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his misery, too. Damned coward!”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Only a coward beats up on women and children.”
    “He abused us?”
    “You really don’t remember, do you?”
    “No, nothing.”
    “Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to tell you then.”
    “I’m not twelve anymore, Harvey. I’m thirty-six. I think I can handle the truth.”
    Harvey nodded, “I know. I guess I’ve just kept it to myself for so long – okay, here it goes. The truth of the matter is . . . well . . . if you must know...”
    “Blasted, Harvey. What could possibly be so bad?”
    “You killed your old man, that’s what.”
    “What?”
    “Yeah, that’s right. You heard me. You were 10 years old at the time. According to your mother, anyway.”
    “I don’t get it. I wouldn’t hurt a fly...”
    “You would if that fly was five-foot-ten, drunk, and beating your mother half to death.”
    “Damn. Why can’t I remember? I mean, that’s not exactly something you forget.”
    “Actually, I read somewhere that traumatic situations can cause amnesia, especially in children.”
    “Thank you, Dr. Harvey Psychiatric-know-it-all.”
    “Well, you asked, smart-ass.”
    “I didn’t go to jail,” Dalian said to himself. “I’m certain I’d have remembered going to jail.”
    “Well, you sure shootin’ could have, since they passed that law back in 2033 stating that anyone can be convicted for murder, age notwithstanding. But, in your case, the judge declared it self-defense and dropped the charges. Anyway, after your mother recovered from the beating, she tracked us down and asked if you could come live with us. By then, we owned a nice little parcel of land here in Wyoming, and agreed, but she never showed. We just figured she settled whatever problems she had and moved forward.”
    “But eventually she decided to get rid of me? Why? Because she couldn’t live with me knowing that I killed her husband?”
    “I wouldn’t put it that way – exactly.”
    “How would you put it – exactly?”
    “Peter.”
    “Who in hell is Peter?”
    “Your stepfather.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    Harvey knew that the tale was a convoluted one, but did his best to unravel the past without raising too many more questions or confusion, “I said that you had a stepfather, but I didn’t find out about him until I was twenty-two, and not until your mom showed up on our doorstep – two years after your dad was killed. I was a student at the University of Wyoming at the time, but home for a visit the day your mom showed up with you in tow. You were a scrawny thing. Looked like a strong wind could pick you up and carry you away. Anyway, your mother wasn’t alone. Peter – her fiancé then – accompanied her. She wanted you to have a life, but she wanted to be happy as well, and Peter was a good man.”
    “I don’t recall meeting anyone named Peter at the reservation.”
    “He probably died before she did then, because there isn’t a reason why she wouldn’t want you to meet him. Fact is, she loved that man, and he loved her. It was good to see her happy for once in her life.”
    “Damn, I not only killed my abusive father, but I was deserted by my mom so that she could find happiness with another man. Nice to know I was wanted.”
    “You were wanted, but you were also pretty screwed up and your mother felt it was best that you get away from home. Too many bad memories for you there. She was also worried because you were getting older, were already depressed, and the suicide rate for young men confined to reservations is damned high. She didn’t want to see you become a statistic. And since Peter is also Blackfoot, and wanted to remain on the reservation...”
    “So, my welfare was her primary concern. Is that it? And why can’t I remember any of this?”
    “Well, the fact that you can’t remember probably happened after your mom left you. Whew, were you a handful. A big enough handful that I dropped out of university to help Mom