Circle of the Ancestors

by Susan Gabriel

  “Should I still wear my cap?” Sam asks, looking in the mirror in Jake’s office. His cap and feather don’t go with his new coat, but neither does his best pair of jeans.

  “Of course,” Jake says. “I can’t imagine you without it.”

  Shortly afterward, they leave for the ruby’s glory day. Sam follows Jake down the corridor to the gemstone exhibits, admiring the inner and outer pockets of his new coat, which he decides could hold several rubies.

  A large crowd gathers at the doors to the gemstone exhibits. Men in dark suits and sunglasses check inside purses, backpacks and briefcases with hand-held metal detectors. Do they always take such extreme precautions for the unveiling of a ruby?

  Jake waves at a security guard behind a large velvet rope, and the guard lets them through. Dozens of people stand in line to get in. Sam glimpses the exhibits as they walk past planning to take a closer look when the unveiling ends, especially the tiger’s eye he studied in the National Geographic.

  At a corded off area, Jake unhooks the rope for Sam to enter and a burst of applause spreads through the room. Looking around to see who they are clapping for, Sam is surprised to see everyone looking at him.

  “Why are they clapping for me?” Sam whispers to Jake.

  “An article appeared in the Washington Post this morning about you and your donation of the ruby,” Jake answers. “It’s big news.”

  Sam’s face feels on fire. To be a celebrity in a small town like Rachel’s Pass is one thing, but here?

  Jake then leads Sam to a display case as tall as Sam covered with a dark red cloth. “Is that the ruby?” Sam asks. If it is, Sam will be eye-to-eye with the stone for the first time since it left Rachel’s Pass.

  Jake nods and smiles. “Just wait until you see it. I think you’ll be pleased,” he says.

  That ruby has made quite a journey—from the dirt-covered roots of a tree, to the grubby hands of Tink Watson, and finally to a beautiful museum in the nation’s capital. A journey similar, in many respects, to the one Sam has made.

  Meanwhile, the ceremony takes forever to begin. Sam jiggles the quarters in his jean pocket Buddy gave him in case he needed to get snacks. Then Sam remembers Rocky telling Sam he was proud of him. Had he just imagined that? He will have to see how Rocky acts when Sam gets back home.

  A young girl stands next to Sam who reminds him of Allie. He wants to bring her to Washington D. C. someday, to see Grandmother’s basket and now the ruby. Maybe he will even bring Beth.

  A flurry of activity erupts in the back of the room and everyone, including Sam, turns to look. A man in a loud, booming voice announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.”

  Applause fills the room, even louder than before. Did he really say President? The woman he has seen only on the news comes closer. Sam shakes his head to shake away the image in case he is dreaming. But if anything, the image becomes clearer. The President of the United States walks straight toward Sam, the crowd parting as she approaches, followed by several men in dark suits. Sam takes off his cap and puts it under his arm, the hawk feather sticking out behind.

  The President extends her hand. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

  Sam, shaking visibly, takes her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too, ma’am,” Sam says. He is close enough to see the wrinkles under the President’s eyes. Maybe she stayed up too late the night before.

  “Thank you for giving the star ruby to the museum,” the President says. “Your country is grateful.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am,” Sam says.

  The President shakes Jake’s hand, too. “Nice to see you again, Jake,” she says.

  “The pleasure’s really all mine, Madam President,” Jake says. “Thank you for taking the time.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it,” the President says.

  At that moment, Sam’s life looks like somebody else’s. Things like this don't happen to him. But here he is standing two feet away from the most powerful woman in the world. He is honored to represent his people and his tribe. He hopes his ancestors are proud of him, too, especially Grandmother, but of course he will never know.

  The President raises her hand to quiet the crowd. “This is a great country, and this young man is proof of that fact,” the President begins.

  The crowd applauds and the President puts her arm around Sam. Several cameras flash at once. The President continues to talk about the ruby, bringing in other things she believes and other things the American people should support, all the time holding onto Sam.

  Sweat trickles down Sam’s back and the deodorant Jake loaned him that morning releases its scent under the pressure. A television camera records the event as the President talks about America’s youth, using Sam as a perfect example of why America doesn’t have to worry about them. A man, standing next to the president, is all smiles, too. He hands an envelope to the President who presents Sam with a check representing all the donations collected for Sam to go to any college he wants. Dazed, Sam thanks the man and holds onto the envelope, unsure what he is supposed to do next. If only Grandmother were here to see this. She had made him promise that he would go to college.

  Before Sam has time to shake off the shock, Jake takes the microphone and tells everyone the story of how Sam found the ruby, remembering every detail Sam told him. Then Jake steps aside and the President steps up to the new display case. In a grand gesture, the president releases the cloth to reveal the ruby underneath.

  A loaded silence precedes a loud “ahh” from the audience, followed by prolonged enthusiastic applause.

  Sam applauds, too. The ruby has totally transformed from the rock Sam found stuck in the roots of that old tree. Now, nothing stands in the way of its beauty. Every rough edge is cut and polished away, revealing the sparkling ruby once hiding inside. The ruby glistens like a sacred fire under the special lighting. One light directed into the center of the ruby, illuminates the star. Its beauty is intense and the platform Jake designed compliments the ruby perfectly. Made of oak and river rock, it evokes images of the ruby’s original home. A small metal plate below the cabinet names Sam as benefactor and member of the Cherokee tribe.

  The crowd admires the ruby, one of those admirers being the President of the United States. For some reason, still unclear to him, Sam was chosen to deliver the ruby to its new home. The ruby is now out in the open, where a thing of such beauty and nobility belongs. Sam stands tall, like he’s just skipped the best rock of his life, all the way to Washington, D.C. He doesn’t need Rocky to tell him he has done a good job. He doesn’t even need his ancestors to tell him. Sam feels it from deep inside like his chest has become the heart of the ruby.

  The President shakes Sam’s hand again. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I have another meeting to go to up on the hill,” the President says.

  For a second, Sam wonders if the President is a mountain climber, before he remembers “the hill” is what people call the Capitol Building.

  As the president leaves, the applause rises again and then dies down, before the audience begins to disperse. Many come forward to get a better look at the ruby before leaving. Sam and Jake stand together, admiring the stone as they did the first day they met.

  “So how did you like my surprise?” Jake asks Sam.

  “You mean the President coming? It was amazing.”

  Jake looks pleased. “Sam, this is only the beginning,” Jake says. “You’re on the road to doing great things with your life. And when you get older, I’d like to offer you an apprenticeship here at the Smithsonian doing anything you’d like.”

  Sam hears Jake’s words but doesn’t respond. Something else captures his attention, something totally unexpected. Sam stands perfectly still, his eyes transfixed on the reflections in the glass around the stone. Jake’s faint image reflects back to him, as well as his own. Yet as Sam looks more closely, other images seem to form all around him. The longer he studies the reflection in the glass, the clearer it becomes.
Tears rush to his eyes. But they are happy tears. Sam’s ancestors have attended the ceremony. They create a sacred circle around Sam with proud looks on their faces as if his initiation is complete. In the center, Sam’s grandmother stands right next to Sam and on her shoulder sits the red-tailed hawk.

  Thank you for reading!

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed Circle of the Ancestors. I want you to know that I really loved writing this story. I especially loved the characters Sam and his grandmother. I have actually missed spending time with them now that they have journeyed out into the world.

  As an author, I rely on your feedback to complete the circle as the story travels from writer to reader and then back again. To be honest, you’re the reason I write. So tell me what you liked, what you loved, even what you wish I’d done differently. You can also let me know if you want more stories like this one. I’d love to hear from you!

  You can write me at susan@susangabriel.com or visit my website at: https://www.susangabriel.com.

  Finally, I need to ask a favor.

  If you’re so inclined, I’d love a review of Circle of the Ancestors. Whether you loved it or not, I’d appreciate your feedback. Reviews can be tough to come by these days, and you, the reader, have the power to champion a book or ignore it. Whether you bought this book at Amazon, Nook, Google Books, iTunes, Kobo or elsewhere, you can review it there.

  If you want, you can tell potential readers what you liked most about the book, what interested or surprised you, or whatever you feel like writing. It doesn’t have to be long.

  Thanks so much for reading Circle of the Ancestors and for spending time with me.

  In gratitude,

  Susan Gabriel

  P.S. You can see all of my books, along with excerpts, videos, etc. at my Amazon author page here: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002BLYGTW or at my website https://www.susangabriel.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Susan Gabriel is an acclaimed writer who lives in the mountains of North Carolina.

  Her novel, The Secret Sense of Wildflower, earned a starred review (“for books of remarkable merit”) from Kirkus Reviews: “A quietly powerful story, at times harrowing but ultimately a joy to read.” It was also voted one of Kirkus Reviews' Best Books of 2012.

  She is also the author of the novel Seeking Sara Summers which has garnered international attention since its publication in 2008.

  Her nonfiction book, Fearless Writing for Women: Extreme Encouragement and Writing Inspiration, gives writers inspiration, writing tips and encouragement to get going again and keep going on the book they hope to write.

  Readers will also enjoy Quentin and the Cave Boy, a humorous adventure story about an average 13-year-old boy with an anything-but-average problem: the cave boy he dreamed about last night has shown up, alive and smelly, in his bedroom. The way he deals with the greatest adventure of his life will have readers of all ages laughing out loud.

  Discover more about Susan at susangabriel.com.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  It has been fifteen years since I wrote the first draft of this book. It seems I have always been coming back around to it, while also writing other things. Like Sam, this novel lost its way for a while, but then eventually found its way home with additional treasure. I thank my early readers who offered encouragement, as well as feedback. In particular, Lisa Bojany Buccieri was a believer in the piece early on. I also remain grateful for my intuitive, resilient children’s book agent, Deborah Warren at East/West Literary Agency.

  More recently, I thank Eston Roberts and Richard Schram for their careful read and wonderful suggestions. I am also grateful for the encouragement of my writers’ group headed by writer Nancy Purcell, who read early chapters and offered feedback. I also thank Terry Nickelson who told me about Cherokee marker trees.

  Encouragement is as valuable as star rubies to a writer, and I am grateful for all the support I’ve received over the years from family, friends and wise teachers. Anne Alexander has gone above and beyond with editing, technical and marketing support, and she believed in me when others began to doubt. Lastly, I thank the Cherokee people. I hold them with great respect, and I hope I have honored their ancestors.

  INTERVIEW WITH THE AUTHOR

  How did you end up becoming a writer?

  At this point, I’ve been writing fiction for over 18 years. I started out as a professional musician and then became a teacher for at-risk kids, before getting my masters in counseling. I was a licensed psychotherapist in private practice for ten years. I did good work, but one day I had what I call a moment of certainty, when I realized that if I didn’t follow what was deep in my heart and pursue writing, I would die with regrets.

  When I began to write, I started out writing children’s books (ages 10 and up). I think I started with juvenile fiction because writing a novel for adults seemed much more daunting. But that was a good process for me because I learned what engages readers of all ages: a really good story.

  Tell us about this book.

  Circle of the Ancestors is one of those books that both adults and children enjoy. Reading is not about categories and labels, it’s about what kind of story touches you. Sam’s story is about trying to honor his ancestors when it seems the entire culture doesn’t. He wants to not be like his parents. He wants his life to mean something, to have a purpose. Like the hero’s journey in ancient myth, he starts out on a quest without even knowing what he is searching for and through trials and trouble, he becomes a different person. He transforms his personal story, his life.

  What inspired you to write this book?

  After I moved from Charleston, SC to Asheville, NC, I was working at a print shop at one of those odd jobs writers do so they can pay the bills and also have time to write. One day a customer came in and was talking to another clerk and I overheard him tell the story of someone who had found a star ruby up in the Blue Ridge Mountains and at the exact moment that he found it a red-tailed hawk cawed overhead. He said it was a good omen. I thought this idea was fascinating. It was the spark that got me going on Circle of the Ancestors, which was originally titled Red Hawk. He also said that the owner of the land was suing the person who found the ruby saying it was his. This also intrigued me because whenever there is something of great value at stake, people often get greedy. I guess you could say it was a good omen that I overheard that story.

  Which character was the most enjoyable to write?

  Sam was wonderful, of course. I love Sam. He’s like all of us who struggle to do the right thing. He’s a redeemed hero. His life could have gone in a totally different direction, like his father, Rocky. Sam wasn’t such a nice person before he went to live with his grandmother. I have to say, however, that it was Sam’s grandmother that I enjoyed writing the most. The wise old woman archetype shows up in a lot of my work. In some ways, I feel like I am becoming her. In my novel, The Secret Sense of Wildflower, it was the Aunt Sadie character. In the novel I’m working on now, Temple Secrets, it is the Old Sally character. I don’t think we have enough role models for wisdom in our culture and I am trying to leave some behind in my novels.

  Is there a particular message in your book that you want readers to grasp?

  I realized just recently, after I listed all the books I’ve written—eight total—that almost all of them were stories of courage and transformation. Like Circle of the Ancestors, these are all stories about people who persevere in spite of difficult things happening to them—people who end up learning something from the experience, usually about themselves, that will help them in the future. All my main characters (female and male) are on some kind of hero’s journey. They’re flawed, as we all are, but they are seeking better lives. I also have a thing for secrets. Every novel I’ve written has some kind of secret in it that is revealed before the book is over. For Sam, it was the fact that he had this valuable gemstone. Do I have secrets I keep myself? You bet. I think all of us do.

  Do you have a specific writ
ing style?

  I’m a very intuitive writer and follow a creative process that is my own. I don’t follow outlines or follow the paths of other writers. It’s hard to pin me down in terms of genre. Mostly, I write literary fiction. I suppose Circle of the Ancestors would fall under that category, too. Have I mentioned I’m hard to categorize?

  My book, The Secret Sense of Wildflower is considered southern gothic fiction. I grew up in the South and I swore I would never ever write southern fiction. I had enough crazy characters in my gene pool that I didn’t want to spend any time there. But after living in Colorado for three years, I realized I was more Southern than I realized and I felt a renewed bond with my homeland. To me, the thing that makes southern fiction “southern,” is not only that the characters are down to earth and sometimes bigger than life, but also that the land plays a big part in the stories. The landscape is often its own character and plays a central role.

  Circle of the Ancestors takes place on the Cherokee reservation in Western North Carolina, which is an hour and a half from where I live on the other side of Pisgah National Forest. I know the landscape that Sam’s story is set in. I also did research at the Cherokee Museum and at the casino (I lost $20 and that’s all I was willing to lose!) It is a fictional story set in a real place, although I made up the downtown area and Raven’s store and the trail. It all came out of my imagination. It was my hope and desire from the beginning to honor the Cherokee people. If I have failed at this desire, or perhaps gotten a few things wrong, I apologize.