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I had no regrets about sleeping with Mav again and even though afterwards had been brutal and I’d needed to hide out in the bathroom to use the sound of the shower to cover my muffled sobs, I knew I’d do it again in a second if he asked me. But I knew the chances of that were slim since our time together was winding down with every hour that passed. I had no doubt he’d meant what he’d said about not returning to Seattle beyond the time it took to collect his Harley.
Once we’d gotten off the plane, there’d been two cars waiting for us. A simple sedan that Ronan had rented for us and a hearse. Mav hadn’t watched the shipping container that carried his mother’s body being loaded into the belly of the plane, and when we’d gotten off, he’d sat silently in the driver’s seat until the driver of the hearse had tapped on the window to let us know they were ready to go and that they would follow us. It was nearing lunch time when we drove past the sign indicating we were entering the reservation and within minutes we were driving into a small valley that was nothing more than dust, a little bit of brown vegetation and a smattering of small houses and buildings spread out over a few hundred acres. There was one main road leading into town with a few smaller roads serving as access points to several houses. A feeling of bleakness settled in my gut as we passed one decrepit house after another. Garbage littered the street and front yards along with old appliances, chopped up wood and endless, unidentifiable debris. Junked out cars were all over the place and to my horror, I saw more than one person lying on porches or along the sides of houses. My first thought was that they were dead, but I realized they were just sleeping. Some had blankets, some didn’t.
“Oh my God,” I breathed before I could think better of it and I instantly regretted it when I remembered that this place had been Mav’s home. I shot Mav a glance. He was stiffer than I’d ever seen him and his fingers were curled around the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles had gone bloodless.
There were more people out and about than I would have expected for such a small town and most looked like they weren’t up to anything in particular. Many were sitting in broken chairs or on old plastic milk crates in front of their houses or in front of the few stores that lined the main street. Many were holding half empty bottles of liquor in their hands. A few kids were riding their bikes down the street and I saw at least two older boys riding horses bareback with only ropes attached to the animals’ halters to help them steer. Stray dogs were sniffing through the garbage and I had to look away when the skinny animals turned on each other and began fighting.
As we made our way past the tiny houses that looked like they would blow over with the next stiff wind, more people began exiting their homes to watch us and I felt an uneasiness settle over me at their blank expressions. “You said you haven’t been back here since you left when you were sixteen, right?” I finally asked as I tried to imagine Mav as one of the dirty, scrawny, poorly dressed children riding their bikes alongside our car.
“Yep.”
“Was…was it always like this?” I asked, hoping like hell I wasn’t insulting him, but still too overcome with what I was seeing to make sense of it.
“Yes,” Mav said quietly. “It’s been forgotten for a long time.”
“Forgotten? What do you mean?”
“The government made the Lakota a lot of promises. Promises they haven’t kept in the 200 years since the first treaty was signed. Nine out of ten people in Pine Ridge are unemployed. About the same number of people are alcoholics and about half those people are homeless. The kids that don’t kill themselves actually look forward to going to bed every night so they can escape the pain of being hungry all the time.”
I swallowed hard as what he was telling me sank in. “How did you survive this?” I whispered in disbelief as I looked around. But Mav didn’t answer me and it didn’t really matter. I was just glad he’d found a way out, though I hated knowing that it wasn’t this cruel, unforgiving place that he’d fled, but a cruel and unforgiving man.
Mav pulled off onto a side street and drove for several miles along a winding dirt road that was more sparsely populated. He stopped in front of a light blue mobile home that in any other place would have been considered unlivable. Several men were sitting on lawn chairs in the front yard and at least half a dozen kids were playing with an old soccer ball. Two women were hanging laundry from a long line strung up between two sparse trees next to the trailer. Three tents were pitched in the front yard. Behind the mobile home I could see what looked like more tents, but they weren’t normal ones. They were covered with what looked like burlap tarps or something. In front of them was a big fire pit and off to the side were a couple of long tables.
