Neither Wolf nor Dog (43 page)

“
I DON
'
T KNOW WHAT TO DO
,” I said to Louise. “Why couldn't he just have written a note saying he wanted to see me? Or why didn't he have Wenonah call me, like the last time, if he doesn't want to talk on the phone? And how'd they know my car?”

Louise just shrugged. She, too, had worked on reservations. She knew that my questions were futile.

“What do you want to do?” she asked. “That's the only real question.”

I shook my head and sighed. “I think I'd better go out there. He seems to be expecting me.”

“Then you'd better go,” she said. “You won't feel very good about yourself if you don't.”

“But only a week. No more.”

She gave me a look of healthy skepticism.

But I was serious. I had writing obligations, speaking obligations. And our short northern Minnesota summer was already on the wane. Louise was a wonderfully patient wife, but she cherished our summer visits from family and friends and didn't want me to miss them. I couldn't allow myself to get trapped like I had during my previous visit to Dan when he and his friend Grover had, in effect, kidnapped me. This time I needed to get back. No “Indian time.” My obligations were white obligations, and they were bound by clocks and deadlines.

A week. No more.