Sweetheart Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  He nodded. "Everything is going according to plan. Maybe."

  Granny explained the role of the items in the display. "The duty is to care for the ceremonial things and bring them out for everyone. They have a purpose to the People. Here in a museum they're just stuck in the drawer."

  One of the men pointed to the display dress. "And that's the same outfit like this one in the picture?"

  "Different dress. Same person. That's me in the picture," Granny said.

  There was a general murmuring and rattling of paper as everyone checked the photo more closely.

  "Do you still have this dance regalia in your family?" a lady with red-framed glasses asked.

  "No," Granny said. "It's locked up in a box somewhere in the back of this place."

  "She's going to get these seniors all worked up," Elizabeth said.

  Tommy made a quiet whistling sound between his teeth. "That's the idea."

  "If the things belonged to you, how did they end up in the museum?" Glasses lady asked.

  "When the times change, we had to get money somehow. Families sold their ceremonial things. Not always with permission. Now they keep them here, so you can look at them."

  "Is there a way we can see it?" someone called.

  "That's what I want to know," Granny said.

  There was more rumbling among the group. Elizabeth didn't hear what Granny said next. The security lady waved an arm toward the barrier of the display until the security man moved toward it.

  "They're coming to kick us out," she whispered to Tommy. Her heart thumped harder in her chest.

  She dragged Tommy to meet him before he interrupted the talk. The man's name tag said Joseph.

  "Problem?" Tommy asked.

  Joseph shook his head. "Sorry, I've been asked to keep an eye out."

  "You mean this dangerous elder?"

  He shrugged.

  "Who's keeping an eye on you?" Elizabeth asked.

  He smiled. "You never know."

  Tommy said, "We don't mind taking this up a notch. Is Dr. Murray in the building?"

  "I'll call for her," Joseph said.

  Elizabeth lost track of what Granny was saying, but the seniors had pulled in closer. The lady with the red eyeglasses turned around and waved at Joseph. "Is it true you won't let her see her family's ceremony outfits?"

  "I don't let people see things," Joseph said, holding his hands up in protest. He laughed and said, "I keep people from getting out of line." To Elizabeth, he said, "Your Grandma is getting them worked up. We're on the verge of our first senior riot."

  "She's done it before," Elizabeth said.

  "You come up here," Granny called. She beckoned with one hand until Elizabeth joined her. "This is my great-granddaughter. She finished college and now she's the new generation advocating for our people."

  The words shot straight to her heart. She always thought of herself as the person caring for Granny while Granny did her thing. But she could see a part for her in all this, too.

  Dr. Murray came into the room with another museum official and they looked around the group in confusion. She spotted Elizabeth with Granny.

  Elizabeth said in a loud voice, "The museum has this ceremonial dress for an inventory project. Granny's been hoping to see it for the first time since this picture was taken. Have you got it for us, Dr. Murray?"

  Dr. Murray closed her eyes and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead.

  "Could you bring it out for all of us?" Red eyeglasses lady asked.

  Granny winked at Tommy.

  Dr. Murray said, "You've succeeded in getting them to change their priorities. Someone is working on retrieving it. I was coming to bring you back."

  "Why can't you bring it out here, so everyone can see?" Granny said.

  "I'll see what we can do," Dr. Murray said.

  25

  Tommy was the last one in. They ended up in a museum classroom. A bank of windows along one wall let in the sunshine, making the space bright and welcoming. Another wall had built-in bookshelves overloaded with books and plastic boxes with large-print labels that said things like Mammals, or Rocks. Tommy took a quick lap around the room. A set of drawings from a previous class was displayed. The kids had drawn creatures they'd observed outside, which looked like squirrels and dogs and, in one case, a ladybug.

  One of the seniors studied the drawings with him.

  "You think they'll let us draw bugs?" he asked.

  At the front of the room, Elizabeth stayed with Granny, the two of them with their heads together. They had the same smile, pointed chin, and sly look in their eyes.

  After all this, he still wasn't convinced they would bring Granny her dress. Maybe they'd bring whatever they had, hoping the elder wouldn't recognize the slight at her advanced age.

  Dr. Murray came in with a plastic box and called the group to gather around the table. Some of them stood on their tiptoes to get a peek. Dr. Murray put on a pair of plastic gloves and took out a basket the color of dried grass with a faded design of triangles.

  Granny gave her a dark look.

  Dr. Murray laughed. "I've got a team getting the ceremonial regalia. This is a big place. Lots of research goes on here. The work we do is for good, I promise." Dr. Murry stopped to catch her breath. "While we're waiting, perhaps you'd like to talk about this."

  This time, she didn't even offer gloves. She held it out. Granny studied it for a moment. "For storage. Keep acorns or pine nuts in a basket like this."

  Elizabeth didn't touch the basket, but she pointed to the contrasting brown and pale-yellow design. "Where did these come from?"

  "I was hoping someone would ask me that," Granny said, the two of them sharing a look.

  He could watch Elizabeth all day. The force of his feelings, both frightening and invigorating, stirred up something that he wasn't sure he knew how to handle. She looked up long enough to give him a secret smile before returning her attention to Granny, prompting her with another question, like they'd rehearsed it. Elizabeth's head tipped down to listen, her loving gaze making his heart hurt. Whatever happened after this, they had to make sure that everything that Granny worked for kept moving forward.

  Granny described the different materials used for weaving and reminded them that contemporary Indians gather what they need from the forest and along the river to make baskets today.

  Tommy's phone vibrated in his pocket and he checked. Angie phoning again. Not ready for that yet. He hit the ignore button.

  Elizabeth drifted back to the corner to join him and whispered, "She's good, huh?"

  "You, too. You're a good team." His gaze traveled over her face, his eyes resting on all the places his lips had touched the night before. She leaned into him. "I know what you're thinking." She was warm and solid next to him. "I can't believe we did this." Her eyes were shiny when she grabbed his arm. Everything about the moment felt right: being with Elizabeth, helping an elder and showing the visitors a living heirloom. Linda would be proud.

  "We leaving after this?" she asked.

  "If they ever bring that dang dress out," Tommy said. "This might be a trick, too."

  "I don't think so. Will you stay tonight? Go home in the morning? I could show you around the rez, and we could have a little more time." Her gaze locked on his, her intentions clear.

  A flush of desire and affection washed over him just as quickly as the brisk reality. "I promised to be back tomorrow. I can leave late and drive all night."

  "If you insist," she said. "I can make late work."

  A series of images went through his head, their bodies coming together, Elizabeth's hands stroking his chest, her mouth finding every sensitive spot.

  He cleared his throat.

  She gave him a sideways smile.

  Granny handed the basket back and made an impatient sound. Another staff member came in with a big flat box. The seniors moved back so they could slide it on the table. Dr. Murray opened the box and pushed it over to Granny. Her face lit up
as she lifted it out of the box.

  She slid the faded yellow buckskin off the table and shook it out with a snap. The beads and shells on the heavy leather fringe clacked together.

  Dr. Murray’s eyes widened, and she fumbled for words.

  "Our people make things sturdy," Granny said. She grabbed the red-eyeglasses lady and tied the dress on her and showed her how to move so that the shells jangled together. "This makes the music," Granny told them.

  Granny's pure joy was worth it. Maybe Linda could help him learn something about tribal cultural items. The idea was completely foreign and impossible, but he wanted to try.

  With some help, Granny put the dress back on the table. "Nice to see it again. I want to take this home. Get it back to the dance, so it remembers itself."

  Elizabeth exhaled. She was so close he felt her breath on his cheek. She said, "I should have known that was how this would go."

  Tommy thought Granny was making a joke. "She's serious?"

  "She didn't want to see it; she wants it back."

  "They're not going to let us take that home," Tommy said.

  At first, Tommy thought Elizabeth was angry, but she laughed to herself. "I guess we're not done here yet."

  That look in Granny's eyes…Elizabeth had seen it before. Next thing, she would have some crazy idea about sitting around the museum until they agreed to give the dress back to her.

  "Is it possible to get it back?" one of the seniors asked. "Or could they borrow it?"

  "Are visitors allowed at the ceremony? Would we be able to see it?" another asked.

  Dr. Murray took off her glasses and pinched her nose before taking a deep breath. "Unfortunately, we don't have a procedure for loaning these ancient artifacts to outside organizations."

  "Our relations. These are our relations," Granny clarified helpfully.

  "How did this go into a collection in the first place?" someone asked.

  Dr. Murray said, "Items come from different sources. There were collectors long ago, who gathered items from different tribes. The museum gets donations or purchases items. When you ask about returning, there is a process called repatriation."

  "You have to give our things back," Granny said.

  "It's more complicated than that, but yes, repatriation is a process for returning certain items. There's a research process before anything is returned."

  Tommy took out his phone. "Linda said we're supposed to take detailed notes." He smiled at her. "Have you heard anything I should note?"

  "All of it," Elizabeth said.

  "Let's get it started," Granny said.

  "Hold on," Dr. Murray said, her patience flagging. "The process is initiated by a Tribe, and the museum would research the item being claimed and work with the Tribe's research team. If the item meets certain criteria, it would go back to the Tribe. This museum has returned tribal items before."

  Elizabeth's mind raced. She didn't know they could get things back. She could help Granny with the research. There were probably other items they didn't even know that they could bring back.

  Tommy had a serious look on his face as he typed into his phone. "If the Tribe got it back, you could wear it."

  Elizabeth suppressed a laugh. "I'm not a maiden."

  "Oh," he said, and after a moment he added, "I suppose that's my fault."

  "We have lots of girls in the family. Someone could wear it." They would have to find someone at the Tribe who could teach her. Or find her a class. They'd probably have to come back here and find a way to bring Tommy. He helped make this happen. She didn't want to make another trip without him.

  Dr. Murray steered the discussion back to the ceremonial dress and the materials used. She let Granny explain how the ceremony unfolded and the different roles of the women and men dancers. They wrapped up with a few more questions before the tour leader and her purple flag headed out the door.

  One of the seniors squeezed Elizabeth's arm. "You two help her get that stuff back," she said.

  Tommy had his eyes on her. She liked his hair better without the ponytail, but she'd tell him that later. His lips were pressed together, and she wanted to feel them on her neck again.

  He said, "You're like her. You're not going to give up."

  Her heart stuttered. She'd only known him a handful of days, only woken up next to him twice. But she never wanted to wake up without him again.

  "They're putting it away," he said.

  "I want another look." Elizabeth tore herself away from him so she could study the dress close up. It smelled like dusty leather, and home. The shellwork patterns were complex, and she couldn't imagine how long it would have taken to braid all that beargrass. Granny had tried to teach her a handful of times, but Elizabeth was easily frustrated, happy to gather the materials and process them but not as patient with the weaving. She examined the tangle of fringe, afraid to touch it.

  "Go ahead," Granny said.

  Elizabeth wiped her fingers on her dress before she ran them over the shells. "So old."

  "You understand we're doing our job," Dr. Murray said. "If we handed back items to every person who came in and asked, we wouldn't have much of a collection. Some items are in the museum legitimately. I'll initiate a research request for this obj—, your relation. When the Tribe makes a repatriation request, we'll be ready.

  "The item is scheduled to be here for one year, and then it goes back to the historical research center. Honestly, I'm not convinced this item is eligible for repatriation." She held the side of the box with gloved hands.

  "We can convince you," Granny said cheerfully, putting it away herself, her hands lovingly smoothing over the deer hide and arranging it in the box. "It wants to come home with us," she added.

  "What do you remember about it?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Heavy. Back then we didn't do so many traditional dances. It was a little bit scary if we was going to get into trouble."

  "Who had the dress?"

  "One of my uncles. I don't remember." Granny shook her head. "I'm eighty-two years old."

  "You're ninety-two, Granny."

  "Oh. Creeps up on you," she said. "What next?"

  Dr. Murray said, "It starts with your Tribe. Have someone contact us formally and we'll get the process going. We will talk again."

  "How long does it take?" Elizabeth asked, trying to remember the ceremony schedule in her head. Summer was coming. Maybe they could bring it out soon.

  "Years," Dr. Murray said.

  "Years?" she repeated, her eyes flashing to the elder, gazing into the box like she was looking at a newborn baby, her crooked index finger tapping pieces of abalone together. "Does it always take years?"

  "Not everything gets returned," Dr. Murray said, not unkindly.

  "She has her job, we got ours," Granny said.

  "I'm going to learn how to do this," Elizabeth said as they fitted the top back onto the box.

  "Good. This one too," she said, looking at Tommy.

  "If I can. I'm not good at paperwork," Tommy said.

  "You can learn," Granny said. She gripped the side of the table with both hands.

  "We're headed out. You get to sleep at home tonight," Elizabeth told her.

  Granny nodded. "I'm proud of you two. You see how to do things now."

  26

  Tommy was surprised by how quickly the ride back went by. There was still light in the sky when they reached the reservation. Elizabeth insisted he see the ocean before he left, so they dropped Granny off and headed out.

  "You call this a road?" Tommy said when she directed him to turn off onto a bumpy stretch of grass.

  "Don't you see the tire tracks? Park by those rocks and pop the trunk."

  Tommy obeyed. She hopped out of the car and dug around in the back until she had an armload of blankets and towels and said, "Follow me."

  The sun was low, and a cool breeze stirred the trees, not what he recognized as swimming weather.

  "We're really doing this?" The thought of immers
ing in any cold water—much less ocean chop—brought goosebumps to places he didn't know could goosebump.

  "We are," she said with a crafty smile. "Our rez is along the river and where the river meets the ocean. We don't have time to go out to the beach, but this spot is good, too."

  The trail snaked through the trees before plunging down, rocks and tree branches helping him stay on his feet. At the bottom of the trail, the ground was a river bar composed of coarse sand and smooth rocks in a range of sizes: softball, bowling balls, basketballs. The water stretched out shimmering gray and gently lapped at the shoreline.

  He was relieved he wouldn't have to slosh around in crashing waves. Elizabeth moved easily, hopping from rock to rock, leading away from the trail. She threw the blankets and towels in a sheltered spot. She stared into the distance, dark eyes glazed over, the smallest frown on her face.

  The desire to kiss her was overwhelming.

  As if reading his mind, she turned and took his hand. "You ready?"

  "Which thing?" he asked.

  She offered a sly smile and indicated he should kick off his shoes.

  "Am I going to drive home in wet underwear?" he asked as she tugged him toward the water's edge.

  Elizabeth shook her head. She pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the rocks. He stopped her hands when they tugged at his waistband.

  "Do not fear, no one will bother us," she said.

  The spot was not secluded. There was a wide expanse of water, steep mountains covered with trees with a road just out of sight, and not one but two boats far out on the water.

  "But—"

  "Exhilarating, isn't it?" She yanked her dress over her head. Her bra and panties weren't far behind. She glowed, even in the fading light, her smile radiant. He studied her carefully to bank the memory.

  Tomorrow he would be back at the center, repairing the damage with Linda, dodging prying questions from Rayanne and Ester, dealing with Angie, and the bus, and elders, and basketball. Once he was gone, there was no guarantee he would ever see this again.