A Dead Man's Tale by James D. Doss

free—but it’s an insult, see?” Realizing from Moon’s bemused expression that he wasn’t quite getting through, the Chickasaw elder put it this way: “Before you execute Shorthorse, make sure that low-down bastard knows you’re doing the job for two bits. ”
     
    After barely suppressing a disastrous sneeze, Daisy Perika came very near giving herself away by laughing out loud. Deciding on a tactical retreat, the tribal elder withdrew to her bedroom, where she let the chuckle out—and then busied herself with packing for the drive south in Sarah Frank’s pickup.

Chapter Fourteen
    There is Absolutely No Place
    Like home, of course.
    When Sarah Frank and Daisy Perika arrived at the tribal elder’s remote dwelling for an overnight stay, tears formed in the old woman’s eyes. There could be no doubt about it, everything was better here than on the Columbine—including the sky, which was of a deeper hue of blue. And those halfhearted birdsongs on Charlie’s ranch couldn’t hold a candle to the crooning of robins and bluebirds in Cañón del Espíritu and… The air here makes me feel twenty years younger! Before going inside, Daisy took time to inhale a dose of that vaporous elixir. After shivering in those chill winds that whistled on her nephew’s ranch, the warmth of this sweet afternoon breeze felt ever so welcoming. Indeed, the moist breath exhaled from the mouth of Spirit Canyon carried delectable hints of an early summer, and familiar scents of savory herbs and enticing spices that Daisy gathered to concoct everything from arcane medications to tasty soups and salads.
    Fine as they were, the sky, birdsongs, air, and flora were just for openers.
    At the instant she stepped over her threshold, the homesick woman was almost overwhelmed by the inexpressible joy of… being back where I belong again!
    Daisy’s creaky rocker by the parlor hearth was miles more comfortable than any chair in Charlie Moon’s log house, and the tired old soul knew that tonight she would sleep like the blessed dead… and in my very own bed !
    But what is home without a neighbor? Daisy will say, “Just the way I like it!”
    But even for this cantankerous old lady, it depends upon the personality of the nearby resident, and after Mrs. Perika has been abroad for a while her standards tend to become relaxed. So much so that even a formerly detestable face can be a welcome sight.
    Which explains why Daisy was eager to pay a call on the only more or less mortal soul within an hour’s walk. Even though the Ute shaman was not particularly fond of the dwarf, the pitukupf was a singular resident in a community populated primarily by such run-of-the-mill society as wild animals and spirits of dead people. The eccentric citizen whom she aimed to visit was a remarkable little man who had spent the better part of his thousand or so years within the shadowy sanctum of Cañón del Espíritu —most recently, as the sole occupant of an abandoned badger hole.
    There were two reasons for Daisy’s desire to see the wily pitukupf .
    The first was friendship. Though their relationship had been checkered by the occasional misunderstanding, the little man was (excepting the raven) Daisy’s only friend in the vicinity. But that term of endearment can be misleading. They were friends only after a fashion —in the sense that aged warriors David and Goliath (had the oversized Philistine not perished during their initial encounter) might have become jolly comrades after the wars who would (whilst tipping pewter mugs of mulled ale) debate the relative merits of shepherd’s slings and gigantic spears. The relationship between Daisy and the dwarf was, to put it simply—complex. Not so very long ago, the annoying little trickster had vexed the volatile old woman to the point that she had very nearly beaten her tiny neighbor to death .
    Please don’t ask. It was an embarrassing incident, best forgotten.
    Daisy’s second reason for desiring an audience