by Aimée Thurlo
“Myka, this building is all but perfect for HMI. You and Robyn could both have proper offices and the crafters can all work here if they choose, including the woodworkers. The basement has enough room for their tools and working underground will take care of the noise issue. The best part is that you’ll finally be drawing a line between home and work.”
“You’re right. HMI would become my job—separate from my private life. Maybe I’ll even find ‘me’ time now. It’s hard to get away from work when it’s right there in your living room, kitchen and bedroom.”
“Exactly,” Josh replied. “Getting a company off the ground is really a challenge. Working impossibly long hours is part of the process, but we all need downtime.”
“I give work one-hundred-percent, but I’ve missed being able to leave it at the office when I go home,” she said. “There’s still a problem, though. I don’t want our people to be reminded on a daily basis that their former employer sold them out. I want everyone focused on what we’re trying to accomplish now.”
“Then let’s do something to change the look and feel of the building. We can paint some of the walls with cheerful colors, arrange for background music and maybe even use the mayor’s logo—that ‘no dinosaurs’ thing. We’ll remind people that the past is gone and we’re moving toward the future.”
“I like that.” She smiled broadly. “Let’s place that logo on the entrance doors so it’s the first thing people see when they come in.”
He nodded. “I’ll make sure the inspections are done and that the utilities are up and running ASAP. In the meantime, you can decide what layout you’d like in the wool processing rooms and other specialized areas. Have Henry Vaughn check out the basement for his people, too. Then get your combined wish list to me. I’ll draw plans based on the feedback you give me.”
“Let’s take one last walk through,” she said.
“Good. As we go along, tell me what you’re envisioning for each of the rooms.”
As they explored the building, including the basement, they brainstormed different possibilities. Finally back on the ground floor, Joshua pointed to a closed door beside the stairs.
“What’s in there?” he asked. “More electrical panels?”
“I don’t remember.”
Joshua tried the knob, but it was locked. Finding the right key, he unlocked the door and looked inside. The small closet was filled with brooms, mops, buckets and other janitorial supplies.
Joshua’s gaze was drawn to the faded jacket hanging on a hook behind the door. The name tag over the breast pocket read Nez.
“Dad’s,” he said, his voice quiet. “I guess he didn’t want to bring home any reminders.”
“I’m sorry, Joshua.” She looped her arm around his and held on to him. “It’s hard, I know. You miss him.”
“I wish we could have had one more talk. Something haunted him throughout his life and I think that’s what ultimately held him back, but I never figured out what it was. I remember trying to convince him to work smarter, not harder, and go up the next step in the ladder. I wanted him to start his own janitorial firm, but nothing I said ever got through. He’d given up wanting anything other than what he already had.”
“Joshua, you’re forgetting something important. Your dad worked very hard, that’s true, but he was living the life he chose and was happy. Isn’t that what we all want?”
“That’s just it, Myka. I don’t think he was happy. To me, he seemed like a man who’d given up and accepted his fate. I know he loved woodworking, but he’d come home too tired to do anything except sit in his easy chair.”
“Your dad was an incredibly skilled woodworker. He could carve a piece of wood and give it life. I remember seeing some of his animal figures.”
He sighed. “I’d fish them out of the trash and try to get him to sell them, but he wouldn’t allow it. He said it was just whittling. Most of those I saved are still on the windowsill in his library.”
“Your father seemed like a man at peace with himself, Joshua. That’s worth something, even if you don’t agree with his choices.”
He looked at her, her words slowly sinking in. “You may be right. I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’ve always focused on finding what’s at the end of the rainbow, but maybe his rainbow was different from mine.”
Joshua closed and locked the door. “We need to get this building move-in ready, so let me start right away. Which office do you want?”
“I’d like the upstairs office that’s down the hall from what will be the wool processing area. Robyn will have to choose the one she wants. We’ll also need internet connections, battery backups for the computers and an emergency generator. Without functioning dryers the wool could be ruined by a power outage.”
“Okay then, we’ve got a plan,” he said. “Let’s get going.”
* * *
LATER THAT AFTERNOON Myka was back home, balancing HMI’s books. After finishing her work and backing it up, Myka lingered over a cup of her favorite vanilla cinnamon tea. These little pleasures were rare for her these days.
She’d just finished the last sip when the doorbell rang.
Bear looked up at her and sighed.
She laughed. “Bear, that’s positively anti-social of you. Let’s go say hello to our company.”
Myka opened the door and waved Robyn inside.
Reaching into her purse, Robyn brought out a huge rawhide bone and gave it to Bear. “Here you go, pal.”
“You’ve made a friend for life,” Myka said as Bear took the bone to his bed and started chewing it.
“We need to talk, Myka.”
“This sounds serious. How about we sit down and I’ll make some tea?”
“Perfect.”
Robyn took a seat at the kitchen table, staying silent while Myka boiled the water.
“You’re starting to worry me, Robyn. What’s wrong?” Myka asked, bringing the teapot and two mugs to the table.
“It’s not bad news. I’ve just got a concern.” She waited as Myka poured the tea. “I’ve been doing a lot of free online publicity, but I’ve taken that as far as it can go. Traffic on the webpage is good, but analytics tells me we’re getting more repeat business than new. To generate more traffic, I need an advertising budget, even if it’s small. We’ve got to tell the world that HMI is here. That means special targeted promos, and those cost money.”
“We can squeeze some money out of the budget, but you’ll have to think small scale.”
“I’ll make every dollar stretch, I promise.”
“So what are your plans?”
“For starters, I’d like to run a few online ads. I’ll design them and write the copy myself, but I’m going to need new software...and a real office. I’ve been contacting specialty stores who might be willing to carry our merchandise, particularly our large tapestries. We haven’t sold many through the site because shipping is expensive,” she said. “The problem is that at Mom’s, no matter which room I choose, the customer I’m talking with through Skype sees a family photo collection on the wall behind me.”
“Working from home has been tough on a lot of us,” Myka said, “but I’ve got good news. We’ve found a home for HMI!” Myka told her about their plans for the former IVA office building.
“Great! One more thing. I hate to push, but how about a new computer? Can we afford it? Something with more RAM, storage and a faster processor for multitasking would make my work a lot easier.”
“Come up with several computer choices that’ll meet your needs and I’ll see what I can do. Joshua is going to make sure we get good internet.”
Robyn sat back, now more relaxed. “We’re all working hard, but it’s exciting, isn’t it? Each day is filled with challenges, and there’s a surprise around every corner.”
“All t
hat can also be exhausting,” Myka said with a thin smile.
“True, but I’ve never been happier. I love networking,” she said. “Speaking of that, did you know J. R. Vega came back into town?”
“Who?” Myka asked.
“We knew him as Jerry Vega.”
“I remember Jerry,” Myka said. “He was super smart but lived in the shadow of his big brother.”
“J.R. started out as an IT tech at Insomuch Software in Albuquerque, then he hit it big.”
“How’d that happen?”
“He invested heavily in the company, which became a major player in the business software market. By the time Jerry sold his shares, he’d already made a small fortune. Now he can do whatever he wants.”
“Wow, and he’s back home?”
Robyn nodded. “You know what a great artist Jerry’s father is, right?”
“Yeah, he painted a lot of murals in public buildings until the funding dried up.”
“Exactly. Jerry set up a website for his dad, and since then, Mr. Vega has been selling his paintings all over the world.”
“That’s great! What a wonderful idea.”
“I’ve got a lunch date with J.R. today. I’m hoping he’ll give me some ideas on how to market our brand.”
“Good thinking!” With a mischievous smile, she added, “Back in high school, you told me you had a thing for Mr. Vega’s son. At first, I thought you meant Luke, the hunk. I never dreamed you liked Jerry.”
Robyn laughed. “Luke’s muscle and charm, but I was always in awe of Jerry. I remember him going into these long discussions about algorithms and abstractions for manipulating data structures. Half of what he said was over my head, but I’d pretend I understood because I loved listening to him.”
“You’ve always picked brains over brawn.”
“I still do.”
Myka blinked. “Wait—do you have a crush on him?”
“Maybe,” she said. “We’re not kids anymore, but that just makes things spicier. You know what I mean. Look at you and Joshua.”
“There is no me and Joshua.”
“Sell that to someone who doesn’t know you, Myka.”
“No, I’m telling the truth. There’s nothing between us. He’s here for now, but once he lands a job, he’ll disappear again,” she said. “I don’t need that kind of heartache. I’ve had it with goodbyes.”
Robyn gave her an impromptu hug. “You’ve been through hell and back, honey, and I’m so sorry!”
“I’m fine—now.”
“But you’re lonely,” Robyn said.
“Not really. I’ve got Bear, and once I start working in an office again I’ll be around people all day long.”
Bear looked up at her and stopped chewing.
“Don’t worry, big guy. You’re coming to work with me. You can even have your own official title. How’s ‘Security’ strike you?”
Bear gave her a huge panting grin and they both laughed.
“I better get going, Myka. I’ll let you know how things work out with J.R.”
After Robyn left, Myka decided to fix herself a sandwich. She opened the cupboard, then the fridge, and realized she was out of everything except tea, coffee and one pint of emergency ice cream. The milk was sour and the few slices of bread that were left were trimmed in gray fuzz.
“You have plenty of food, Bear, but I’m out. Wanna go for a car ride?”
The dog got up, a two-step process due to his size, the rawhide bone sticking out of his mouth like a cigar.
“Okay, you can take it with you, but just so you know, that makes you look far less ferocious.”
The dog wagged his tail in response.
As Myka walked outside she saw Josh loading up his truck. Deciding to offer her help, she walked over.
He set a box down on the tailgate and smiled at her. “I’m glad you came over.”
“Need a break?” Myka glanced down and saw that he’d packed up many of his father’s books, maps and papers. “Are you giving those away?”
“Yeah, I’m taking them over to the library in Painted Canyon. They can use reference materials.” He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I’ve cleared out most of Dad’s things, but this part takes longer.”
“Are you sure you won’t need them in the search for Brooks’s will?”
“I’ve already read them over, and they’re no help. It should have been a snap to pack them up and give them away, but they’re part of Dad’s collection...”
“I hear you.” He sat down on the porch’s front step, and she took a seat beside him. “Some things are just harder to part with than others. That’s how it was for me, too. Tanner’s favorite book, his class ring, his special tie...”
“I can see that with a spouse,” he said, “but a parent... It’s different. It’s the natural order, you know? Why does giving these things away bother me so much?”
“Maybe you’re just not ready,” she said, putting a hand on his arm.
He covered her hand with his own and didn’t say anything for several long moments. “Maybe it’s the act of saying goodbye...I think the reality of it is just hitting me.”
“Grieving is tough, Josh. Those emotions don’t come when you think they should.”
“Maybe that’s it. I never got a chance to make my peace with it.”
“You need time,” she said. “There aren’t any shortcuts to something like this.”
He took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “There’s one thing I have to do.” He showed her a small leather pouch. “This belonged to my dad. It was his jish, his medicine bag. These can hold a variety of things, but Dad’s held only corn pollen, which brings peace and signifies the continuity of all life. It was a gift from Uncle Rudy, given to him after Mom died. I’ve held on to it, not sure what to do, but as I was packing up Dad’s maps and books I got an idea.”
She looked at him, waiting.
“I’m going to scatter the pollen at Dad’s special place.” He met her gaze and held it. “I think he would have wanted you to be part of that.” He looked at an indeterminate spot across the yard, then back at her. “It’s not just that. I want you there, too. Will you come with me?”
“I’d like that.” This was the first time he’d ever asked her for anything. More importantly, he’d trusted her to see a side of him he never showed the world.
“You don’t even know where it is, yet,” he said with a ghost of a smile.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be there.”
He took her hand. “Then let’s go. It’s not too far to walk.”
“Let me put Bear away,” she said, standing up.
“No. He was Dad’s friend. Let him come.”
Bear followed as they headed out through the back gate into the piñon juniper woodlands that lay a quarter of a mile from the house. They’d hiked up and down these hills in their youth, but it was clear that one place in particular had been important to Adam Nez, a place he’d shown only to his son.
After about ten minutes, they encountered the pebble-strewn base of an intermittent stream. The water flowed only after heavy summer rains, a rarity these past few years.
“Sometimes we’d wade around and watch the little shrimp that flourished in the pools before they dried up again,” Myka recalled. “I remember you saying that they hid inside their shells during the dry seasons but would come back again next year, or the year after.”
“And they did, right? I learned about them from my father. They’re some kind of brine shrimp that love bracken water,” Joshua replied.
“Are we going to the top, where the water sometimes flows over the ledge?”
He nodded and continued climbing up the dry wash. As they progressed along the gentle slope, the path narrowed, a
nd before long they were in a gully with sloping sandstone walls. Ahead was a low rock cliff, layered in shades of tan, gray, yellow and reddish orange. Sagebrush, thin grasses and a few hearty junipers grew along spots in the ledge where eroded sand and soil had found refuge.
Joshua stopped, then pointed toward a shiny, almost varnished layer of sandstone along the lowest section of the water channel. “We’ll have to circle around a little to get to the top. It’s just too steep here.”
Several minutes later they were standing on the bowl-shaped bed of sandstone above a cliff that descended about ten feet in a nearly vertical drop.
Against the rock face was a cairn of stones with one small turquoise bead near the top. “This was Dad’s special place. Cairns like this can be found all around the Navajo Nation. Most of the time they mark someone’s passage or journey, but to Dad, this one signified peace...and memories. He’d come here and make an offering to Earth Woman whenever he was troubled.”
Joshua took the pouch from his pocket. “I’m going to sing a Hozonji he taught me. It’s a good luck song that brings protection and can aid a person facing a challenge. This song has been passed down through my family, and it’s seldom shared with an outsider.”
“Whatever happens here stays here,” she said, meeting his gaze.
“By scattering the pollen in this particular spot, where rainwater collects, I’m asking Earth Woman for the blessing of rain. Pollen, like rain, is life.”
As his voice rose in song, a range of emotions flowed through his chant. She didn’t speak Navajo, but understanding the meaning of each word seemed less important than listening with her heart. What she heard was the cry of a warrior mourning his father and moving on to face new battles. It was beautiful and powerful, each note filled with the strength that came from centuries of tradition.
As he emptied the pouch, she saw the breeze catch the motes of pollen, swirl them in its grasp, then let go, allowing them to drift gently back to the earth.
Some of the golden grains fell over the cairn, a few adorning the turquoise bead and glistening with the light of the afternoon sun.