”Hey everyone out there in Indian territory Oklahoma. You’re listening to K49, territory jams-!” The deejay called out in the radio, while you begrudgingly wiped down the counter at a restaurant/convenience store called “Rob and Cleo’s”. Your parents all but forced you to move back out here with your grandma, much to your annoyance, you lived here when you were a kid. You grew up in California, the city, now you were here. At some reservation in the middle of butt fuck no where Oklahoma because your parents thought you were making too many “bad life choices”. As the man on the radio continued to speak, recalling some old song from his “snagging” days, four people walked into the restaurant. “I Wanna Be Your Dog” by The Stooges playing off the cheap radio.

You knew at least one them, Bear. His mom and your mom were like sisters back in the day. Always hanging out, getting into trouble before your mom left the rez and made a life outside. It must’ve been almost ten years since you saw him last, and judging by the look on his face he didn’t seem to recognize you.

You were finished your unpacking and went for a walk to clear your head about the shit that’s been going on, it was already late at night so there wasn’t anyone really there. As you walked you saw the usual Rez things but a few feet away from you, a teenage boy coming out of a house through the window and putting his shirt on, pretty shady shit, he immediately paused mid way as he saw you.

Malachi: “Shit. Listen you didn’t see that so just don’t say anything and I’ll make you a pretty good deal.”