny, I’d have to say that I’ve been throwing a lot of Indian and katara stuff at you because I’m concerned it’s going to be an issue with you."

"We’ve talked about that before," he agreed. "The answer is still run and go see. At this point my understanding is growing enough that I don’t think it’s something I can’t handle. But I don’t know that for sure and it could be years before we discover it. It’s a risk, Debbie, but I think I’m calculating it better than I did with Marsha."

"You’ve handled it well, my korican," she smiled. "So well that I think the Indian in you is showing through a little."

"Could be," he smiled. "That’s still an issue with you, isn’t it? I mean, the Indian/white thing?"

"Yes, it is," she said. "Not as big a thing as I thought before I discovered that we’re cousins, a little. Danny, maybe it’s real premature for us to be talking about getting married and having children, but what we found out last week made a big difference, even though it’s pretty small."

"I don’t follow."

"It’s tribal," she said. "The tribal laws say that you can’t be a Shakahatche unless you’re over fifty percent Indian descent. Before last week, our children wouldn’t have qualified. Now, they will; they would be Indians under tribal law. That means they’d share in casino dividends and matching funds to the state grant for college."

"Huh?" he said. "I never even thought about that."

"It wasn’t a fact of life for you like it was for me," she said. "Now, I know it’s not a good time to ask, but would having Indian children bother you?"

"On what?" he snorted. "A three percent difference? Not likely." He let out a sigh. "I might be related to someone it would bother, but no big deal to me."

"Who?"

"Brandy, Jennifer and Tara all know you, they think you’re cool," he smiled. "I don’t think you’ve met my brother Garth and his wife Michelle. I think Garth would be OK with it but I don’t know about Michelle. But, I don’t care about Michelle, either. She doesn’t much approve of me, and it works both ways." And yeah, he thought, Michelle would pitch a fit. Not only on the Indian part of it – it would be real interesting to see what she thought when she found out about Garth’s fractional Indian blood – but she took her Christianity on the straight and narrow. Debbie’s spirituality would yank her chain, big time. As far as that went, although Debbie had talked about Christianity often enough, and seemed to have a good knowledge of it, unlike Ellen and Ruth she’d never admitted to being an active Christian. Did it matter? No way. "I’m not worried," he continued. "We’ll deal with Michelle when we have to."

"I’m glad you’re so confident," she shook her head. "Maybe I’m just more sensitive about it. After all, I’m a katara, and we’re both businesspeople in town. There’s no telling how things are going to work out with the store yet, but doesn’t living together seem a little, well, tawdry?"

"Maybe a little," he shrugged. "But it doesn’t bother me much. Remember, you’re dealing with an Evachevski. Let me ask you some questions. Who’s the most famous person in town?"

"Your sister, Jennifer," she snorted. "By a long way."

"Right," he grinned. "Who has the most money in town?"

"As far as anyone knows, Jennifer and Blake," she smiled, starting to get his drift. "Again, by a long way."

"How long did they live together before they got married?"

"Somewhere between eight and eighteen years, if you can figure out when they started. Or if they can, for that matter."

"Who are the president and chairman of the board of the largest nudist camp in the state?"

"Your parents," she grinned now.

"One more question, just for the sake of being formal," he said, taking her head in his hands. "My hudaroi, will you live with me?"

"Can I ask a question?" she grinned. "Your place or mine?"

"Your place, I think," he laughed. "That is, if you don’t mind. It might get just a touch awkward at mine."

"Works for me, my korican," she smiled. "Now will you turn loose of me so I can stir the asparagus?"

*   *   *

Since July 4 fell on a Wednesday that year, it was a little awkward to take off a long weekend – especially on the railroad, where any one person taking off could ball the schedule up royally. In the previous week, Josh had talked to all the train crews, suggesting that they work right through Wednesday, and then take the holiday on Friday. Everyone landed on that one quickly.

Actually, Danny was the least enthused of any of the train crew members about it. While waiting for Chris to show up to run Keyhole north early the morning after he and Debbie had formally decided to live together, he told Josh, "Debbie has Wednesday off. It’s tied into the paper schedule; they’re going to print a day early, but she has to work Friday."

"It’s nice to be in love, isn’t it?" Josh grinned. "Hey, the two of you have been hitting it hot and heavy, you need a little break from each other."

"We’re apart too damn much as it is," Danny snorted. "The new schedule is better than the old one, but it’s still making life a little goofy."

"Tell you what," Josh smiled. "I’ll make it up to you a bit. We’ve been slowly moving into the new house. Tiff and I were sort of thinking about having a cookout Friday night, maybe as a housewarming. Brandy and Phil will be there, John and Candice, my folks, Tiff’s folks, Mark and Jackie probably, Blake and Jennifer maybe."

"That’s pretty heavily Run-8," Danny frowned.

"Well, you’re sorta part of it," Josh smiled. "Besides, I had an extra twist on it. I thought maybe we could ask Debbie to bless the house, or call down good spirits on it, or whatever it is she does. We thought that since the dog sledding tradition came up through the Indians, an Indian shaman might be the one to ask."

"I suppose she does something like that," Danny smiled. "I’ve never actually seen her do it, but we’ve talked about it with her friends. I’ll have to ask."

"Thanks, Danny," Josh grinned. "I know it must sound a little weird to you."

"Weird, hell," Danny snorted. "I’m actually starting to get used to it. By the way, don’t use the term ‘shaman’ unless you want a lecture. The proper term is ‘katara.’ It means sort of the same thing, but not real close."

Josh shook his head. "I don’t know whether you’re in love or going native on me, or both."

"I’ll go along with the first part," Danny grinned. "The second part, well, I’m learning to live with and respect it. Ask me again in a few years."

*   *   *

Things had changed a lot in the two months since Danny had been out to Josh and Tiffany’s. The trailer that they’d lived in for years was still there, but empty now, the skirting stripped away, and due to be moved shortly. Slightly up the hill from where it stood there was a new, stick built house with a large picture window looking out toward the dog lot. It was not anywhere as striking as Randy and Nicole’s, but looked like a solid house for people who liked to live out in the woods.

The big change was in front of the house. The last time Danny had been out there was at the height of spring mud season, and the large lot in front of the house was covered with doghouses and muddy dogs – digging, playing, crapping, and especially raising hell. It had always been noisy out there, with a hundred dogs and more. Now, most had been moved over the hill to Phil’s new dog barn, and only a handful remained. The field had been graded over, and there was fresh grass growing in it. It was a lot quieter.

The dog barn wasn’t much to look at, just a steel pole building, but inside it was designed to keep each of the dogs in individual cages on concrete, each with an individual outside run. "It just simplifies the heck out of dog maintenance," Phil explained when he took Danny and Debbie on a quick tour. "Candice and I know a family down where we come from with a confined animal feeding operation with 3600 cows. This is a tiddler compared to that, but we work on the same principles."

It may have been more efficient, Danny thought, but that steel building sure holds the noise in, and the noise of all the dogs was incredible. On the other hand, it might not be anywhere near as bad outside as the old days down on Josh and Tiffany’s dog lot. "You know," Danny asked, "this is a pretty damn big building. Didn’t it cost you a ton?"

"Not really," Phil said. "Steel pole construction is about the cheapest way to build a work building like this anymore, since steel prices are so low and lumber is so high. This looks kind of like a work building, but they can be made to look pretty good with a little fascia." Something to think about when I get together with Randy, Danny thought. Oh, well, he knows more about it than I do.

Debbie looked particularly Indian tonight, Danny thought. Not that she dressed the part, or wore a tribal costume, or anything of that nature, but she had on an elegant beadwork, quillwork, and bonework necklace with matching bracelets, dreamcatcher earrings and a beadwork hair barrette. That was enough, with her face, to define ‘Indian’ to anyone who wanted to wonder.

The dedication ceremony, before dinner, was brief and simple. Standing in front of the house, with the guests circled around, with Josh and a pregnant Tiffany holding hands, she lit a bundle of aromatic sage, presented it to the four corners of the world while she chanted in Shakahatche – Danny couldn’t pick out many of the words but could a few, so he must be gaining ground, he thought – then she changed to English for a quick prayer of dedication to the spirits, in such a general way that any spirits of any religion would be satisfied. "May the spirits bless this house and all who dwell in it," she finished.

While everyone there knew Debbie – in fact, everyone else there had known her for longer than Danny – it was the first time they’d seen that side of her in action, and it was a bit of an eye-opener. As Josh and Phil took charge of the grill, a lively discussion got under way, with Debbie explaining a little about the Indian way of looking at things. Although Danny was getting used to it by now, and the questions were so simple he could have answered them as well as Debbie, it was still interesting to watch her at the discussion. The sincerity she presented was impressive.

There was one minor distraction. While most of the dogs had been moved up to the dog barn, there were still a handful of doghouses with dogs out near the old barn that Josh and Tiffany had used for storing and mixing dog food. These were either special older dogs, or dogs that had proved to have trouble adapting to the dog barn. One of them was just determined that he was going to bark his head off all evening. He was very yappy, stunting at the end of his chain, doing four off the floors, and obviously determined to make a pest of himself. At one time or another, Josh, Tiffany, Candice or Phil yelled, "Shut up, Vandal!" at the pest, with little effect.

After a while it started to get irritating. "I think I’d better go slap him around a bit to settle him down," Josh said, "Or else, tie him up out in the woods somewhere so we can talk in peace." Josh did go over, gave the dog a serious talking to, and slapped him lightly around the flanks with a switch.

The dog cringed and shut up for about thirty seconds, just long enough for Josh to get back over to the grill. "OK, that does it," Josh snorted, oblivious to the fact that one dog was considerably less noisy than the hundred or more that had been out there a month before. "The back forty for you tonight, Vandal."

Debbie put out her hand. "Josh, let me see what I can do."

"I’d be amazed if you can do any better with that pest than I can," Josh snorted as he walked over toward the dog with Debbie. Curious, Danny tagged along.

Debbie walked up close to the dog, but not within chain lunging distance, and said quietly, in English. "Dog spirit, you are offensive. Be quiet."

That didn’t do much. "Told you so," Josh grinned.

Debbie just shook her head and in a friendly, almost joyous tone without raising her voice uttered a phrase in Shakahatche. Vandal just about spun in midair and raced back to his doghouse, visibly frightened. "Told you so," she grinned.

"Debbie," Josh said, jaw hanging open. "What did you say to that dog?"

"Just an old phrase of The People," she replied mysteriously. "One that gets the attention of the dog’s spirit. It wouldn’t work for you Josh, you’re not Shakahatche."

They turned and walked away. Not only was Vandal not seen the rest of the evening, not a peep was heard out of him. "All right," Josh said a while later. "That’s just amazing. That dog has nevershut up that long before. Debbie, can we call you in for a consultation if we need to?"

"That’s what kataras are all about," she smiled. Danny was left grinning inside. He already knew that he was going to have to accept mysterious once in a while, but sometimes mysterious works, too.

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