by E B Corbin
“What kind of trouble?” Sam asked.
White Cloud shrugged. “Uncle did not know. Toby does not have many friends and those he has are unreliable.”
“Nina never mentioned her son or his problems to us.” Sam poked Henry in the shoulder. “Did you suspect anything?”
“No, but then I had the feeling she wasn’t being open with us.”
The taxi stopped at a red light. White Cloud swiveled his head to look at Sam. “She would not tell you. It is not the way of her people.”
“Will she open up to you?” Sam asked.
“Maybe. We shall see.” When the light turned green, a car behind them honked to let them know.
Sam threw a disgusted look out the back window and muttered, “Thanks a lot for that—as if we can’t see it’s green.”
“You need to learn how to remain calm,” White Cloud said as he pressed his foot on the accelerator. “You do not want to be impatient like that driver. It is not good for your spirit.”
Henry cleared his throat and spoke up before Sam could offer some smart remark. “Besides the trouble her son ran into, did you learn anything else?”
“Only that Nina is much respected at NAYA. When she first volunteered, over twenty years ago, her efforts led to the organization incorporating as a nonprofit. Some were not happy about it, but it has led to more stability in the community and has helped them receive many more grants—both public and private. Now most agree it has been a good thing.”
“Maybe it won’t be hard to convince her to accept the money. She can donate a portion to NAYA.” Sam gazed out the side window, ever mindful of the danger that could be lurking even on this beautiful morning as the sun shone brightly in an azure sky. There had not been too many days without rain since they’d arrived. Sam took it as a good omen, and her nerves settled the tiniest bit.
“It may be the best way to approach her,” White Cloud said, breaking into her thoughts. “You cannot let her think you are giving it to her out of pity, or some misplaced sense of justice. Our people know that justice means nothing when it comes to dealing with the white man, and pity is not appreciated.”
“I’m not returning the money out of pity,” Sam insisted. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“Not many people do the right thing,” White Cloud said.
Sam twisted her mouth and shrugged even though the taxi driver could not see her. “I do.”
When they stopped in front of Nina’s house, Henry opened the passenger door and paused with one foot on the cracked sidewalk. “I’ll see if Nina’s in.”
He scanned up and down the street but saw no evidence of trouble looming. He didn’t expect any since he heard not even the slightest buzz in his head. It was a welcome relief, but he needed to stay alert. He still didn’t count on his early-warning system to work one hundred percent of the time.
With the curtains drawn and no obvious movement inside, it was impossible to tell whether anyone was home. The jalopy which had been on the concrete pad yesterday, was gone, along with their bullet-ridden SUV. No one stood in the neighbors’ yards or sauntered down the block.
He walked to the door, making an effort to hide his slight limp. If Sam knew his ankle was giving him trouble, she would try to convince him to stay off his feet. He had no intention of showing any weakness to give her an excuse to go out on her own. She’d hired him as a bodyguard as well as an assistant, and he needed to do his job.
If his feelings toward Sam were becoming a little too personal, he’d never let her know. He would do what he had to do to keep her safe, and right now that meant clearing up any problems Nina had. He would keep his emotions under control and behave like a perfect gentleman.
His knock on the door went unanswered, so after a few moments he tried again. Still no answer. He went around to the side of the house to check the yard before giving up. It was empty, just a small dirt patch with weeds growing in clumps underneath a sad-looking Ponderosa pine. A rusted swing set missing the seats stood off to one side, suffering from disuse.
“Looks like no one’s there,” he said as he climbed into the front seat of the taxi.
“We will go to NAYA.” White Cloud started the engine. “She probably volunteers in the morning before she goes to work.”
Neither Sam nor Henry had any objections. In this case, they had to trust the Native American. This was his world, and they would acquiesce to his judgement.
✽ ✽ ✽
The drive to NAYA took about twenty minutes. The compound, located in the middle of what seemed like mostly an industrial area, surprised Sam. Several cars were parked diagonally in front of a one-story building with red brick along the bottom and a wall of windows facing the paved parking area. A breezeway connected the front building to a larger one off to the side. The grounds were simple. Well-kept grass studded with trees surrounded the buildings.
It reminded Sam of an elementary school built sometime in the late twentieth century. “This is not what I expected.”
“You were perhaps expecting wigwams and totem poles?” White Cloud said with a slight smile.
“No, no… I don’t know what I expected. I guess I didn’t think it would be in the middle of a business district.”
A rental place with tractor-cabs, semitrucks, cranes, and other heavy-duty construction equipment bordered one side of NAYA’s property, and a small house on the other side had been converted into some sort of an auto shop. Across the street, what looked like hundreds of trailers to be attached to the semi cabs were parked in rows—some rusted, some with names painted on the sides.
“It is built on land that was originally the village of Neerchokikoo, home to many from the Chinook tribe until they were almost wiped out by the white man’s diseases in the early 1830s. Also many of the inhabitants were subject to intentional removal during that period. Some tribal members continued to live along the slough and use the land for ceremonial purposes, much to the chagrin of the new arrivals to Portland. The last remaining elder of the Chinook tribe did not move out until 1906. He was known as Indian John. His picture is displayed at the center.”
“So this little plot of land is all that the Native Americans were able to keep in Portland.” Henry gestured toward both buildings.
White Cloud nodded.
“The Native Americans were treated horrendously,” Sam said.
“It does no good to dwell on it,” said White Cloud. “You cannot change the past—only the future. And that is what they are trying to accomplish here. That is why we must protect people like Nina if we are able.”
“You’re right.” Henry thought about how much he wanted to get out of Portland, but put it on the back-burner for now.
The taxi driver pointed to the rusty Datsun in the small parking area. “She’s here. I shall go in and find her.”
“We’ll come with you,” Sam said.
“It would be better if I went alone.” The Native American glanced back at Sam. “I will not cause her as much alarm.”
“I won’t do anything to draw attention to myself.”
“You will not fit in.” White Cloud glanced at her blond hair then shut the door and started up the steps to the entrance.
“Well, of all the—”
“He’s right,” Henry interrupted before she launched into a rant. “You’d better let him take the lead here.”
Sam huffed out a breath. “Fine. But what are we supposed to do? Sit here like two dolts?”
Henry smiled. “I don’t feel like a dolt. I’m fine with giving up control when it seems best.”
Sam crossed her arms. “So am I.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You really think so?”
“When have I ever…”
“Given up control willingly?” Henry pursed his lips. “How about never.”
Sam frowned. Was she a control freak? She never thought of herself that way, but perhaps Henry was right. In her efforts to be the boss, she might be a bit heavy-handed. She often ins
isted on doing something and acted without thinking it through. But she had no doubt this was the right thing to do.
If only she could somehow show Henry that she respected him and his opinions without giving up being the boss. She didn’t know how to do it. She wanted Henry to consider himself her intellectual equal, but trying to maintain the employer-employee relationship might be difficult under those circumstances.
“Oh, the hell with it.” She sat back and drummed her right fingertips against her left biceps.
The wait seemed interminable, but it was only about twenty minutes before White Cloud came out followed by an unhappy-looking Nina. He signaled for Sam and Henry to join them, and all four stood in the shade of the breezeway.
Nina wound her arms tightly across her chest. “There is nothing you can do for me. It would be best if you two just left me alone.”
“Nina, do you remember when you gave a good bit of money to a man named Barry Gentile?” Sam figured she might as well blurt it out.
Nina huffed. “That wretched man! He was a crook, but Ronnie trusted him to invest our money and I went along with my husband’s foolish wishes. Oh, I remember Barry Gentile, all right. A lousy cheat!”
“Yes, that’s him.” Sam took a deep breath. “Well, I’m his daughter.”
Nina took a step back. “Then we have nothing to discuss.”
As she turned to leave, Sam took her arm to stop her. “I want to return your money.”
The sound that came out of Nina’s throat was half scoff, half growl. “You expect me to believe that? What kind of fool do you think I am? I will not be tricked into believing that kind of nonsense.”
“It is the truth,” White Cloud told Nina.
Nina looked at the taxi driver in dismay. “You believe her? Then you are a fool.”
“Nina, please, listen to me. I used to be an FBI agent, and I helped put my father in jail. I also located his stash of stolen funds and moved it to a safe location. I plan to return every dime, along with interest, to those he swindled.”
Nina pursed her lips. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. No trick. It’s yours if you’ll accept it.”
White Cloud cleared his throat. “We would also like to help you with your troubles.”
“I don’t have any troubles. And the FBI is a joke. They have never done anything to help our people. I was doing fine on my own until you three came along.”
“Your son has troubles, and so do you by association.” White Cloud crossed his arms and blocked Nina’s path.
“You leave my son out of this! He has nothing to do with it.” Nina tried to shove him aside, but White Cloud stood firm.
“My spirit guide has led me to you. I will not be able to find peace unless I help.”
Nina stared at him with turmoil in her eyes. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
White Cloud nodded. “You can see there is no choice. Let these people help you.”
With the insight of one Native American to another, her resistance fell away. Her shoulders slumped, and she inhaled a shaky breath before she turned to Sam. “If I take the money, will you go away?”
“Not until we’re sure you’re safe.”
Nina scoffed. “I’m about as safe as I can be. I don’t need protection. People weren’t shooting at me until you came along.”
“And I’m sorry about that,” Henry said. “But those bullies needed to be taught a lesson.”
“I think that’s an impossible task. They get their kicks from tormenting others.”
“They must be stopped,” White Cloud said. “There is a way.”
Nina raised her eyebrows. “Oh, you think so? Well, if you can do it, go right ahead. I’m sick and tired of constantly looking over my shoulder.”
“You’ll have to tell us more.” Sam pointed to a picnic table and benches under a tree. “Can we sit over there and you can tell us about your son and why those skinheads are bothering you?”
Chapter Seven
Nina and White Cloud sat on one side with Sam and Henry facing them. White Cloud twisted on the bench so he could see Nina’s facial expressions while she talked. The Native American woman remained dispassionate and stony-eyed; her gaze leveled on the tabletop.
“It all began a few months ago. Toby—that is my son, by the way—overheard a conversation at the bar where he works. At first, he thought he got it wrong, but he tuned in as much as he could to the discussion and realized he did not misunderstand. He was right to be concerned. He came home that night jumpy as hell. When I asked him what was wrong, he would not tell me at first.”
“He was scared,” White Cloud said.
“Yes, well, he should have been. He saw two of those tattooed guys meeting with a well-dressed man in a suit. From what he heard, the man in the suit has some political position. And Toby heard him say they had Oregon covered and there were others in Washington State. They were almost ready. They want to turn the two states into a white nationalist territory and sess… see… something or other.”
“Secede?” Sam offered.
“Yes, that was it. Toby told me it meant they wanted to leave the United States and start their own country—only white men and their families allowed.”
“That has happened to our people many times before.” White Cloud’s remark could barely be heard.
“That would be pretty hard to do,” Sam said. “There are a lot of people living in the area who would not go along with the idea.”
“Yes, the man was aware of that, so he was enlisting the help of various groups to act as an army of sorts. They would eradicate any who opposed them.”
“They might end up fighting the US Armed Forces, and I doubt they could win.” Sam had serious doubts about this story.
“They had plans for that. They were stockpiling weapons at some location and were prepared to fight for their cause.”
“Where do they have these weapons?” Sam leaned forward her gaze riveted on Nina.
“I’m not sure. Toby didn’t hear everything they were saying. He thought it was some remote compound not far from Warm Springs and that they would start with those living on the reservation.”
“Uncle lives on that reservation,” White Cloud said.
Nina turned to him. “As do many of my friends. According to what Toby overheard, the reservation would be a piece of cake to take over. They would annihilate all the residents to make room for their headquarters.”
“The US government tried that before, when the white man first arrived in the area. They managed to eradicate a great many of our people and push the ones that were left to live in restricted areas, no longer allowed to roam free the way we had for thousands of years.” White Cloud shook his head and clenched his hands into fists. “It should not happen again.”
“It could, though,” Nina said. “I do not remember exactly what Toby told me about it. I do know that he said they were reaching out to other groups like themselves to relocate to this area. So far, they have over two thousand men, women and children from different groups scattered on farms and in compounds across the state.”
“Did Toby tell anyone besides you about this?” Henry found it hard to believe such a plot could exist in the United States of America, but in today’s political climate anything was possible.
“He tried. He went to the local police, but they told him it was out of their jurisdiction and to go to the FBI.” Nina threw a reserved look at Sam and kept her voice neutral. “You said you used to work for them. Well, I am sorry, but they were completely incompetent—less than useless. At first they did not believe Toby, either. He had no proof.”
“I’m sorry he had such a bad experience.” Sam didn’t feel comfortable offering Nina false hope.
“I told Toby to stay out of it,” Nina continued. “If worse came to worse, we could move to another state—maybe Arizona or Utah. I have done so before and told my son he could adapt. When I was a little girl, my family was relocated, as the government peo
ple put it. I had two older sisters who were sent away to foster families to have them better assimilate into the white man’s way of life. My parents took their two remaining children—me and my brother—and left everything in the middle of the night to find a place for us to stay together and keep our heritage.”
Her words caught Henry’s attention as he continually scanned the parking lot and surrounding area for any sign of unwanted visitors even though the buzzing in his head was negligible. “It was called the Indian Relocation Act of 1956. They closed a bunch of reservations and wanted the inhabitants to move to the cities.”
White Cloud palmed his forehead as he leaned an elbow on the table. “It happened to my family also. It is how I ended up a taxi driver instead of a medicine man.”
“It is how I never saw my two sisters again,” Nina said. “I don’t know what happened to them, but my parents never gave up searching for them. I do not want the same thing to happen to me and my son.”
“Moving away is an extreme measure,” White Cloud said. “We will try to help you and Toby.”
Sam straightened her shoulders. “Don’t do anything just yet. This whole scenario of leaving the United States is a huge undertaking and preposterous. I don’t think they could pull it off even if they tried. They’d definitely need more than two thousand people.”
“I thought so, too, at first, but Toby is convinced they can do it. He even purchased microphone and hid it in the booth where those people usually met. He captured enough of their plan to turn over to the FBI.”
Sam adjusted her position on the hard bench. “And they still didn’t do anything?”
“Oh, yes. They stormed into the bar where Toby worked and asked the patrons if they were aware of any terrorists meeting there. Of course, no one admitted a thing even though Toby knew at least three other guys overheard parts of the same conversations. When no one corroborated Toby’s story, they told Toby in front of everyone that they did not believe him.”