Rose saw understanding flash in her daughter’s eyes. She knew what happened when the tribe shut someone out. They simply ceased to exist as far as the tribe was concerned. No one spoke to them, no one acknowledged their presence.
“You rely on your weapons and backup,” Rose continued. “I rely on my wits and common sense. Your weapon can misfire or jam, and backup may never arrive.” She paused and looked directly at Ella. “Now tell me who has the better deal.”
“Mom, you should have been a lawyer,” Ella said, following her into the kitchen, then grabbing her pistol and ammunition from the top shelf. “I’ll see you later tonight. In the meantime, be careful.”
After Ella left, Rose gathered her reports and notes and placed them inside a large purse which normally remained stored on a closet shelf. The beautifully decorated, hand-tooled leather purse, more like a portfolio with handles, had been given to her by her late husband many years ago, and was still in fine condition.
Today, she was going in prepared with a report that would be even better than the council had expected, and the knowledge gave her confidence. Ready to do battle, she grabbed the keys to the truck and left home.
SEVENTEEN
It was a few minutes past ten when Rose met with four tribal council members in a committee meeting room with a long, shiny wooden table and soft, comfortable chairs with padded armrests. Franklin Lee and Bernice Pioche were both were in their early sixties and wore modernist clothing. Their expressions were somber, as were those of John Begay and Kevin Tolino.
Bradford Knight and Curtis Largo joined the gathering as well, having come in just after her. The two men sat to the right of Rose and, like her, across the table from the four council members.
When Councilman Begay asked to see the report, Rose presented him with the two copies Willie had printed off, then remained quiet as they circulated around the table.
It seemed an eternity to Rose as the council members murmured among themselves and turned the pages. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Curtis and Bradford stealing furtive glances at each other as they leafed through the copy a councilman had passed to them.
“I think these are wonderfully done,” Bernice said at last, putting her reading glasses away.
“But they’re not what she was hired to do. They are not location-specific,” Largo argued.
Bernice gave him a stony look. “She’s protecting the sites. That’s reasonable, particularly since copies of these reports will go to people we hardly know, let alone trust.”
“It wouldn’t make sense to trust strangers with important tribal secrets,” Kevin added. “Besides, one can’t identify a specific plant on a map unless it’s an enormous tree. Living things are subject to constant forces, and next season such a map may be obsolete.”
“I still can’t sanction a report I’ve yet to see before today except as disorganized notes. I was hired to work with her, but we’ve yet to do so,” said Largo.
Rose cleared her throat. Having anticipated this issue, she brought out a piece of paper listing by date and time every contact she’d attempted to make with Curtis, and the outcome—usually leaving a message asking for a return call. She set it down so the council members could read it. “This is a record of the many times I have tried to contact our tribal expert to solicit his help, but apparently his other duties have prevented him from responding. Out of respect for his scheduling conflicts and conflicting priorities, I’ve found another authority with very impressive credentials the Anglo world respects.”
Largo dismissed her list with a gesture. “This woman is using the temporary assignment the tribe generously granted her as an excuse to stir up trouble on every front. Recently, I understand that she actually unearthed the resting place of a Navajo buried in an unmarked grave. In addition to disturbing the remains of our ancestors, she’s apparently taken it upon herself to prove that the plants are endangered as the result of a conspiracy perpetrated against the tribe.”
Although she was furious, Rose concentrated on remaining calm. “I have seen evidence—which can be corroborated by several other well-respected members of our tribe—that some of our rare plants are being harvested almost to extinction by one or more malicious individuals,” she said, deliberately not telling them about the entrenching tool. “That’s a fact. As far as digging up a grave—those circumstances have nothing to do with my job for the tribe,” Rose said firmly. “That can be verified by tribal police officers in Arizona and New Mexico, two highly qualified medical examiners, and a tribal council member currently at this meeting.”
“What she says is accurate and true,” Kevin said. “The burial situation was a separate matter involving a tribal member. I asked her to get involved.”
“Mr. Knight,” Bernice said, “we haven’t heard from you yet. What is your interest in this?”
Knight looked pale, but as he spoke, his face became red immediately. “I was asked by my tribal contacts to use native plants whenever appropriate to reclaim and restore the areas where mining has taken place. I personally requested a list of endangered plants from Mrs. Destea to make sure I stayed clear of those, but she refused to show me the report. Having given the matter a lot of thought, I’m now asking that the council rescind their request altogether, and allow my company’s experts to choose the plants that are to be used.”
“Why? You’ll eventually get a copy of the report,” Bernice said. “Expecting to get one before the tribe does is very presumptuous of you, I believe.”
“Perhaps. But as I said, I’ve given this a great deal of thought. The truth is that native plants are problematic. Although the many varieties we’ve chosen in the past have all been very difficult to keep alive once they’re transplanted, I support the suggestion made by some members of the tribe who advocate using genetically engineered or hybrid plants designed to survive and flourish in local environments. I think those plants would have a much better chance of surviving the shock of transplant, and be far more useful in the long run.” He went on to formally detail some of the plants Maria Poyer was working with, and explained their uses as forage for livestock.
Bernice looked at Rose. “What do you say to this?”
“Transplanting plants isn’t always easy,” Rose admitted. “The Plant Watchers have advised the power company to be very selective and use only the strongest native plants—the ones that know how to survive. The Plant People like to choose homes they can be comfortable in. The scientist world calls it “succession,” I was told, but it all amounts to the same thing. One plant will prepare the land for another, if you choose right. Tumbleweeds protect the soil from the wind, then snakeweed comes and, because of their long roots, pull nutrition up from the soil. Other plants follow, and in time the land is restored.”
Knight exhaled loudly. “We have tried to use native plants, but the failure rate is still unacceptably high. Mining has changed the soil structure. I strongly advise the council to consider letting Maria Poyer work with us to reclaim the land. We’d all come out ahead then.”
Curtis Largo nodded. “I agree. Plants come and go and that’s the way it is with everything. If we have the means to develop and introduce better, heartier plants, they’ll provide for the tribe, and the project will pay for itself in the long run.”
“Everything is connected,” Rose replied, “so we have to be very careful which plants we consider, because that will affect other living things, like the wild animals. When you upset the balance, bad things tend to follow. If we introduce something new, we also have to safeguard the old because that’s what provides for us now.”
“But the old plants are dying off,” Largo said. “You said so yourself.”
“We’ve had problems with drought and bad weather, but I never said that the plants were dying off. What we’re concerned about isn’t a natural shift in populations due to the environment. What we have is a problem due to the theft of the Plant People. That should be addressed and handled before we tackle anythin
g else,” she said, looking at each of the council members. “What we’re dealing with is far more than normal attrition.”
“What do you propose? We can’t put the police on this, or the Forestry Department either. Both agencies are understaffed as it is,” John Begay said.
“We have many eyes of our own working on this right now,” Rose said. “The Plant Watchers will help me observe and gather evidence against this thief. Once we learn who’s responsible and why, I’ll present that information to this council.”
“Do you have any idea who this person is?” Kevin asked.
“I have nothing I can discuss yet. But sooner or later, he’ll make a mistake that will lead us directly to him.”
The council members asked them to leave the room so they could discuss the matter, and Rose joined Largo and Knight out in the hall.
She sat down in one of the empty chairs against the wall to wait.
Largo sat beside her, leaned over, and spoke in a soft voice. “You made me look like a fool.”
“I just confirmed the obvious,” she said casually.
He glared at her, then got up and strode across the hall.
Rose saw Knight looking at her. “Well, have you got something to say too?” she said.
He hesitated, then cleared his throat and spoke. “Joining a gardening club isn’t that unusual for a woman your age, but these Plant Watchers sound like activists on a mission.”
“We adapt to the situation,” she answered with a shrug, “and we do what has to be done.”
Almost forty-five minutes passed before they were called in again.
Bernice spoke first. “Mr. Knight, we understand the problems you’re facing, but we can’t approve genetically engineered plants in reclamation areas until we know much more about them and their long-term effect on the environment. If you feel strongly about this, please prepare a report that will help address our concerns.”
“I’ll ask Maria Poyer to work with me. You’ll get your report.”
“That’s fine,” Bernice said. She then looked at Curtis Largo. “You obviously have a communications issue with Mrs. Destea that needs to be resolved. Make it a point to be available to her whenever she calls. We’re passing this recommendation on to your supervisor today.”
He nodded curtly.
Last of all, she looked at Rose. “My fellow council members and I believe that everything you’ve turned in today shows well-conducted research, thought, and a great deal of work.”
Rose felt a wave of relief sweeping over her.
“But the plant theft situation worries us all very deeply. Many of our people rely on the Plant People for medicine and for rituals that are vital to our beliefs, and we can’t allow these plants to be harvested to the point of extinction. This council needs to know exactly how critical the situation is, and for that reason we are asking that you deliver your complete report two weeks from today.”
“Two weeks? But that’s nearly impossible. There’s so much to do yet—”
Bernice held up one hand. “Come up with a random survey, if necessary, that gives us a statistically reliable estimate we can take to the entire council. If the situation is that critical, we can’t afford to wait much longer.”
By the time the meeting ended, Rose was exhausted. She’d fought well, but there was an even heavier mantle of responsibility on her shoulders now.
She thought of Lena and how they’d supported each other through the years whenever one of them faced a crisis. Now they were both engaged in battles, and neither one of them could help the other. Needing to see her friend, Rose drove directly to the hospital from the tribal offices.
Rose went in through the side door and walked down the hall leading to Lena’s room. As she approached the open door, she heard a familiar voice. Sara Manus was inside, and a ritual was in progress.
Rose stood silently in the doorway as the hand trembler asked Gila Monster, who was all-knowing and could see the future, for his help. Rose knew that Gila Monster, whose front legs shook whenever he moved forward, would now cause the trembler’s hand to shake and guide her to the truth.
Sara’s hand began to tremble and her hand was drawn to the area over Lena’s heart, then to her head. The cycle repeated itself many times.
The ceremony took about twenty minutes. Finally, as Sara’s eyes became clear and focused again, she looked down at Lena, who lay very still. “Your heart is sad and you’re troubled.”
Lena nodded.
“I will speak to your hataalii. You need to have a Blessing Way to bring you peace. But while you’re here, you will need Life Way medicines and a Good Medicine Song to be sung for you to Beautiful Flowers, the Chief of all Medicines.”
Afterward, when Sara left, Rose met her in the hall and gave her friend a big hug. “I’m so happy that you came.”
Sara reached into her pocket for the small turquoise bear fetish. “I brought it back for you,” she said, handing the fetish to Rose. “Keep it with you always, and if you need me, I’ll be there. No friendships run as deep as the ones we make when we’re young—before life teaches us not to trust or give our hearts. As adults we learn to protect ourselves by holding back so we have something we can cling to when things go wrong. But once we start doing that, we sacrifice the closeness that came with innocence.” She smiled. “And that’s a long-winded way of telling you I miss you and think of you often.”
“Can you come back into the room and visit for a while just as a friend?”
Sara shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’ve got patients waiting for my return.” She paused thoughtfully, then added, “I met with our friend from Teec Nos Pos the day before he died. He told me about the problem with the Plant People. Are you any closer to finding out who’s responsible for all this?”
“No, but I won’t give up until I have answers,” Rose said.
“I’ll keep my eyes open as well,” Sara answered, hugging Rose again. “Good-bye for now, but my thoughts will be with you.”
“One more thing,” Rose said, stopping Sara before she could leave. “Did our friend from Teec Nos Pos mention having seen anyone hanging around where they didn’t belong?”
“Only in general terms. He hated seeing outside companies working here on our land. It saddened him to see new television or phone company cell towers right in the middle of our wilderness areas.”
“I feel the same,” Rose said quietly.
As Sara hurried off, Rose finally went inside Lena’s room. She looked thinner and paler, but Lena’s eyes sparkled with alertness today. Sara’s visit had already done some good.
“The hand trembler came. Did you see her?” Lena asked.
Rose nodded. “I waited outside. You look better already.”
“I miss my home and my life,” Lena said. “But my friends come to visit, and that helps.”
Lena began coughing, then, worn out, lay still again. Rose swallowed back her fear. “You keep fighting this thing, I need you around. It gets lonely without my best friend to talk to at night after the day is done.”
“You’ll still have company. Your family is always there. I’ve always envied you for that. With my son so far away …”
Rose patted her hand. “Your daughter and granddaughter are always here. Think about them.”
Rose knew that Lena had always favored her son and it broke her heart daily to know he’d chosen to leave the Dinetah. She looked down at their hands, aware of how old they seemed. Did people really age naturally, or was it the weight of too many shattered dreams that wore them down and ultimately broke them?
Rose stayed with Lena until she fell asleep. Later, as she walked to her truck, Rose thought of her daughter and granddaughter, and how much she loved both of them. Tonight, she’d spend time with them—time devoted only to family.
Rose spent the following afternoon alone, driving and hiking around to new locations, trying to find some of the herbs and plants that had all but disappeared from the area. After a long, exhaustin
g, fruitless day, she finally headed home.
As she drove slowly up the gravel road leading to her house, it was so quiet all she could hear was a dog barking in the distance. Suddenly realizing that the only dog in the immediate area was Two, she pressed down harder on the accelerator.
She was almost home when she spotted a figure running away from the house toward the arroyo beyond the horse corral, Two at his heels. Dawn’s pony, Wind, was running around in circles, whinnying and kicking up dust.
Fear swept through Rose in waves, but she managed to keep her wits. Pulling to a stop quickly, she ran toward the house, knowing she had to call Ella immediately. As she reached the front porch, she heard the sound of an engine roaring away, and spotted a cloud of dust from just over the hill beyond the arroyo.
With her heart pounding at her throat, she stepped inside the front door. It was unlocked now, though she knew she’d locked it when she left earlier. As she stepped inside and looked around, nothing in the living room was disturbed, but the broom was lying there on the rug. As she walked into the kitchen, she saw that the intruder had kicked the locked back door open, and that was probably when he’d run into Two, who’d been inside. This morning, knowing how long she’d be gone today, she’d left a kitchen window open just far enough so Two could get inside by climbing onto the woodpile, then through the window. A chair was positioned just right so he could climb back out again.
When she discovered a large, raw beefsteak on the floor, she knew what had happened. The intruder had hoped to bribe the dog, throwing the meat through the window, but shredded strips of a nylon jacket on the kitchen floor told her it hadn’t worked. Two had waited for the person to come inside, then done his job anyway.
Turning around, she looked back at her broom on the living room floor. There was a tuft of Two’s hair in the bristles. The intruder had used the broom to fend off Two long enough to get into the living room and close the door to the kitchen, then had the rest of the house to himself or herself. But the minute the intruder had left the house through the front, Two had given chase by climbing back out the kitchen window.
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