Heartbeat Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  “I wouldn’t mind half as much if it weren’t for you,” Henry said. “Would you ever want to live on the rez? I bet Uncle Arnie could get you a kick-ass job.”

  Rayanne sighed. He was warm and his chest firm. She liked the way they fit together. “I wouldn’t leave Grandpa. If I lived on a rez, I’d want to go home.”

  “I didn’t expect that you would, but I had to ask.” Henry smoothed her hair down her back.

  “Have you decided to do this?” They’d just gotten together. She didn’t want him to leave.

  “I think the word to use is resigned. I am resigned to this.”

  Rayanne sat up and cupped his jaw in her hand. She brushed a line of kisses up and down his neck. He made a cute grunt and put his hands on her hips, shifting her body so they lined up better. Everywhere they met, they fit together. His hands slid down to grab her bottom and pulled it tightly against him. His eyes were closed, his smile lazy. “On the bright side, I get to have one epic going-away party with special guests, the Beat Braves.”

  “I wish you could live here,” she said.

  “Me too,” Henry said. “But it’s too soon. It needs to be because we’re starting something together. Not because I’m a failure.”

  She pulled back and waited for him to open his eyes. “You’re not a failure,” she said. “The rez is, what, ninety miles? It’s not forever, right? We can keep it together long distance.”

  “That’s a great plan, what with our unreliable cars and upcoming winter weather.” He snaked his hands under her shirt and stroked the bare skin on her back. “Plus this sort of fun stuff is going to be tough to manage from my room at Uncle Mike’s house.”

  “You don’t want to try to continue?” She hadn’t even known she wanted a boyfriend, but now that he was here, she didn’t want anyone but Henry.

  “I want to try not to leave in the first place.” Henry unsnapped her bra and her breasts floated loose under her shirt. “But if I have to go, of course I want to try. And I will work as hard as I can to move back here so we can be together.”

  “I have a bunch of ideas—”

  Henry reached up and cupped a breast in each hand. His fingers circled around to squeeze the nipples, taking her breath away.

  “I got my own ideas, thank you,” he said. “Do you want go into the bedroom or should I do you right here?”

  “Bedroom,” she said. He took his time before removing his hands and helping her crawl off him. “Could I request a glow-in-the-dark condom?” she asked.

  “Sure. But I’m in charge of the rest.” His voice left no room for negotiation.

  42

  Rayanne couldn’t put it off any longer. They had to cancel the festival. There was no place to have it, and she couldn’t keep the participants hanging. And now, with Henry leaving, she had no heart left to try to save it.

  “I’m dreading this,” she told him. “An email blast strikes me as heartless.”

  “But easy,” Henry said. “Why not go for easy?”

  “Some of these people we had to sweet-talk into participating in the first place. They aren’t going to be happy.”

  “Not a lot of joy on this end either,” Henry said.

  Ester came into the room with her video camera.

  “I hear unhappy but I don’t see it,” she said. “Show me unhappy. Your motivation is disappointment. At this point in your life you have no incentive for hope because your dreams are crushed at every turn.”

  “What are you doing?” Rayanne asked.

  Ester zoomed in closer. “I’m making a documentary. Instead of a documentary about our victory over the forces that endeavor to hold us back, it’s a documentary about defeat. White man making promises and then taking them back.”

  “Who’s going to watch that film?” Henry said.

  Ester put the camera down. “People watch all kinds of depressing things. I think they like it. For the oppressed, it validates their hopelessness. For the oppressors, they can shift the blame rather than see how their own actions are part of the problem.”

  “Ester,” Henry said, his face serious, “I think you are too smart to be here.”

  Ester shrugged. “I read that somewhere. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Remember my true calling is healthcare-data-wonk. Linda has plans to pass me off to another tribal healthcare organization so I can make spreadsheets for them.”

  “Henry’s moving to the rez,” Rayanne said. The anger in her voice surprised her.

  “Uh oh,” Ester said. “What about your thing?” She flicked her gaze to Henry.

  “It’s going to turn into long-distance thing,” Henry said.

  “So you really like each other,” Ester said. “That sucks. Not that you like each other but that you found each other and now you face even more obstacles. Shall I make a film about you two? Indians ripped apart as part of a postcolonial plan. They want you to shack up with non-Indians, dilute the blood until we vanish into the melting pot.”

  “No.” Rayanne held up her hand to block the camera lens.

  Linda came into the room. “Ester, I think you missed your true calling. You need to do something that involves theatrical narration.”

  “I will spiff up my résumé and change my job-search plans,” Ester said. “Henry is moving.”

  “I heard. You’re lucky to have your family,” Linda said.

  “That’s funny. I don’t feel lucky,” Henry said.

  “Arnie is proud of what you’ve accomplished here.”

  “I wasn’t here long enough to accomplish anything.”

  Rayanne didn’t feel lucky either, but she understood what Linda meant. She tapped the binder on the desk. “We need to get on this. Do we want to divide it up? Everyone can make a few calls. We’re going to need to write some checks too.”

  Linda sighed. “It’s too bad after all this work you did, we have nothing to show for it. That’s what the board is beefing about. They wanted to see us do something besides respond somewhat effectively to a building flood. If we could pull off even a miniature festival, they could see the kind of thing we’re trying to build.”

  She looked around the room. “Where’s Tommy?”

  “Job interview,” Ester said. She shrugged at Linda. “It’s not a secret, is it? You told us we were at the end.”

  “Not officially. Yet. What are we going to do with that bus?” Linda said.

  “Load it up and drive off together into the sunset,” Ester said. “Maybe to Warm Springs. Uncle Arnie can get us all jobs. Isn’t there a good timber industry out there? I could learn about trees.”

  Henry pretended to laugh. “And we could all live in Uncle Mike’s spare room. Here’s a speck of good news: I’m having a blowout going-away party featuring the Beat Braves.”

  “Who are...?” Linda said.

  “My friends’ band. The one you didn’t want at the festival. Rock with hip-hop and native pride, all rolled into one loud package,” Henry said.

  “It’ll be fun,” Rayanne said, forcing cheerfulness into her voice. “There’s a place to sit outside, too, if the music and dancing get to be too much.”

  “Dancing?” Ester said. “I’m in. I’m a dancing machine.” She rolled her hips in time with her arms and then spun into a full turn.

  “You are full of surprises,” Rayanne said.

  “You have no idea,” Ester said with a wink.

  “And speaking of dancers... We have to call that youth group and let them know the event is off. They were so excited when we invited them to join the program.” Rayanne sighed. “Disappointing the young and old alike.”

  “Maybe we can get them out for something else,” Linda said. “Another school program or something.”

  “We thought it would be fun to see them perform with live music,” Henry said. “They used a recording for their demonstration at the school.”

  “Those kids find lots of places to perform without our help,” Rayanne said.

  “Wait a minute.” Henry sto
od up. He held up a finger like it was helping him think. “Live music. Dancing demonstration. A stage. A little courtyard outside.”

  He was giving her a knowing look but she had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Meteor Manor?” Henry said, nodding his head.

  “You want to do the arts festival at Meteor Manor?” Rayanne’s brain cranked around the idea.

  “You guys, you have to explain,” Linda said.

  “You just said even a small thing could work. We could do that. We already have a date. We could bring the kids out to dance with the Beat Braves.” Henry looked at Rayanne. “We could have the Beat Braves, right?”

  Rayanne was still trying to keep up with the idea.

  “We could have a few vendors in the courtyard. A food truck, if they’ll let us bring one in. It wouldn’t be a festival as much as an intertribal event. Arnie could haul the board out there, and they could see us bringing people together.”

  “Do you think the Beat Braves would go for it?” Rayanne asked.

  “Guys!”

  “Meteor Manor is a new concert venue where the band is scheduled to play,” Henry explained. “We could alter the show to include these other native performers. Beat Braves won’t care. A week ago they didn’t even have a gig.”

  “That area has a lot of nightlife too,” Rayanne said. “Maybe we could attract people who might not normally check out a cultural event.”

  “You guys think you can pull it off?” Linda said. “I’ll get Arnie to work on the board. Tommy can drive folks there.”

  “Social media, I’m on it,” Ester said, racing for her computer.

  “Wait, Ester! I need to talk to the band,” Henry said. “I need to talk to the venue. I’m not sure we’re even allowed to do all this.”

  Rayanne felt hopeful for the first time since they’d learned they’d lost the building. “Maybe we can get some city people to come too, and change their minds.”

  “Now you’re dreaming, missy,” Linda said. “But I will get on the phone and spread the word.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Rayanne said.

  “I can’t believe we didn’t come up with this sooner,” Henry said.

  “You thought of it soon enough. Let’s figure out what we need to do and get started.”

  43

  The next few days were a frenzy of email, phone calls, and errands. Everyone on the staff had his or her own assigned duties. Henry created a Rayanne-style checklist of his own and made several trips to Meteor Manor to work out the details with the staff and get the technical specs for the Beat Braves. Ester was in charge of anything relating to promotion. Tommy mapped out a transportation scheme to get everyone who needed a ride to the venue. Rayanne was in charge of the artists and food. Linda and Arnie were tasked with getting the board to come.

  His last few days at the center went by in a blur. The last nights with Rayanne didn’t last long enough. He couldn’t get enough of her. He tried not to think about the time when they would be apart.

  The night of the event, Rayanne changed her outfit three times, downgrading from sexy to interesting to something that verged on schoolmarm.

  “You should stick with the little blue dress that stops in the middle of your thighs.” Henry hugged her from behind, pulling her softness close. She wore a pleasantly dull dress, like she might wear to a wedding or graduation.

  “Don’t distract me,” she said, pushing his hands away. “I need to look professional.”

  “Professional compared to what?” He had his face buried in the crook of her neck. She twisted away from him.

  “According to the community we hope will attend our event. I think you should wear that white shirt. The one where you roll up the sleeves and show a little bit of skin at the base of your throat. It’s sexy.”

  “Much as I love to please you, woman, that shirt is dirty and balled up in some unknown location, seeing as how I’m living out of a duffel bag.”

  “That’s a shame. What do you have that is clean?”

  Henry backed away from her. “Really? We’re going to have a policy meeting about my shirt? What does the committee recommend?”

  “Forget it,” she said, dismissing him with a wave. “Wear what you want. If you don’t care, why should I?” She left the room.

  Henry followed her. “Please, I don’t want to fight with you tonight.”

  “We won’t. We can save it for tomorrow. I’m ready when you are. Find an ugly shirt and let’s go.”

  Henry brought out his duffel bag and dug through it, choosing and discarding several items. His ire grew, not only due to the dismal inadequacy of his wardrobe, but also with her, for putting the idea into his head that he needed to look decent for an event that had started out as nothing more than a concert with his friends’ band.

  “Rayanne,” he said, exaggerating a contrite tone, “can you help me find a shirt?”

  She glanced up from her phone, her eyebrows knitted together.

  “Please?”

  “You’re cute when you’re pitiful.” She picked up his bag and put it on the couch and tore through it until she found the white shirt. She shook it out and inspected it carefully before holding it up to him.

  “I’m going to iron this. The room isn’t well lit so you can get away with it.”

  Henry grabbed the shirt away from her. “I can iron my own shirt. You stand there and enjoy the view.”

  That earned a half-smile from her.

  By the time they got to the venue, Rayanne had relaxed a half-notch.

  “This place looks great,” she said. Strings of tiny white lights draped over the low branches of the trees in the courtyard. “Did you do this?”

  Henry made a small bow.

  Ester came out of the event space wearing a little black dress. She wore a messenger bag slung across her body.

  “She wore a short skirt,” Henry said.

  “She did,” Rayanne agreed, not hiding her surprise. “You look amazing. I didn’t think you were the little-dress type.”

  “I’m not. This is an experiment. I feel like a greyhound wearing a tube sock.” Ester patted the bag. “I’ve got the brochures and I made some fliers with a map that leads to our present location. You want to go walk the street with me?”

  “I’m game, what about you?” Rayanne said, looking at Henry.

  “I need to powwow with Jack and get those guys set up. I’ll meet you by the stage at show time.” Henry put his arm around Rayanne’s waist and gave her a long kiss.

  Ester made exaggerated motions of fanning her face. “Should I wait out front?”

  Henry let Rayanne go but she hung on to his hand.

  “Come on now,” Ester said. “You can do it. Let’s go.”

  A piece of his heart dropped as she disappeared through the gate. This separation was going to be hard to bear.

  Part of Ester’s experiment included modest heels and so far it wasn’t going well.

  “I should have given it more thought,” Ester said, a lopsided hitch to her gait.

  “You want to go back?” Rayanne asked.

  “No, I’m tough,” Ester said.

  They were having mixed results. Most of the bars were happy to take the information. The restaurants weren’t quite so accommodating. One person, she wasn’t sure if it was the hostess or the owner, shooed them out the door.

  “What was up with that lady?” Ester said. “It was like we killed her puppy, made it into a sandwich, and then made her watch us eat it.”

  “What is up with you Plains Indians and the jokes about eating puppies?”

  “I’m not a Plains Indian,” Ester said, pretending to be annoyed. “Let’s be honest. How many folks do we expect from this last-minute act of desperation?”

  “You make it sound so grim,” Rayanne said. “Let’s sit for a minute.” There was a bench outside one of the shops.

  “Don’t have to ask me twice,” Ester said, sinking into the seat with a groan.

 
; “Is Henry acting weird tonight?” Rayanne asked.

  “I don’t know him well enough to answer that question,” Ester said. “What do you mean weird?”

  “Like he was up to something.”

  “Maybe he’s going to ask you to marry him,” Ester said.

  “Don’t even joke about that. Even getting past the part where we barely know each other, he doesn’t have a job. I’m not shacking up with a guy with no job.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. That’s a good baseline standard.” Ester adjusted the bag so the strap went over the opposite shoulder. “Still, it seems like you two are doing pretty well at, you know, being a couple.”

  “Absolutely. Success at grinding crotches together is a surefire way to predict future long-term success.”

  “You make it sound so dreamy,” Ester said.

  “It is dreamy,” Rayanne said. “He’s great. And now he’s moving and everything is messed up.”

  “There are numerous layers of crap outcomes to the center’s demise,” Ester said. “At least we got this party. Maybe the board will see what we threw together and think, ‘Half-assed is better than no ass. Let’s give these kids another chance.’“

  Rayanne couldn’t help laughing. “Half-assed is better than no ass. Let’s put that on a T-shirt. I want to try to hit a couple more businesses before we give up and go back.”

  Henry worked on stage to help the guys arrange their gear. They needed to leave enough space for dancers to move around too. Cody and Sam went over the set list.

  Jack checked and rechecked the cables and connections until Henry stopped him. “Are you nervous?”

  Jack shrugged. “I didn’t expect so many people to be here.”

  “That’s what we wanted,” Henry reminded him. The room filled up. He recognized many of the faces, but there were strangers there too. Rayanne and Ester’s efforts were yielding results.

  Tommy came and found him. “The bus is here, boss. Now what?”

  “Can you bring it around the back? We can get them in through the load-in door. That way we can get them all seated now. It will be too confusing if we wait until the show starts.” He checked his phone. They were close to start time. Jack had brought a couple guys who had experience with lights and sound and they were doing last-minute tests.