September 30, 2031, 12:15 PM?
Deputy Daniel Deer of the Raven Reservation Police came through the front door.
A tall man with thin red hair in ponytail and a van dyke beard, he surprised both Don and Tap.
Tapas tried to ask politely. “I could not help but notice, but you do not look like an Indian.”
Deer was slightly annoyed. “Well, you do. Sorry Mr. Kalki, but most tribal societies traded members and accepted outsiders. When Europeans showed up it was just expanding a healthy gene pool. Unfortunately some people think that blood defines culture. Do you?”
Tap bowed. “Forgive me. As you see Mr. Loman is wide awake, despite my efforts.”
Deer crouched down in front of Loman on the sofa. “Shelley, is Sherman all right?”
Loman sneered. “The bastards shot him!”
Deer turned to Tap. “You could have emptied your gun into him and had no effect. Hell, you could have used a real gun and only slowed him down. It is a lucky thing we intervened. Our trackers probably will not find the shooter if she is like Mr. Loman here.”
At that point, the paramedics came in and took Loman to the ambulance in a stretcher.
Don looked at his watch it said 12:20 PM. The clock on the microwave oven said 12:25 PM. “Hey Tap, what time is it?”
Tap looked at his Rolex. “It is 12:15 PM.”He noticed the clock on the living room wall said 12:05 PM. “Deputy Deer, what time is it?”
Deer laughed. “I see you finally noticed. If you had killed him, you would have been here all day. As you will see tonight, it is not a good idea to mess with people like him. Let us go. It is always time for lunch.”
Copyright 2006 DJ Cline. All rights reserved.