Tony and the Moose
AN: I did my best with the Arapaho language, my efforts were respectful, even if inaccurate. Why moose? I have a thing for them – I want a pet one…
I know I said last chapter, but you know I'm hopeless at estimating.
chapter 4
Tony never asked what the brothers talked about as they made their way down the mountain; he walked with the two LEOs and their three prisoners, calling Tim to offer profound thanks to all three of his DC back-up team as he went. Bobby Soke kept ranting about police brutality, until Tony had had enough.
"It's fed brutality, asshole. You were taken down by a retired fed and a civilian. And considering that you had my friend tied up and had just threatened to kill him, you're lucky that you got the minimum force necessary. If I'd let his brother loose on you, you'd have known about violence. If you want to sue me, go right ahead. I know one of the best lawyers in Wyoming." Soke shut up.
A second patrol car was waiting to take one prisoner, and Tony was taken up on his offer to drive Hammer's vehicle back so it wouldn't be left cluttering up a small parking lot. He found he was oddly pleased to have the easy acceptance of these local police officers; it wasn't like that in DC! His real motive was not to ride back with Hart and Bear, so they'd have more time to talk. He had no idea if they needed it, but when they regrouped at the Laramie police HQ, it was obvious to him that he was seeing more of the young braves he remembered so well from almost ten years ago.
Aleksa had called her mom to sit with the baby, and ran in just as they all arrived, and Tony caught the look of pride on Bear's face, as his wife, without resentment for the cold-shoulder they'd both been getting, and with her priorities straight, ran straight to his brother, threw her arms around him and hugged him.
"Hart! I'm so glad you're safe!" Hart looked a bit nonplussed at first, but then gave in willingly enough, and returned the embrace, until Aleksa let him go and went to hug her husband. Tony affected a put out sulk, until Bear nudged his wife, and he got his hug.
o0o0o
After the court case that morning was dealt with very quickly; (the plaintiff's lawyer having been called off to visit Hammer in custody, his junior withdrew gracefully,) they all decided to go up to Wind River to see the brothers' parents. It took a day to arrange, with Bear setting his office up to manage without him, and Hart making sure no courses were booked for him to lead for a few days. 'Hell,' his Boss said, 'if I'd been kidnapped and tied up in a shed, I'd need some time off!' During that time Tony caught up on lost sleep, or covertly observed the brothers, or had to put up with being effusively thanked by them. He didn't know whether his hunch about envy had been right, but whatever, Hart seemed to be dealing with it. He'd find out soon enough; he was just happy to see it, and wasn't going to push.
o0o0o
Hazel and Moss Mackie lived at the tiny, far flung community of Kinnear, where they both worked for the same company; Moss as an irrigation engineer, Hazel as a nurse. Their comfortable, one storey house was a little way off Highway 26, (which Tony was excited about because keep going and it became 191- and you got to Yellowstone…) He'd looked at the place on Google earth, as was his habit – as well as a massive irrigation project, there was a roundish, ink-blot shaped lake a couple of miles wide, with turquoise water, which he guessed was why it was called Ocean Lake. There was a spit of land projecting out into the water in the south-west; looking at it close up it looked like a dog's barking head. From higher up…. Well, he'd never, ever tell anyone what it reminded him of. Really, Anthony...
Both Mackies were standing eagerly at their door waiting for their visitors; it wasn't often that they got both boys at once, and now they were getting the friend they'd spoken of so frequently, but whom they'd never met. They were also, Hazel remarked hopefully to her husband, going to see some sort of sea-change in their elder son, whom they'd spent a year worrying about and seldom seeing.
Tony had had to pull over and wait several times, taking in the landscape, sometimes burned brown, sometimes lush green because of the irrigation. The Ram moved at a more sedate pace, mostly out of respect for the sleeping baby, and he didn't want to arrive before the family, so now he and Destina purred gently in behind the truck. There were hugs and greetings, (including a huge one for Tony from Hazel,) laughter and smiles all round, and a blinking Jasper was handed to his Gran to be cooed over. Moss, strong and stocky like Hart, gave Tony a twinkling eyed once-over.
"So you're the young man who keeps leading my boys off on hare-brained adventures? As if they need any encouraging?"
Tony took it in the spirit it was meant, and smiled wryly. "Well, I guess I was young when it all started. They helped me out… couldn't stop them, really… this, this was different, though."
Moss stuck out a strong hand. "No telling what would have happened to Hart without you," he said. "Or Bear. It would have hurt him almost as much to sink his principles as if something had happened, although he wouldn't have hesitated… either way things were bad. We owe you."
Tony shook his head deprecatingly. "Hart told that Soke guy that Bear would find a way to rescue him and not lose the case. He was right. Sure… I rescued Hart – with help – but I didn't have anything to do with putting his head back on straight. And anyway, friends don't keep tabs. Ten years ago, they accepted me… befriended me even… you know? Maybe I owe them, Mr. Mackie."
"Moss. Come on, food's ready." The meal was being carried out to a table under a shady tree. "Or… you might want to go inside and change out of all that leather stuff first!"
Tony agreed it would be a good idea, and did so quickly, so as not to keep everyone waiting for lunch. The afternoon passed in good conversation, and while the subject of Hart's exile never came up, Tony caught many a happy look between Hazel and Aleksa as they watched someone they loved mending himself in good company.
After a while, Hazel brought Tony a cold drink, and sat beside him. As he thanked her, she said without preamble, "Moss says you don't think you had anything to do with Hart coming back to us."
"Hazel, I didn't. All I did was get him away from the bad guys and leave him plenty of space to talk to his brother. Looks like they did."
"That counts as having something to do with it as far as I'm concerned. They both talked to me yesterday… you were catching up on your lost sleep, apparently… Hart said he was in such a state he didn't even know how to talk to females any more… and he couldn't stand to see someone else's happiness, but he didn't want Bear to think he grudged him it, so he stayed away, even more once Jasper arrived!"
"And the more he stayed away, the harder it got to change things. Hard for an intelligent person to understand why they get into that state and then can't get out. Which just makes it worse."
"You're right," the First Nations woman said ruefully. "It's like the rabbit who jumped into a hole, to hide from the hawk, you know? At first the hole seemed safe, but then it was such a small, narrow place to be."
"So he wanted to jump out," Tony agreed, "But he couldn't see over the top, and he didn't know what was out there, so maybe he was safer where he didn't like to be, so he went round and round inside the hole -"
"And dug himself further in," the softly spoken woman said. "He's out now, and it has something to do with your coming."
Tony shrugged. "Maybe he knew he was going to have to talk to me, cuz I'd just push until I got an answer. My partner at NCIS used to call me DiNosy. But you know, we were listening outside the hut where they were holding Hart, and we heard him say he'd do something. To fix things with Bear. It wasn't me, Hazel. He'd already decided to jump out of his hole."
She nodded, and looked at him seriously. Hazel Mackie, Tony thought, had eyes that could see right down into your soul. Not like Gibbs, who glared at you wanting to think he could read your thoughts – this lady was the real deal. He found his heart beating a little faster under that look, but he didn't feel threatened.
"I think," she said delicately, "that you jumped out of yours."
Just for a moment, all the weariness he'd driven half way across North America to escape, threatened to land on his shoulders again. No… he wasn't having that - he shoved it off again, hard, and what do you know, it wasn't difficult.
"Oh, Hazel," he sighed, "I rather think I was pushed."
"Mmm… you'd still be there if it wasn't for your lungs?"
Tony thought of what Abby had said about Destina and the open road. "Ah… no, I guess not. Or I'd have one foot out of the door. You're right, I was on my way. OK… I jumped. I couldn't stay in that hole."
"Tony, you're on a Spirit Journey," the Native woman told him with such absolute certainty that the instant denial that began to spring to his lips died away.
Utterly astonished, Tony could only ask, "What makes you say that?"
"You've seen things. Done things. Changed things in a good way."
"Well, yes… er, I mean… Hazel, how do you know?"
"It's written all over you. You started long ago; it's only now that you're really noticing. Do you know your destination?"
"The mountains somewhere. BC maybe."
"Are you bothered that things aren't clearer than that?"
"No..." Tony said truthfully, "And I don't care how long it takes to find out."
Hazel smiled. She took both of his hands, and held them together between her own. "You see?" He did, sort of. "Tony, the thing you need to know about a spirit journey is that it does come to an end. The spirit isn't meant to wander forever."
"How will I know?"
"It's not always the same for everyone, Hookootenowoo. But you'll know. You'll be whole, and you'll be happy. And Tony, when that happens, you let me know, and I'll say I told you so." She paused. "I should fetch more cold drinks; it's a warm day." She smiled, got up and went back into the house, leaving Tony sitting there, stunned.
He was trying to work out what that Arapaho word was, get his tongue around it, when Hart ambled over, a wedge of corn bread in one hand, a light beer in the other. Tony found dark eyes, like his father's, regarding him quizzically.
"I see you've been talking to my Mom. You've met the force of nature that is Hazel, she leaves everyone with that WTF look on their faces. In the nicest possible way. She's already reamed me out – in the nicest possible way – for not talking to her when I was 'down the hole'! I couldn't say 'Aw, Mom', cuz I knew she was right. I said I was sorry for everything I'd put her through, and she said there was nothing to forgive, and meant it, but mind you if she ever met Dee again, she wasn't making any promises. That's Mom."
"You can say her name now," Tony said, and Hart looked surprised.
"Hey, yeah. Well, that's an improvement."
He could see Tony had something else on his mind. He waited, until Tony shook his head ruefully, and took a deep breath. "She said I was on a Spirit Journey." Hart didn't look surprised. "I think she called me an Arapaho name… sort of horgortenerwar?"
"Hookootenowoo." He repeated it slowly. "Haw-gaw-den-o-waw… I-change-things. She's right. You know you do. For other people, for the better." Now it was Hart's turn to take a long, deep breath. "I hope you're doing it for yourself. Bear says he felt every time you called over the last year, that you were having it tough. I was a bit too far down the hole to notice… anyhow… You know you've always said you want to see Yellowstone? It's not that far away; we were all thinking of dragging you up there tomorrow. Stay a night, make sure you see as much as you can. We'll go in convoy, so you can take that cool ride of yours, and go on up north afterwards."
Tony was astonished, and delighted. "You'd all come with me? I mean, I was heading out that way, but to go with friends, who know the place… that's just… heck, brilliant."
They set out early the next morning; the brothers in their faithful Ram, Aleksa travelling with her in-laws and baby Jasper in their roomy Ford. Roomy was the excuse of course, grandparent time spent with a baby who was either sunny or sleepy was the truth of the matter. They were there by mid-morning, and spent the rest of the first day doing the sights that everyone knew. Tony's favourite, although they didn't have an accurate prediction for it and had to scramble when the warning went out, was the Beehive geyser, (across the river from the famous and predictable Old Faithful,) which had a little indicator geyser next to it that went off maybe ten minutes before.
"Beehive Indicator..." Tony mused. "Couldn't they have been a bit more original? Called it the Little Bee or something?" Nobody had an answer.
Unsurprisingly, there hadn't been one room, let alone three, available at the highly popular (and expensive) Old Faithful Inn, but they'd been able to book a couple of the cabins, so they ate food they'd brought with them, and in the evening sat outside, watching Old Faithful showing off as the sun went down. Tony wasn't the only one who grinned to himself as he watched Hart chatting amiably to three back-packing girls from the cabin next door.
Next morning they packed plenty of food; Jasper was in his own backpack, perfectly content on whichever back happened to be available, including Tony's. They walked up to see the Lone Star geyser, and made the trip up to the Artist's Viewpoint, which was breathtaking; those of them who'd seen it before said 'Told ya', and those who hadn't were too in awe to say anything much.
About 5pm, as they walked back to the cabins, where the Mackies intended to stay on another night, Tony looked at his watch and huffed a sigh. It was about a four hour ride to Missoula, where he'd booked into a well-known chain, simply because it was on the far side of the town so he'd be away more easily in the morning. He had two sights he'd planned to see, and then… then, he'd be in Vancouver. He almost shivered with excitement; destiny was closing in.
It was time to get on the road, to put an end to these rather wonderful people's unnecessary need to keep saying 'thank you' and let them get on with the rebuilding. He changed into his leathers, re-loaded Destina, and looked up to find the whole family hovering.
"I won't be far away," he said, because he couldn't think of anything else.
"See that you're not," Bear said. "we're going to need you in a couple of months."
"You are?"
Aleksa grinned, blue eyes dancing. "My family are Catholics," she said. "They want a Christening for Jasper. We've chosen a Godfather… but he mustn't be too far away."
Tony nodded, and simply hugged her, lost for words. Everybody hugged him; Hazel hung back until last.
"I'll give you a better name" she said softly. "Or at least an easier one! The moose… he's strong, and way, way smarter than people think. He wanders far from where he was born, like you. Hinenihii… your spirit animal will guide you, until you don't need to wander any more." She kissed his cheek and stepped back; he put his helmet on, gave a quick wave, and steered the bike slowly up the road. There was a lump in his chest, let alone his throat. He'd see them again soon…
Destina sang her purring song to comfort and reassure him, but he was still restless. A moose, huh? A wandering hinenihii… back in DC they'd have called him a peacock. Or a parrot… It was small wonder that he was on his way next morning twenty minutes after the breakfast bar opened. There wasn't much traffic on the road at that hour; as he headed out into the country, he thought the same thing he thought every morning since somewhere around Sioux falls. "You're lucky to be seeing this, Anthony… did you even dream that your country is so beautiful?" For a while, he drove slowly enough to just drink it all in.
After picking up some food to eat at mid-day, he picked up speed a bit, and headed up towards the top of Lake Pend Oreille. He fancied it was shaped like an ear with a long lobe, but knew it was named for the First Nations people who had lived around its shores, who wore ear pendants. Had lived… he began to think of all the places he'd been where the native people didn't live any more, and the reservations he'd passed through… don't pick fights you can't win.
On the outskirts of a small pace called Hope, he found a pull-in beside the lake. It was sandwiched between the road and a railway line, but the view was beautiful. As he slowed down and stopped, he was aware of an elderly couple sitting outside their camper, who eyed him warily as he coasted past them. One of the useful things about an opaque visor was that you could look where you wanted… he'd given up eyeing girls in shorts though. He didn't want to disturb the couple, so he went to the end of the pull-in before dropping the stand, switching off and removing his helmet. The glorious mountain air hit his lungs with a whoosh. He fished in his backpack, dug out the taco he'd bought earlier, and practically inhaled it.
He crossed the road carefully, to take a few photographs, and as he walked back, the couple beckoned to him, smiling by now. "Coffee's on," the lady said, and they fell into an easy conversation about mountains, Italian motorcycles, 'We used to have an Aprilia'… being happy hoboes… and if he was going to Mount Baker to go up to Artist Point. He thanked them for the really good coffee, 'you're welcome', they said, and 'have a safe journey'. And after he'd gone, 'What a nice young man'.
Mount Baker next stop, but if he tried to do that and still reach Vancouver in the same day, he wouldn't have that safe journey, especially as he was taking whatever small roads he could find, to cut across between sections of interstate. His luck ran out as far as that was concerned, when he came to the small town of Hunters, where the mighty Columbia in the way meant he had to take to the highways again, so he stopped off to see the Grand Coulee Dam, and found a modest waterfront motel in Electric City. As he stepped off Destina, he could still feel the ground vibrating slightly under his feet.
The next day he knew he'd reach Vancouver – but with a detour to Maple Falls, to take his faithful steed right up the Mount Baker Highway, as he'd been told, to Artist Point. He visualised Destina as a horse, steaming and snorting, and patted her saddle. "Well worth it, old girl," he told her – and it was. He didn't have words to describe the light, or the colours, or the snow streaked rocks, or the sky reflected in the pool. He took photos to remember it by, but knew they'd never do it justice. He stayed for a while, absorbing the view as he had done so many other times, but this would be the last one in the USA. After a while, he eased the bike back down the hairpins of the highway. At Kendal he turned north again, and in less than half an hour, without any difficulty, he crossed into Canada at Sumas.
AN: Next chapter WILL be the last. I think.
