Novel excerpt from Chapter #1 of The Mask Of Tomorrow
In Canyon County, Two Folds was known by two different names because he could rightly be considered two very different people.
Out on the reservation, and to members of his tribe, he was referred to by the name, Dee Dee. That was the name given to him as a baby.
Everywhere else though Dee Dee went by his nickname, Two Folds.
By and large, nicknames are not given. They are earned. And Two Folds earned his on account of his size, because he had always been so skinny that it required two folds of a normal sized blanket around his narrow hips to keep it up.
When silhouetted against the long prairie sunset, Two Folds appeared as straight and slender as a highway signpost.
Was Two Folds the best negotiator in Canyon County? Owl thought he was. Short Pipe couldn’t think of anyone better.
As Frank sat on the bottom step and lit a cigarette, he hoped that he was.
One way or another though, Two Folds would have to pull a rabbit out of a hat if they were going to successfully complete the transaction anytime soon.
The parties had decided on an awful morning to negotiate an out of doors sale. They had pulled into the parking lot at a few minutes past eight o’clock, only to step out of their cars into air that was hot and dense with unseasonable humidity. Counties along the east side of the mountains were only a week into their first real summer heat wave and already smoke from forest fires further east, and to the north had laid a blanket of smoke as far as anyone could see in all directions. The word ‘drought’ was on everyone’s mind, but they hardly dared utter it. The county was desperate for a good dose of rain to wash away the choking stench, but there was none anywhere in the forecast.
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