Outside Phoenix, in the Valley of the Sun, the patrons of the Raging Lion Men’s Club continued one of the most beloved traditions of the Southwest: hunting for treasure. They loved treasure, loved collecting it and owning it and hiding it away in their club. For the wealthy men of the Raging Lion, their treasure was beautiful young women with brown skin and black eyes, draped in the silver and turquoise jewelry of their Navajo fathers and brothers. 

Maria was loading the dessert cart with sour cream pie and brandied pears. Calvin looked out the kitchen door toward the stage. “Liliana is certainly enjoying herself tonight.” 

The girl was moving in slow motion in the spotlight, her long black hair sliding across one bare shoulder, gazing off into the distance like a Navajo Garbo. The men stared at her elegant throat, at the flat belly peeking out from the beaded buckskin miniskirt, and at her bare breasts, like little golden apples, draped with rough turquoise. She was trying to look noble and brave, spiritual, but Calvin knew Liliana. She was dreaming of shopping on Rodeo Drive, with a lunchtime visit to her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. 

** 

Maria had supper trays for the girls in the kitchen after the club closed. Calvin stopped in front of Liliana as she plowed through a bowl of steamed shrimp. “When’s Clayton getting home?” 

She shrugged. “Sometime this month, I think.” 

“You better find out, chick. Big bro’s gonna come in here, see you stripping off for the grandpas, he’s going postal, you know what I’m saying? They don’t make the Marines give back their guns when they come home.” 

“I’m not stripping off! It’s acting, Calvin.” Liliana narrowed her eyes. “Besides, I’m old enough. He can’t tell me…” 

Maria laughed out loud and handed her a glass of skim milk. “Oh, honey, don’t talk so silly.” Liliana drained her milk and stomped out of the kitchen. 

Calvin rubbed his chin. Clayton would take the Raging Lion Men’s Club apart with his bare hands. But first he would strangle his cousin Calvin, who had promised to look after Liliana while he was in Iraq. It would have been easier to baby-sit a tired, orphaned lion cub with a sore tooth. 

“What are you going to do?” Maria asked. 

“I ought to kidnap her,” he said. “Take her back to the Rez and give her to Grandma.” He stopped to chew on a shrimp. “I’m gonna call her. Grandma will know what to do.”  

A week later Liliana was on her knees in the spotlight, her breasts swaying gracefully as she pretended to grind corn between a pair of stones. It was Anasazi Appreciation Week at the Raging Lion. Calvin pushed the dessert cart to her tables and started passing out pieces of cherry cheesecake. He looked the men over as they stared at Liliana. They would not have seemed out of place standing next to Cortez, gloating over a chest of bloody, stolen gold. “Gentlemen,” he said. “Your pretty young girl has developed a portfolio of photographs.” He put a finger up to his lips. “You would like to see? Nobody else. Only you.” 

Liliana in white lace at her christening, nestled in her great-grandmother’s arms. Liliana, bubbles up to her chin in the kitchen sink, her mom holding a little pink washcloth over her chest. Riding on her father’s shoulders outside their hogan. Liliana sitting bareback on a paint pony, a Navajo boy holding the reins. The same young man, standing at attention in his Marine Dress Uniform, arm around his little sister. 

“The family is so proud of her. Her brother, Clayton? He’s been in Iraq, but his unit’s coming home. I heard something about a Silver Star.” 

The men looked at the little photographs. When the last one had finished studying the pictures, he passed them back to Calvin. The men didn’t look at each other, and they didn’t look at Calvin. Or Liliana.  

Liliana was so enraged she flung a beaded moccasin across the kitchen. “Fired! Me! Some bullshit about them being patriots at the Raging Lion and it’s a time of war and what does that have to do with me?” 

“You going home, chick?” Calvin asked.  

Liliana sighed. “I guess. Mom said she needed help getting ready for Clayton’s welcome home party. But I’m not staying. I need to get to L.A., or New York. Anywhere else. Arizona is so utterly provincial.”  

“I’ll give you a ride,” Calvin said. “Hey, you know Dine` College might start a theater program? Grandma told me about it. You could check it out while you’re at home.” 

Liliana perked up at that. “Really? Wow. They say live theater is dead, but I don’t believe it.” 

“Neither do I.”