Heartbeat Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  Arnie put his phone in quiet mode and held it up. “Did you turn your phone off?”

  Linda pretended to think for a moment, and then pulled it out of her pocket and fiddled with it before putting it away again.

  “What if there’s an emergency?” she said. “Oh, yeah, this entire thing is an emergency. What’s the bad news?”

  “Why do you think there’s bad new?” Arnie said.

  Linda laughed. “I figured you brought me out here so the staff won’t hear my bitter cries of grief.”

  “It’s not like they haven’t heard that sound before,” Arnie said, smiling at her sideways.

  “True. But they haven’t heard my ‘all is lost’ bellowing wails.”

  “And they won’t. Yet. I came out here so we wouldn’t get interrupted,” Arnie said. A gentle breeze came up through the trees and blew her hair around her face. She pulled it around one shoulder and braided it and stuck the end into her blouse. He got a glimpse of collarbone and bra strap. He was surprised to find a twinge of something for this woman he’d been friends with for so long.

  “What are we going to be doing?” she said, winking at him. “Plotting? Will we be fighting individuals or institutions?”

  He’d never seen her this playful. She was always so serious. Arnie let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Business. They were there for business.

  “I’m afraid I’m not confident—”

  “We have got to stick together on this,” Linda said.

  “We are stuck together but we’ve got more than me,” Arnie said. “You’ve got an entire executive board and no one is more surprised than I am about their reaction to this. They think it’s time to quit.”

  A group of teenaged runners headed toward them, filling the path. Without thinking, Arnie put his hand on Linda’s waist to guide her out of their way. He left it there until the group passed and the two of them continued on their way.

  He continued. “Back when Margie was in charge, the center agreed to an ultimatum. And here we are. No building. Is there an arts festival without a building? You built something but it didn’t grow.”

  Linda sighed. “They want us to shut down. That’s final?”

  “I don’t know what choice you have. You’re not going to have any funding.”

  Linda wandered off the trail. There was a bench that overlooked the river. Arnie joined her. The smooth gray-green water stretched out before them. Across the water there was a cluster of high-end homes with boat docks.

  “Remember when they used to have a powwow at this park?” Linda asked.

  Arnie shook his head.

  “They had it when I first moved here after college. You could camp out here. There would be tents, and teepees, and Indian people from all over this area. I’m often uncomfortable in big groups of people, but when I was here I never felt nervous or out of place.”

  “How come they don’t do it anymore?”

  “The park turned to day-use only. I guess they couldn’t find another site. Familiar theme, eh? When you’re around town doing your thing, you forget how many of us are here. It was reassuring to have a place to see everyone.”

  “I get it,” Arnie said. “Believe me, I understand what you want to see built. I think you’re the one to do it, but I’m just one guy.”

  “If anyone can do it, you could change their minds. People who work in Indian Country know it’s not easy. One more year. Can you get me enough for one more year?”

  Arnie didn’t want to make any promises. He’d come here to talk her into closing down. Here she was talking him into sticking with the fight. He’d had mixed success getting people with purse strings to change their minds.

  “I thought that’s what the last year was,” he said, not unkindly.

  “It was,” Linda agreed. “I’ll plan for the worst. Ester is so sharp, I think I can get her into one of the tribal health organizations in the region. Maybe we can hand over Tommy’s program to one of the local schools.” She sighed again. “Rayanne’s capable of anything. I’m not worried about her.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m not worried about me, either,” Linda said. “I heard that the city college is talking about a diversity program. I bet I could talk my way into that. That’s not where my heart is but anything to raise the profile of red people.”

  “No thoughts of going back home?”

  “Not enough for me there. I miss my family and I miss the mountains, but I like the opportunities here better.”

  Arnie wanted to think there was something behind the look she was giving him.

  “What are we going to do with Henry?” she said. “I figure he’s stuck around because he’s got a thing for Rayanne, but I know your mission was to get him a job.”

  “Henry is the least of your problems. His mom has been wanting him to live on the rez. He got kicked out of his apartment so this is the perfect time. My brother back home has a room for him. I can get him a job out there.”

  “He’s lucky to have family to fall back on,” Linda said.

  They took their time walking back to the parking area. Linda had a lot to do but she was enjoying Arnie’s company and hated to see him go. He wasn’t in a suit today. Instead, he was wearing what most people referred to as business casual. She called it golf clothes. The polo shirt had the logo from his tribe’s resort.

  “It’s been fun working together again,” she said.

  Arnie looked surprised. He held her eyes a half-second too long. Was he thinking about kissing her? Of course he wasn’t. Arnie may have grown up on the rez but he’d spent every minute of college chasing after the opposite of Indian women. She remembered one time he showed up at a party with a slender blonde who was way out of his league. She’d overheard him fast-talking about rez life, overselling it like you could to people who knew nothing about Indian people beyond what they’d seen on TV. He was still overbearing at times, but there was an appealing earnestness about him.

  She put her hand in her pocket. “Permission to check my phone?”

  Arnie laughed and shook his head. “As if you need my permission to do anything.”

  Linda nodded in agreement. She checked the time.

  “I need to get back and mind what’s left of my tiny empire.” She gave it one last try. “Can you try for one more year? I don’t think we’re done yet.”

  Whatever moment had passed between them was gone. Arnie held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I hate not being able to come through.”

  “I know you do,” Linda said. “I don’t hold you personally responsible.”

  On the drive back to the office she thought about how to tell Margie. When they’d been working together, much as she loved Margie, there was always the sense that the elder was part of what was holding them back. Her thinking was old-school and simplistic. She didn’t like risk. She never grasped what technology could do for them. She mistrusted some institutions that could be allies.

  Linda didn’t blame her. Margie had come up in a different time. When she had started out, Tribes had less opportunity for self-determination. It was a challenge to find a federal official who would listen. It was harder to assert tribal rights that still existed.

  Margie was a great leader and wonderful role model but it had taken so long to get her to let go. Linda felt bad even articulating these thoughts. Margie would be heartbroken to see the organization she’d built from nothing disappear. She hoped she wouldn’t have to give her that news.

  Instead, she wanted to talk to her about the Chief deal. Margie had been there at the origins of the deal but how had it come about?

  Linda changed direction and headed for Margie’s.

  “Hey, stranger,” Margie said when she opened the door. “More bad news?”

  “I hope not,” Linda said. “Help me remember how we started the Chief building acquisition.”

  Margie moved to let her in. The TV was on but the screen flickered blank blue. There were three remot
es on the table next to her chair.

  “You need help with your TV?” Linda asked. She tried pressing buttons on each remote.

  “Ester had it all set up for me but I did something wrong. I need her to come back.”

  “I’ll let her know,” Linda said. “So, the building. Who did you talk to first?”

  Margie sat down. To Linda’s relief, her voice was stronger and she moved more easily. Linda wished she had more time to spend with her.

  “Paul Douglas. He was the facilities manager. He grew up in Tahlequah and knew something about Indian people. He said the city would like to work with us on the transfer.”

  “So we had their support and then we lost it. Someone withdrew support,” Linda said.

  “Can’t get that pie back from the bear now,” Margie said.

  “I want to know what happened. I want to know why we got this close and then it all fell apart. It’s not like we went to them with our hat in our hands.”

  Margie shook her head. “I don’t know if it’s worth trying to find out. Sounds like a lot of aggravation to me.”

  “Well, turns out I like aggravation,” Linda said.

  40

  Henry almost picked up flowers but Mom would know he was sucking up. It was true but he didn’t want to be obvious about it. He picked up a brownie mix instead.

  Arnie was already there. They sat at the kitchen table together, drinking a beer. The house smelled like baked ham and Mom’s best side dish, cheesy potatoes. It was funny to think of them as brother and sister sometimes because Arnie was so much younger. Mom liked to tell that when Arnie was a baby she often got stuck at home, taking care of him. She said that contributed to her getting knocked up so young. Her teenaged brain figured if she was going to be stuck taking care of a kid, she could be doing it with her own kid and live with her boyfriend. She was too young to know any better and being stuck at home with Henry and his loser dad ended up being worse than taking care of Arnie.

  The story went a long way to explaining why it took the two of them so long to become friends.

  “Hey, Mom,” he said, kissing her cheek. He shook Arnie’s hand. “I’m going to fix this real quick.” He went into the kitchen and opened the mix. “I booked the Beat Braves a show. You guys should come.” He found the big blue mixing bowl and threw everything in.

  “What are you making?” Mom asked.

  He showed her the box.

  “What’s the music like?” Arnie said.

  “You’ll like it,” Henry said, pulling out the handheld mixer. “You can dance around. Make it rain.”

  “Careful,” Mom said, “don’t over-mix it.”

  “I can read the directions. It’s right on the box. You should come too, Mom. See what I’m about.”

  “I know what you’re about, and I don’t like that kind of music.”

  “Someone once told me it’s good for you to do something you don’t want to do. You can come by for a half hour. You don’t know this kind of music. They do their own thing. They’re taking tradition and making it into something new.”

  Mom gave him a puzzled look. “Who are you, and what have you done with my son?”

  “Very funny,” Henry said. He scraped the batter into a pan. “Are you going to take your stuff out of the oven soon?”

  Mom got up. “I’ll get dinner on the table, and you can bake your thing.”

  “How’s everything going at the center?” Arnie asked.

  “You would know better than me, Mr. Executive Board. Linda said you want us to do the festival but Rayanne can’t figure out how to pull it off. I am learning a lot.”

  “Who’s Rayanne?” Mom asked.

  “This woman I work with,” Henry said, keeping his voice neutral. “I’m sure I mentioned her. If you come to the concert, you can meet her. She’s the one who helped me find the venue.”

  “I thought you two were a thing,” Arnie said.

  Henry shot Arnie a look but it was too late.

  “Is that the friend who has the couch you’ve been sleeping on?” Mom asked. “I should have known there was a reason you weren’t back here, begging me for more time.”

  “She’s native, Mom. You would like her.” He wanted to add she’s a hard-ass like you, but at the moment this would come off as an argument against him.

  “Then why am I hearing about her now?”

  “We’re getting to know each other,” Henry said.

  “I bet,” Mom said. “You’re using condoms, aren’t you?”

  Arnie snorted with his mouth full of beer. He turned his head away to laugh.

  “Jeez, Mom. Yes. She has tons of them,” and realizing how that sounded, he added, “…that she won at a bachelor party. I mean bachelorette party.”

  “She sounds charming,” Mom said.

  “She is,” Arnie said. “He’s right. You’ll like her. You can credit her for him sticking with the job as long as he did.”

  Henry stuck the pan in the oven and set the timer. He helped Mom carry food to the table and they sat down to eat.

  “And I am doing the job,” Henry said. “If the center keeps going, I have lots of my own ideas. I’m trying to learn which ones will work better than others. Rayanne is showing me how fundraising works so I’m learning all about that. We’re going to have to figure out someplace to move. Arnie, maybe you have ideas how I could learn more about that.”

  Both Mom and Arnie were paying deep attention to their food.

  “What is it?”

  Arnie took his time before saying, “Unfortunately, your job at the center is going away.”

  “Did Linda say that?” Henry asked. A mixture of anger and insecurity stirred in his belly.

  “No. Linda is fine with you but even if I can convince the board to keep the center going a little longer, it’s not going to be enough to keep you on.”

  “I can take a salary cut,” Henry said. “Or even find a part-time job until we can cover me.”

  “You don’t have a place to live,” Mom said.

  “I’m working on it,” Henry said.

  “There’s a job for you out on the rez,” Arnie said. “Uncle Mike has a room for you. It would be good for you to try living out there. It wouldn’t be forever.”

  “For years we’ve been talking about you living out there. When you were a kid and we went to visit, I could hardly get you to go home when it was time to leave,” Mom said.

  “I am an adult now,” Henry said, keeping his voice calm. “You two don’t get to make a plan and tell me what to do.”

  “It’s a great opportunity,” Arnie said.

  “That’s what you said about the job at the center,” Henry said.

  “Linda said you’ve been great. Think of what you can do in the Economic Development Office on the rez. It’s a grunt job to start but you’re smart. You can work your way up. Then you’ll have more freedom to pick what you want.”

  “You forced that other job on me and I picked that,” Henry said. “That’s what I want to do.”

  “Henry, you don’t have a choice,” Mom said. “Please don’t tell me you expect to live with that girl while you fiddle around at a part-time job.”

  “Her name is Rayanne and she’s the one who gets to decide whether I’m a loser, not you. I want to be worthy of her, and I’m not going to sponge off her. If you can’t say her name, don’t talk about her.” He turned to Arnie. “Is there a date I’m required to go out there, or were you thinking of abducting me or what?”

  “It’s not like that,” Arnie said. “You can start in a week or so. Why not give it a chance? You can come back if it doesn’t work out.”

  Henry scoffed. As tough as things were now, they would be harder if he left and tried to come back.

  The timer for the brownies went off. Henry took his plate into the kitchen and dropped it in the sink. He pulled the pan out of the oven.

  “Did you check it with a toothpick?” Mom said.

  “No. I didn’t. Why don’t you d
o it for me?”

  He stalked out the front door.

  41

  Rayanne heard the key in the lock and smiled when Henry came through the door. But instead of coming over to grope her like every other time he came into the house, he walked back and forth across the apartment, his eyes blazing.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  He shook his head and waved the question away. His jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists. Every exhale was an audible snort. The tension radiated off him. She’d never seen him like this.

  “Will you come sit with me?”

  He stopped pacing and his look softened. He crawled onto the couch and put his head in her lap.

  “Did you have dinner with your mom and Arnie?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Arnie got me a job on the rez. Mom got me a room with Uncle Mike. I’m supposed to move out there next week.”

  “I thought they wanted you to have a job at the center. Did you tell them to take a hike?”

  “It turns out I don’t have a job at the center.” Henry flopped onto his back and looked into her eyes.

  “That’s Linda’s call, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what I thought but it seems Arnie arranged to pay me through some temporary family-pity source, which is conveniently gone now. One of Arnie’s schemes, I should have known. Even the job wasn’t real.”

  “It was real. Did he say the center is closing?” Rayanne hated the idea but she hated the not knowing more.

  “If he knows, he’s not telling me. Whatever happens, there isn’t a place for me. And as my mom never fails to point out, I am homeless. I can’t find a place if I don’t have a job.”

  Rayanne nudged him until he sat up and then she crawled up and straddled him so they were sitting face to face. “You’re not homeless.”

  “I don’t have my own place,” he said.

  She leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder.