American Dreams Trilogy

by Michael Phillips

  “Amazing!” exclaimed Richmond. He turned toward Brown, who was smiling broadly, at his side. “So there really is Cherokee gold!”

  Brown only nodded, still smiling, too full of emotion to find words by which to respond.

  “There must be fifteen or more boxes just like this one,” said Seth, “as well as a dozen or more leather bags filled with gold powder. There is a lot of gold. Some of the leather isn’t in very good shape, but the bags are still intact. And there are other things—containers of shells and flints and bone necklaces and stones—some of them look like jewelry but I only looked hurriedly. There are feathers, a few old leather vests and jackets, quite a few woven baskets and blankets that don’t appear to be in great condition, as well as ornaments and bracelets and necklaces. What should we do now?”

  Seth glanced back and forth between his father and Mr. Brown. Richmond looked toward their venerable friend.

  “Now that the young people have had their fun and made their discovery,” he said, “you must give us your instructions of what you want done. Do you…?”

  “Want to go inside myself?” said Brown, chuckling as he completed the sentence himself. “Only if you will join me! But speaking for myself, I do not think it would be possible to do now what I did with such ease thirty years ago. No, if you and your friends can remove everything with care, young Davidson,” he said to Seth, “I am happy to observe from here.”

  “You and the others must handle everything with extreme caution,” said Richmond.

  “Cherity is standing guard!” laughed Seth.

  “One of the first things we need to do,” said Richmond, “is get the gold down to the house—today. Word about this will spread—it always does. No matter what precautions we take to secrecy, word will get out. The very trees have ears! Once the gold is safe, you will want to go through the relics,” he said, turning again to Brown, “and pack them up and preserve them for transport back to Oklahoma.”

  “Most should still be packed in blankets and leather skins,” nodded Brown, “as it was brought to me from the South.”

  As he spoke, Brown’s expression became thoughtful and serious. “Although now that this long-awaited moment has finally come,” he said, “what ought to be the final disposition of these treasures of our people is a question I must consider with great care.”

  Eighty

  That same evening, after they had bathed and cleaned up from their exploration of the cave, Seth and Cherity walked out into the warm twilight spreading over Greenwood. A large full moon was just rising above the horizon. It was difficult to contain their enthusiasm over the events of the day.

  “How I wish my father could have been part of this!” said Cherity. “But then,” she added a little sadly, “perhaps it is better this way. He was not altogether at peace with his Cherokee roots because of how his parents were killed, and also his concern for me and my sisters.”

  Seth took Cherity’s hand as they went, feeling at the gold ring on her middle finger. “Your father’s ring is swimming around on your finger!” he laughed.

  “It is far too big for me,” smiled Cherity. “But I want to wear it for my father’s sake. I should probably hang it around my neck like Chigua does hers.”

  They walked for a minute or two in silence, enjoying the quiet evening, but both enjoying most of all simply being in the other’s presence.

  “It is still hard for me to understand why my father did not eventually tell me everything himself,” said Cherity at length.

  “Even after what Mr. Brown explained happened in Oklahoma?”

  “That man called Black Wolf would hardly have harmed me in Boston.”

  “But your father knew the danger was still real.”

  “I know.”

  “He did what he thought best. And…”

  Seth hesitated.

  “And what?”

  “There is one part of that last conversation I had with your father that I did not tell you,” said Seth.

  “About my Cherokee past?” asked Cherity.

  “No… about you and me. He also—,” began Seth, then hesitated again.

  “He, uh… had a favor to ask of me,” he added.

  “A… favor?”

  “I don’t know how this will sound to you, but… he asked me to promise to take care of you after he was gone—”

  A rush of warmth surged into Cherity face.

  “I have tried to do that,” Seth went on, fumbling for words, “but then the war came and I was gone and we were apart those three and a half years. But… I think it is now time, and with all this behind us… and Mr. Brown and everything sort of setting the past to rest… the time now seems right, and… I want to take care of you even more completely than I have up till now. What I am trying to say, Cherity, is that I love you. I don’t want us ever to be apart again.”

  Cherity sighed and leaned against Seth’s side as they walked. He slipped his hand out of hers and stretched his arm around her shoulders and they continued on into the dusk.

  From inside the house, Carolyn stood watching as her son and the young woman she loved as her own walked away from the house.

  She heard Richmond approach behind her. They stood in silence a moment.

  “Well, wife,” he said in a playful tone, “what is that brain of yours pondering?”

  “I am wondering if we are soon to have two new daughters, one black and one half Cherokee.”

  “Do you know something about Thomas and Deanna that I don’t?” smiled Richmond.

  “Only that I have seen a look on his face when letters come from her that is unmistakable. You must have seen the love in her eyes when she was here. She was obviously devoted to him. And I think the feeling is mutual. Cherity insists Thomas is in love with Deanna too.”

  “You and Cherity talk about whether Thomas and Deanna are in love with each other!” laughed Richmond.

  “Richmond, surely you know that women always talk about such things!”

  “Then do you also talk about whether Seth and Cherity are in love?”

  Carolyn smiled. “Cherity is quieter and more reserved about her feelings toward Seth. But of course they are in love. Everyone knows it, the two of them most of all. They are just waiting for the right time. Now that the war is over and Mr. Brown has come back and all the mysteries of the past are laid to rest, I have the feeling that time may not be too far away.”

  “We are indeed blessed that our sons have both chosen so wisely.”

  “Cherity and Deanna are remarkable young women. I have come to love Cherity as a daughter. I think in time we will feel the same way about Deanna. I could not imagine our good fortune to have Aaron and Zaphorah’s daughter actually in our family, if it indeed comes to that. What a dream come true!”

  “I still say we may be getting a little ahead of ourselves!” laughed Richmond again.

  “Didn’t you say Thomas was planning another trip to Mount Holly next week?”

  “I think so.”

  “And Seth said something about Thomas visiting the jeweler the last time they were in town. Seth just laughed about it, but I have my suspicions!”

  Eighty-One

  With the gold and other relics retrieved from their crypt and safely in storage at Greenwood, and after Richmond’s tense encounter with Denton Beaumont, both Richmond and Brown now considered any potential danger from that quarter minimal. Supplied with every necessity by Carolyn, and brought more food than one man could possibly consume once or twice a day by the loving ministrations of Carolyn, Cherity, and Chigua, Brown, therefore, removed himself again to his former abode. There, he said, it was time for him to complete and bring to a close what had been a happy chapter in his long life.

  Everyone at Greenwood urged him to remain with them indefinitely, for the rest of his life if it were possible. Here, the women especially felt, he might be cared for and loved through his old age and beyond.

  But in their hearts of hearts, they all realized that his
present tarrying in Virginia was destined like his last to be but a temporary season in the ever-changing life of the Cherokee Wise Man, for whom no earthly place would ever quite fully be home. He was a sojourner of the Ani-Yunwiya… a people of ever-changing paths and byways under an unchanging sky.

  Brown remained with them through the summer. Occasionally they saw him daily, occasionally a week would pass without contact. He helped with the harvest and the animals, borrowed horses for long rides into the hills, and he and Richmond continued to have lengthy talks about many things. But as the morning air began to take on a crisper chill, and as a few yellowing leaves began to fall on flurries that portended stronger gusts to follow, Richmond saw that a change was coming. He knew he would not be with them much longer.

  A day came when Brown appeared at Greenwood bearing an envelope containing a single sheet. He left it at the door with Moses without word or explanation. It was an invitation, for the next day, to a traditional Cherokee meal at his former home. It was addressed to Richmond and Carolyn, Seth and Cherity, Thomas, and Sydney and Chigua. The moment they saw it, all knew this was his way of saying good-bye.

  They entered the house the following evening in a spirit of solemn expectation tinged with sad expectation of what was to follow. The simple meal was set out on cloth mats on the floor. There were no chairs. Attired again in the full regalia of his ancestors, with the white feather prominent, Brown greeted each of his guests with a kiss on the cheek, then bade them sit on the floor in a circle.

  “I came among you,” he said as they slowly ate, “not knowing what I would find. My chief mission was to retrieve those things I had hidden many years before. Yet as I came, on my mind also was the future, and what should be done with them for the good of our people. The events which drove me from the Indian Territory spoke of evil times which are not yet resolved. As I journeyed, therefore, my heart was torn. It has remained torn for the conflicts among us which refuse to die.

  “When I arrived here I discovered, if possible, new friends that mean as much, if not more, than the friends of past generations I left behind.”

  He gazed slowly around the circle, allowing his eyes to linger upon each one in his or her turn. To both Cherity and Chigua he gave a smile of such love that melted both their hearts and brought tears flowing from their eyes.

  “And thus, while here among you,” he went on, “and because of the continuing heritage of the Cherokee that I know will live on here after I am gone, I have at last reached my decision. With that decision, I am at peace and can now return to my people, where it is my destiny not long hence to be gathered to my fathers.”

  At the words, a stifled cry sounded from Cherity. She looked away and did her best to stop the tears, which had become a flood, with her handkerchief.

  “My decision is this,” Brown went on after a brief pause. “The gold is to remain here.”

  “But surely… it belongs to your people,” said Seth.

  “What you say is true, young Davidson,” rejoined Brown. “But it would only divide our nation further. Even to attempt to do good with it, as I always intended, would result in greed and conflict and lead to further bloodshed. Though it breaks my heart to say it, we are not a nation yet ready for unity. It would be unsafe to take it back, even now. This is perhaps more than anything the answer you put to me earlier, why I did not return for it before now. The time was not right.”

  Brown gazed deep into the eyes of each of the seven.

  “It is no accident that you are all now here,” he said softly, almost reverently. “Fate and the higher powers of Providence have brought us together at this moment and ordained that we should meet. As there were once seven rings, there are now seven of you, which I believe has been guided by forces higher than any of us. Whether it be the Christian God of the white man or the Great Spirit of the Indian, it was He who guided our steps to this moment.”

  Again he turned one at a time to Cherity and then to Chigua.

  “You two young ladies bear two of the rings and represent two of Attacullaculla’s four lines, the Canoe line and the Kingfisher line of the Ghigua. To you history has entrusted what I stored away long ago for our people. Therefore, I desire for you, and these witnesses who are with you, to use it in whatever ways you determine that will benefit the legacy of the Cherokee nation.”

  Cherity and Chigua sat silently pondering his words.

  “This, therefore, is my decree,” Brown went on. “All the relics will be returned to the tribe. We will together determine how to transport them and I will have to take steps to ensure their preservation. As for the gold… both of you young ladies were separated from your families and your Indian heritage. Yet Providence has shone its light upon you favorably and has protected you in the midst of much adversity. I believe you were both chosen to inherit the rings of your forebears. And… perhaps you were also chosen to step into the destiny of your people in other ways as well.

  “Therefore, half of the gold that I put away is to be split equally between you three families—the Waters, the family of Eaglefeather, and also the Davidsons, for to you the Cherokee owe a great debt. You will split this half between the three families. It is yours to use. The remaining half I entrust to you seven together on behalf of the Cherokee nation, to purchase land for our people—either in the Indian Territory or in the East where a few settlers remain. Wherever you are best able to do good for our people, use this legacy I bestow upon you to do that good.”

  None of the seven had words suitable to reply. The voice of Long Canoe had spoken. They knew they could only receive his words with quiet gratitude, and then faithfully obey.

  Eighty-Two

  Brown left Virginia four days later. This time he would not return.

  The parting on the Dove’s Landing platform was tearful. He and Richmond held one another’s gaze for long silent seconds of mutual respect and affection.

  “The land and the house are yours,” said Brown at length, “as I arranged with your father. I shall not set foot upon or within them again. You were faithful in awaiting my return, but that debt is now fully discharged. Do with both as you will.”

  Brown then embraced Carolyn, shook Thomas’s and Sydney’s hands, then turned to Seth and Cherity where they stood.

  “Young Davidson,” he said, “care for this treasure of yours.”

  Seth nodded.

  “To you and her is entrusted much. You must protect yourselves that you may carry out that trust. May God go with you.”

  He looked at Seth, took two steps forward and clasped him by both arms, then added a few words that none of the others heard.

  Brown then turned to Chigua and took her two hands in his.

  “Granddaughter of Eaglefeather,” he said, “may the spirit of our people be your constant companion, guide, and strength. Wear the ring proudly, and pass on to your children the story of our people, and the legacy of peace that accompanies the ring.”

  Chigua smiled, wiping at her eyes as she stepped back.

  Finally Brown turned toward Cherity and smiled, a deep, sad, tender smile that was full of love.

  “And you, daughter of Swift Horse—”

  Cherity burst into tears and rushed forward to embrace the old man whom in a short time she had grown to love. Gently he stretched his long arms around her and held her close for several long silent seconds. Tenderly he stroked her hair and whispered his blessing into her ear, as Cherity quietly wept against his chest.

  At last she stood back and drew in a deep breath, her eyes swimming but a smile on her face.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for taking care of my father… Thank you for everything.”

  The sound of the train whistle interrupted them.

  “I must be away, my child,” said Brown, his voice husky with suppressed Indian emotion.

  “Thank you… again,” said Cherity.

  “Carry your father’s legacy proudly, daughter of Swift Horse.”

  “I will, U
ncle Long Canoe… I promise. I will never forget you.”

  Richmond now stepped forward and walked with Brown, dressed for the journey not unlike any aging tan-faced farmer of Virginia, the final few steps to the waiting train door. Brown took one last glance around, then stepped up and inside.

  With a final wave a minute later, and with tears spilling from Cherity’s and Carolyn’s and Chigua’s eyes, they followed the train out of the station until it was out of sight.

  As they rode in silence back to Greenwood Cherity realized that her entire sense of being had been altered in the two months her great-uncle had been with them. So much was now clear. Her spirit was quiet as she tried to absorb the change. Feelings she had had since childhood but had never been able to identify now made sense.

  The greatest change of all was getting accustomed to two new names. She was now Cherokee Michel Waters Brown.

  After his arrival back in the Cherokee Territory of Oklahoma, Long Canoe Brown entered upon a period of deep reflection.

  Now that he had passed on his legacy to worthy descendents, he knew that his days among his people were slowly drawing to an end. The time when he would be gathered to his fathers was approaching like a slow dusk settling down upon his earthly life.

  He had concluded a portion of his duty. It now remained for him to pass on the other four rings in his possession. He was old and getting older. As the great chief Attacullaculla and the Ghigua before him, he must now seek worthy young Cherokee who valued and honored the old ways.

  He took to long walks and traveling throughout the territory, thinking, watching, listening, and especially speaking with many young people about the old times, as well as about the future of the Cherokee people. He met with John Ross when he returned west and continued to exercise what influence he possessed to work toward a reconciliation between the chief and Stand Watie, his longtime friend.

  When he was laid to rest three years later, his own and the other three rings were in the hands of four young Cherokee, three men and one woman, to whom he had entrusted their legacy.