Shift Shapers of Gladstone

"Do you have a copy, Deputy Sheriff Jones?" asked the dispatcher.

A few seconds pass by and there is nothing but silence. He picks up the microphone and talks as he is driving down Highway 34. All he can see is headlights shinning on the highway before him.

"Yes, I do! says Jones, "I am on Highway 34 heading west towards Gladstone."

He adds, "I am going to Gladstone to talk to a medicine man from the reservation that is just down the road. He is at this honkey- tonk named the Night Wind. He says he has an important lead to all the killings that have occurred here in Oquawka county."

A few seconds pass by, and he hears dead air on the radio. "Did you copy that, sweet cheeks?" In his mind he sees her as she really is fat, gray haired, and wears thick black glasses with freckles all over her face.

"I copy that," "she says. " You be careful, now you hear. You know think medicine men are crazy," she adds, "A good Christian person don’t believe in such non sense, or hang out in bars like that one."

"Sweetheart, you know I got to follow this lead," replies Jones, "I have no other leads to the gruesome murders. The only thing I got is that who ever did these killings must be like an animal, you know like a wolf."

"I know you got to check out the lead, but for god sake, you be careful," pleaded the dispatcher.

"I will, sweet cheeks," says Jones.

He pulls into the parking lot of the Night Wind. He lets the car run for a few seconds before he turns the engine off. The parking lot is full.

He gets out of the car and walks towards the bar. The night air is crisp and cool for late September. He notices that there is a full moon. He thinks to himself as he opens the door, Man, that is an unusually bright moon.

Once inside the bar, he looks around the smoke filled room. The smoke hovers over the bar like the fog over San Francisco Bay, and you can smell the stale odor of alcohol.

There are a few people dancing on the floor. A song by Conway Twitty is playing on the jukebox. It is the usual crowd for a busy Friday night.

The bouncer gets up off of his chair and greets the deputy.

"Is there a problem, Deputy Jones?" asks the bouncer.

"I just came in to talk to Tall Feathers," says Jones, "Do you know where he is at?"

" Yeh, he’s here. He’s sitting over there in the back."

Jones walks towards the table in the back. He sees a man with long gray hair sitting at a table by himself. His face is worn and wrinkled.

"Hi, my name is Deputy Sheriff Jones of Oquawka County, and you must be Tall Feathers?"

The Indian looks at Jones for a few seconds and he says, "I know who you are, and why you came. Sit down; I have plenty to tell you."

Jones sits down across from the Indian. He takes his hat off, and he ruffles his short blond hair back into place.

"Well, what do you got for me chief?" says Jones.

A bar maid came up to them and asks, "Would you like a drink?"

"No thanks! I’m here to talk to the chief, not to socialize." The barmaid looks at Jones as being rude. She walks away.