He had been a sweet boy with lonesome eyes, polite. He looked bad, his face swollen and black. Me and you done our work too well. Deets kept holding the baby out toward the tribe and smiling, trusting that the young brave would realize he was friendly.
You shut up, or I'll kill you like I killed that chigger, Blue Duck said. That night, camping alone, he dreamed of Gus. I told you yesterday. I wanta see Dee.
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