Randy paid for his Coors, nodded to Babe, then followed Sam out the side door of the bar and up a shale bank into a low grove of aspens. By the side road, he saw Sam’s blue Ford half-ton. A tarp was thrown over the bed, and Sam’s old hound, Crow, was sleeping on it. At the cab, Sam unlocked the door and hauled out a large canvas suitcase. He shut the door and signalled to Randy to follow. Randy waited a moment before going along behind, like they had arranged. Just in case anyone — a kid, Babe, a state police officer — might be watching from the distance.
Randy walked alone, scanning his mind for the words. His eyes squinted in the morning light as he followed Sam up the hill into a woodlot of cottonwoods and birches, then down into a gully cut by a creek running over blue-streaked boulders.
Sam sat under a birch. He pulled out a key from his jean pocket and unlocked the suitcase. Carefully and slowly he lifted the lid. Randy became nervous. He leaned in close.
Out of the suitcase’s gloom shone the golden eyes, the thin pearlmouths. Each mask was no larger than a man’s hand. They were flat, like plates, the features embossed and emblematic as if they had been made not to be worn but to be displayed in some kind of ritual. Randy picked one up. It was as light as a piece of paper. And as beautiful as he remembered from last October.
“You satisfied? I’ll bring ’em up to Chief Mountain. To your dig. Just like we agreed. Meet you at the site after lunch. Then we’ll take ’em over the border that same evening in your van. With you and your crew of students. It’s such a perfect cover, right? Who’d suspect a famous professor? So clean and innocent. No one’ll bother to check. I’ll come behind, in the truck. You still agree?”
“I went through that crossing this morning. Your fed boys searched the van top to bottom. Made me unwrap all the tools.”
“Good for them. Doing their job for once. So what?”
Randy sighed and gathered his patience.
“We should wait a couple of days so they can get to know us.”
“Fuck, no. That won’t make no difference. Chief Mountain’s a soft crossing. Always has been. You keep puttin’ this off. You keep wantin’. . . .”
“I want it to go right, that’s all. We agreed we’d be careful. You’re the one, Sam, who said we should lie low. We could’ve taken them over last fall.”
“With every state trooper chasing our ass? You and your fuckin’ dealer held us up. You went and talked to him, and he said we gotta wait till he gets the cash. What kind of dealer is that?”
“Sam, you don’t know anything about that end, so shut up. Robert Lau is reliable, trust me.”
“Trust is a big word, Randy.” Sam stood up. He lit a cigarette.
Randy didn’t like it when Sam stood to smoke. The last two times they got together, Sam always wanted to change things. At first, he wanted a bigger share of the money. Then he wanted to sell the masks to a local rancher for a third of the price Robert Lau was offering. Randy knew he had to change his own plan. Why trust Sam? Possession is nine-tenths of the law after all. Sam stubbed out his half-smoked cigaretteand sat down again. Randy could tell Sam was ready to make an announcement. “I’m coming over with you. I decided I wanna come out to the coast with you, too. To make sure I get my share.”
“What?”
“Forty, sixty. Sixty percent for me for stealin’ ’em. Forty percent for you for settin’ up the dealer.”
“Yes, and I go to the dealer alone, as we agreed. Alone!”
“Old Sam not so slow, Randy. Me and you both want the cash. I gotta make sure I get my cut.”
“No way, Sam.” Randy walked into the grove of trees and stood alone, silent, with his hands on his hips. “Listen,” he said, turning back. “I trusted you for six months to hold on to those masks. Now you have to let me sell them and carry back the cash. If you come, Lau will get spooked. He’s a fussy man, doesn’t like
Randy walked alone, scanning his mind for the words. His eyes squinted in the morning light as he followed Sam up the hill into a woodlot of cottonwoods and birches, then down into a gully cut by a creek running over blue-streaked boulders.
Sam sat under a birch. He pulled out a key from his jean pocket and unlocked the suitcase. Carefully and slowly he lifted the lid. Randy became nervous. He leaned in close.
Out of the suitcase’s gloom shone the golden eyes, the thin pearlmouths. Each mask was no larger than a man’s hand. They were flat, like plates, the features embossed and emblematic as if they had been made not to be worn but to be displayed in some kind of ritual. Randy picked one up. It was as light as a piece of paper. And as beautiful as he remembered from last October.
“You satisfied? I’ll bring ’em up to Chief Mountain. To your dig. Just like we agreed. Meet you at the site after lunch. Then we’ll take ’em over the border that same evening in your van. With you and your crew of students. It’s such a perfect cover, right? Who’d suspect a famous professor? So clean and innocent. No one’ll bother to check. I’ll come behind, in the truck. You still agree?”
“I went through that crossing this morning. Your fed boys searched the van top to bottom. Made me unwrap all the tools.”
“Good for them. Doing their job for once. So what?”
Randy sighed and gathered his patience.
“We should wait a couple of days so they can get to know us.”
“Fuck, no. That won’t make no difference. Chief Mountain’s a soft crossing. Always has been. You keep puttin’ this off. You keep wantin’. . . .”
“I want it to go right, that’s all. We agreed we’d be careful. You’re the one, Sam, who said we should lie low. We could’ve taken them over last fall.”
“With every state trooper chasing our ass? You and your fuckin’ dealer held us up. You went and talked to him, and he said we gotta wait till he gets the cash. What kind of dealer is that?”
“Sam, you don’t know anything about that end, so shut up. Robert Lau is reliable, trust me.”
“Trust is a big word, Randy.” Sam stood up. He lit a cigarette.
Randy didn’t like it when Sam stood to smoke. The last two times they got together, Sam always wanted to change things. At first, he wanted a bigger share of the money. Then he wanted to sell the masks to a local rancher for a third of the price Robert Lau was offering. Randy knew he had to change his own plan. Why trust Sam? Possession is nine-tenths of the law after all. Sam stubbed out his half-smoked cigaretteand sat down again. Randy could tell Sam was ready to make an announcement. “I’m coming over with you. I decided I wanna come out to the coast with you, too. To make sure I get my share.”
“What?”
“Forty, sixty. Sixty percent for me for stealin’ ’em. Forty percent for you for settin’ up the dealer.”
“Yes, and I go to the dealer alone, as we agreed. Alone!”
“Old Sam not so slow, Randy. Me and you both want the cash. I gotta make sure I get my cut.”
“No way, Sam.” Randy walked into the grove of trees and stood alone, silent, with his hands on his hips. “Listen,” he said, turning back. “I trusted you for six months to hold on to those masks. Now you have to let me sell them and carry back the cash. If you come, Lau will get spooked. He’s a fussy man, doesn’t like
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