“I expected this place to be cleared out by now,” Rayanne said.
The old brick building was streaked with moss. Two floors of dirty windows looked out over the parking lot. The plant beds were empty except for a couple of rhododendrons that needed pruning. They got out and headed inside. The double glass doors at the front entrance were locked. Inside, there was a deserted reception counter and no sign of anyone waiting for them.
“We’ll have to get everyone out here for a clean-up and power-wash day. We can plant a few flowers to make it look nice for the event.” Rayanne knocked on one of the doors but no one appeared. “Let me take you around back.”
In the rear of the building there was another set of double glass doors that opened to a concrete slab. Beyond that, there was a grassy area that needed mowing.
“You can see why it’s ideal for us,” Rayanne said. The sharp tone and hard edges had melted away, and her eyes were bright with enthusiasm. He warmed to her all over again.
“We have room for a playground and a place for stick game. We can put up a basketball hoop. For the festival I thought we could put the artist and food booths along here and then set up a stage over on that side. I have some folks that are going to loan us tables and chairs.”
“Do you think this is enough space?” Henry asked.
“Sure. There’s also an auditorium where we could do demonstration dancing. There’s a kitchen. We could prepare traditional foods.”
“Cooking sounds like a lot of extra work. I had a tough time at the retreat and that was only a handful of people. What about food vendors?”
A series of emotions registered on her face. Her enthusiasm dipped and faded from her eyes. Her shoulders slid up and down. “Right. This is your show.”
“We’re working together,” Henry said. “I can’t do this by myself.”
The dark frown returned to her face. The smile disappeared. Whatever window had opened was closed again.
“When I hear festival, I think bands,” Henry said.
“Of course you do,” Rayanne said. “If Linda approves, do what you want.”
12
Rayanne checked the time on her phone. There were cars in the parking lot so there had to be someone here. Why hadn’t anyone come out to meet them?
She searched the windows facing the back. Most of the rooms were dark. On the second floor someone sat at a computer, but he or she never took their eyes off their work.
Henry needed to knock off the desperate attempts to smooth things over. He was a bundle of earnest questions and forlorn glances. And yet, every time he stood close to her, the heat of him unbalanced her again.
He moved to stand next to her again and followed her gaze to the windows. “Did you talk to someone in the building?”
Rayanne took a deep breath. “I left a follow-up message last week, and another one this morning. Someone should be expecting us.”
Henry pulled up the binder and flipped back and forth through her notes. Her eyes traced the line from his shoulders to his forearms where his shirtsleeves were folded back. He described himself as a city boy but he had working hands. He found her diagram of the lot and tapped a finger on it.
“Did you have a question about that?”
He smiled. “I have so many questions, I’m not sure where to start. I’d like to get inside.”
“That would be nice.”
They approached the back doors and knocked on the glass. The hallway was dark, but light shone from more than one open doorway.
“Anyone in there?” Henry called.
“There’s a bigger sketch of the floor plan in there.” Rayanne nodded at the binder.
Henry shuffled through the pages until he found it.
Rayanne pointed to the drawing. “We could use some of these rooms to share information about what we do. Ester loves to make movies for us. We could do like a museum and have a couple of short films on a continuous loop. We could print out some fact sheets.”
As they talked, the hall lights flickered on. A man wearing a suit and tie came to the glass doors and crouched down to unlock them. He opened the door but didn’t invite them in. He had thinning hair and had to be close to retirement age.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“We’re doing a little recon for an arts festival,” Rayanne said. “I’ve been talking to a couple of people on the custodial staff about getting a tour today.”
The man did not let down his chilly bearing. “Who are you?”
Rayanne introduced herself and Henry. “We’re from the Crooked Rock Urban Indian Center. The center is in the process of purchasing the building. We’re planning an arts festival to celebrate the opening once the transfer takes place.”
The man shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything about that or any future events here.”
“Oh,” Rayanne said. “Is there someone else here who might know?”
The man offered a thin smile. There was no mistaking the tilt of the head and the patronizing tone. “I’ve been with the Office of Education for thirty-five years.”
“Then I’m surprised you’re not aware of what we’re doing.” Rayanne was accustomed to dealing with this type of administrator. “We’ve been working on this deal for over a year.”
“Any sort of transaction to turn over this facility to an outside organization would be put on hold right now. We’ve got economic considerations and an election coming up. Any sale that might have been in discussion certainly won’t be happening now, if at all.”
Rayanne swallowed a stunned expression. “There must be a mistake. Would you be involved in the selling process? Maybe this is taking place outside the work you do.”
“When were you expecting to have your event?”
“In a few weeks when we move in here. The deal is done. We’re waiting for the last details to get ironed out.” Rayanne could sense something was off. This wasn’t a person out of the loop. This was a person who wanted to ease them on their way without giving up any information.
The man pressed his lips together and looked upward, then shook his head. “If you’re making plans, you should make them for another location. This won’t be available.”
“Is the sale off? Have you been involved in the negotiations?” Rayanne asked.
The man held up his hands. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss it with you. I’m going to have to ask you to leave the grounds.”
Rayanne took a step forward. “You’re asking us to leave? We aren’t doing anything. Isn’t this a public building?”
The man tilted his head again. Did he think this made his delivery more bearable?
Henry put a hand on her arm but she shook it off.
“We’re allowed to be here,” she said. “If we weren’t Indian would you ask us to leave?”
“Let’s go,” Henry said, his voice calm and steady. “We have the information we need.”
Rayanne inhaled, her mind working through everything that had happened. They’d met with the city, hadn’t they? She’d sat in on one of the meetings. What was that woman’s name? Maybe the sale wasn’t final, but this man was making it sound like it didn’t exist.
Henry put his hand on her back. His nudge was insistent.
“I am going,” she said.
At this moment, Rayanne understood the expression blind rage. She needed to talk to Linda and get this addressed right away. Whatever was happening was unfair, and the sooner they talked to the right people, the better. Everything they’d been working for wasn’t going to go away on account of one cranky old guy who probably hadn’t laughed in—how long had he been in education—thirty years?
“I’m going to drive.” It wasn’t a request. She held out her hand until Henry gave her the keys. He might have said something but she didn’t hear it. She stomped all the way to the van, got in and drove away.
“Rayanne? Hey! Wait!”
Henry chased after the van, hollering and waving. He managed to bang his hand on the back wi
ndow a couple of times before it pulled out of reach. His van heaved out of the parking lot. The tires squeaked when they hit the street, and the vehicle sped out of sight. This was the second time since he met her that Rayanne exited the scene with her pedal to the metal.
He should have been surprised but instead, there was a sense of inevitability, as if from the moment they’d met they’d been on a course that ended with him standing alone in a parking lot while she zoomed off in his van, going to save the day without him.
He reached for his phone and checked all his pockets several times. He’d left his phone in the van. Figures. She wouldn’t have answered his call anyway. How many times had he dealt with a woman with that look on her face? She was on a mission and nothing was going to stop her.
He’d expected to spend the day reconvincing her that he was on her team. He would show her that he could solve problems too, and that he was part of the solution, not part of the problem. The suit in the building helped out by becoming the bad guy. But Henry had gone from a problem to forgotten. Maybe this development would work in his favor. He could go back and talk to the guy. Maybe he had more information. It’s not like it was private. There had to be a misunderstanding. That old guy couldn’t know everything.
The man had moved to the front doors and kept his eyes on Henry. He held a cellphone in his hands and made his meaning clear.
What a dick.
Fortunately, as a person with a long history of unreliable transportation, Henry knew his bus routes. He walked several blocks to a busier street. The closest stop was at least a half mile away. Rayanne had a pen in the binder, and he stopped to make a note to learn about creating or relocating bus stops. When they sorted out the problems and completed the building purchase, they would need a more convenient bus stop.
While he waited for the bus, he read through everything in the binder. There were no words to describe how comprehensive her planning notes were. There were lists of her lists and reminders printed on different-color paper. She had zippered plastic pockets to hold receipts and other scraps. The volume was overwhelming and reinforced every doubt he had about his ability to do this job.
By the time the bus came he was ready to quit again.
13
Rayanne took surface streets back to the center because the back way was faster. That man’s pissy who are you? looped through her head until she wanted to ram something.
She pulled into the parking lot and hopped out of the van. Someone had propped the door to the center open with a chair. More chairs and stacks of boxes lined the front walkway. Linda ran out the front door carrying a box. Were they moving without her?
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Flood,” Tommy said, hurrying out the door. He dragged a bag of basketballs to his car.
“What do you mean a flood?”
Tommy opened the trunk and hefted the bag in. He already had a box of books, a blanket, and what appeared to be a chainsaw in back. He had to shove it around to get the trunk closed again.
“Can you help over here?” Linda called as she went back into the building. Rayanne ran to catch up with her. Inside, she stepped into a puddle.
“It’s water, right?”
“I sure hope so,” Linda said.
The front room floor was shiny with wet spots. She expected to find water gushing from a pipe she’d never noticed but instead it was more like a creeping seep moving through the building. All the boxes they’d stacked against the walls for moving were being carried outside or stacked on tables and desks.
“Did anyone find the shut-off valve?” Rayanne asked, grabbing for one of the boxes behind her desk. She had many of Margie’s books and files stuffed in with her own. The box was heavy and an awkward shape. She struggled to get a good grip on it.
“I don’t know,” Linda said. “Do you know where it is?”
“No,” Rayanne said. “I heard it’s a thing to look for.” She staggered outside and put the box down in the parking lot.
“Are we cursed?” Linda’s face was shiny with sweat and she had a dusty smudge across her cheek. “Did we anger the gods or unknowingly do something to bring wrath upon ourselves? Maybe it’s the fate of our people. Maybe we’re not supposed to have a good life. It’s always got to be adversity. That’s how we know we’re alive.”
“I think it’s a tad dramatic to equate our tragic history with malfunctioning plumbing,” Rayanne said. They returned to the building and carried out another awkward box together.
“It is,” Linda agreed. “But this wears me out. Especially now, when we’re supposed to be demonstrating what a well-tuned machine we are. I would like to cry but I’m not sure if it fits into my calendar.”
Ester strutted out of the building with a smile on her face. She swung one hand over her head like she was preparing to rope a steer. “Water to the building is off!” She sang the last word with a high note, like a pop star.
“Bless you, dear woman,” Linda said, sagging with relief.
“Shut off the power too, for safety.”
“How did you know what to do?”
“While I’m tempted to keep it a secret, I will add ‘how to handle various building emergencies’ training to our never-ending to-do list. Right after ‘write grants we have no time to fulfill’ but before ‘find cute furnishings for office.’ We’re moving soon, aren’t we?”
Linda sighed. “That’s the plan.” She turned to Rayanne. “How are things going over there?”
Rayanne offered a noncommittal shrug. “Fine, I guess.”
“Did you talk to anyone? Are they all moved out?”
“It was quiet over there,” she said. It wasn’t a lie.
“Henry is cute,” Ester said. “I thought you two were hitting it off at the retreat.”
Rayanne shot her a look. Ester couldn’t resist the urge to be a loudmouth. Rayanne said, “Is there a plumber on the way? Shouldn’t you be checking the computers or something?”
Ester feigned innocence. “I said we’d meet him right here.”
“Where is Henry?” Linda asked. “Didn’t he come back with you?”
Rayanne spun around, as if he’d been there a second earlier and she was surprised he was missing. His van was parked in the parking lot and...
Uh oh.
She grabbed her phone and stared at it, realizing she didn’t even know how to call him.
“Do we have a file on him? Or a résumé or something?” Rayanne asked. “I need to find him.”
“We don’t,” Linda said. “Remember? We didn’t hire him. Arnie gave him to us. Did you lose him?”
“I guess I sorta left him at the Chief.”
“You drove off in his van and left him behind? What did he do?” Ester said. “I can’t wait to hear the rest of this story.”
Fortunately, Rayanne was saved by a gray truck with an anthropomorphic wrench painted on the side.
“Plumber is here. Let’s go.” Ester danced across the parking lot in long strides, her arms pumping the air as she went.
Linda smiled. “I want to be like her when I grow up. I give you points for trying to get rid of him, but the board gave him the job. Leaving him somewhere isn’t going to change that.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Rayanne said. She took the keys from her pocket and climbed inside the van. She let down the window and drooped in the seat, trying to hold back the crushing sense of futility. Her anger had vanished and in its place was an exhausted sadness. The van smelled like Henry, wood smoke and boy sweat with an added cherry tang of air freshener.
“Ma’am, you’re under arrest for grand theft auto.”
Henry stood at the driver’s window. He didn’t even have the decency to be pissed.
“Is that what a cop would say?” Rayanne asked. “Wouldn’t they yell, ‘Get out of the car! On the ground! Hands where I can see them’?”
“How would I know that?” Henry said, smiling. “Besides, you look like someone ate your puppy.”<
br />
“You Plains Indians and your puppy-eating jokes,” Rayanne said, shaking her head.
“Not Plains, Plateau. But I learned the joke from a Plains Indian.” Henry nodded his head back to the activity in front of the center. “What’s going on in there?”
“A pipe burst or something. Water everywhere. Stuff ruined. Business as usual.”
“Sheesh, what sort of end-of-days operation has my uncle gotten me involved in?”
“See?” Rayanne said. “You guys thought we were incompetent. It’s Coyote times eleven.”
“First of all, I never thought you were incompetent. Second, bad luck runs in streaks. It’ll turn around. Or that’s what I keep telling myself. You wanna give me my keys?” He reached through the window and leaned over her, the heat radiating off him. His arm brushed over her chest and she felt it in every part of her body. When he turned, his face was inches from hers. “Don’t expect me to give these to you again anytime soon.” He had a teasing smile on his face.
“I won’t,” Rayanne said. “I’ve got my own car.”
“Good. Let’s go mop.”
14
Henry grabbed a water scraper from the back closet, and scraped water out the front door.
“Where’d you get that, man?” Tommy asked. He was busy rearranging the boxes stacked on the tables and chairs to fit more in. It was too early to see how much damage had been done.
“There’s a closet in the corner of the meeting room.”
“The one with the locked metal doors?”
“Yeah. It’s not locked.”
“Good to know. Any other cool things in there?”
“I’m not sure what you consider cool. Something on a long handle like a trash picker.” Henry mimicked a crab claw with his hand.
Tommy’s face lit up. “That’s what I’m talking about. I’ll have to go check. Listen, how does your van run?”
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