Slowly, he approached the place where the sun never shined. At least, that's what all the memories he had of St. Joseph Indian School seemed to be. A bleak, cold place, where the sky was always overcast. He knew that there had to be sunny days there from time to time. They were in Michigan after all. One of the states that actually experienced all four of the seasons. The winters were cold and the summers were hot, but somehow here at this school, it still just felt gray.

Lewiston Lee rode up the dirt covered road on his black and white horse. He was a finely dressed man in black with trims of red throughout his outfit. Resting on top of his head was a tall top hat that leaned towards his right eye to add some flare. His cheekbones were sharp and his white skin had an element of tan that can only be explained by his mixed blood of white and American Indian. Dangling out of his jacket was a long silver chain. After a quick tug on the chain, he pulled out a pocket watch, which he flipped open. He glanced at the time. A quarter to noon. Fifteen minutes early. Before he put his watch away, he did what he always did. As his horse continued to ride straight, he looked on the inside lid of the watch. There he saw the smiley face had been drawn in it. A twinge of anger fell over him, but Lewiston chose to ignore it and put the watch away.

The gate to the school was closed. Just like he left it. All children go in, but no one comes out until they have a diploma or they're dead. As he hitched his horse outside, he did his best not to think about the only true friend he made here. The only one who knew the name his parents gave him and not the one he was forced to change it to. Anger began to sneak up on him again. "Push it down," he told himself. "We're not here for that. Leave it in the past."

However, the past had a way of showing itself again. As Lewiston closed the gate behind him. His eyes followed the wall that surrounded the whole school. The wall that was probably once gray stone, but through the years, they were now covered in dirt, making them look black. The ground was mainly dirt with patches of grass throughout the schoolyard and a sparse collection of sickly thin trees that was used to "decorate" the grounds. Along the walls, stood groups of kids, many of whom were confused about what was happening. There were always a few kids running around, trying to perform some semblance of play. Lewiston straightened his jacket as he finished up looking around. It seemed like this place hadn't changed at all.

In the middle of a school yard, one of the nuns was dragging a little boy behind her. He recognized that struggle. A boy who missed his family and just wanted to be home. Who decided to let everyone know by lashing out. But this nun had enough of his behavior and refused to see his point of view. After losing her patience, she threw him to the ground and pulled out the switch she had tucked in her belt. As quick as a flash she swung down and hit the boy across the back as the switch let out a loud crack! The boy cried out in pain and the tears he was already crying began to intensify. The once tears of sorrow were now replaced by tears of pain.

Before she could bring the switch down again, Lewiston caught her arm. Furious at this, she looked over at Lewiston who just looked at her with a smile and said to her, "Please. Let's not out savage the savages."

She glared at him, flabbergasted and enraged. Before she could react or say a word, a voice called out from the entrance of the building.

"Lewiston!" They both looked over to see the headmaster standing in the doorway of the catholic structure. It's dark stone that ran up the walls of what was supposed to be a holy building for learning. The headmaster continued, "That's enough! Now follow me."

With that, the headmaster walked inside. Lewiston couldn't help but to look at the nun and gave her a wink before he left. He knew she would be infuriated by that and he reveled in it as he entered the school.

He followed the Headmaster up the stairs and down the long wide halls. From one of the classrooms he heard children learning their ABC's for the first time. The start of a language that would replace the language they already knew.

They reached two big doors at the end of the hallway and the headmaster walked in and Lewiston followed. The headmaster marched across the room and said, "Close the door." Lewiston did as the thud of the solid doors echoed around the room. He looked around at the office that seemed like it never changed. A hollow room that besides a few bookshelves and some end tables, Lewiston would have sworn the room was empty. And of course in the corner of the office was a coat rack and sitting on top of the rack was a top hat. Not as tall as Lewiston's of course.

"Take a seat," the headmaster told Lewiston.

"No," Lewiston ignored, "I think the door is the last order I'm taking from you."

"Very well." The headmaster said as he sat down behind his desk. His desk was covered in papers with no sense of organization. In an attempt to seem busy, the headmaster quietly started to grab stacks of paper and shuffled them into one pile. After his stack was organized, he began flipping through it, one piece of paper at a time.

"Why did you call me here?" Lewiston asked before the silence became too much to bear.

"I need help with a court case," he answered, "and since you are a proud graduate of our illustrious school, I could think of no one better."

"I'm busy. Find someone else."

"We can pay you."

"I don't want your money."

"Lewiston," he said as he made eye contact with him. "Think of the children here. Many of them are from your own tribe. You'll be helping them out just as much, maybe even more so!"

After a long blank stare and pushing down the urge to cuss out the headmaster, Lewiston pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"I'll at least listen," he said, "I'll give you until the end of this cigarette."

After a deep, huffy, breath, the headmaster opened his drawer and pulled out a cup and a flask and poured himself a drink. He continued, "I received a letter from one of our former teachers.

Seems he's gotten himself into some hot water. He was arrested in Atwood and he asked for our help. That's when I thought of you."

"Former teacher? I thought I was helping the school."

"If he is found guilty," the Headmaster informed, "he will tarnish the image of this school, since he used to work here."

"What is this teacher's name?"

"Archibald Cummings."

There was no malice when the headmaster said his name. No knives, not even knowledge of what that name he said and what it meant to Lewiston. A name that struck Lewiston in his core. Whenever he thought of this man, nothing but anger would fill him. Hate. Just hearing his name said out loud for the first time in years immediately made the lawyer sick.

"You can tell that man he can go to hell and I hope he brings this whole school down with him," Lewiston bellowed.

The headmaster immediately stood up as he yelled, "Shut your mouth! What? Are you still sore from him punishing you? Do you harbor some kind of grudge? Grow up!"

"It's not my beatings I'm angry at."

"Oh yes. You're still hung up on that one. So what was she to you?" He asked as he sat back down, "Your first love or something contrite?"

"I'm leaving. Find a different lawyer."

With that, Lewiston turned around to leave. His plan was simple. Find the nearest bar and start working on a bottle of gin. Perhaps if he started immediately he could make it through three bottles by the end of the night. Anything to get this feeling out of the pit of his stomach. But when he reached for the door handle, the Headmaster said the one thing that could make him pause.

"I can give you what you want."

Lewiston stopped and looked at him. The moment the headmaster saw he had his attention, he continued, "I can give you your brother's file. You can finally see where we sent him"

Lewiston turned around and said, "You said that information was confidential."

"It is," he reconfirmed, "but if you take this case and get Archibald off the hook, the file is yours."

Lewiston slowly started walking towards the desk as the headmaster continued to talk.

"Don't you want to find where he's at? Whether he's dead or alive? This is your chance, your only chance to get the answers you have been searching for, for so long."

The headmaster watched as Lewiston leaned against the desk and stared him in the eyes. Suddenly, he snatched the headmaster up by the collar and jerked him up closer to his face.

"If you screw me on this,” Lewiston said, “I'll personally burn this place to the ground."

Surprised, but not scared, the headmaster got stone cold serious as he said, "I'm a man of my word. Surely even you can remember that."

"Alright. Fine."

Lewiston let the headmaster go who immediately fell back in his chair and straightened out his tie on what little neck he had. Lewiston took one last puff of his cigarette.

"I'll be back for my pay and that file."

Without saying another word, Lewiston tossed his cigarette into the headmaster's drink and walked out the door.