Return of the Indian

Omri flooded a bit of the cotton-wool from the box with the disinfectant and handed it to Twin Stars, making swabbing gestures to show her what it was for. She caught on quickly. With light, delicate strokes she cleaned the blood off Little Bull’s back. No more seemed to be coming from the holes. Omri, remembering that injured people have to be kept warm, and noticing that Twin Stars was shivering, snatched up one of the gloves he’d worn to school and recklessly cut the little finger off it with some scissors. The Indian was soon inside the woollen finger, which was like a sleeping-bag. Omri and Twin Stars looked at each other.

“How?” Omri asked. “How did it happen?”

Twin Stars’ face grew hard.

“Soldier,” she said. “Fight. Gun.”

“In the back?” Omri couldn’t help asking. It was hard to imagine anyone as brave as Little Bull getting shot in the back.

“Horse fall,” she said. “Little Bull lie. Ground. Soldiers shoot.” She pointed an imaginary weapon, a rifle, or a musket, gestured one, two, then waved her hand sharply to show the soldiers had run on, leaving Little Bull to die.

“You saw this?”

She nodded fiercely. “Woman see. Soldier come village. Braves fight. Soldier make fire in house. Kill many. Take prisoner. Braves chase. Out, out – far! Twin Stars hide. See Little Bull fall. See soldier…” She mimed shooting again. “Twin Stars run, catch pony, bring Little Bull home to village. All fire! Dead brave. Woman cry. I shut eyes, not see. Whoosh!” She made a strange noise like a rush of wind. Opened her eyes – and pointed at Omri with a look of acted surprise.

“And suddenly you were here.”

She nodded. “Spirits bring. You save.”

Omri gazed at her. He had not the very faintest idea of what to do, and here she was, trusting him.

“Don’t you think you’d be better at home – in the village?” he suggested helplessly.

She shook her head violently.

“Village all fire. Dead – dead!” She pointed everywhere on the ground. “No help. Omri only help Little Bull brother.”

Brother! Yes. Little Bull had swopped drops of blood with him in that last moment, making them blood-brothers. He must, he must find a way to help! But how?

At that moment, Little Bull stirred and groaned.

Instantly, Twin Stars crouched beside him. Omri, whose eyes had begun to get used to focusing on minute detail once again, noticed suddenly that she had grown fat. Could it be that…? But Little Bull was groaning and muttering. His legs were twitching. Omri forgot about Twin Stars’ new shape for the moment.

“What’s he saying?”

“Say, Omri, Omri’,” reported Twin Stars. There was more muttering, and then she said, “Now say, ‘brother’.” She looked up at him with a look he couldn’t bear.

He stood up.

“Listen,” he said hoarsely. “I have to bring help. I need something…” He looked at her. “Lend me your moccasins.” He pointed to her feet. Bewildered but obedient, she bent and took off the soft shoes made of bead-embroidered animal hide, and gave them to him. He wrapped them carefully in a twist of paper and put them in his pocket.

“Take care of him,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

6 Going for Help (#ulink_28437112-2b0a-5be3-a315-9a73e72f20fb)

Omri locked his bedroom door behind him and went downstairs.

It was Friday night (luckily, or he’d have had homework, which he wouldn’t have been able to do). His parents and Gillon were watching television. Adiel had gone out with friends.

“Mum, d’you remember Patrick?” He spoke very casually.

“Of course I remember Patrick.”

“He moved to the country.”

“I know.”

“I saw him last week.”

“Where?”

“Outside school. He said his mother had come back for a visit.”

“To her sister, I expect.” His mother turned back to the set.

“Her sister? I didn’t know Patrick had an aunt!”

“Don’t be silly, of course you did. She lived three doors down from our old house.”

Omri frowned, remembering. “With those two revolting little girls?”

“Tamsin and Emma. Bonkins or something. Donkins. They’re Patrick’s cousins.”

“D’you think Patrick might be there?”

“You can soon find out. I’ve still got her phone number in my book. It’s on the hall table.”