“That sounds super boring.”
“That’s not the way to look at it. What you’re doing is writing a report to persuade someone to give you some money so you can accomplish something. If you decide to stick around here for the long term, we’ll get you into a class. Linda and I both want to hire someone full time but, as it turns out, you need money to hire someone to go out and get you money.”
“That’s a job? Full time grant-writing?” Henry couldn’t imagine the kind of person who would do something like that.
“Indeed, that person could coordinate with all of us for what we’re planning. Like Tommy developing youth resources and Ester’s health stuff. A full-time person can research different kinds of opportunities. Also help with reporting because that’s a big piece. Very few organizations will hand you money and tell you to do whatever you want with it.”
Linda rushed out of her office and threw her purse over her shoulder. “Margie called. There’s a bird in her house. She said it wasn’t bothering her but I’m afraid she might change her mind and then trip over herself trying to get it out. I don’t think I have it in me to deal with Margie hurt again.”
“I can help Margie,” Henry said.
Linda didn’t hide her surprise.
“He doesn’t want to learn how to write grants,” Rayanne explained.
Linda laughed. “You think you don’t, but you do. That is a terrific skill to have and would be a great addition to your résumé. But since it would help me out, I’m going to take you up on it. You’re going to have to make a stop. She said she needs some light bulbs changed.”
“Sure,” Henry said. “Which kind?”
Linda shrugged. “Get whatever the most common kinds are.”
Henry was tempted to tell her that wasn’t much to go on but if she didn’t know, she didn’t know. He could stock up on a variety. “Remind me again her address.”
Linda gave him the information and then directions with an alternate route if he wanted to avoid the busy intersection at Branson and 45th.
“So, it’s not just my mom. Every Ind’n woman wants to tell me exactly how I should be doing things,” he said. “I think I can find it.”
“Good, I’ll let her know to expect you.”
He stopped at the hardware store and then headed over to Margie’s.
While she was holding the door open for him, the bird chirped three times and flew out. It was only a sparrow but the flapping wings made him flinch as it went by.
“That was easy,” Margie said.
“Glad I could help. Sparrow is my spirit animal.”
“You look more like a buck to me,” Margie said. “It was a little thing but Linda likes to fuss. Come on in. I got other things for you to do.”
Henry held up the light bulbs. “So I was warned.”
“Yes, light bulbs. But I got this chair I want moved.” She worked her way down the hallway, steadying herself on one piece of furniture before launching herself to the next. “I got my kids coming over when they can, but all three of them live out of town and they got their own things to do. That one there.” Margie pointed to an overstuffed chair that didn’t look like something anyone would actually sit on.
“Where did you want it?”
Margie waved until he picked it up and then shuffled back out of the room. “My oldest daughter wants me to sell this place and move in with her. That’s sweet but I don’t know anyone in her town except her family.” She used her cane to indicate a steep downward stairway. “Down there.”
Henry fumbled for a better grip on the chair and sidestepped down to the basement. The basement had finished walls and carpeting. There was a main room and a smaller room and a tiny bathroom.
Margie tossed her cane down the stairs. She grabbed the arm rails on either side of the staircase and set out down the stairs, one unsteady step at a time.
“Wait,” Henry said. “I have an obligation to your children and Linda to insist that you don’t need to come down here. I am acquainted with several of the most stubborn Ind’n women on the planet so I realize that you will pay me no heed.”
By this time Margie had made it to the bottom of the stairs. She made her way as far as the chair and sat down with some force. “I could tell you were a smart one.” She took her cane when he handed it her.
She sighed and glanced around the room. There was a pile of rolled-up rugs and a lamp without a shade. There were a couple of fussy tables with scuffed surfaces.
“This was the kids’ place when they were here,” she told him. “They watched TV and played games. When they got bigger, my oldest had that room. Can you take that lamp and those tables to Goodwill?”
Henry flipped one over for a closer look. The tables had fancy curved legs but were solid. “I know some poor Indians who could use these.”
“Even better,” Margie said.
She waited downstairs while he carried them up and loaded them into the van. He went back down and helped her to her feet. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to make sure you get back upstairs in one piece. Linda will kill me if you get hurt on my account.”
Margie waved him off. “Pfft. She doesn’t know what I’m up to. You should see the wobbly stool I use to get things off the high shelves in the kitchen.” Off Henry’s stricken look she added, “It’s a joke.”
Back upstairs she insisted on giving Henry a jar of canned salmon. As they stood at the door, Margie said, “No pity for me. I’m doing fine.”
31
Arnie ran from the attorney’s office to his rig. He threw the paperwork on the seat beside him and plugged in his phone so he could go hands-free. He dialed the center.
“Rayanne? I need to talk to Linda.”
“Did everything go okay?”
“I successfully picked up a pile of paper from the attorneys, if that’s what you mean. I would advise against celebrating until the papers are signed. I’m on my way. Does Linda need a ride?”
“But there weren’t any problems. The attorneys didn’t mention anything that might go wrong?”
“I answered your question. Can I talk to Linda?”
“Hang on.”
Rayanne said something he couldn’t make out followed by a series of muffled crunches and then more indistinct voices.
“Put Linda on the phone,” he muttered.
“Arnie? Still there? She wants to talk to you.”
“I want to talk to her, too,” Arnie said.
“Hey,” Linda said when she got on the line.
“You sound like you ran a road race.”
“No. I was on the phone trying to schedule a moving company. No luck yet, but no new catastrophes at this time. Everyone is staring at me expectantly. How did it go?”
“We went over everything. We’re good to go.”
“Can you pick me up?”
“I should be there in fifteen.”
“Fifteen? Eek. That’s cutting it close.”
“I guess it’s time to press this little red button on the dashboard that says, ‘Super Sonic Speed’ and see what happens.”
Linda laughed. “If that’s what it takes.”
“They aren’t going to stop the sale because we’re a few minutes late,” Arnie said.
“I know. But we’ve worked for this for so long. I want the meeting to be perfect.”
“I’ll see you in twelve minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting out front.”
Arnie disconnected the call. He wished he hadn’t had that last cup of coffee. His hands were jittery on the wheel. He alternated, wiping first one hand and then the other on his slacks. He had no problem navigating in city traffic but now he felt tense and uncertain with the time frame and Linda counting on him. When he’d volunteered to join the center, he’d doubted their chances of success. Now he found himself surprised that everything had come together. He and Linda worked well together. He couldn’t wait to see what they could accomplish going into the future.
As promised, Linda
waited out front. She had on the same yellow dress and long beaded earrings that she’d worn for the retreat. The same dress that had gone translucent when she’d been caught in the sprinklers. The woman he’d always thought of as bookish had some intriguing curves.
But I’m not supposed to think of her like that.
The strain of the past couple weeks showed in her face. Once they signed the papers, there would be another wave of intense work to do, but maybe the weight of this unsolved problem hanging over her would be a relief.
He pulled into the parking lot and waited for her to get in. As soon as she was strapped in, she pulled the documents on her lap and paged through them.
“Attorneys are notoriously detail-oriented about that kind of stuff.”
“I believe you,” she said, her eyes never leaving the documents. “It relaxes me to go over completed paperwork.”
Arnie laughed. “And people say that I have a pitiful life.”
“You know what I mean. I can’t decide what I want to do first when the papers are signed.”
“Celebratory dinner?” he asked.
“You and me?” Something in the air between them stretched tight. The suggestion took on additional meaning. Now that the invitation was out, Arnie realized he would be disappointed if she said no.
She stopped shuffling through the documents and stared straight ahead. “I had planned to go home, put on sweatpants, and pour a glass of wine to go with my bowl of cookie dough.”
“I’d hate to spoil that,” Arnie said, feigning indifference to diffuse the situation. The last thing they needed was to be weird during their meeting with the city.
“Those weren’t firm plans. I could rearrange for a celebratory dinner.”
“Great,” Arnie said, his voice a little too loud. “I know this place that has great burgers. All the cool kids go there.”
“How did you find out about it?”
Arnie smiled. “To be honest, Henry took me there.”
“Ah, Henry. Surprising us at every turn.”
“Is he surprising you?”
“So far he’s doing great,” Linda said.
“Whew. I thought he was capable but I believe you’d tell me if he was a blithering idiot.”
“He’s not even close to an idiot.”
“Good.” Arnie pulled into the parking garage at City Hall. “Let’s go buy a building.”
Linda’s heart pounded as they moved through the wide hallways of the city building. The floors reminded her of her elementary school, polished to a shine. Their steps echoed in the quiet space.
“This would be like working in a morgue,” she whispered to Arnie.
“Why are you whispering?” Arnie whispered back.
They both laughed. “What was the contact name in the email?” Linda asked.
“I don’t know. I thought you were getting the email.”
A chill went up her spine as if they were on a high wire and the net had just fallen away. “They didn’t send an email. They don’t even know we’re coming.”
“Nonsense,” Arnie said.
The security gate was open but there was no officer in sight. Linda expected they would wait, but instead, Arnie put his hand on the small of her back and guided her through.
“Should we be doing this?” she asked.
“Shhh. Kayla told us to be here. They’re expecting us.” He pointed to the stairs.
On the second floor, they searched for the room. No one stopped them or even acknowledged they were there.
“There it is,” she said. A rectangular sign said 2112 in white letters. There were Braille letters below and she ran her fingers over them and imagined she could make sense of the bumps.
“No one is here,” she said.
“Maybe not here,” Arnie said. He glanced up and down the hallway. It was close to the end of the day on a Friday so there weren’t many people around.
“Maybe she wrote down the wrong room,” Linda said.
“We can hope,” Arnie muttered. “Do you want to wait here?”
“We’re about ten minutes late. Maybe we should find someone to help us.”
It took them several tries and they had to go up another flight of stairs before they found an office with an open door and a person inside. The same young woman who had helped them on their previous visit sat at a computer screen with headphones on.
“Is she the only person who works here?” Linda whispered.
“That’s what I was wondering,” Arnie whispered back, close enough that she could feel his breath on her ear.
Kayla glanced up and saw them, but it took her a minute to finish whatever she was working on. She lifted off one ear pad.
“Can I help you?”
Linda couldn’t believe the blank stare. The woman had to recognize them. She wasn’t sure what to say.
“Kayla? Hi. Remember me? I’m Arnie Jackson. This is Linda Bird. We’re from the Crooked Rock Urban Indian Center. We talked to you last week about a meeting today? We’re here to finalize purchase of the Chief building.”
Kayla hesitated, then removed the headphones and got up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
She walked back to an office they couldn’t see. There was a hushed conversation and then the thump of a closing door.
When she returned, she looked like a person put in charge of something she considered above her pay grade.
“Sorry no one informed you. The meeting was canceled.”
“Canceled?” Arnie said. “How come?”
She took a deep breath. “I was told the City Commissioners voted to terminate the agreement.”
“That can’t possibly be correct.” Linda heard herself say it calmly but blood rushed in her ears.
The young woman shrugged. “That’s what I was told.”
“But the deal is complete. That’s why we’re here. We’re signing off.” She held up the documents from the attorneys to illustrate how serious she was.
“I guess there was a misunderstanding.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Arnie said, his voice rising. “This is supposed to be a done deal. Who voted to terminate the agreement? None of those people have the balls to come here and tell us themselves?”
Kayla swallowed and she took a few steps back. “I’m just saying what I was told.”
“Could we please set up another meeting?” Linda said. “They owe us that. They offered to sell us a building. They strung us along while we did everything they asked, some of it at a financial cost to our organization.”
“I’ll ask,” she said.
Arnie wasn’t having any of it. He didn’t know how intimidating he could be when he was angry. “None of those cowards will talk to us? Are they hiding back there? What if we went back there?”
Linda reached for his hand. “Don’t,” she said quietly. To Kayla she said, “Tell them we asked for an explanation in writing. That’s the least they can do for us.”
“I know,” Kayla said. Her distress appeared genuine.
Linda pulled Arnie toward the door. His hand trembled in hers and she shared his simmering rage. She’d seen him like this one other time. In college, at a Native Students Association meeting. She and Arnie referred to the students who identified as tribal descendants but had no connection with their native communities as box-checkers. The topic of the meeting had been something divisive. A cowboys-and-Indians-themed dorm party or something like that. One of the box-checkers told Arnie he was too serious and to let someone else have a chance to speak. Arnie had lost it, screaming and insulting the guy.
City Hall was not the time for screaming or insults, especially at some poor woman given the task of delivering an undesirable message.
“We’re not going to fix it today,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Arnie took a deep breath. She changed the grip so her fingers were interlaced with his and squeezed his hand. At last the fight went out of him and he let her lead him out.
32
&nbs
p; Rayanne waited while Henry passed a menu to Ester. “It’s all miniature foods,” he said.
Tommy had already grabbed one from the center of the table. Henry inched his chair closer to Rayanne so they could share. Having him next to her was soothing after a long week of work setbacks and family drama.
“They’d have to with tables this small.” Ester exaggerated the motion of her elbows sliding off the edge.
The bar was in the rundown part of town in a narrow room with a high ceiling and dim lights. The four of them were crammed together at a table better suited for two. Henry’s thigh pressed against hers. He dropped his hand to her leg and rested it there, the weight of it a promise for later.
Tommy kept flipping the menu over, as if the real food options might be on the other side. “Miniature hamburgers? How do you even find out about these places?”
“I like different things,” Henry said, “and I’m always broke so I do a lot of research. Everything is good here.”
“He’s right about the prices,” Ester said.
Rayanne scanned the choices. “What’s the miniature pizza like?”
Henry moved his hand from her leg and drew a circle on his other palm with his first finger. She was the one who insisted they keep it cool in front of their colleagues and here she was with the starry-eyed gaze. He’d better be coming home with her.
“Does it have tiny pepperoni?” Ester said. “I want tiny pepperoni.”
“I think it’s ground-up meat for the topping,” Henry said.
“Phoo,” Ester said. “I want to try a bunch of things.”
“Each plate comes with four. We can pass it around.”
Rayanne folded her hands in front of her. “I can’t decide. You pick. I trust you.”
Ester handed back her menu. “I want to try different things as long as one of them is pizza.”
Tommy shook his head. “I wish I could watch this cook making a tiny burger. Do they use scissors to cut the bacon?”
Heartbeat Braves Page 18