Bone Dance Read Free Page B

Lonny’s hands.
    â€œLook!” he said, rolling it over to show Pop how the base of the skull had been crushed.
    â€œWasn’t done in by badgers,” Pop said, staring hard through his grease-speckled glasses. “Stone war mallet, probably.”
    He sat on an old stool in the shed, cleaning motor parts, wiping them down with a rag, his big bony hands covered with black grease.
    â€œYou told me a great chief was buried there, Pop,” said Lonny, feeling cheated.
    â€œProbably more than one person buried up there. We’ll never know for sure.” Pop looked straight into Lonny’s eyes. “We have to leave them be, son.”
    A westerly breeze blew through the open door and windows, and Lonny’s mom appeared, leaning against the doorway. “What’s up?” Her cool slim fingers reached to tuck his hair behind his ears.
    â€œLook what we found!” Robert turned proudlywith their prize still cupped in his hands. Her eyes widened.
    â€œWe found it on Medicine Bluff,” Lonny told her. “A badger dug it up.”
    â€œBury it,” she said, turning away. “Go back there, and bury it.”
    â€œCan’t we keep it awhile?” Lonny pleaded.
    Pop bent again over his work. “Do what your mother says. Even badgers have no business disturbing the dead.”
    â€œHe was just being a badger.” Lonny pouted.
    â€œSpade’s over there in the corner,” said Pop.
    So he and Robert took the spade and the skull, reluctantly got on their bikes, and wheeled back to Medicine Bluff.
    â€œStupid badger,” said Lonny, pressing his foot on the blade, digging deep into the rich dark heart of the hill. The smell of sage and bergamot rose up from the loamy upturned soil. The badger was either not at home or had moved somewhere else. Lonny kept on digging.
    Robert stood beside him, arms folded. “Are you going to just keep doing that? How much more are you going to dig?”
    â€œShut up,” said Lonny. “Don’t ask dumb questions.”
    â€œI want to dig, too. I want to find out what’s in there.”
    â€œThen take the damn shovel. Here.”
    They took turns digging. They unearthed what might have been the remains of a child: a leg bone, asmall rib, a tiny skeletal hand. By then, neither of them was brave enough to stop. Only a couple of feet beneath the surface of the mound, they began to unearth a complete skeleton, a big one. It was buried in a crouching position. They dug with the shovel. They dug with their hands. They found a shell necklace, a portion of a clay pot, a perfect pale arrowhead mixed in with the bones of the skeleton’s ribs. They dug with a queer and giddy energy until Lonny shot up from the mound and sat on the edge of it, grabbing mouthfuls of air.
    He prayed for the sun to vaporize the feelings that were creeping in around him. Down the hill the poplar leaves shook like tongues in the wind.
    Robert came up from the mound, too, gasping. His freckles stood out like startled dots against his white skin. “I feel sick,” he said, weaving back down one side of the hill.
    When Robert returned, Lonny quickly swiped tears from his eyes with the backs of his hands.
    â€œI didn’t think it’d be like this,” Robert said.
    â€œLiar,” said Lonny. “What’d you think we’d find— a couple of arrowheads?”
    â€œWhy didn’t you stop?”
    â€œWhy didn’t
you
stop?”
    They put everything back as best they could. They even patted back the clumps of prairie grass and flowers, the blazing star, the bergamot, the scented sage, so that all would appear as normal as possible. Then they got on their bikes and rode off the property.Behind them the bruised spirits rose and shook themselves from a long uneasy sleep.
    Two nights later his mother died. She just crumpled in front of his stepfather at a dance. He hadn’t been there to see it but could