Charlie turned his mug between his palms as he waited for Liz. He looked out the window at the dimly lit park across the street. Dad’s Diner wasn’t exactly a hotbed of excitement, but there weren’t a lot of options within walking distance, and asking to borrow the car that evening would have generated too many winks and nudges from Eddie. A waitress floated by with a fresh pot of coffee, but Charlie put a hand over his cup.

He checked his watch. He’d gotten there early. He hadn’t been able to sit and wait in his new apartment any longer. The place was clean, but small, and the odds and ends his landlord had left him were cheap and scratched. The threadbare couch, the wobbly table, and sad little twin bed hardly felt like progress. He and Jenna hadn’t been high-rollers, but she could always find the good deals. She would have found this place depressing, not that that was supposed to matter anymore. More to the point, it wouldn’t impress Liz at all. But then, he was getting ahead of himself.

“Hey, Charlie.” He looked up as she waved from the doorway.

“Hey.” He was careful not to smile too eagerly as she approached his table. He rose into an awkward crouch as she sat down, unsure of dating etiquette here, and with her. “Welcome to the fast lane,” he quipped.

She smiled and sat down, looking at the menu for a moment before tossing it back onto the table. “I’ll just get a coffee. Mom’s been stuffing me with frybread ever since I got home.”

Charlie flagged the waitress and placed the order.

“So,” asked Liz, “have you heard the news about the Nystrom family?”

“No.”

“Ricky’s dad was injured in the fire. He’s in the hospital, pretty badly burned. He inhaled a lot of smoke, too, but he’s alive.”

“Oh my god. He’s gonna be okay, though, isn’t he?” He couldn’t even imagine the alternative. Ricky was too young to face something like that.

“We all hope so,” said Liz, nodding thanks as the waitress arrived with her coffee. “As far as I know, he’s still in intensive care, but he’s stable.”

Charlie shook his head. What happened to the benevolent trees that had saved him when he crashed his truck; the ones that kept Ricky safe when he climbed, and bowed down to Minnie Littledeer? How had everything gotten so messed up?

“We’re all still in shock,” Liz said, staring into the steaming mug in front of her. “I’m sure poor Ricky’s a mess. He hasn’t been back to school yet. I hope they’re getting him some counseling.”

“Jeez,” said Charlie. “I’m sorry.” They were both silent.

Movement outside caught Charlie’s attention. He looked over just in time to see Louis Greyfox passing by the window with two other boys, shoulders hunched against the cold. One of them stuck a cigarette in his lips and pulled out a lighter. They all stopped in the light of the window while the kid cupped his hand around the flame.

Charlie could see in the reflection that Liz was watching the boys as well. The smoker puffed on his cigarette as a girl walked by. Charlie heard a muffled comment through the glass followed by a hyena-like laugh. While the two other boys turned to watch the girl, Louis stopped and leaned toward the window. He squinted his eyes and looked right at Charlie. To his surprise, the kid seemed to recognize Liz as well. Charlie glanced over and saw her looking back at Louis with an expression of concern.

“You know him?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes troubled.

“How?” He looked back out the window and the boy’s face creased into contempt. Louis led the pack of boys away from the diner window.

“I knew his family,” said Liz.

They watched the boys cross the street and settle under the light of a streetlamp on the opposite side. Two of the boys leaned against a wall. Louis pulled out a cigarette and glanced over again before turning his back.

“Excuse me,” said Liz, her eyes still on the boys. “I’ll be right back.”

Charlie grabbed her hand as she stood up.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, gently pulling away.

Charlie watched her cross the street. The young men shifted as she approached, easing their backs up off the wall to stand straight. Louis glared at Liz, while the other two shoved their hands in their pockets and looked down. Charlie tried to put his mind at ease, reminding himself they were basically harmless. One of them would be talking about how far some girl let him go last night. All of them would be complaining about how lame Nakalish was, how everything was better in Seattle—the nightlife, the women—and fantasizing about what they’d do once they got there. All nothing but talk. But still, Charlie stayed alert, ready to spring if necessary.

Liz kept talking, but Louis was still as stone, arms crossed over his chest. She finally came back in to the diner, looking defeated.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked as she sat back down. “How do you know him?”

She sighed and folded her hands around her mug. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s too determined to hate.” She took a sip of coffee and spoke in a low voice. “I used to date his older brother, Ray.”

They exchanged a glance. Charlie knew the name from the reports that came out after the accident. As cruel as it seemed, he hadn’t devoted much time to mourning the poachers. But there’s no way he would ever forget Ray Greyfox’s boot under the fallen red cedar.

“We dated a long time ago,” Liz said. “But then I went away for school and started teaching, and I never came back. Ray wanted to move to Tacoma, but I . . . I didn’t see a future with us, you know? I wouldn’t have felt right having him come out to be with me when I didn’t feel that way.” She sighed and stared into her cup. “Then his family started talking about how I did him wrong, how I was ashamed of where I came from, and looked down on my people.”

“That’s a load of crap. You’re here all the time.”

“Now, yes. But not back then.”

They both glanced over at the boys across the street. Louis had his back to them again. One of the others put a flask to his mouth and tipped his head back.

“There was probably a little truth to it then,” she said. “I did want to get out and have a better life. And I was young. I guess I kind of felt like Ray would hold me back. He wasn’t ambitious enough. He didn’t seem to know what he wanted out of life.”

Charlie grunted. “I can relate.”

“That was just me being young and proud,” she admitted. “Then life went on, I became a teacher, and shoot, those kids really give you a reality check.” She flashed a crooked grin at Charlie. “I started coming back to Nakalish, and Ray thought that maybe we could try again. But I just didn’t feel that way about him anymore. I’d moved on, but I guess he hadn’t. So in his family’s eyes I hurt him all over again.”

“Yeah, but you couldn’t just—I mean, you know what he was in to, right?” Charlie felt like an asshole as soon as he asked the question, like he was kicking the dead man’s body.

“Yeah,” she said. “I do now. It was just rumor for a long time, but when they found him—when you found him—everything came out in the open.” She cocked her head. “I guess that’s why his brother’s mad at you too.”

“Seems to be,” said Charlie. He wanted to ask her more questions. There were more ways his family was involved with the Greyfoxes, but he wasn’t getting any info out of Eddie. She probably knew something, but he wasn’t sure he could stand to hear any of his family’s secrets coming from her lips.

“So,” he asked, shifting in his chair, “is your whole family still in Nakalish?”

Her expression brightened with the change of subject. “My parents are here, but I have a brother in Seattle, an electrician, and a sister in Olympia. She works for the State. And then there’s me in Tacoma. So all of us kids left.”

“Yeah, well, it’s kinda hard to stay.”

“Hard to stay away, too,” she added. “How about your family?”

“Well, my folks split up and my dad went to Seattle. I went up there to live with him when I was about fourteen.” He took a sip while he considered how much to tell. But then, she’d probably already heard everything through the grapevine anyway. “I had a younger sister, but she died when I was six. She was five. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Thanks.” He never knew what else to say when he told people about his sister, which was why he never did. He looked at Liz. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to go on. Maybe because she’d already shared so much from her past.

“My mom took it really hard,” he said, looking down into his cup, as if it would tell him what words to use. “Things got pretty rough between her and Dad. She started drinking, I mean, they always did a little, but she got serious about it after Lilly died. After a while, they split up. And then once I left, she just kinda gave up. No more kids to take care of, you know, and she didn’t feel like takin’ care of herself at all. She was in really rough shape.”

“I’m sorry,” said Liz. She sounded so sincere. Charlie doubted she could fake that level of concern if she’d already heard the story. He kept going.

“Dad tried to come down and help a couple of times. He didn’t really talk about it that much, though. Nothing seemed to help.”

“Did you visit her?”

“Nope. Dad didn’t want me seein’ her like that. And, at that age, I thought everything was better in Seattle anyway. By the time I grew up and got my head out of—on straight, she was gone.”

Liz put a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Charlie.”

“No, not ‘dead’ gone, just not here. She kinda comes and goes without tellin’ anyone where she’s heading. She’ll call from time to time, say she’s getting better, say she’s comin’ back. But it’s been a while. I’m not sure where she is now.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Come on, you didn’t know about any of this already? Your mom or Auntie didn’t say anything?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I try not to listen to too much gossip. There’s a difference between staying connected and getting into the mud. But Charlie,” she said, putting her hand on his, “I really appreciate your sharing that with me. I can only imagine how hard—”

A loud bang at the window made them both jump. Louis Greyfox’s angry face was just outside, sneering in at them. He beat on the window with both fists again before his friends pulled him back.

Liz gasped, her hands fluttering to her chest.

“He’s drunk,” growled Charlie.

Louis shouted something from the sidewalk, looking right at Charlie through the window. All they could hear through the glass was, “Your mother . . .”

Charlie’s blood boiled. Fuckin’ punk. Fists on the table, he rose from his seat.

Liz pulled thin sheets out of a clanking napkin holder to mop up her spilled coffee. “Charlie, please.”

“I’ll be right back.” He stepped away from the table, seething. Poacher’s kid has the nerve—

“Let it go.”

The Greyfox kid was yelling even louder now. As soon as Charlie opened the door, he heard the whole thing. “Charlie Meninick, your mother’s a dirty, fuckin’ whore!”

Charlie bolted out of the coffee shop, breathing hard. In a second he was out on the street, steaming up to the kid, right fist cocked and ready. Louis’ friends stepped back, but the boy kept on yelling.

“She’s a two-bit hooker down south! Charlie Meninick, your mother’s a dirty—”

Charlie’s fist landed on Louis’ cheek and sent him flying out onto the street. The impact jolted Charlie out of his rage. He stood over Louis and uncurled his hands. Liz called out, running toward them.

Louis moaned and rolled up to a sitting position, a hand on his cheek. Liz knelt down beside him. A wave of shame rose up inside Charlie. Louis was just a kid saying stupid shit. He massaged his hand and stuck it out toward the boy. “Dammit. You okay?”

Louis’ gaze settled on Charlie’s hand, then traveled up to his eyes. “I ain’t hurt,” he snarled. “And your mother’s still a whore.”

“Stop it!” yelled Liz.

“Just ask Eddie,” spat Louis. “He knows.”

“That’s enough!” Liz grabbed Louis’ arm and pulled him to his feet. “Go on, get home.” She shoved him away from them. “Go on now.”

Charlie watched Louis stumble off down the street. Just one punch and the skinny little kid could barely walk right. The tight, hot anger in his chest loosened and regret burned down through his stomach like molten lead.

The boy turned back around with a sneer. “Ask Eddie!” he shouted. “He’ll have to tell you everything now!” He turned away again, and his friends slunk back to his side.

“Come on,” said Liz, putting a hand on Charlie’s arm. “Let’s go back inside.” He stared at the boy’s back and tried to calm his breathing. Liz tugged gently on his arm until he let her guide him back into the café. But the rest of their date was an awkward, stilted wreck.

Charlie realized on the walk home that his shame wasn’t really about hitting Louis. No, he’d punch the little bastard again if he had to. Shame was burning him up because, for a moment, he had let himself wonder if the kid was right.