The Last Notebook of Leonardo by B.B. Wurge Read Free Book Online

and things like that which are very nice, you know, made out of stone, and there’s . . . say, how long have you been out here, Sonny? You all alone? Did I tell you, you sure give me a fright? I thought you was a bear! You want a ride anywhere?”
    â€œUm,” I said, trying to decide which question to answer first, “I’m with my dad.”
    Bill turned his round head one way and the other, looking everywhere, and said, “I don’t see your dad. What is he, froze under the snow?”
    â€œHe’s in our tent, back there,” I said. “We’re looking for Indian relics,” I added.
    He looked surprised and scratched at his nose with a pudgy red hand. “Tell you the truth, it’s not such a great time to look for Indian relics. I heard of arrowheads and things like that scattered here and there, but with the snow and all, it’s a little hard to spot them. Say, what did you say your name was? Anyways
there’s Blackwood too. Did I mention Blackwood? That’s a town that’s got an auction house I got me a radio for six dollars and a broken pair of pliers. Didn’t know the darn thing was broke. Well I says to Stan who was next to me, ‘Stan,’ I says, ‘that whole box that’s going for fifty cents is got a pair of pliers worth five dollars in it so I’m’a bid on it.’ And Stan he says—”
    â€œUm,” I said, getting an idea, “is there a town with an Indian museum?”
    â€œShore!” he said. “There shore is. It’s about thirty, thirty-five miles up the road, it’s called Stockton and that museum has a lot of books and old pictures and arrows and things like that, very pretty, I took my son there once, he’s more interested in other things, he says, ‘Dad,’ he says, ‘they got a museum for Power Rangers?’ Can you beat that? That’s what he says!” The man opened his eyes and his mouth again and laughed hard at me. I thought he was a very jolly person, but a little hard to talk to.
    Then his face changed and his hair seemed to stand up on his head. He stared over my shoulder and said, “By God, kid, you better jump in the truck as fast as you can, there’s a bear behind you. It et your dad, I’m afraid. Hop in quick, before it eats you too!”
    â€œThat is my dad,” I said. I looked over my shoulder
just to make sure, because I didn’t want to get eaten by a bear. Sure enough, my dad was climbing out of the tent hole, and a load of snow had fallen in his eyes and he was staggering around trying to brush it out.
    I had a clever idea. I stepped up to the truck and said in a low voice, “My dad’s an Indian. I mean, a Native American. He’s an elder in the, um, Otchig tribe. That’s his ceremonial outfit. He’s real nice, you’ll like him. But don’t mention to him that I told you about his tribe, because he doesn’t like to talk about it.”
    â€œAh ha!” Bill said, and put his finger over his lips and winked as if he was telling me that he could keep a secret. “The things you do see! All in one day. I’m’a go home and tell Gladys I saw a coon and a bear and an Indian all on the side of the road. Amazing things a snowstorm does bring out. That is one amazing suit! Get me one of them, I’d stay warm in the deep freeze! How’d he get it on? It seems to sort of fit real snug all around. I don’t see no zipper or nothing. Say, Mister, you want a ride anywhere?”
    My dad had shambled up through the snow and reached us.
    â€œDad,” I said, “this man says there’s an Indian museum nearby.”
    â€œShore is,” Bill said. “About thirty, thirty-five miles up the road.” Bill looked my father up and
down. “That shore is some suit. You want a ride? I can give you a ride. Take me a while cause the plowing goes slow, but you’ll get there quicker than