by Paty Jager
The entry was well lit from the large windows in the front of the building. Posters and Native American Art hung on the walls. An easel had a listing of activities for the month. An elder sat on the couch to her left. He nodded but didn’t smile. Straight ahead was a long, sloped walkway. She contemplated whether to walk down when a group of men in their twenties, joking and jostling one another, appeared from the depths of the corridor.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
The joking stopped. All dropped their gaze to their feet, except for the tallest of the group.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“I’m looking for my aunt. Josephine Elwood.”
The young man’s cheeks reddened and his gaze lit everywhere but her face. “She’s down the hall over there. Fourth door.”
Shandra wondered about the way they all shifted their feet and hurried on by her. She shrugged and followed the young man’s directions. She didn’t remember Aunt Jo as being a hard nose, but from the way the young men acted it made her wonder.
The fourth door on the left stood ajar. Shandra knocked and walked in. Aunt Jo looked up from her seat behind a computer monitor.
“Shandra. You made good time.” Aunt Jo waved her hand at the computer. “I have to finish filling out next month’s schedule. Take a seat or wander through that door and grab a drink out of the little fridge.”
Shandra dropped her purse in a chair and wandered into the next room. From the stacked folders, boxes of decorations, scrap paper, stickers, and glue sticks it was a store room of sorts. She found the small fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Returning to the other room, she found Aunt Jo frowning at the monitor screen.
“Anything I can help you with?” Shandra asked.
“No. This is an old system and things don’t always save as they should.” She glanced up and smiled. “I called several cousins. We’re all meeting at Velma’s house for dinner tonight. I thought it was time you really met your family.”
Shandra sat down and took a sip of her water before answering. She hadn’t planned on a family reunion. “That’s nice. I didn’t come here to get reacquainted with family. I came to learn more about my father.”
Jo glanced up from the monitor. “This is the best way. Edward’s family will all be there and you can ask them anything, but be prepared. You’ve stayed away for many years and there will be those who don’t trust you. You’ve lived as a White man. The only time you showed interest in your heritage was at my mother’s funeral. The elders will question your motives for asking questions of the dead, now, so many years later.”
Shandra had expected there would be members of the family who would take their time determining if she should receive answers to her questions.
“I know I’ve not been a good member of this family. At first it wasn’t by my choice, then later, I wasn’t sure how you would all accept me.” Shandra opened her water and took a swallow.
Aunt Jo smiled. “Once they see you want to be part of the family, I’m sure they will come around.” She clicked a few more buttons on the keyboard and stood. “There. I’m done for the day.”
Shandra stood, slipping her purse over her shoulder. “What all do you do here?”
Aunt Jo waved a hand. “I set up all the events, coordinate the use of the facilities, and make sure there are people in charge of opening and closing the facilities.”
“That’s a lot of juggling I bet,” Shandra waited for Jo to put on her coat and grab her purse from the back room.
“It is. But if there is no one to set up events and make the kids feel at home here, they will go out and drink and do drugs. I try to have events that will appeal to all ages, and hopefully, keep them informed on how to live a clean life.” Aunt Jo closed the door and locked it. She slipped the key into her purse and headed to the front door. Instead of walking to the door, she turned down the hallway on the opposite side of the sloping corridor.
“Down there,” she pointed to the tunnel the young men had walked up, “is the gym. It is always busy whether it’s a basketball practice, game, tournament, or a speaker or other event.” She continued down the short hallway.
Large windows looked down into the gym. There were more men, the age of the ones she’d encountered, playing basketball.
“Basketball is the main entertainment around here. Families play families and there is much rivalry.” Aunt Jo shook her head. “It’s not good to have such feelings for other families.” She shrugged. “That’s what happens when so many different tribes are living in one place.”
“How many different tribes are there?” Shandra asked. She’d looked them up on the computer and hadn’t given much thought to whether or not they would get along.
“Twelve tribes live on this reservation. They get along for the most part, but there is always bad feelings, jealousy, when a person or family of one tribe has good fortune. Those that only see bad try to bring down the ones who see promise.”
“That sounds like outside the reservation. There are some who don’t strive to do better, yet they talk poorly of those that do,” Shandra said.
Aunt Jo nodded. “The people and tribes of the reservation are like anywhere. You have those that work hard, get a good education, and come back to try and help. Then you have the ones that feel they have been wronged and instead of trying to change things, they drink or do drugs, don’t finish school, and continue to complain. They try to forget their hardships by using drugs or drinking themselves into a stupor, or committing suicide. We have a high rate of suicides, mostly in our youth.”
Shandra had heard stories about drugs and alcohol on reservations but had thought people were stereotyping and just wanted to slur the Native Americans. “Isn’t it against the culture to take one’s own life?”
Aunt Jo nodded. “But when they are high, they forget about traditions and honor. They only want out of the depressing life they see in front of them.”
Shandra followed her aunt out into the parking lot. The sun was already drifting to the horizon.
“Follow me. I’ll take you to Velma’s. She’ll be glad to see you.” Aunt Jo unlocked the door of a newer pickup, grasped the hand hold, and pulled herself in.
Shandra unlocked her Jeep and followed Aunt Jo out of the parking lot, back to the highway, and left to Nespelem.
The streets were narrow but mostly paved. Some houses and yards were neat and tidy while others could use a coat of paint and repairs and had several old and new vehicles cluttering the yards.
Shandra tried to remember Velma as they wound through the streets. What she remembered of the woman came from their meeting at Ella’s funeral. Velma was her father’s cousin. She was a bit older than Shandra’s father, tall, wide shoulders, and big hands. She was also at the seven drums ceremony. Shandra scanned her memory. Yes, Velma, one of her daughters, and Shandra were the only Higheagles at the ceremony.
Did that mean Velma would understand Ella coming to her in dreams?
Aunt Jo turned into a short drive that led to a large, tidy house. A small barn with three horses in the corral stood to the side of the house. There were already half a dozen cars parked in front of the lawn and house.
Shandra parked next to Jo. Her aunt smiled and waved her to follow.
Shandra stepped out of the Jeep and raised her phone. “Just a minute. I need to let my friend know I made the trip fine.” She texted Ryan she was at the reservation and then called Lil. Lil didn’t answer. Shandra left a brief message telling her she was with her aunt.
Jo stood on the porch waiting for Shandra to join her.
Hurrying up the walkway, Shandra shoved the phone in the pocket on the side of her purse.
“Don’t be nervous. Velma has been anxious to visit with you ever since mother’s ceremony.” Aunt Jo put an arm around Shandra’s shoulders and knocked on the door.
Shandra’s heart raced. She needed answers but had a feeling she would be as novel to her relatives as they were to her.
Chapter Four
The large woman Shandra remembered as Velma answered the door. Her black hair, streaked with gray, hung loose around her shoulders. She stood a good head taller than Shandra and her shoulders filled the door opening.
“Come in! The weather is getting colder.” Velma ushered them into a brightly lit living room. Several women Shandra’s age and older sat on the couch and a chair. Two young men leaned against a doorway.
Shandra stopped scanning the room. The taller of the two had been the one from the community center who’d answered her question. The minute he realized she’d recognized him, his cheeks darkened.
That was why he’d hurried out of the center. He’d realized she was family.
Velma took their coats and started the introductions.
“This is my daughter, Wendy, you should remember her from Aunt Minnie’s ceremony.” Velma placed a hand on the woman sitting in the chair by herself.
Shandra nodded and smiled at her cousin.
“This is my sister, Clarice, and her daughter, Sky.” Velma motioned to the two larger women on one end of the couch.
Shandra nodded, smiled, and said, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And these two are,” Velma waved her hand at the other two younger, smaller women on the couch, “your cousins, Jackie and Sylvia.”
Shandra nodded, smiled, and said, “I’m pleased to finally meet my cousins when there is time to visit.”
Velma moved to the young men standing in the doorway. “These are Jo’s boys. Coop and Andy.”
“We’ve already met,” Shandra said, smiling.
The two eyed her suspiciously, then smiled.
“You have? When?” Velma asked.
“At the center,” Coop, the tallest said.
“Yeah, we were leaving when she arrived,” added Andy. He was a head shorter and stouter than his tall, thin brother.
“I hope you behaved yourselves,” Jo said, narrowing her eyes at her sons.
“They did,” Shandra said and received wide grins from the two.
Aunt Jo took hold of Shandra’s arm. “Come in and sit,” she said, pulling Shandra to the last stuffed chair. Jo sat in the folding chair next to Shandra.
All eyes were on her. Shandra smiled even though her first instinct was to flee. The churning in her stomach resembled her first day of grade school, before her mother started using Adam, her stepfather’s, last name when she registered Shandra for school.
Velma arrived with a cup of steaming hot coffee. “Nothing like a cup of coffee on a cold day like this,” she said, pulling up another folding chair on Shandra’s left.
“Thank you,” Shandra muttered before taking a sip. She wasn’t a coffee drinker but she wasn’t going to refuse something warm to hold in her hands.
“Josephine said you had some questions for us about Edward,” Velma said, leaning toward Shandra.
Velma didn’t move into conversations as slowly as Shandra remembered Ella and her friends had when Shandra had visited the summer she was thirteen.
“Y-yes.” Shandra scanned the eager faces. She directed her attention to the older women. The ones who were alive when her father followed the rodeos, became married, and died. “I ran into an old cowboy who rode the circuit with father. Since I don’t remember much about my father, I asked the cowboy questions.” She smiled. “This cowboy, Phil Seeton, had only good things to say about father.” Her heart filled with the memories of Daddy. His kindness. “How father always treated others with respect.” She frowned. “Even the ones who weren’t nice to him.” Phil had told her stories of how some of the Caucasian cowboys had harassed the Indians on the circuit.
“Your father was a good man. A good Nez Perce,” Velma said, nodding her head.
Clarice and Jo also nodded their heads.
“Is that why you’re here? To find your roots by starting with your father?” Velma asked.
“Yes, and no.” Shandra took a sip of coffee to stall for time to find the right words.
Everyone watched her. She didn’t want to tell everyone about her dreams and Ella coming to her in them. Velma and Wendy would understand the significance, but Jo had told her Clarice didn’t care for her sister’s belief in the seven drum religion.
“I am interested in my roots. But I’m more interested in justice.” She peered into Velma’s eyes. She knew! Shandra stared into the depths of the woman’s eyes and saw the same thing she witnessed in her dreams. The horses in a circle staring down at her father.
Velma nodded and took her hand. “I’ve been waiting for you to seek the truth.”
“What are you two talking about?” Aunt Jo asked, breaking the connection Shandra felt with Velma.
“Your brother didn’t die from an accident,” Velma stated, releasing Shandra’s hand and peering at Aunt Jo.
“What? No. It was ruled an accident.” Jo shook her head as if her head thought one thing and her heart another.
Clarice stood. “Did you bring this poor girl here to trample on her heart to prove your visions?”
“Velma didn’t bring me here. Talking to Mr. Seeton brought me here and has had me digging into the past trying to find the truth.” Shandra motioned with her hands for Clarice to sit. “Mr. Seeton believes my father didn’t have an accident. He said the horse father drew that day was an easy ride for him, that he shouldn’t have fallen off. And it was well known that same horse would stomp a man if he landed on the ground.”
Shandra faced her aunt. “Were you at the rodeo that day? Did you see it? Or do you know of someone that was there that I could talk to?” Now that her intentions were out in the open, she wasn’t leaving here until she’d talked with anyone who might know something.
Aunt Jo shook her head. “I wasn’t there. Your mother had asked me to watch you for the weekend.” She patted Shandra’s head. “We so rarely saw you even before your father’s death, I didn’t say no.”
Guilt gnawed at Shandra. The years since graduating high school, when she was legally free to do whatever she’d wanted, she’d stayed away from the side of her family who wanted her.
But she latched onto the conversation. “How often had mother left me with you during rodeos?”
“That was the first, and last, time.” Jo’s eyes held sadness. “We didn’t see you again until that summer you showed up without warning.” She smiled. “Your ella, was so happy you came. She talked about your visit for years afterward and wondered when you’d come back.”
The guilt slapped Shandra again. She took Jo’s hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t find my way sooner. I would have enjoyed learning more about my past from Ella.” She glanced at Velma. “And other family members.”
“You’re here now, that’s what counts,” Velma said. She waved her hand at Coop. “Bring me that pad and pen sitting on the kitchen counter.”
Coop disappeared then returned. In three steps, he stood beside Velma. “This one? Looks like you lost to Clarice again. Ays,” he said and received a swat from Velma.
“She cheats.” Velma glared at her sister.
“How can I cheat playing dominoes?” Clarice asked.
Velma humphed and took the pad and pen. “I’ll make a list of names of people who you should talk to.” She scribbled a few names, then stared at Jo. “Do you think she should talk with Charlie Frank?”
“Who is he?” Shandra asked. The name sounded a bit familiar, but she wasn’t sure why.
Aunt Jo scrunched her face. “He was a Colville who also did rodeo and always tried to make Edward look bad.”
“He once—” Velma said.
“Charlie hated—” Clarice said at the same time as Velma.
Shandra held up her hand. “One at a time, please.”
Velma nodded to her sister.
“Charlie hated Edward since first or second grade,” Clarice said. “Those two had a competition over everything they did. Whether it was first to sharpen a pencil or the fastest in a foot race.”
“Why did Charlie hate my father?�
�� Shandra asked.
“Jealousy,” said Clarice.
Aunt Jo nodded. “Your father had the gift of talking to the horse. Understanding them. He trained his first horse when he was ten. Charlie wanted to train horses to run races. But he didn’t have the touch. Or the patience. Edward caught Charlie forcing a horse to do something it wasn’t ready for. He stopped Charlie and told Charlie’s uncle, who owned the horse, and Charlie wasn’t allowed to touch his uncle’s racing stock again.”
“If Charlie wanted to train race horses why was he on the rodeo circuit?” Shandra was filing all the information away for later. She’d type it all up on her tablet when she retired for the night.
“He saw the rodeo circuit as a way to make money to buy his own racing stock,” Velma said.
“Was he that good?” Shandra hadn’t seen his name mentioned in any of the newspapers she’d read while following the story about her father’s death.
“No. He didn’t make money from the rodeos. Another thing that made him angry with your father. Edward placed high enough in rankings to pick up a check at every rodeo.”
The pride in Aunt Jo’s voice tugged at Shandra. Jo had loved her brother and was proud of him.
“Then how did he buy that ranch and all those race horses?” Coop asked, the first of the younger generation to join in the conversation.
“What ranch? Does he live on the reservation?” Shandra wanted to meet this man who disliked her father.
“He has a ranch up out of Omak,” Velma said. Her brows scrunched together. “It was about a month after Edward’s death that Charlie bought that land up there.”
“How did he get the money?” Shandra asked, her mind already clicking through the government agencies she would need to access to find out more about his ranch.
“You could see if my Bud knows,” Clarice said.
“Bud’s her husband. He’ll be here in an hour for dinner.” Velma stood. “I have some things to take care of before we can eat. Wendy would you keep Shandra company while Clarice, Jo, and I get the food ready?”