Heartbeat Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  “No. He came across as a guy with a healthy interest in passenger vans.” As Henry pulled out, he was suddenly self-conscious about his driving. He drove like he was taking a driver’s test. “To answer your original question, legally seats twelve. The most I’ve ever had is six. I keep the last seat out so we have room for equipment.”

  “Who are we and what sort of equipment?”

  “My friends have a band.”

  “Oh,” Rayanne said. He waited for her to ask about it but instead she said, “My car looks like it lost a fight with a dump truck. Inside and out.”

  “You a bad driver?” He meant to be funny but it didn’t come out that way.

  “Do you think anyone thinks they’re a bad driver? Like some people drive crazy-aggressive and they think they’re good drivers, but maybe they’re part of the problem. Then there are people who don’t mind holding up traffic to make an awkward left turn when they could go around the block. Do they think they’re bad drivers?”

  “No one thinks they’re a bad driver,” Henry said.

  “The car belonged to my cousin. He decided he was too good for it and left it at my aunt’s. He bought one of those small pickups from his friend. Of course it won’t start half the time, but that’s not my problem. I got his car. It’s not pretty and nothing works. If you crank up the heat, it’s like a puppy breathing on your ankle. If you need air, you roll down the window. The engine works. The thing runs.”

  “You don’t have to worry about it getting stolen,” Henry said.

  “Exactly.”

  When they’d set out, she twisted her long hair into a knot and stuck a beaded hair stick into it. As they rode, it unwound bit by bit, until most of it fell back to her shoulders. She pulled the hair stick out and twirled it between her fingers. He liked her smile better than the bitter expression she offered him now. “Do you even want to work at the center?”

  “I don’t know enough about it to be sure, but I’m guessing it’s not my thing.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “My mom hassled Arnie to find me a job. The nicest way to put it is that she thinks I’m a deadbeat.” It stung saying it out loud.

  “That’s the nicest way?”

  Henry shrugged. “Arnie thinks this would be good for me. He said it could be temporary.”

  “What do you normally do?”

  “This and that,” Henry said. “Sometimes I clean up at construction sites. Help people move. Power wash.”

  “You pay your bills, but you’re not on a career path. That’s her beef?”

  “I guess. Family history. We don’t have to get into all that right now.” His chances of winning this woman over were dwindling to none and into the negatives.

  “Why do you think your uncle thinks you’re good for the center?”

  “I went to college. I had a decent job for a while. I worked for a firm that distributes trucking parts. Got laid off. Not that trucking parts was a dream job or anything. But I can do a job.”

  “So you expect to come in, put in your time, and do a job.”

  “I’m only twenty-four. I’ve been out of college for two years. Should I apologize for not having it all figured out yet? When did you finish college?”

  “January. I did extra classes so I could get out early and work for Linda.”

  “January of the year we’re in now?” He had assumed she was older than him. She came across like a person who knew what she was doing.

  “Yeah, that January. I’ll be twenty-two in November. You don’t have to have it all figured out. What is your dream job?”

  “I have no idea. You?”

  “I thought I was doing it until Uncle Arnie came along.” She gave him a sour smile. “Listen, I wasn’t kidding. I don’t have a couple of hours to goof off. Can you get us there and back any quicker?”

  “Sure,” Henry said, pushing down the accelerator until the van coughed. “I’m not going to stick with the job, so you don’t have to worry.”

  “Uncle Arnie comes across as a man who is used to getting his way,” Rayanne said.

  “You got that right. Will you tell me about what you guys do? Are all the employees native?”

  “You don’t have to be but we only have four—now five—people, so yes. All of us do everything we can to keep the few services we manage to offer right now.”

  “I don’t understand why people can’t get these services on their home rez if they need them.”

  “Everyone doesn’t live on their home rez,” Rayanne said. “Some people can’t even get there. We want to have something for them here. If nothing else, it’s a place to hang out with other Indians. Some people miss that. Don’t you ever wish you could be home?”

  “I am home. I grew up here,” Henry said. “I love going out to the rez and seeing the family but I’ve always lived in the city. There’s nothing to miss.”

  “You’re lucky then,” Rayanne said. “We can develop more programs when we get into the bigger place. It’s kinda hard. You want more money and people so you can show that you can do the programs, but you need the people and programs to prove to the sources you can use the money.” Rayanne stopped talking long enough to notice they were getting off the freeway.

  “Where are we going, anyway?” she asked.

  “Milk Creek Farm,” Henry said.

  “Milk Creek? Are there cows?”

  “Maybe. A friend of a friend opened the business. According to the website they can host big outdoor events or smaller gatherings like family reunions. There’s a main building, trails, and a pond.”

  “A pond?”

  “Might be nice to swim on a hot day.”

  “No one is going to go swimming at the retreat,” Rayanne said.

  “They said they could accommodate us if we liked the space.”

  “You’ve been out here before?”

  “No. I’ve been wanting to.” Saying it out loud to Uncle Arnie had been cringe-inducing enough but how would it sound to Rayanne? “That band I mentioned? I’m interested in putting together a concert with them and some other bands.”

  “Is that a thing to make money?” There was hint of disdain in her voice.

  “Promoting concerts? Could be. Arnie and my mom share your enthusiasm.”

  “Won’t get any experience doing that with us.”

  “Wasn’t asking for it. None of this is my idea. I was minding my own business when my uncle threw this at me. He doesn’t have a lot of confidence in you guys.”

  “We need you to rescue us?”

  “You told me you needed a place for your retreat. I found a place to show you.”

  That finished the conversation. Henry couldn’t help checking her out as he drove. She couldn’t keep still, first fiddling with her hands in her lap, then adjusting the seatbelt.

  The farther they got from downtown, the more the landscape changed. At first there were housing developments broken up by the occasional farm. Then houses grew sparse and larger farms took over. Everything was green with stands of tall trees. Henry let his window down, anxious to get this over with. According to the directions from the owners, he would cross the creek, and it was the second driveway on the left. They told him there was a hand-painted sign marking the turn. They should be there, but they still hadn’t reached the creek.

  It was always like that driving to a new place. It was easy to think you’d overshot, but then you’d turn back too early and get mixed up. He kept his eye on the miles. They should have found it at least five miles ago. He couldn’t imagine the scorn Rayanne would dish out if he couldn’t find the farm.

  “It is pretty out here,” Rayanne said, “but how far out is it?”

  “Is there a limit on how far out the staff will go?”

  “We were going to go to Warm Springs. They won’t mind coming out here.”

  They approached a crossroads. Henry considered an experimental left turn. Wasn’t there some rule about going left if you were lost or uncertain? He turned
on his blinker, then turned it off again.

  Rayanne did a long slow exhale. “You don’t know where we’re going, do you?”

  “I know exactly where we’re going,” Henry said.

  “Rephrase: you don’t know where we are.”

  “I’m not going to lie.”

  “Why didn’t you put it in your phone?” Rayanne said, her voice rising in pitch.

  “Put it in your phone,” Henry repeated. “Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, I did. Except, Polly and Pepe said that GPS was messed up out here and it would be more confusing if we used it.”

  “Polly and Pepe? Did they work in a circus?”

  “Pepe is the college friend. They were nice enough to see us at the last minute, maybe you shouldn’t make fun of their names.”

  “No problem. Let’s go back to making fun of you,” Rayanne said. “Did you write anything down? Or what was your plan for finding it?”

  Henry nodded and tapped a finger against his temple. “Right here. It’s all right here. Road 16 until you cross the creek. There’s a sign at the turn.”

  “We passed the creek at least ten minutes ago,” Rayanne said.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I wasn’t in charge of finding it,” Rayanne said. “An Indian man with no sense of direction. I’ve heard about you but this is my first time meeting one.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Henry said.

  He turned the van around and found that he was speeding, as if that would make up for being lost.

  “You hear Milk Creek and you expect the water to be pale white,” Rayanne said. “I saw a regular muddy creek. Maybe bigger than a creek. More like a small river. How do they decide whether something is a river or a creek?”

  “Good question,” Henry said, pleased that they were no longer discussing his shortcomings. “What about a stream? Or a brook? A brook is something, isn’t it?”

  “A brook sounds like something you would find next to an English cottage,” Rayanne said. “There it is. Turn.”

  The hand-painted sign attached to the fence said ‘Mill Creek Farm’ in childish script.

  “You sure about this place?” Rayanne said. The way she said it made it clear she was not impressed.

  “We can’t judge by the sign,” Henry said. A gravel road ran along a grassy field and dipped down into a grove of trees. A woven wire fence surrounded the property. The road forked at an old wooden shed that was missing most of its roof.

  “Where should I go?” Henry said.

  “I thought you were in charge of this mission,” Rayanne said.

  “You took charge. I thought you knew what you were doing.” He smiled when he said it, and was pleased that she smiled back.

  “Go left,” she said. “Isn’t that the rule? If you don’t know, go left.”

  “That’s what I heard,” Henry said.

  She was right. The road ended at a small gravel parking lot with an old farmhouse. A young couple came out the door to greet them.

  5

  Rayanne followed Henry as they headed down the narrow trail toward the meeting lodge. Pepe and Polly led the way. She couldn’t help being annoyed by how nice Henry looked from behind. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, no butt. Big surprise.

  The sun was high in the sky, but the trail was shaded, and birds chirped in the trees. The pond was visible between the foliage, and a faint verdant scent floated off the water. She wished she could enjoy the peace and quiet. It was a lovely spot. But in the back of her mind all she could think of was a huge pile of work, the accumulating emails, and Linda checking her desk every fifteen minutes to see if she was back.

  She quickened her step to catch up.

  Polly and Pepe turned out to be a younger couple who burned out on their big city careers, and were giving country living a try. They brought them to a huge open meadow that sloped down toward the water. Picnic tables were grouped together under clusters of shade trees that ringed the meadow. The meeting space was in a rustic cabin at the top of the incline.

  “You’ve done concerts before?” Pepe asked Henry.

  “Why are you talking about concerts?” Rayanne asked.

  Henry held up a finger. “Not really.”

  “You got sponsors or another source of seed money?” Pepe asked.

  “What do you mean sponsors?” Henry asked.

  “It’s easy to think that you’re going to bring a few bands out and charge admission,” Pepe said. “A thousand people will show up and their admission will cover your costs. It doesn’t work like that. You need money before you start.”

  “But you’ve met Sam,” Henry said. “These are friends—”

  Rayanne shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to the office.”

  “We’re here for your retreat,” Henry said. “It doesn’t hurt if I ask other questions while I’m here.”

  “I need to look at the meeting space, and we need to go.”

  Polly caught that there was something going on. “I’ll take you up there.” As they walked up the hill, Polly leaned close to Rayanne. “Pepe’s not trying to be a jerk. We’ve had this before. Someone comes up with a great idea to get their friends to play. They’ll put it on social media and assume it will draw a big crowd. Everyone profits. They never get as many people as they expect. Meanwhile, we need to put up a stage, we need power, we need portable toilets, we need insurance, we need security. How many people are you expecting?”

  “Me?” Rayanne said. “His band is none of my concern. I need to put on a retreat for a non-profit.”

  “That’s easier,” Polly said. She had a sweet smile and down-to-earth manner. She unlocked the meeting lodge and it took no time before Rayanne knew it was perfect. There was a large open room with couches and comfy chairs. Huge glass doors faced the pond. Polly showed her how the doors slid open to allow fresh air in and access to the deck. There was a kitchen, two small bedrooms, and two bathrooms.

  “Used to be a two-bedroom home. We can reconfigure it in different ways. If there’s a wedding the bridal party can get ready here. If it’s a family reunion some folks can stay here. People can camp out and we have an outdoor restroom and shower. It’s not fancy but it works for the right kind of group.”

  By this time Henry and Pepe had arrived.

  “What do you think?” Henry asked.

  Rayanne ignored him. To Polly she said, “It’s perfect. If you can email me the agreement and electronic deposit information I can have it signed and reserved by the end of the day.”

  “Great,” Polly said. “You’ve done this before.”

  Rayanne gave Henry a pointed look. “I have.”

  Rayanne was giddy with relief. One giant problem solved. Linda would be thrilled. Too bad it was thanks to Henry.

  They hadn’t spoken since they got back in the van. Henry fiddled with the radio before giving up and turning it off.

  “No luck booking your band?” Rayanne said.

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” Henry said. “How do you do the meals for the retreat?”

  “I’ll make a menu. Easy meals like muffins and fruit when they arrive. Deli sandwiches at noon and then something hot for dinner. Linda and I can make a vat of spaghetti or something like that.”

  “Arnie can get us plenty of salmon,” Henry said.

  “That’s a nice idea but it’s got to be simple since we can’t cook and run a meeting at the same time.”

  “I can do the cooking,” Henry said. “I don’t need to listen to all the funding and planning, do I?”

  “You can do cooking?” Rayanne wondered what passed for cooking for Henry.

  “I can hear the doubt in your voice,” Henry said. “I learned not out of choice, but out of necessity.”

  “You were wandering lost in the woods and couldn’t find a hot dog stand?”

  “When I was in high school my mom broke her arm right before Thanksgiving. She was in charge of a big family dinner and s
he got all worked up. I suggested that we ask someone else to be in charge of dinner. Wrong response. She told me I had to get off my lazy ass and how important this was because I would be eating my entire life. I couldn’t always count on someone to make my food for me.”

  “I want to meet this woman,” Rayanne said. “I could learn something from her.”

  “You know how sometimes when people doubt you, it makes you more determined to show them what you can do?”

  “That’s the theme song of my entire life,” Rayanne said.

  “I told Mom I could do it all. I read a bunch of planning articles online. I watched cooking clips. I made menus, shopping lists, and timelines.”

  “What happened?”

  “She didn’t let me do it unsupervised. She bossed me around the entire time. But it was a good dinner. I used to never care about cooking. Only eating. Now I can cook. I’m not a great cook. I can’t make a lot of things. But I can cook traditional salmon.”

  “Really,” Rayanne said, realizing she was more impressed than she should be. “Okay. You can be in charge of the food.”

  “Wait a second,” Henry said.

  “No take-backs. You’ll do fine. I’m sure there are clips for that and you can bring your mom to boss you around. She boss Arnie around?”

  “Of course,” Henry said.

  “She’s invited. So what happened with your great concert event?”

  “Pepe knows more about promoting music shows than I do. He said an unknown band isn’t going to draw enough people to make us rich and famous, or even pay for us to use the spot. I guess I’m a moron. I did research but not enough research. My friends are going to be disappointed.”

  “What’s the goal?” Rayanne asked. “Play in front of an audience?”

  “Yeah, you know. Have people discover them. Develop a following. Tour the world.”

  “Could you plan something smaller? What if you could find a small venue with a stage? Do they have a mailing list? Do they know other bands? If you could get enough friends together to cover a smaller place, it would be fun and they could see what it was like.”