by Bella Knight
Inola, Nantan, and Henry went to get the trucks. Numa rushed to help hook up the trailers. Katya and Callie ran over to the tack room to watch the girls. The teens and Gregory ran into the barn for feed, hay, and tack.
“What the hell was that? It’s like someone kicked an anthill,” asked Victor.
“Abandoned horses,” said Gregory. “It’s why there’s a barn over there.”
“Then, what’s this barn for?”
“Hydroponics,” said Gregory. “The horses need feed.”
“Don’t you dare drill holes in this wood,” said Victor, horrified.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Gregory. “It’s all special tables, and the lights are LEDs. The sprayers use ninety-percent less water. The plants grow on a special cloth. I’ve seen the videos. It’s awesome.”
“Whatever,” said Victor. “Be careful with that!” he said. “That’s old growth hardwood!” he burst out to Micco, as he caught a board that had slipped from his grasp on his ankles.
“Sorry, Sir,” said Micco. He grasped the board carefully and took it to be hung.
Lunch was on a long line of picnic tables. It was pulled pork, roast chicken, macaroni and green salads. Then biscuits, butter, honey, and carrots in brown sugar. They washed up and dug in.
Those on swing shift went to work. Those on graveyard went to sleep. Ivy, Ace, Bella, and Lily stayed a little longer. They ended up on the roof, pounding in shingles, while the outside frame got its covering of boards, inside and out. Ivy, Ace, Bella, and Lily took off, and the day-shift Nighthawks came over, despite being exhausted from their own work. By nightfall, it was done.
The horses arrived, a little-painted pony in tan and white, a white horse with tan withers, and a big black —stallion.
“Oh, my God,” said Gregory, rushing down to help get the horses in the barn.
The horses were exhausted from the ride and too little feed for too long, their ribs sticking out.
“Whoever did that to those horses should be shot,” said Katya. Gregory was stunned; his wife usually wasn’t so bloodthirsty.
“If Inola finds out who they are, they won’t be long for this world,” said Gregory. “She still has the gun Ivy gave her.”
The teens all ran down, rushing to make hot mash for the horses, and to put down hay in the stalls. Some went to prepare to stay up all night to be sure the horses survived.
The little white lights were strung in the trees and went on, and they sat at the picnic table again, too exhausted for words. The fried chicken strips, cheese herb biscuits, and corn salad were nearly inhaled. They thanked Victor, and he left. Inola, Henry, and the teens came out to eat, leaving Nantan with them.
“Whose horses were they?” asked Gregory, his voice cold with fury.
“The police have them,” said Inola. “They better pray they get the full penalties, which involves prison time. They ran out of money and set them loose, but we traced the tracks back. We had to pull over three times to keep them fed. Doc’ll be by in the morning to take a look.”
“Whatever you need,” said Callie.
“We’ve got this,” said Inola. “This is what we do.”
The next morning, an old Paiute woman was sitting quietly in an Adirondack chair on the front porch of Henry’s house. She had on faded jeans and a worn, flannel top. David and Henry brought out coffee and offered it to her. She refused. Henry brought out water, but she refused that, waving her hand away. He brought out a Coke, and she popped the top and drank deeply.
“Sister,” said David, “What can we do for you?”
She waved her hand at the house. “Of course, you are welcome, sister,” said Henry. She nodded, finished her Coke, and went inside.
She made fry bread and eggs and sausage, and poured a carafe of orange juice she squeezed herself. After breakfast, Henry showed her a room, and she nodded. She had nothing with her but the clothes on her back. She went back downstairs, and began cleaning the kitchen. Henry went to his own room, and took some shirts and jeans, and put them in the dresser drawers in her room. He took out a new toothbrush and left it on her dresser. He went online and, guessing at the size, ordered some camisoles, socks, and underwear to be delivered. He went to the closet and found a jacket and duster and hat. Her boots looked small. He went to the kitchen to get some water, and looked at her feet. He guessed her size, and ordered some boots, too.
He ran back down and went out. Inola and David were with the horses. The ponies were giving the side-eye to the stallion, who had his own segment of pasture. He looked tired, beaten. Nantan was in the paddock with him, stroking and speaking gently to him.
“Where did that grandmother come from?” asked Inola.
David shrugged. “We spoke to her in Paiute, and she understood it.”
“There isn’t an extra horse, car, truck, or bike here,” said Inola. “How did she get here?”
“I have no idea,” said Henry. “She doesn’t have a single possession other than what she’s wearing. I ordered things.”
“Well,” said David, “she’s ours now.”
“Yes,” said Henry.
They watched the horses some more. The new mares were less listless.
“We must have a sweat,” said David. “We will go to prepare the site today. I have seen it; some blood was spilled, but I washed it and smudged it with sage. The persons are in prison where they cannot do things to harm others. Ivy and Ace were brave and true, and that must be celebrated.”
Inola nodded. “That is true.”
“We must bring beads,” said David. “Except Inola.”
“What are the beads for?” asked Henry.
“Guilt. I have seen how others look at Inola. They wish to have done the impossible, to have found evil men that were hiding themselves. No one could read minds, or see through walls. You are people, not superheroes.”
“So, we bring… guilt beads?” asked Henry.
“Yes,” said David. “She will create something beautiful with them, and wear them with pride. The guilt will pass away, and Inola will once again be Inola, our warrior woman.”
“I will tell the others,” said Henry.
The sweat was held in the cool of the evening. The ladies changed into sweat dresses. They sat, sweated, talked, sang, and the smell of burning sage and sweetgrass permeated in the steamy air. David did the first prayer, and Henry another one. Then, Inola said a prayer for the next round. Inola sat in the center, and everyone sang to her. They put the beads in a jar, of black, red, crimson and orange. They had to cut the sweat short for Inola; Bella took her out to hydrate her and cool her off. The men sang to the beat and the drums, then Inola went back in to sit and sing with the women. Ivy and Ace gave their prayers for healing in English, not Paiute. David called for the door to be opened, and they all went back out.
After the sweat, they drank bottles of water, changed clothes, and went out to logs to eat a meal of tortillas, chicken, peppers, watermelon, and cantaloupe. They drank sweet tea and laughed. They took out blankets and sleeping bags and laid down under a million stars. Many went home after the feast, but the teens threw up tents. Inola laid out a pattern and looked at the beads. She took out a needle and thread, and began beading by firelight, for a warrior necklace.
They rose at daylight and went back down to take care of the animals. Henry, Nantan, and David took the students on a hike. When they got back, the New Jersey people were there, ready to help install the new hydroponics system. They were delighted with the barn, walking around and through it.
They were stunned at the criteria. “No putting a single screw, hook, nail, or hole in a single board,” said Nantan. “We can build an artificial wall, or use PVC pipe, but no touching the old-growth hardwood.”
“Okay,” said a woman with brown hair pulled back in a clip, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, speaking a heavy Bronx accent. “Let’s map this out.”
They took some time sketching, then they got busy. The teens were delighted to com
e around with electric screwdrivers and nail guns. They had the four levels of plant boxes set up very quickly, and they knocked together some ladders. The nozzles went in, the tubing installed, the sensors installed and calibrated. Then the touch screens were put up, the dashboards installed, and it was ready to go. They stopped and ate lunch: chili, baked potato soup, cornbread, and raw string beans.
“My God, this is beautiful,” said Bronx, real name Nancy White. “Why do this out here?”
Henry pointed down at his feet. “Desert is not good soil. We have wind and solar cells here already. Horse feed is expensive, and we take in rescue animals. We have Las Vegas in one direction, and the res in the other. If we can get this up and running and make a profit, then other reservations can use this to feed themselves and to sell the greens for salad. And the Wolf Pack here can learn a trade, and help replicate it, disseminate it.”
A tiny black woman named Danvers broke in. “Evangelists. You want to spread it around.”
“The land has been destroyed by over farming and pesticides. This is not traditional, but it is intelligent,” said Henry. “It is a new way to save the land.”
“We’re saving the land, one tray, and strip of LED lights at a time,” said Danvers. “So, what do you want to plant?”
“Glad you asked,” said Nantan. “We want to feed the horses, so hay, grain, beets, corn. We want to feed ourselves, so I have five kinds of tomatoes, six kinds of carrots, five kinds of lettuce, quinoa, amaranth, three kinds of corn…”
Nancy held up a hand. “Hold up. We’ll trade seeds with you. We’re starting an heirloom seed repository of our own, and we’ll trade from our bank to get some new ones. You got the Cherokee purple tomato seeds?”
“Absolutely,” said Nantan.
“You got red amaranth?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Nantan.
She beamed at him. “Show me your spreadsheet, and we’ll see if we can supplement your seeds.”
Retrieval
The Chinese restaurant downstairs had a party; Hua Bao was free to fly. They received tickets to Shanghai, business class, for Callie, Hu, and Grace to go pick her up from Singsun, the Chinese Facebook. Callie had gotten Grace a passport when she joined the Nighthawks; sometimes they went to Mexico, and they were contemplating a Toronto trip. She talked to a travel agent and got some very expensive visas. Mrs. Hua did not want to go; she wanted to run the restaurant. So, the girls got red (Hu) and yellow (Grace) rolling suitcases. Callie stayed with a large backpack. She filled it with what a parent would need for three days with two kids and a letter from Mrs. Hua.
Then, they flew to San Francisco, got a layover, and walked around the airport. They got back on for the extremely long night flight to Shanghai. The kids played video games, did schoolwork, and worked on their paper flowers for Mother Bao. Callie did her own schoolwork and turned in a paper at 13,000 feet.
They had delicious food. Callie worked on her Chinese, watched a surfing movie with the girls, and got them to sleep. She ate a snack, and then she fell asleep too.
The girls stretched in the aisles when Callie took them to the bathroom. She got them squared away, and breakfast was served, and there were two more bathroom visits before she got them playing a magnetic board game. They switched back and forth between backgammon and Chinese checkers. They put the game away and worked on the flowers some more. They learned some more Chinese and science, and read a story about a horse to each other.
Callie made sure all of their things were stowed, and they landed. They got their cases and backpack and went to find Mama Bao.
They were stunned to find her with a big sign, saying, “Welcome Daughter and Friends,” surrounded by photographers. Hu rushed to her mother, dropping her rolling bag, so Callie grabbed it and her and Grace watched on. The song and flowers were forgotten in a rush of smiles and tears and babbling in Chinese. The lights were bright, and the cameras flashed, and Callie ignored them all, holding onto her daughter with one hand and the errant suitcase with the other.
Hu finally stopped telling her mother everything that had happened since they’d last seen each other, and asked to be put down. She stood next to Grace, and Grace handed her one of the bouquets of paper flowers. The girls sang the flower song in Chinese and bowed. Callie bowed as well, and Hu bowed. Then Bao knelt to hold both girls. Everyone cried. She stood, and Callie stepped forward and embraced her.
“Sister Bao,” she said in Chinese. The girls wriggled in between them, and so the moms picked up their kids and wiped each other’s tears, and Bao finally accepted her flowers.
They went to a hotel to drop off their bags, and after a super-fast check-in were led to a suite with two bedrooms. Then they all went down for tea and little cakes. The girls spilled out their lives to Mama Bao, the bemused interpreter trying to keep up with the flow of mixed English and Mandarin Chinese. The girls gave cards to Mama Bao, who took them and read them aloud. The Chinese interpreter helped her with the English parts. She cried again, and the girls wiped her eyes and fed her little cakes.
They went to a children’s park, where the girls went crazy for the slide that dropped them into hundreds of plastic balls. Bao, Callie, and the interpreter sat down.
“Thank you so much,” said Bao, tearing up again. “Hu is so happy.”
“So is Grace,” said Callie. “They are sisters now. You are my sister.” The women hugged again, more tears fell, and the photographers went crazy taking pictures.
They went to a science and technology museum, and the girls went insane for the “Light of Wisdom” area where the kids could play games and shoot at an exhibit.
“We have to talk about sleeping arrangements,” said Callie. “The girls sleep together in their pods at our apartment, and I built pods for when they stay with your mother. I’d like for them to sleep together still. I have made a pull-down bed for you to stay over when the girls are with me.”
Bao clenched her hand. “You have done so much! I do not understand. I was just a woman at a factory. But now, I am a teacher, and I will teach my own daughter.”
“I used to be a cocktail server. I delivered drinks in a bar while the children were at school. Now, I teach and learn more about teaching. So, our daughters changed both our lives.”
“My husband is dead,” said Bao. “Cancer. What about your husband?”
“I was very young,” said Callie. “The father wanted nothing to do with her. Or me.”
“Stupid,” said Bao. “They are the most precious, most beautiful, most intelligent girls.” She fingered a rose from the paper bouquet she had put behind her ear.
“I agree,” said Callie. They rose and walked through the rain forest section.
They sat again as the girls took them up some stairs to the World of Robots.
“We will study together,” said Callie. “In the mornings and at night.”
“Tell me about the school,” said Bao.
“The kids do a lot of the work online. For the not-online parts, a teacher teaches for ten to fifteen minutes, then they must prove they understand the material. Then, they work on projects together. I used to be in charge of making the lunches. Now, we’re teaching the kids how to make them. It’s great.”
“I will enjoy it there, I think,” said Bao.
“Yes, you will.”
The girls went on the spherical spinning machine and came out dizzy. They left the museum and were taken to a nearby restaurant. Grace and Callie handled their chopsticks like pros. Then, they went to a studio for an interview. Grace and Callie chatted in English and Chinese; a second translator was brought in to help translate their rapid-fire chatting. Bao sat next to her daughter and Callie with her own. The women described their relationship, with Callie keeping Hu up-to-date on how her daughter was doing.
Bao cried at how sad she was to be an ocean away from her daughter, and how she was so happy that her daughter had found a sister and an auntie and still spoke Chinese and ate with chopsticks. Hu went over
and hugged her mother, wiping away her tears, and the entire audience cried.
They went to a clothing store and were given things for the girls; shirts and shorts, soccer balls and coloring books. The girls said thank you in both languages and waved. They went to a computer store, and Bao was given a free laptop to help her do her homework; the one she was using was ancient and kept dying on her. She bowed many times to the proprietor, and they both endorsed the store and the computer brand.
They were on television that night. The girls sang their Chinese flower song. They did a little dance. They sang All-American Girl, switching back and forth between “Chinese” and “American” in the lyrics. The audience loved them, and they gave more paper flowers to the judges. They were taken to another restaurant, where they ate soup and dumplings. The girls giggled.
Back at the hotel, the girls took their baths, then the moms theirs, and they settled in to watch the surfer movie again with Chinese subtitles. The girls fell asleep, and the moms gave up and curled up around them and slept as well.
They had breakfast, then they went to a cell phone store, and had photos and free phones. The girls wore matching dresses they had received the day before, red top halves with a yellow, skirt trim. They tasted teas while the girls had little cakes; Callie realized she was endorsing them, and shrugged. They went to the Great Wall and the Forbidden City. The girls took tons of pictures and the photographers took tons of photos of them. Then they went to a park and went down the canal on a boat. The photographers sent out a drone to continue to photograph them. They had lunch in a small shop, the proprietor inundated with cameras. He moved tables outside, and waited on them hand and foot, bringing them teas and special things from the menu.
The girls were exhausted, so they went back to the hotel for a nap. They went to Tiananmen Square. Later on, they went to a special dinner with some officials that made Bao freeze up with nervousness. The girls sang for the officials and handed out paper flowers, startling and charming everyone. They took a walk and had ice cream in a nearby park.
They went to see some acrobats, and the girls were absolutely stunned and delighted. The performers invited them up on stage after the show, and one sixteen-year-old performer asked the girls what they could do. They showed off their tumbling on a mat, and the performers clapped. The performers did a little mini-show, and the girls handed out more paper flowers.