Document of Expectations

Monday, 1:00 p.m.

160 thirty dinners from a local mexican restaurant arrived at roxanne’s house. When tony’s mother asked who sent them, the delivery man said, “from the anthropology department, in honor of tony smoke rise.” roxanne and Warren, who sat on the big den sofa, said in unison, “send them back.” the young man balked, but Warren tipped him and his attitude lightened. “send them back,” he said again, softer. they didn’t want food from those people. they didn’t need it anyway. food came from tony’s friends and admirers all over town, as did flowers and notification of monetary contributions to charities in tony’s name. roxanne leaned against her kitchen doorframe, scanning the immense buffet of meats, fruit, rolls, pies, and casseroles. one of the Hopi women stood quietly next to her. “not everyone is bad,” she said. “You and tony have many friends.” “i know,” she answered. “But the bad people keep trying to take up their slack.” monDaY, 1:00 p.m. tony’s funeral day began clear and bright. mourners developed aches from a sleepless night followed by dozing in the early morning that wasn’t enough for tired bodies and minds. they drank coffee and juice, knowing that if they didn’t, their headaches would worsen. family and friends managed to dress. two limos picked up tony’s family. “come with us,” arlene smoke rise told roxanne. roxanne shook her head. “Better go with Warren.” she gave arlene a kiss on the cheek. the church was large enough to accommodate those who wanted to say goodbye to tony. roxanne recognized the mayor, the county superintendent , the supervisor of the school district, and cHu’s president. Her blood boiled when she saw that the anthropology department was represented by all of the faculty. she felt comforted at the sight of Detectives Blue Hawk and clarke and especially of her friends who had flown in to pay their respects. part of what 161 kept her going was the normal people outside of cHu. still, her breath quickened at the sight of her anthropology colleagues. the first two rows filled with family and other indians. renell and roscoe sat in the third row behind roxanne and Warren and next to the out-of-town friends. Giselle the toot had stayed with a neighbor so that Warren could tend to his wife; he felt unsure how roxanne would react to the funeral, especially since on the way to the church she had taken two percocets on the heels of Vicodin. samantha Brazzi and paul Deerbourne sat close to the front, and pauley Wenetae found a place in the middle, with Ben rogers and his wife just ahead of the rest of the cHu contingency, which clustered together towards the back. the detectives sat behind everyone in hopes of gathering information. “Guilty parties rarely laugh at funerals,” monique said to clarke, “but hope springs eternal that the perp’ll do something to give himself away. Keep your eyes open.” she was eyeing rogers’s wife, whose funeral jewelry looked gaudy even from fifty feet away. “You’re fidgeting, monique,” commented clarke. “no i’m not.” “Yeah you are. Don’t you go to church?” “nope.” “Why not?” “churches make me nervous.” “How come?” “i don’t like how people who go to church behave.” “You mean while they’re in church?” “no.” “You mean when they’re out of the church.” “not all christians act christ-like. and christians did more to wipe out our people and cultures than any other group. Yeah. i have problems with that.” “not everyone is a hypocrite, monique. a lot of people mean well.” “i know that, clarke. i may not be a christian, but i am religious and i have morals. i know a hypocrite when i meet one. these days, we’re surrounded by them.” she studied the huge wooden cross on the wall behind 162 the flowers and the casket and the minister, who began his remarks about tony smoke rise, a man he didn’t know. after the minister gave his commentary, one of the Hopi men stepped to the podium and spoke at length in Hopi. the indians in the front rows who represented various tribes sat at attention, while others who sat in the back shuffled their feet in annoyance. ross clipper, sitting on the aisle with his wife and Belinda rinds, sighed...