And this one is borderline bizarre.
Brief backstory. Fort Pratt, Montana is a real place. A few years before the dawn of the 20th century, Ft. Pratt was home to the Fort Pratt Industrial Indian Boarding School. One of those horrific attempts at ‘squelching’ the Indian race by through a forced ‘education’ program. Kill the spirit, save the man. Fort Pratt is infamous amongst the Native populations. 1896. 31 boys were burned to death in a fire that consumed their dormitory.
Our story begins with Walt. Flat on his back in Fort Pratt, MT. His heavy sheepskin coat frozen to the blacktop. And he’s no idea where he is much less who he is. He has his sidearm, minus one bullet. Got his hat, too. And that’s important because it’s the only tangible clue to his identity. Inside the sweatband is written ‘Walt Longmire.’ It’s New Years Eve.
He wakes up at 8:17p. Pries himself off the street. Looks around. Snowing like hell. Nearby, a small cemetery is covered in snow. Beyond the cemetery is an arched gateway tell all who pass through that they are at the Fort Pratt Industrial Indian Boarding School, or what’s left of it.
None of that helps him figure out more about himself, where he is, why he is in Fort Pratt, and where’s home. A café down the road in town appears to be open so Walt ambles in. The waitress looks terribly familiar, but from where? Tries to get something to eat but the server seems to be talking in circles. But she did make a good burger.
Finishes eating. It’s 8:17p. And despite all evidence to the contrary, the snow is not getting any deeper. Asks this Martha where he might find a room. She points him to the hotel where a young man, also familiar, is doing some rehab work on the structure. Only one room is fit for a guest and Walt can have it. Room 31.
As Walt is trying to deduce what the hell is going on, his undersheriff, Victoria (Vic) Moretti and Henry Standing Bear have set out from Wyoming in search of Walt as he hasn’t checked in like he normally does. So we have Walk pushing from one direction and Vic/Henry pushing from the opposite direction.
Somehow, Walt has fallen into The Wandering Without, aka Éveohtsé -heómesé. A Stealer of Souls. A spirit that exists to gather souls who have passed on but have yet to pass through this prairie of nothingness that should be leading to the afterlife.
Each new encounter provides another clue to Walt’s predicament. And try and can, the only common thread between who he meets in and around Fort Pratt is himself. More specifically, these are all people whose cause of death was by Walt’s hand (or gun). Is Walt a ghost? If he is, he must be dead. The one thing he seems to be learning is that ‘all haunting is regret.’
Walt struggles. A lot. There are plenty of things that keep frustrating him. 8:17. 31. The school. While the book plays out over a single night, Walt is living in the Native American’s version of Groundhog Day (the Bill Murray flick). Relives things over and over and getting the same outcome.
Johnson has done the proverbial deep dive into this in-between land that is a part of the Native American culture. Easily 80-85% of the book is Walt trying to figure out what and where all this started and where it’s going. All the spiritualism, ghosts, people from past lives is more reminiscent of the late great Tony Hillerman whose stories were set amongst the Navajo Nation (Johnson’s books deal with the Cheyenne Nation).
Get this bizarre western (is there such a genre?). Spend some time floating through the Wandering Without’s world with Walt. Guaranteed to keep you puzzled right up to the end.
East Coast Don
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