Chapter one: May, 1980
It had just turned daylight when we pulled the yellow Chevy station wagon into the small town of Cass Lake. The morning was dawning warm and sunny. Roland was driving. I had been sleeping in the front seat next to him, and his nephew Matthew and Matthew’s girlfriend were sleeping in the back seat. Roland drove through the treeless streets of the tribal tract housing and pulled into the dirt driveway of a yellow house. It was early, but the sun was already beating down. It was going to be a hot day.
Roland honked his horn. Out of a rundown shed from back behind the house, a heavy woman with long black hair emerged unsteadily and stood in its doorway. Roland called her over to the car.
Coughing, Annie unsteadily crossed the grass and came up next to the driver’s side. The smell of alcohol wafted through the window.
They greeted each other and Roland asked where the wake was being held.
“Up to Bug school,” she said, and then bent her head to throw up on the ground.
Roland averted his eyes and patiently waited.
Lifting her head, Annie and Roland spoke briefly again before he said good-bye and pulled the car back out of the driveway.
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The U.S. Government has set up a system that allows crime and corruption to occur unchecked and without repercussion on many reservations – using and abusing a people group for the sake of power and money for the few at the top.