Hey, Jimmyeee!

First day on the job and I've gotta find a naked guy. Must be some joke. Female officers not too popular on

Navajo Nation Police Force, no matter what books or TV say.

The weathered old man turns, embarrassed, asks how I know his name.

Your hat, sir. J-I-M-M-Y. Where are your clothes?

"Last thing I remember was tying burro near tipi," he explains.

I toss him a blanket from the truck, noting geese feathers everywhere. No blood, just feathers. Must

have been a whole flock of geese.

You know there's no hunting right now on the rez, right?

Jimmy nods. I hand him bottled water, Where can I drop you off?

"Home", he answers between slow sips. I jot down date, location, time, old guy, possible theft of tipi,

clothing, burro.

Where's home? I ask, starting the truck which needs a tune-up.

He spreads his arms wide, "Here."

I stop the truck. What's your real name?

He answers from faraway, "Atso' osi."

Checking for ghosts, for skinwalkers in rear and side view mirrors before telling him, Diné Bizand

will know what to do. Not saying I hoped she was still alive atop a mesa not far from here.


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