"How come every time Jake disappears, a weird truck comes into the picture?" Rosa spoke as the two walked, asking passerby's if they had seen the truck, or Jake, or even something like the weird horned… Uktena snake.
"Hey, it's not his fault, he's just…"
"An easy target."
"What?" Boyle hadn't been expecting that.
"He's got a big heart. And an ego. He notices everything, except when he's focused, then he notices nothing." Rosa was quiet for a minute, but when Boyle said nothing, she continued, "what do you wanna bet he was so focused on the coffee and getting back to the precinct, he didn't even notice there were other people around until it was too late?" Boyle didn't answer, but this time Rosa knew it was because he was thinking.
An older woman was sitting on a rocking chair on the porch of a neighborhood convenience store. Boyle jumped on the excuse to leave the topic be, "excuse me ma'am," he smiled at her as he spoke, "Would you be willing, or able to answer some questions?"
"Aren't ya a sweet kid, what's 'it you wanna ask, yunegv?" (proper spelling for the term: white man, this time it is meant as a sort of nickname, even with a bit of an endearing edge. Names in every language, especially nicknames, often take on different meanings based on tone. Like imagine if Jake called Gina a goose as an insult, there would be riots in the streets. My own family lovingly calls my la Guerra, but if someone outside the family calls me it, I jump on the occasion to call them pendejo(a). No one calls me yunegv because I used to get bullied in the language so it's just always going to have that edge for me… BACK TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMING)
"Have you seen this truck?" Boyle held up a picture, while Rosa focused on the word.
"Yuh-nay-guh?" She wrinkled her nose.
"Yes sweets, means white man, it's sweet calling, for sweet person." She took her time looking at the truck, "the western band couple, they own it, I seen it bout a hour ago, was goin fast, musta missed a collection."
"You mean shipment?" Boyle asked, and the woman nodded,
"Yes, that."
"Ma'am, are you a tsiaalaagiah?" Boyle still couldn't pronounce it right… but he tried,
"Cha la gi." The old woman pronounced carefully, watched Boyle pronounce it, then continued, "born 'n raised on the rez, not been home in seasons, don't think its even there 'nymore."
"Could you tell us more about the Uktena?"
The woman's features darkened, "why you ask about the evil snake, our ancestors prayed to it, but it killed them anyway." She stared at the two, sudden suspicion alight in her eyes.
"What?"
"The evil snake- would kill 'nyone who came to close, had large horns, and was made by the little people."
"How did it die?" Boyle was intrigued, especially by the past tenses.
The woman launched into the legend as though it were a practiced affair, which it actually was, "a young boy from the Shawnee was held captive by the tribe, we made a promise, if he could kill the great Uktena, which could only be pierced on the seventh stripe, then he could go free. The Uktena had horns, and in its blood was black poison.
The Shawnee boy searched for days before finding its home. He made a ring of fire, and took a great spear. He shouted, "Freedom or Death!" and pierced the great snake on its seventh stripe. Then, as poison flowed, he jumped into the middle of the fire ring.
The poison was destroyed by fire, and the snake bled out. A great lake was formed by blood of the Uktena, and its black water was used as dye for baskets. The Shawnee boy was given freedom as promised, and the death of the Uktena was recorded carefully in our stories."
"Oh, so like that show for teenagers about a town run by syrup."
The woman stared at him for a second before, "no."
Rosa tried to get the conversation back on track, something about the lack of urgency was getting to her, "you did see the vehicle, where was it going?"
"To the warehouse."
"Warehouse?"
"Oh, fifteen years back a group of angry tribe members broke from the eastern band, decided to make the dangerous magic path and revive the great Uktena, they did come out here. They bought a warehouse near the end of the city, 'n live in it. All the Indians in the area know of it, and stay far from it. You do not mess with the little people."
"The little people are the only ones that can make an Uktena, aren't they?" Somehow Boyle was keeping track of all the weirdness.
"Yunegv, they make them from a man." She got a very dark look on her face, "it's said they do it in return for a forever child."
Boyle looked interested and was about to ask another question, but Rosa interrupted.
"Do you have the address for that warehouse?" Rosa took out a pen and her notebook.
A/N: Okay Hi! this is the last chapter for today, Merry Christmas, God bless ya'll! I want to thank everyone for the reviews, especially the guests since I can't reply privately, I gotta do it here. Cherokee pronunciation differs mostly on the vowels, so they go in order: A, E, I, O, U, V, S- ah, eh, ee, oh, oo, uh, sh or s. and ts makes the ch sound. Any fellow Cherokee, please don't yell at me if I got a legend wrong, I do this mostly from memory. Also yeah, its true, many older natives, and even younger ones too, but more in the minority, don't give a shit, they're all like, yeah, duh, we're Indians. me and my brother are a little brutal to each other, if we take something from the other sibling, it is their prerogative to call the thieving sibling a "dirty indjin." then the response is, "I shower more than you, filthy pilgrim." Oh the joys of being mixed race. ANYWAYS, merry Christmas, Happy Hanuka, and see ya'll later!