Three-River’s was feeling so very lucky that Jan and Eddie had so thoroughly seen to his secret education about the underlying realities of life on Sunset. They had done this easily enough simply by instructing him in the methods of The Sacred Discipline. Each of these men: the old Whiteman and young Burnt Man; had very different ideas of what life lessons should consist of. But they both educated themselves—and hence Three-Rivers—according to the very same austere principle, which Eddie called ‘sit-yo-ass-down-and-stop-aksin’-questions’.

This severe discipline was not one-dimensional. A medicine-man had great latitude in this form of self-education. Jan took his lessons sitting back cross-armed in his rolling chair. Eddie, on the other hand, sat up on the edge of his chair while eating popped maize kernels called corn here on Sunset.

Although the discipline and principal of the thing was severe—namely sitting still and remaining silent like a hunter—the pursuit itself was a happy thing. Because, movie-watching was like listening to a story one could see. Although both men claimed to study classics—which they both defined as ‘the best old stuff’—they had very different ideas as to what was classic. For Jan it was a movie called Stage Coach, about a big wheeled box stuffed with treasure and overdressed White People and dragged by horses. Eddie, being more sophisticated, favored Petey Wheat Straw: The Devil’s Son-in-Law, about the Grandfather of Burnt Men, a medicine-man who married The Ender’s daughter.

How auspicious that both of these ghost stories would prove prophetic at the very same time, on the very day when your medicine has returned!

Three-Rivers and Gerald Hicks were, at the very instant of this revelation, exploring the belly of the fat thunderbeast called conversion van, which could very likely be the grandson of a stage coach! And, among all of the wondrous treasures packed into this beast they found a magic stick called pimp-cane and a magic hat called cool.

“Gerald, is this the very same hat worn by the medicine-man Rudy Ray called Moore when he told the Petey Wheatstraw story? It is black and banded in red!”

“A course boy, I bet ole Rudy Ray were mackin’ hos in dis very van back in da day!”

“And the magic stick?”

“I don’ know if I recall da eezact diementions of da movie cane. But dat a genyouwine pimpcane sho’ ‘nough boy.”

“Thank you for your counsel Gerald. You are wise.”

“Yeah boy, but if you wanna be struttin’ wit dat fancy hat en cane you need threads ta match. Dat dirty tuxedo jus’ won’ do boy.”

“As I said Gerald, you are a wise squirrel, a wise squirrel indeed!”

“Yo Eddie, we got five big-ass water gourds full of change back here. I need to use dis loot to have a knew tuxedo tailored. Direct T.T. to the nearest coin-trader and then to a place to get me dressed yo?”

That was not fluent. You mixed English and rap. It must be all of the speaking Latin, Greek and Squirrel that is corrupting your rap.

Do not worry my son.

Father?

You are soon to return to Mother Earth. Rap will be of small use there. You must refresh your Longhouse and Tree-eater dialects and free them of these corrupting tongues. Begin singing your songs in our civilized languages while you are yet still living among the savages in this dug-up refuse heap of a world. The peoples of Mother Earth will need to be united by a fluent many-speaker.

Three-Rivers had been to other tuxedo-makers in the town near their base. Those tuxedo-maker’s lodges might have been grander than this lodge, but none would be as dear to his heart. He knew that every town had its masters of the various arts, and in the Town of Burnt Men the master of tuxedos was Medicine Vest, a small kindly bearded man who wore the cap of not-eating-filthy-animals, and was also known as Avi Goldstein. Medicine Vest’s lodge was a small place. But the man had a big spirit.

Observe the man’s art and take in his spirit.

There were other things to recommend Medicine Vest: for only double the normal fee he agreed to produce Three-Rivers’ black and red tuxedo immediately; also, he did not mind being addressed by Three-Rivers according to his sacred name; and, most importantly, for the cost of a normal tuxedo that one waits for, he produced a tuxedo for Gerald Hicks, and a hat as well; and for a mere three times the cost of a normal to-be-waited-for tuxedo, he made a tuxedo for Mister T.T. Redbone, largest of Sunset warriors. Why, an entire family of the fat starving Sunset People could have slept beneath the cloth used to make T. T.’s tuxedo!

This is a good thing, to be well-dressed on Sunset.

Hats for those larger than squirrels had to be sent out for by a servant, and then altered and banded in red silk. These were the gifts of Medicine Vest, who traded nothing for these, although Eddie did not trust him.

Eddie yet fears the medicine of White Men. He has not yet learned to tell the good ones from the bad.

Eddie was not happy with the bargaining skill and moral fortitude of Medicine Vest, complaining that ‘six grand’ was far too much to spend on tuxedos in a single afternoon. In the end Eddie saw the wisdom in Medicine Vest’s art of tuxedo trading and crafting. When T.T., Gerald and Three-Rivers stood together before the looking-at-one’s-self-glass called mirror; they were a handsome trio indeed! At this point Medicine Vest pointed to a sacred picture hanging on the wall of a quartet of Burnt Men singing in matching tuxedos. These men were apparently known as the Eating-plates, and it was obvious from Medicine Vest’s knowing nod of self-indication that he had crafted these tuxedos when a young man.

There are so very many ways of building medicine on Sunset. You cannot possibly master even a small part of these.

Eddie suddenly seemed to feel out of place among the bustling servants of Medicine Vest and his own tuxedoed companions. Why even Gerald Hicks was better dressed than he! Having woven his spell around the self-image of Eddie, Medicine Vest ‘closed the deal’ as they say on Sunset. “Young Mister Edison, it would take but an hour for me to altar you a pre-fitted tuxedo and overlay the collars, cuffs and lapels with red silk. The cost to you would be a mere six-hundred dollars. This would leave the four of you ready to take the stage immediately. Even today’s audiences will favor a smart-dressed band.”

Eddie was helpless under the spell of Medicine Vest, who did not collect his ‘six-and-a-half-grand’ until after the four of them had posed for a picture taken by Medicine Vest’s assistant, to be enshrined on his wall. The assistant then asked Eddie to sign a glass picture frame in which the picture taken by the highly specialized art cell known as a camera would be placed. After Eddie had made his sacred mark called signature in the living letters called cursive, the man gently inquired, “Mister Edison, what may I ask is the name of your group?”

“We The Devil’s Own Crew sir, The Devil’s Own Crew.”

Three-Rivers bowed to Medicine Vest. “May your Sunset be joyful Medicine Vest. Might you recommend a pack-trader’s lodge, so that we may acquire backpacks to match these fine tuxedos?”

“Yes of course young master, my brother operates…”

Eddie then pounced and dragged Three-Rivers after him as if Medicine Vest were The Ender himself!

Not wanting to be rude Three-Rivers called to Medicine Vest as he was being hauled away like a basket of maize, “Goodbye Mister Medicine Vest, I hope to meet your good brother some day.”