Čhaŋté skúya is Lakota for sweetheart. It’s a literal translation of an Anglicism, a Wasi’chu idiom that snuck its way into Sioux. By themselves, the words don’t make much sense. Walter thinks of those little candies Ray likes around Valentine’s Day—though you’d be hard pressed to find a candy Ray doesn’t like, except for black licorice, which Ray regards the same way Jimmy does vegetables, like it’s clearly not food, and he’s insulted by the implication. Walter doesn’t find those candies particularly sweet; they’re more chalky, but Ray seems to like them, popping them like they’re, well, candy. Anyhow, there are a lot of things that don’t make sense, like the way love works, for instance, how two people find each other and spark a fire without even trying. On the whole, it’s too much to think about, and Walter doesn’t spend a lot of time trying to puzzle out the mysteries of the universe. All he knows is, Ray goes pink every time he calls him sweetheart in Lakota, so he’ll keep doing it.