Heartbeat Braves

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Heartbeat Braves Page 2

by Pamela Sanderson


  Arnie had come home from college and gone straight to work in the Tribe’s economic development office. He’d worked his way up through different jobs and departments until he was elected to Council. He already had a busy travel schedule, and now he joined the board of directors at the urban Indian center. It was hard to reconcile this model of responsibility with the uncle who’d gotten in trouble for stealing from Grandpa’s beer fridge so many summers ago.

  Arnie chuckled in a condescending way. “I always wanted to work for the Tribe. I came home. I took the first job they would give me and went from there.”

  “And now I suppose you are endlessly happy and fulfilled, from all the gratifying work you do.”

  “That’s a stretch,” Arnie said. “I love what I do, but it’s a lot of travel. A lot of meetings.”

  “I hate meetings,” Henry said.

  “You’re going to hate camping out under a bridge too.” Arnie pointed, indicating Henry should turn. “There’s a decent burger place down by the city center.”

  It took Henry a minute to figure out what place he was referring to. “That businessman overpriced chain restaurant? That’s for people with a per diem who are too frightened to venture away from their hotel. I have a better idea.”

  “I admit I am one of those people although I wouldn’t say I was frightened. I’m not in the mood for anything weird,” Arnie said.

  “What’s weird?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not in the mood for Asian food that’s sweet and covered with peanuts.”

  “So no Thai?”

  “Not today. I want a burger.”

  The best way to keep Arnie happy was to feed him something good. Henry headed for one of his favorite spots.

  “Where is this place?” Arnie asked, as Henry drove down a busy street lined with shops and restaurants.

  “You gotta get away from the business district once in a while. This is a happening neighborhood with a lot going on. Parking is tight but I will introduce you to a burger that is the perfect balance of meat, condiment, and bun.”

  “You’ve been living in the city too long,” Arnie said, shaking his head.

  “You’ll see.” Henry slipped down a side street to park and led Arnie past a jammed bike rack to a dented screen door. Inside, there were a couple of narrow tables and bar seating along the walls. Every seat was jammed.

  “Where are we going to sit?” Arnie asked.

  “Trust me,” Henry said. They placed their order at the counter, and took a number to put on their table. They grabbed icy glasses of soda and went through a narrow hallway that led to a warehouse-like space lined with long tables and benches. There was an additional upper seating area that overlooked the main floor.

  “How did you find out about this place?” Arnie asked, once they’d sat down.

  “That is my thing right now,” Henry said. “I find out about places. They can take out the tables on that end and put in a small stage.” Henry pointed to the ceiling. “Lighting. Sound system. They have DJs or bands. I heard they were doing an open mic thing, and I’m trying to get a feel for the place.”

  “And what would you do here?”

  “I got a native rock band thing I’m trying to make happen.”

  “You’re joking,” Arnie said. “You want to be a musician?”

  “More like a manager. They’re my friends. I’m helping them. I don’t know what Mom tells you but I have some ambition.”

  “Ambition is wonderful, but getting a rock band thing to happen doesn’t sound like it will pay the bills. She wants you to have a job. She would love to see you working with Indian people.”

  “Doing what? I have zero qualifications for that kind of thing. Thanks for thinking of me.”

  “You don’t even know what they do. We’ll find a project that you’re suited for. Give it a try. That gal you were talking to, she can help you out. Wouldn’t you like to work with her?”

  “Rayanne?” The woman with the beautiful hair that he wanted to tangle his hands in? Yes, he wanted to hang out her again but for fun.

  “Yeah, Rayanne.” Arnie raised an eyebrow.

  Henry avoided his gaze and wished they had their food.

  “Linda said she’s smart, a fast learner, and super competent.”

  “Then why do you need me?”

  “They’re in over their heads there,” Arnie said. “Have you asked yourself why I would get involved with the center?”

  Henry shook his head.

  “The bulk of their funding comes from a group of local tribes including ours. But their successes are marginal and several of the tribes want to put that money elsewhere. The board of directors is considering closing the center. Linda is an old friend, and that place means a lot to her. I’m trying to preserve her opportunity, but she needs help. You’re smarter than you think. You can help too.”

  Henry had to admit, he liked the idea of spending time with Rayanne. A server brought over a tray and set down two massive bacon cheeseburgers and a pile of fries. Arnie lifted the bun and studied the meat patty covered with thick strips of bacon.

  “House-made applewood smoked bacon,” Henry said.

  “You know the name of the pig and its last meal, too?”

  “I guess you don’t want to hear about the bakery that does the buns.”

  Arnie shook his head. He put the sandwich back together and took a bite. When he was finished chewing he said, “You’re going to want to make a note of this because this is the closest you will ever come to hearing me say, you were right.”

  Henry had to finish his own mouthful. “I never doubted.”

  “What else is going on with you? Seeing anyone?” Arnie asked.

  “Not at the moment. You?”

  “I’ve got lots of friends,” Arnie said with a cartoony eyebrow waggle.

  When he was younger, Henry had overheard his mom and grandma talk about Arnie’s dating habits. They said he was good at finding girlfriends that were totally wrong for him but luckily he never stayed with them for long.

  “Some out here, some on the rez?”

  “We were talking about you,” Arnie said.

  “I don’t meet a lot of women. You go to college, you move back. It’s hard to rebuild your social life. At least it has been for me.” He’d almost added that he was broke but that was what started the conversation.

  Arnie tried to find a grip that would hold the burger together. “I’m worried about you, with your balanced buns and applesmoke. You sound like a big city boy.”

  “I am a big city boy,” Henry said. “A man. And I’m handling my life fine on my own.”

  “If you’re working at the center you might meet an Indian woman. Your mom would love that. They aren’t like regular women. They’re like—”

  “An Indian woman raised me,” Henry said. “I know what they’re like. They’re scary when they’re mad. And getting back to business, I am not your man for this job. For real, I am working on my own thing.”

  “How about this? I could use an eye on the inside, and you could use some money.” Arnie stuffed the last bites into his mouth and wiped his hands with what was left of his napkins. “That was good but I feel like I need a shower.” He grabbed some of Henry’s napkins. “You don’t have to do it forever. Try it for a couple weeks.”

  “Now I get to be a spy, too,” Henry said. Already he could see how this was going to go. No matter what happened, someone was going to be unhappy with him.

  “These opportunities don’t come up often. It will be good for you.”

  “Sounds like it would be good for you,” Henry said. “How much am I going to get paid?”

  “As it turns out, the secret of Indian riches is in nonprofits.” Arnie chuckled at his own joke. “It’s not. Kidding aside, it’s more than you’re making now. If you do it, I can avoid your mom’s wrath for failing to get you a job. Talk about scary when she’s mad.”

  Arnie confirmed what he’d expected, his mom put him up to it.r />
  “I’m not agreeing but I will show up and see what I think,” Henry said.

  “Close enough,” Arnie said. “You can help them plan their retreat. That’s screwed up too.”

  “What kind of retreat?”

  “Everyone gets together to do planning for the center for the next year.”

  “Sounds super boring,” Henry said, thinking at least he could see Rayanne again.

  3

  Rayanne glared until Linda said, “I’m not happy about it either.”

  “You’re letting that guy be a project manager?” Rayanne said, her voice cracking. This could not be happening. There had to be something she was missing.

  “That guy is Mr. Ear-twirler’s nephew,” Linda said. Ear-twirler was the nickname they gave Arnie after they met him. During the interview he couldn’t stop playing with his ear.

  “I know. I helped keep him occupied for the last hour,” Rayanne said, like it had been a terrible burden. “But I’ve been busting my ass around here for almost a year. Why not promote me and make him the assistant?”

  “Not my idea. Arnie was talking fast and making intimidating statements about the tribes giving up on us. No money, no center. The people with the funding have no confidence in us right now. Maybe the nephew is a well-connected organizational genius.”

  “I talked to him,” Rayanne said. “I feel confident when I say, he is not.”

  “Deal with it,” Linda said. “He’s Arnie’s family and he needs a job. That’s how Indian Country works. Arnie is trying to rescue us. He’s on our side but, unfortunately, we’re at the point where talking is not enough. We need some results. Do what he wants. Don’t complain.”

  Wasn’t this the story of her life? For every penny she put in, someone else got to take three pennies out. She came up with the idea, or wrote the grant, or did the presentation. Someone else got the credit or the project.

  “So this is settled. Henry works here. I turn everything over to him and help him. Does he get to run the arts festival, too?”

  Linda sagged into her desk chair. “Nothing is settled. I don’t see why we can’t keep that as your project. When we do the retreat we can nudge you out front. Show all the work you’ve done.”

  “Good. Because everything is pretty much planned. Can I finalize everything based on the current move-in date? I’m getting vendors and performers to commit but I’m worried about what we’re going to do if the deal is pushed back again.”

  Linda stared off into the distance, like she wished to be somewhere, anywhere, else than here. She turned her attention back to Rayanne. “I worry about that too. I’m counting on it. Keep doing what you’re doing. It’s your project. We’ll get Henry into transportation and finding funding. His uncle thinks he’s so great. Give him a chance to show us what he can do. If everything goes in the toilet and we have no UIC at all, at least we have another person to blame.”

  Rayanne tried to picture her life without the center. There were other tribal-related jobs in town but she wanted this one. She had so many plans to see through.

  “Couldn’t we talk to Margie?”

  Margie was the board chairperson before Arnie. She was a wonderful friend and ally. She was also eighty-two and after an illness, ordered to step down.

  “Do not bother Margie,” Linda said. “She’s frail and she will not be able to resist getting worked up if you talk to her. I’ll talk to Arnie and make sure he knows what you contribute. He doesn’t want to have the retreat here, so we need to magically come up with something. Any ideas?”

  “If I had ideas, this wouldn’t be a problem. I think that pizza place that looks like a castle has a meeting room.”

  Linda pretended to laugh. “Keep trying.”

  Rayanne had the same overwhelmed feeling she sometimes got in college when she was overbooked, and behind on studies, and then had to put in a work shift. It manifested as an electric knot twisting between her shoulder blades. She went through the stack on her desk, and set things into piles. Grants that needed to be completed were clipped together and put on the calendar. She grouped together contacts that she was hoping to develop. She had research to do, and data reporting that went on forever. Nothing could be accomplished in Indian Country without reporting on it. Sometimes she wanted to tally the time they spent hunched over paperwork against the time they were actively working on services.

  She came across Linda’s retreat sample agenda. Linda had tasked her with taking the first cut at coming up with the program for this year.

  Number one: Talk about all the hard work Rayanne does.

  That went on the implied list.

  The real list included all the money talk, and a time slot for each staff member. She also made notes about meal plans and what sort of written materials they would need. She wrote Margie’s name in the margin, willing the elder to be healthy enough to participate.

  Technically Margie was Linda’s mentor and Linda was Rayanne’s mentor, but Linda was overbooked and not a great role model at the moment. Rayanne had faith in Linda but until she got a grip on the situation at the center, Rayanne was helping her more than Linda was helping Rayanne.

  She was in the middle of a research project when Arnie and Henry returned to the center. Henry’s blustery confidence had been replaced with a phony humble manner. He gave her an apologetic half-smile. If he thought she was going to be a friendly face, he was mistaken.

  “You two could have a planning meeting right now,” Arnie said. There was a little something in his voice. Rayanne wasn’t sure if he was being practical, or being a jerk. She gave him a smile that showed teeth.

  “We’re running a center here. I can’t drop everything. We provide essential services.” She emphasized essential services but Arnie didn’t get the hint.

  “Tell her the good news,” Arnie said. He clapped Henry on the back like he’d made the winning touchdown.

  Good news from Arnie. That could only mean more work for her. What would it be now?

  “I’m going to help plan the retreat,” Henry said. The way he said it made it clear, it wasn’t his idea and he wasn’t pleased about it.

  Rayanne wasn’t pleased about it either. “I’ve got it under control, but thanks.”

  “Come now. Didn’t you miss a deadline? Maybe you should accept some help.” Arnie’s tone was good-natured but the remark stung. Linda was the one who missed the deadline. Rayanne had put the documents on her desk, ready to go. All Linda needed to do was sign, attach the payment, and put it in the mail. But she’d buried it under other paperwork and forgotten about it. She was the one who deserved scolding.

  But Rayanne couldn’t say that to Arnie.

  “Great,” Rayanne said with a fake smile. “Let’s meet.”

  “Good luck, you two,” Arnie said, like he was sending them off on vacation.

  “Didn’t you have some place to go?” Henry said, urging Arnie out.

  Arnie laughed and waved over his shoulder as he headed out the door.

  “That man is going to murder me by embarrassment,” Henry said. He offered a dazzling smile.

  Rayanne was having none of it. “I don’t have a lot of time. It’s a regular ol’ all-day retreat. These events are supposedly more productive if you have them offsite. Otherwise everyone is sneaking off to their office to check email. As Uncle Arnie so wonderfully pointed out, we screwed up and do not have a place. Are you connected on meeting spaces?”

  “How many people are we going to have?

  “Not many. Twelve to fifteen?”

  “Can you give me an idea what sort of site you need?”

  “Seriously? You have ideas of where we can meet?” Maybe he was some sort of secret organizational whiz.

  “Maybe. I have my own history of blundering everything up so let’s not get excited yet.”

  “Ideally, not a plain old meeting room. If we had a wealthy benefactor we would meet in their home. I booked the smaller meeting lodge at Warm Springs because they have a nice
room plus the outdoor stuff. Hiking trails and outside spaces we could use for meeting.”

  “I have an idea,” Henry said.

  “This retreat is coming up in a week. I doubt there’s a place that will be available at such short notice. No one expects you to come up with something.”

  “Give me one second.” He took a piece of paper and a pen and found a seat. It took more than a second, so Rayanne went back to work.

  Tommy came out waving his signed check from Linda. “How long is your friend going to be here?” he asked, referring to Henry.

  “That’s not my friend. That’s Henry. Arnie is his uncle. He works with us now.”

  Tommy nodded. “Cool. Is it okay if I take him with me to check out the bus?”

  “Be my guest,” Rayanne said. “I’m not his boss.”

  Henry finished his call. “I have a place that will give us a tour tomorrow afternoon. We can be there and back in a couple of hours.”

  “I can’t run off and leave my desk for a couple of hours,” Rayanne said.

  “We can do planning in the car. Don’t worry, I’ll clear it with Linda.” He flashed a smile that would no doubt clear it with Linda. To Tommy he said, “You going for that bus?”

  “You coming?”

  They headed out the door like they were best buddies forever.

  4

  The next day, all Henry had to do was mention he had a retreat site, and Linda waved them out the door.

  “Must be nice to so easily bend people to your will,” Rayanne said, as they headed to the parking lot.

  “Doesn’t happen that often,” Henry said.

  Rayanne climbed in the van and fastened her seatbelt. “How many people you fit in this thing?”

  “You’re the second person who’s asked me that in two days.”

  “Tommy?” She gifted him with a small smile. “His actual title is youth program coordinator but since he’s always trying to haul a bunch of kids off to play basketball or something, his second job has become transportation. I suppose he explained all that.”

 

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