Seized

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Seized Page 13

by Lynne Cantwell


  Brock turned to Durant. “Come on, Leo,” he said.

  “This isn’t over,” Durant said, fist raised toward us, as they trudged away. “We’re getting the county involved. I’ll have this land if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Don’t forget to call off your bulldozer,” I called after them. Brock waved without turning around.

  The three of us did not move until the sound of the Navigator’s motor had faded. Then I sagged into Joseph. He wrapped his arm around me to steady me.

  “Brock thinks we’re an item,” I giggled.

  “Let him,” Joseph said fiercely. “He deserves more pain than that, for what he has put you and Grandfather through.”

  “Joseph,” Looks Far said mildly. Joseph gave me a small squeeze and let me go. “Come inside, both of you,” the old man continued. “We have much to discuss.”

  Chapter 9

  “Can they do that?” Shannon asked. “Can they convince the county to condemn Looks Far’s home?”

  Joseph, Looks Far and I had rapidly decided that Shannon needed to be in on our discussion, so I’d walked out to the county road and called her. She invited us to her office and cleared her afternoon schedule for our meeting. In return, I had stopped at her favorite coffee place on the way back and bought us all refreshments: a large mocha for Shannon, a large caramel latte for me, black coffee for Joseph and Looks Far.

  “I do have a coffee maker here, you know,” she’d said when I walked in with her joe.

  “Shut up and say thank you,” I said, handing her the paper cup.

  Now we were gathered in Shannon’s inner sanctum, where she counseled her clients. She sat in what she called her therapist’s chair: Queen Anne style with a comfortable seat, but not so comfortable that it lulled her to sleep. A large box of tissues sat on the coffee table between her and the sofa where Looks Far and Joseph sat. I was in an easy chair to Shannon’s left, the windows behind me.

  The three of them were looking at me for an answer to Shannon’s question.

  “In theory, yes, they can,” I said. “I’m by no means an expert in real estate law. But as I understand it, a county can condemn a piece of property at the request of a developer. However, the developer has to convince the county that the condemnation is for the public good. That means either the owner’s existing use of the land must constitute a public nuisance, or the tax revenues generated by the existing use must be insufficient to support the drain for its upkeep on the county’s coffers.”

  “Neither of which is true, in Grandfather’s case,” Joseph said.

  I nodded. “I agree with you. Clearly, Durant doesn’t. That’s why he’s hired – Perry.” I almost said “us,” but caught myself just in time. It was going to be a hard habit to break.

  “The little man simply wants the land,” Looks Far said, “no matter what he has to do to get it.”

  “Also very true,” I said. “And he will continue to make your life miserable until you cave in and persuade the tribe to sell.”

  “Or until you get tired of the harassment and move,” Shannon said to Looks Far. “Then there will be no one between Durant and his development plans. With an absentee landowner who checks on the property only once a year or so, Durant could have the casino half-built before the real owner finds out.”

  I hadn’t considered this angle. “And Durant would be smart enough to tear up Looks Far’s home first,” I said thoughtfully. “He might be assuming that once the most sacred part of the parcel is destroyed, the tribe could be convinced to sell it for less than market price.”

  Looks Far shook his head. “The tribe will never sell,” he said. “It is not the surface development which makes that land sacred.” He looked past me, out the windows, where the daylight was fading swiftly. “It’s always the same. The Spirits entrusted the land to us, to care for. It’s not a thing to be bought and sold, to be plundered and ruined. But all that the white man thinks about is profit. Money.” He grunted a bitter laugh. “Little slips of paper that are valued only because we have all agreed they should be.” He turned to me. “Money is ephemeral. You have it, you spend it, it’s gone. In the end, it means nothing. Only the land remains. Only the land is eternal.”

  “I know,” I said softly.

  Joseph put his hand on the old man’s shoulder. We were all quiet for a moment.

  Then I remembered something, and grinned. “That old man is sure gonna be pissed at Brock.”

  “What old man?” Shannon asked.

  I related my vision from two nights before, finishing with, “Obviously the old guy has power, but I can’t figure out who he is. He doesn’t fit the description of any Native American gods I’m familiar with.”

  Shannon cocked her head. “Describe him again.”

  “Old guy,” I said. “Flowing white hair and beard. Wearing a cloak and an eye patch.”

  “Eye patch?” Shannon said. “You didn’t mention that before. What color was his cloak?”

  “Blue. Why?”

  “Odin the Wanderer,” she said, wide-eyed.

  “Like the head of the Norse pantheon, Odin? The head guy from Wagner’s ‘Ring Cycle’? That Odin?”

  She nodded emphatically. “That Odin. Exactly. The Wanderer is one of his guises. I wonder what a Norse god is doing here?”

  “I am not surprised He’s here,” Looks Far said. “Gods and goddesses from many lands accompanied their countrymen when they immigrated to these shores. For the most part, they have kept to themselves and governed their own kind. Of course, with intermarriage comes intermingling of the various pantheons.” He shrugged. “Sometimes They are at cross purposes, but almost always, They work things out among Themselves.”

  “How do you know that?” Shannon asked, fascinated.

  Looks Far shrugged again. “They’ve told me. I’m a medicine man. White Buffalo Calf Pipe Woman is not the only Spirit that has contacted me, but the others have all been Ute.”

  “Could you ask them why Odin’s stirring up trouble for us?” she asked.

  “I will try,” he said. “But it’s likely They don’t know any more than White Buffalo Calf Pipe Woman does.”

  “Or They may not be willing to say any more than She has,” Joseph said. “The Spirits aren’t always as forthcoming with information as we would like them to be.” He grinned crookedly.

  “No kidding,” I said. “Just how many factions are involved in this war?” I was suddenly seized with panic. All the fears that I’d been pushing away for the past week flooded through me. A chasm of uncertainty seemed to yawn in front of me; one false step and I would topple over the edge into disaster, dragging my friends – and all of humanity – with me.

  Shannon reached out. “Take my hand, Naomi.”

  I shied away. “No!” I said. “I can’t! I won’t do that to you! You’re already in too deep….”

  “Naomi, listen to me,” she said, still holding out her hand.

  I shook my head, cowering farther into a corner of the chair. I was gasping now. “It’s too much. It’s too much! I can’t do this! Everything I care about is going to be destroyed. And I can’t fix it. How can I broker a peace agreement among the gods? I’m just one person!” I was sobbing now – big, heaving, unlovely sobs. I drew in my arms and legs and pressed my face into my forearms.

  I heard Shannon get up from her chair. She pried one of my hands loose and, with gentle force, laced her fingers through mine. Then Joseph did the same with my other hand.

  Almost against my will, something in me began to draw strength from each of them; I felt loved, cared for, protected. The panicked part of me wanted desperately to reject their support. It didn’t deserve it; it didn’t think I deserved it. But Shannon and Joseph would not be denied. They would help me. Even as I pushed their help away, they pushed back, harder, washing away my self-doubt.

  Then I felt Looks Far join in. Like a benediction, he spread peace and acceptance through us all.

  The circle was complete. Gradually
, my panic subsided, until I could banish it to the corner of my being where I had stashed it before. As I began to turn the key, Shannon said, “Don’t.”

  I opened my eyes. “Why not?”

  “You need it,” she said.

  I shook my head slowly. “But you just saw…when it takes over….”

  “Locking it away gives it too much power,” she said. “It feeds on darkness. Unacknowledged, it grows stronger. Let it into the light of day, Naomi. It can’t hurt you. It can’t hurt any of us.”

  “She’s right,” Looks Far said. “I have lived with the knowledge of this coming war longer than any of you, and it terrifies me. I am an old man. I would like nothing better than to live out the rest of my days in peace. But the Spirits have other plans for me. I am glad beyond words to have you all with me in the coming battle.”

  “I am frightened, too,” Joseph admitted. “I am only one man, yet I must guard the woman who will preserve humanity. Evil walks among us, and I’ve just learned how very nearly it had you. But I found you just in time.” He squeezed my hand. “I am here for you. I will not let you go. And I will not let fear stand in my way.”

  “You are a warrior, my grandson,” Looks Far said, approval warm in his voice. Joseph acknowledged his grandfather’s words with a glance.

  “You’re safe here,” Shannon said. “It’s okay to say what you feel.” With a little laugh, she said, “I’m scared, too. We’d be fools not to be. Every time we talk about this, the Universe has upped the ante. It was scary enough when White Buffalo Calf Pipe Woman said She wanted to rein in Jehovah. But She implied that all the old gods had formed a coalition – that They were all in agreement. Right? And now we know that’s not the case. Not to make things worse,” she said, “but I’d bet Odin isn’t the only one who’s not on board.”

  “And if Odin is real, and White Buffalo Calf Pipe Woman is real,” I whispered, “then they’re all real. All of the old gods. And there are thousands of them around the world. Tens of thousands. How can I get all of them to agree?” I felt like curling into a ball again.

  “You don’t have to,” Joseph said. I looked at him doubtfully. “She told us so, during the sweat. Remember? She said there are others around the world who are working for the old gods, too. All we have to worry about is our little part of the world, right here. All we have to do is meet the challenges we’re given.”

  I snorted. “Yeah. Sure. That’s all we have to do.” I raised my elbow to wipe my face on my sleeve. “Can I have a tissue?”

  Shannon dropped my hand and, in a single motion, grabbed the box from the table and handed it to me.

  “You do that a lot, huh?” I said, dabbing at my eyes.

  “They give us a special day of training in social worker school,” she grinned.

  I blew my nose with my free hand. “Sorry, everyone.”

  “For what?” Shannon asked.

  “Oh, you know,” I said, a little shakily. “For falling apart there. You know how much I hate drama.”

  “Drama,” she said, “is when a person’s reaction is overblown compared to the gravity of the situation. There is no possible way to overstate the gravity of this situation.” She resumed her seat. Looks Far did the same. Joseph, however, still crouched by my chair, my hand clenched in his.

  “Dude, let up,” I told him lightly. “You’re cutting off the circulation.”

  “Sorry,” he said, and eased up a bit. He stayed right where he was, though, and I was grateful. I was grateful to all of them.

  “Accepting help is not something I’m good at,” I admitted, looking around the room. Shannon snorted in agreement. “Ever since law school, I’ve always done everything myself. I moved out here on my own, I got through law school without help, and I blazed my own trail at the firm. I’m not used to having people I can turn to. Thank you.”

  “Just doing my job,” Shannon said with a grin.

  Looks Far nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “Your arrival this afternoon may be the first time an Indian has ever been grateful for the arrival of the cavalry.”

  We all laughed. “Glad I got there in time,” I said. Maybe Shannon was right about airing out my fears; I felt better than I had in days.

  Then another thought occurred to me that further lightened my burden. “It wasn’t me, after all!”

  “What wasn’t you?” Shannon asked.

  I looked around the circle, embarrassed. “For a little while there,” I told them, “I thought I had pushed Brock into proposing to me at the restaurant. But Odin had gotten to him long before that.”

  “Naomi,” Shannon said, taking my hand again, “I think you did push Brock. I think he’s been fighting against fulfilling the terms of his contract with Odin for a long time. A good little lieutenant would have locked you up in marriage years ago.”

  I thought about it, and nodded. “You’re right, of course. He wanted the perks Odin could give him, but he didn’t want to fulfill his responsibility, so he kept me on a string. Just like with Durant and the title search – he did just enough work to force the deal through.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “Down deep, he’s a lazy bastard. He needed a kick in the ass to do his duty – you just happened to be the one to give it to him.”

  I nodded and sighed, looking down at my lap. Joseph squeezed my hand again, and I responded with a small smile. Then I pulled myself together. “So what do we do next?”

  “I need to contact Charlie,” Looks Far said. “He doesn’t know about the little man’s latest actions. I should have told him months ago when his company first contacted me, but, well, I thought I could handle it myself.”

  Joseph grinned. “Naomi’s not the only one who has trouble accepting help.” Looks Far gave his grandson a stern look.

  “Want to call him now?” Shannon asked. “You can use my office phone. We can wait in the reception area, if you’d like.”

  “I would like to, yes,” Looks Far said.

  “Dial 9 for an outside line,” Shannon said as we trooped out.

  It was full dark. We stood in the middle of the waiting room, a respectful distance from the closed door of Shannon’s office, and talked about dinner plans. It seemed a given that the team would eat together. Joseph had finally dropped my hand, but he still stood with his arm touching mine, as if only physical contact would reassure him of my safety.

  After fifteen minutes or so, the office door opened. “Naomi,” Looks Far said. “Charlie would like to speak with you.”

  “Sure,” I said, and went to pick up the phone in Shannon’s office. “Mr. Frank? This is Naomi Witherspoon.”

  A surprisingly young voice responded. “Hi, Naomi. Please call me Charlie. Looks Far has told me a lot about you.”

  “I hope he only shared the good stuff,” I smiled, glancing up at Looks Far, who was hovering near the desk. “Charlie, do you mind if I put you on speaker phone? I’d like for the whole team to be in on this call.”

  “Good idea,” he said. Shannon stepped to the phone and hit the requisite button. “Can you hear me, Charlie?”

  “Clear as a bell.”

  “Perfect. Looks Far is here with me, as is his grandson Joseph, and my friend Shannon McDonough.”

  “Hi, Shannon. How are ya, Joseph.”

  “Hi, Charlie,” Joseph responded. “How’d the hunt go this fall?”

  “Got me a six-point bull last month.”

  “Nice,” Joseph said. “How’d your wife feel about cleaning the carcass?”

  “Same as last year,” Charlie said. “Had to send it to the butcher.” The men laughed. “Come on over next fall and join us, Joseph. We’d love to have you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try to make it.”

  “You say that every year.”

  “He means it every year,” Looks Far said. “Charlie, let’s talk about the situation we’ve found ourselves in with this development company. And I’m sorry again for not filling you in before this.”

  “That’s okay. I unde
rstand your reasoning and I will make sure the tribal council understands it, too. Now, I would like to meet with this gentleman who’s causing us all this trouble. Naomi, can you set that up for us?”

  “I’d be happy to contact Perry for you,” I said. “When would you be available to meet?”

  “Is tomorrow okay? We’ve got some weather predicted for the upcoming weekend. Great news for the ski resorts, but not so great for trying to get through the Eisenhower Tunnel. I’d like to be there and back before the storm hits.”

  “Perfectly understandable,” I said. “I’ll call Perry right now and we’ll get back to you.”

  “Good enough. Talk to you soon.”

  I disconnected the call, then looked askance at Shannon; she gestured to the phone. I picked up the handset and dialed Perry’s cell phone number from memory.

  “Dorfman,” he barked.

  “Perry, it’s Naomi,” I said, trying to sound normal – as if I hadn’t handed him my resignation less than thirty-six hours before. “The trustee for Mr. Guzmán’s property would like to set up a meeting with Leo tomorrow. He’s driving in from Rifle, so midday would probably work best for us. Do you know whether Leo would be available then?”

  “I’ll make him available,” Perry said. “Let’s say noon at our office. I’ll have Sandra order lunch.”

  “That would be fine,” I said. “Thanks for agreeing on such short notice.”

  “No problem. I’d like to get this horror show wrapped up as soon as possible. And Naomi?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry for that scene at Guzmán’s this afternoon. Brock has screwed up this matter right and left. I can’t figure out what’s gotten into him.” He paused. I could imagine him shaking his head. “If he hadn’t already told me he’s leaving, I’d fire his sorry ass. You were right, by the way – he’s going to work for Leo after the first of the year. Quite a blow to the firm to lose you both at the same time.”

  “Thank you, Perry,” I said sincerely. “I’m sorry we’ve had to part ways like this. We’ll see you at noon tomorrow.” I disconnected, then handed the handset to Looks Far and got out of his way so he could call Charlie back.

 

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