done with all that. We're servants to no one now."
Ahcho spoke calmly to the man. "Let go of me and we'll leave."
The man pulled a knife from a sheath at his waist. "Before you go, I think I'll cut off your queue," the young thug said. "That would shock the old-timers who serve the white people. Imagine if you returned to the Christian compound with the new short hairstyle. You'd be a laughingstock. Maybe you'd even lose your easy job, old one?"
The grandfathers and grandmother who sat nearby made tsking sounds and shook their heads at this insolent behavior, but they did nothing to stop him. The Reverend waited for them to at least reprimand the young hooligan who was disrespecting an elder, but they didn't open their mouths. Such were the appalling changes of these times.
The Reverend felt he had no choice but to pull his small knife from its elaborately carved sheath. "Leave him alone," he said, stepping forward and thrusting the dagger outward.
The young man looked at the Reverend's upraised hand and began to laugh. Then the others joined him, their lips pulled back from brown teeth as they bent over in mild hysterics.
"Where did you get that souvenir, Ghost Man?" one of the young thugs asked.
The Reverend looked at the knife in his hand.
"He doesn't even know it's a letter opener," one of the others said.
The proprietor chuckled and held out his hand. "May I?" he asked.
The Reverend had no choice but to give the man his only weapon.
The proprietor inspected the knife and said, "My father sold this same model. It's a letter opener, all right, but of decent quality."
The Reverend chuckled out of nervousness, too, but Ahcho wasn't smiling. The older man's eyes burned with rage. "Unhand me," he said.
The young thug who held his queue finally let go.
"I wonder," the Reverend tried, "could I trade you this fine letter opener for some beans, perhaps?"
The proprietor let out a disgusted snort, as if he had been waiting for this question all along. "You and every other person in the province would like to make a deal with me."
"Does that mean you have beans," the Reverend pressed, "but you won't trade them?"
The man crossed his arms again and looked around at his band of thuggish friends. "I have many mouths to feed."
"I see that," the Reverend said. "But I have a pregnant wife who is terribly ill. She may not make it unless I procure some sustenance for her. She has endured far too much already. Please, take pity on her and our unborn child."
The proprietor looked at Ahcho for a translation as the Reverend, in his distraught state, seemed to have lapsed into English.
Ahcho got to the point and said, "You know what he wants. Don't make him beg."
The proprietor shrugged and stepped back. His friends turned, too, and the Reverend heard the old people beginning to chatter again amongst themselves. His chance to save his family was slipping away.
The Reverend spoke again in a clear voice. "I wish to offer you something else. Something most precious."
The proprietor did not even bother to look his way. He simply waved his hand. "I don't need anything but rain. Can you give me that, Ghost Man? Somehow I don't think so."
"I can give you something better," the Reverend said as he pulled the enormous wolf hide off his back. "This is what caused the miracles. This!"
He held the sagging fur before him in his outstretched arms. The proprietor and his friends and family turned to look at it. The proprietor sauntered back to the Reverend and ran a hand over the thick fur.
"What do I want with this mangy thing?"
"It is what caused the miracles. You who are from here and already a prince in this land, when you wear it upon your back, it will bring you rain, if that is what you wish. Since I started wearing it, I have been invincible. All that I have wished for has come true. It will work for you, too."
"This old thing caused the miracle of the two bullets?" the proprietor asked.
"This is what saved me," the Reverend answered.
"And what about the elephant that flew?"
The Reverend placed the heavy fur in the other man's arms. "Yes, it made that magnificent creature fly. This, and nothing else but this."
"You say your wife is starving, Reverend?" the proprietor asked, his head cocked to one side. "And you need beans?"
The Reverend nodded eagerly.
"I have beans. I have a great deal