Chapter 12 | A Mangling of the Timeline

Behind the hospital tent, the Medicine Man is pacing while chewing on a pipe. Chief Pontiac and LTC Custer are laying out maps, dropping pins and strings, drawing circles with a compass while Custer shakes his head, saying “the timeline’s all wrong!”

“Never mind the timeline. I need you to organize a search party.”

“Sure, boss. What you got?”

“Not what,” said Pontiac. “Who.”

Custer’s eyebrows went up. “You've got my attention, sir.”

“Minnie.” He paused a moment. “And Joe.”

Custer was not one to turn down a challenging assignment. He'd proven himself time and again through the ups and downs of a storied career. Ever since joining forces with Chief Pontiac seven years ago, he'd made a name for himself as a talent scout and leader of search parties. He could find anyone, anywhere. And bring them back alive and willing. But Minnie? And Joe? They'd fallen out with the Chief and gone back to Algiers, to the black magic mysteries of their youth. Sure, there'd been letters, and time heals all wounds, you might even say they were friends, and all was forgiven. However, nobody had actually seen them all these years, and word was that they'd split, that there was another Joe, a better Joe, a Joe of a different color.

Minnie could pick a guitar like the devil himself. They say she was born with a fistful of strings and a chord in her heart, and she could sing before she could even cry. By the time she was six, she was the undisputed champion of the circuit. Nobody knew where it came from, or how she got to be so good. The masters came from all four corners to pay homage to the six string savant. And that voice! Impeccable tone strewn with exquisite gravel, as if her vocal cords had been rough cut with diamond dust.

Custer laughed. “Yes. Hell yes.” For all he knew, Minnie could have high tailed to Hades and opened up a liquor store. “But why bring her back after all this?” As if the Chief needed a reason. As if he needed to share it with Custer, or anyone.

Pontiac was staring into space, dreaming of pine forests and moonbeams. “We need to make things right again.” He's thinking about the boy, red headed Mike, on his journey to the sky. And the captured Assailant, with the poison darts. “The world’s closing in, and I've got a damn circus to run.”

“Fair enough. I'll bring you back Minnie. And Joe. How much time we got?”

The Chief was scribbling notes on a napkin. “I figure on six weeks. What do you think?”

“Give me three.”

The Chief put down his pencil. If Custer said three, it was three. Custer was to searches as Minnie was to the Muses. “Go see Dido. She’ll set you up.” Custer already knew that. When you needed cash and crew, you went to see Dido. She was not just Queen in name, she got things done, which is why she and Custer got along so well. She asked a lot of questions, good ones, most of the time, but with Custer, she gave him slack. Custer got things done, too. But most people didn’t ask him too many questions. They only cared that he got things done.

Pontiac laughed. “Three weeks, huh?”

“Three weeks. The hard part’s not the finding.” Assuming she was in Algiers, the obstacles were known and surmountable. Rough terrain. Bandits. Bad weather. The rest of the equation would have to be deciphered. What was Minnie up to now? Could she walk away? And what about Joe, whichever one happened to be on scene. Chief Pontiac was adamant about Original Joe, Kansas Joe. Had to be Kansas Joe. Chief Pontiac’s not a sentimental man, at least not as it pertains to the circus. But he wasn’t sharing details on why only Kansas Joe would do. Custer supposed it was a musical chemistry question, and on that he was not qualified to ponder. He’d have to wait and see what he found at the other end, in Algiers, a place most people couldn't wait to get out of. Hell, Minnie got out. Why she went back is anybody's guess. But then, Minnie wasn't like most people. Just ask Joe. Either one. Ask anybody. She fought like the devil wherever she went, always up against people saying you can't do that, but “oh yeah, watch me,” she'd laugh, and do what she set out to do.

She must've run out of patience, or maybe her mama got sick, and it was time to go home and look after the old girl who brought her into this world. Chief Pontiac used to say she had no mama, that the wolves must've scooped her out of the river and raised her. But that's just Chief Pontiac talking, the same way he used to warn Custer he'd get lost in the wild and eaten someday.

When Custer looked up, he realized he'd been walking and dreaming. “Finding is easy,” he announced to no one. “But keeping?” Custer knew all about how hard it is to keep the ones you love. Like Pontiac, he was partial to the original, Kansas Joe, if only because he was the original. Didn't matter what, if anything, he'd done to estrange Minnie. Most anything can be forgiven. Isn’t that what the judge had told him when he busted him down a rank? Son of a bitch. Pausing a moment to catch the setting sun, he shoved a half written letter into his pocket and set off to find Queen Dido.