A host came onto the stage announcing the intermission. She directed people to the lobby area for refreshments, as well as the merchandise shop where artwork produced by the children, shirts, and trinkets were being sold. The auditorium was now bathed in lights, and people rose out of their seats, talking and laughing. Jack decided to try and make it to the restroom before it became too crowded. As he left the stage area and neared the bathroom, he felt a tug on his arm. He turned to see a young Native lady of about sixteen, dressed in green sweater and jeans, her eyes full of dark circles and worry.
“Excuse me, are you Jack Currant?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes darted back and forth, as if she were looking out for someone, afraid she may be seen.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
She swallowed, and her face flushed.
“I shouldn’t say anything.”
“Tell me what you have to say. I am going to turn back around, towards the hall, and you can make-believe you’re looking at the art on the wall. Away from the crowd. I will look at my pamphlet. No one will see you talking to me, okay?”
“Mmm hmmm.”
He turned away from the artwork, and she faced it. He then opened his pamphlet, pretending to read it.
“My mom was kidnapped and never seen again. Same thing happened to my aunt.”
“That’s a shame. Sorry to hear that.”
“I heard a lot about this play. They said it’s to help to stop the killing of Native women. I saw your son is mentioned in the back of the program. I looked at his picture, too. It says, anyone with information, please call a certain number. Is that your number?”
“Yes. My son’s name is Chad—he was murdered. Do you know something about that?”
It seemed she took forever to answer.
“Honey, it’s all right. You can tell me. You’re safe.”
“I… I overheard my uncles talking about this performance last night. They mentioned your son. In the advertisement for the recital, it had a reference regarding what happened to your son, and a reward for information.”
“Mmm hmmm. What did your uncles say about my son?”
“They said… they said Chad was killed in the park. By an old cabin. Left in the snow. They said it was New Year’s Eve, and people were partying, and he was with some friends at a bar. They all left with some girls to party somewhere else. I think a different bar. Most of the women left the second bar after the ball dropped, but one woman stayed with the group of guys. They’d all been drinking, having a good time. The girl was drunk, maybe high, too. Then, a bad thing happened…”
“Go on. Tell me.”
“They went snowboarding up to that old cabin. Chad… Chad tried to stop Charlotte from getting raped that night. He told them to get off her, to stop… but they wouldn’t. My uncle said nobody wanted to say anything or get involved… Afraid to deal with the police.”
Jack’s heart raced and his head began to spin. He clutched his chest, quickly calming himself down.
“How does your uncle know all of this, honey?”
“Because… Charlotte is my cousin…She told one of them.”
Jack waved and smiled as someone walked past, then pretended to be reading his brochure once again.
“No one would believe her, sir. The guy that attacked her threatened her… She’d been drinking, like I said. Someone called and told her they’d kill her and all of us if she spoke about it. She never discussed it again after that night, according to my uncle.”
“What did my son, do? Why did they kill my boy?”
He could hear the girl swallow, taste her fear, seasoning the air around them.
“Chad got into a fight with his friends, telling them to stop, to leave her alone because she said no. They didn’t like that. That’s what Charlotte told my uncle. She said they called her a squaw, and he told them to not call her that, too. A big fight broke out. Chad beat up one of the guys really bad, and then the guy he was beating on got angry. He pulled out a gun and shot him. The guys all carried him, put him outside, on the side of the building, and they took off in a panic. They left my cousin there with him. She tried to… she tried to help him, but she said he was already dead. She took off running, scared they’d come back and kill her, too. She kept running and running, almost froze to death, but then, she made it to a main road and got a ride home. She remained in the hospital for a week.”
The girl started to sob.
“Honey, please don’t cry. You’ll draw attention to yourself. Can I ask why nobody said anything to the police?”
“The police?” She turned around, her face now redder than before. Pulling out a tissue from his pocket, he slipped it discreetly to her. She dabbed it on her face.