by Matt Musson
The enormous creature stretched clear across the room and there were feathers everywhere until the eagle settled atop the old army footlocker. Standing in the center of the room, the big bird closed his wings.
As luck would have it, Rottweiler was already standing on the footlocker. And, for once, Rottweiler was truly at a loss for words. I can still picture him looking straight up at the giant eagle towering above him.
The parrot stuttered. “Duh... Uhm... Uhm... Oh poop.”
Rott fainted dead away. He just rolled over and passed out cold.
The rest of us sat stunned, not sure what to do. Toby had the presence of mind to say, “everyone, just stay still. No sudden moves.”
At first the great bird ignored us and ignored Rottweiler as well. He was preoccupied. He was using his beak to untie a small satin ribbon that was curled around his right leg.
Finally, after several tugs, the sky blue ribbon came loose and dangled from the Eagle's beak. Then, (and I swear it's the truth) the Eagle looked slowly around the room. His gaze stopped on Charlie. He walked to the end of footlocker and dropped the ribbon into Charlie's lap.
Suddenly, the eagle pushed off with his powerful legs and launched back out the window.
For a second more we sat staring at each other. Then like an explosion, we jumped up and raced to the opening. But, the great bird was gone. Although, we did hear an Eagle's cry echoing through the neighborhood.
By the time we sat back down, Charlie was unfolding a small piece of paper attached to the ribbon.
“It's a message,” Charlie said.
Without missing a beat, Shad asked, “Is it from Dumbledore?”
At that point I really thought that Charlie was going to reach over and smack Shad. But, he had more self control that I gave him credit for. Instead, Charlie took two fingers and brought them to his eyes. Then he pointed at Shad in the universal symbol of ‘I'm watching you, Smart Aleck.'
But, I understood how Shad felt. Was an owl from Hogwarts going to come flying into the clubhouse next?
We turned our attention back to the message.
Bogdon asked, “What does it say?”
Charlie dropped the crumpled slip of paper on top of the footlocker and gave Bogdon his answer.
“It says: ‘Come at once. George'”
*************
Chapter Twenty-Nine – Stolen Arrow!
The good news is that Eagle came to visit us on Friday and the next day we were all planning to attend a weekend Boy Scout trip. So, we left home the next morning in our Scout uniforms and told our folks we would be back on Sunday. And, we called the Scout Master and told him that an emergency had come up and were unable to go camping that weekend. Then, we headed over to our secondary club house, the bat cave.
The bat cave is a double sized storage unit nestled in the back of Stony Martin's U-Store-It, over behind the old Granite Falls Drive-In. It is our secret hideaway where we keep all our good stuff away from the prying eyes of Parents – and other non-club members. Inside, in addition to our work area, we have canoes, kayaks, scuba gear, model rockets, and tons of remote control gear for land, sea and air. We also have our electric golf cart, several motorized bikes, our climbing and camping gear and miscellaneous scientific and communications equipment.
The bat cave also holds our four hundred and fifty pound hardened steel floor safe. The 1939 model from the Circle City Safe Company of Indianapolis, Indiana is where we keep all the really valuable stuff we find. Right now, it's holding a dozen gold coins, some precious jewels, a 7 ½ lb gold nugget and a genuine US $1000 bill that I found hidden in the lining of an old camera case.
Not knowing what we would need when we got to Cherokee, we decided to travel light, and carry cash. In addition, we pulled our debit cards out of the safe. Before we left Toby got online and verified the club account had a $22,000 balance. An EBay auction was ending the next day for a 3 carat diamond ring I found last month. It would probably bring another couple of grand if we needed it.
By the time the big black limousine Charlie ordered pulled up out front, we were ready to go.
The trip up to Cherokee was uneventful. We brought a couple of DVD's to watch on the limo's monitor. And, when the driver heard he was delivering kids he stocked up on chips and soda. He was a nice guy who told funny stories and we tipped him well when he dropped us off at the Museum of the Cherokee.
We stacked up our belongings in front of the statue of Sequoyah and began debating the best way to get in touch with George Guest. But, within three minutes the old Indian came walking up.
“Sorry I'm late,” he said. ”I went by to check on The Arrow.”
“Isn't it in the Museum?” Charlie asked puzzled.
“No,” George replied bitterly. ”They took it. They tricked us, and they took it!”
His outburst became a rant.
“They have no idea the power of The Arrow. To them it’s just a trinket. They want to make money off of it. To them it’s money, money, money. And they have no idea of the fire that they are playing with!”
“Remember this boys;” George said solemnly, “greedy people are stupid.”
“I don’t understand,” said Charlie. ”Where exactly is The Arrow?”
“They moved it,” George replied. ”It’s in the Casino!”
Several years ago the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians let some big gambling company come in and build a Casino on the Qualla Boundary. People come from all around these parts to stay in the hotel and watch a Las Vegas style show and gamble. The Casino makes a lot of money. And, the Cherokee get their share. The Casino also provides a lot of jobs for maids and waitresses and bell hops and stuff. But, there are still plenty of Cherokees who see the gambling center as a bad influence. Apparently, George is one of them.
It turns out that several of the Cherokee leaders on the Board of the Museum are also on the Board of the Casino. When they saw The Arrow That Would Not Miss, they realized it could bring a lot of tourists to Qualla. They decided that if The Arrow were displayed at the Casino those tourists were likely to drop some money into the Video Slots and Poker Machines before they left. That would mean more money for the tribe.
So, the Directors forced Dr. Yellow Horse to move The Arrow That Would Not Miss to the Casino. And, George had already signed a paper agreeing that the Museum could display The Arrow. He just did not specify that it had to be displayed ‘in the museum.'
“Don't they understand how important The Arrow is?” asked Toby.
“I am afraid not,” George replied. ”Those Indians have been brain washed by money. They are not just City Indians. They are Casino Indians.”
The words ‘Casino Indians' came out of George's mouth like he was spitting them.
“The only thing they believe in is luck.”
We stood around for a few moments in despair trying to figure out what to do. But, we were stumped until we got a suggestion from our smallest club member.
“You know what I think the Otter would say about a situation like this?” asked Freddie.
George looked over at Freddie and his frown gave way to a smile. I think he was pleased that Freddie was looking to his animal guide for help.
“No,” George asked. ”What would the Otter say?”
Freddie smiled. ”The Otter would say – If they believe in Luck, then we need to use that Luck against them!”
We all circled around him and Freddie gave us a quick outline of his idea to outsmart the Cherokee Casino. I just hoped his plan would be a winner.
Toby spoke after Freddie. ”Off the top of my head, I'd say you're looking at a Boesky, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethros and a Leon Spinks, not to mention the biggest Ella Fitzgerald ever!”
“What?” ask a bewildered Freddie Dunkleberger. “What the heck are you talking about?”
“I have no idea,” Toby grinned. ”But Brad Pitt said that to George Clooney in ‘Oceans Eleven', just before they robbed three casinos a
t the same time. Somehow it seemed appropriate.”
“Hey!” Shad objected. ”I'm the one who is supposed to quote movies and TV. Quit horning in on my action.”
“Not to mention that I should get all the Brad Pitt lines,” Charlie added with a suave smile.
Following that exchange, we got down to the job at hand. It was going to take a lot of work and a lot of money. But, we had plenty of hands and plenty of debit cards, so we got started right away.
**********
First things first, we got George to drive us over to the Casino hotel and we checked in. (Hey, they have nice rooms and great food. Okay?) Then we split into teams.
Since Toby and Bogdon brought their laptops, they got busy programming right away. They were able to use the Casino's wireless Internet connection to download a lot of good stuff that simplified their task. Meanwhile, George drove Thor, Charlie and me over to the Radio Shack and a computer store in Bryson City.
Freddie and Shad were assigned to case the Casino. Shad spent three hours at the buffet. That gave a perfect cover for Freddie to wander around the hotel with his video camera recording everything. Of course, kids are not allowed in the gambling areas, but using a telephoto lens Freddie got us some good pictures of it anyway.
We worked late into the night fueled with room service hamburgers, French fries and milkshakes. We worked up some serious Brain Sweat. At one point I swear I saw smoke coming from Bogdon’s ears. But, by the time we went to bed Saturday night, the operation was set.
************
Chapter Thirty – Cherokee Sting
We slept a little late the next morning because we wanted to be rested up for our assault on the Casino. About 9:30 we got up and showered and dressed. Afterwards we hit the breakfast buffet and loaded up on pancakes, link sausage and fried apples and washed it all down with plenty of Mellow Yellow. With all that sugar and caffeine surging through our bodies we were roaring to go.
At 10:30 exactly, George Guest walked into the lobby of the Casino in his full Cherokee Medicine Man garb, complete with doe skin pants, a homespun cape and a turbaned headdress with feathers. Rattling and jingling, he attracted plenty of attention from the tourists in their boat shoes, baggy shorts and Hawaiian shirts.
George also attracted the attention of the Hotel Lobby manager, a fellow Cherokee and Museum board member, Mr. Randolph Gathers Nuts. Fearing some kind of confrontation was in the offing; Mr. Gathers Nuts quickly made his way over to intercept the elder Cherokee.
“George,” called Mr. Gathers Nuts in an overly friendly manner. ”I'm so glad to see you here at the Hotel. Did you come to see the display? It's right over here under the big sign.”
George Guest remained quiet as Mr. Gathers Nuts lead him over to a section of the lobby that was flanked by more gaudy signage than a discount carpet outlet going out of business. Beneath a giant red and yellow poster that said ‘WOW!' stood the glassed in case displaying The Arrow That Would Not Miss.
As George continued in silence, Randolph tried to impress him with the big plans for The Arrow.
“Next week we start Radio and Television ads in four states that co-promote The Arrow – along with our George Jones / Tammy Wynette look alike duet that's appearing nightly in the Main Room.”
“It's going to be big, George,” Randolph continued. ”We think it may even surpass last summer's 4th of July / Free Wal-Mart Gift Card promotion.”
At some point Randolph Gathers Nuts decided to try and force George to make some comment on the display. He attempted to force the old man on to speak.
“What do you think, George? What do you really think?”
There was a long pause before the old Indian finally responded.
“Randolph, you know I was against putting The Arrow That Would Not Miss into the Casino. But, I was over ruled. Who knows? Perhaps you and the other Board members are right. Perhaps this will draw many white eyes to the Casino. For, The Arrow is a great treasure of our People. It will be good for those who come here, to find out something of our history and our culture.”
(I wondered if George was playing it a little over the top using a term like ‘white eyes’ – but Mr. Gathers Nuts bought the performance hook line and sinker.)
The hotel manager was pleasantly surprised that the Old Indian had accepted the inevitable. He had expected trouble from George and receiving this endorsement instead left him feeling pleased and generous.
“I'm glad you feel that way, George. I'm sure you realize we are just looking out for the financial interests of the Tribe.”
He slapped the old man on the back and reached into his pockets and pulled out a token.
“As long as you are here, George, why don't you take this token - good for a complimentary trip to the ‘Heap Big Breakfast Buffet' in the Casino's main dining room?”
“Thanks anyway,” George replied. ”I ate before I got here. Instead, I was thinking maybe I would try my hand at the Casino.”
This really surprised Randolph. He knew George was a long time opponent to reservation gambling. Having a respected elder of George Guest's stature actually gambling in the Casino made Randolph feel like he had hit the jackpot himself.
“That's great,” replied the hotel manager. ”Might as well keep of those winnings in the Tribe. Eh, George? I wish you a lot of luck. If there's anything I can do for you to make your visit more comfortable, just let me know.”
“Just one second,” ordered George.
The old Indian pulled out a leather pouch full of dry red clay. He stepped over to the display case and laid his hands on the glass above The Arrow. Closing his eyes, he said a silent prayer. Then he faced each of the four directions and blew dust.
“That's all the Luck that I am going to need,” George informed the Lobby manager.
Randolph did not reply. So, the old Indian made a request.
“I don't suppose you could get an old Indian a glass of orange juice. Could You, Randolph?”
“Certainly,” Randolph smiled again, eager to please. ”Coming right up.”
“Great,” said George. ”I'll be in the Casino.”
Randolph Gathers Nuts was whistling out loud as he came back through the lobby carrying the double tall glass of ice cold Minute Maid. Of course, he politely greeted the group of uniformed Boy Scouts he spied admiring The Arrow, but he paid them no mind.
Randolph walked into Casino and found George sitting at the very first Video Poker machine. As Randolph walked up, the light atop the machine started flashing and bells started going off.
“A Royal Flush!” exclaimed Mr. Gathers Nuts as he approached the old Indian. “That’s amazing, George. That’s a $10,000 payout. I guess this must be your lucky day.”
George Guest looked up and smiled. ”You’re right, Randolph. I am lucky. This is my third Royal Flush since I sat down.”
Randolph Gathers Nuts was astonished when he looked over at video screen. Sure enough, George had balance of $30,000. The Hotel manager still had a smile on his face, but there was an underlying grimace, like maybe he had gotten hold of a bad grapefruit at the ‘Heap Big Breakfast Buffet’.
“I always say the fourth time’s the charm,” George commented.
He put another coin into the machine. He drew a couple of cards for his poker hand – and the lights and bells started going off again.
“Four in a row. What are the odds?” asked the Old Medicine Man.
Randolph panicked when the fourth flush came up. He did not know what was happening. But, something was terribly wrong. He did know that he had to get that Indian off that poker machine!
“Here’s your orange juice, George,” Randolph said, handing the old man the glass.
George received the orange juice gratefully. While he took a great big gulp of Florida’s finest, Randolph managed to stretch his leg around the side of the machine and kick the electric plug out with his foot. Abruptly the machine went dead.
“Oh. Would you lo
ok at that?” said Randolph dripping with false sincerity. “Looks like this machine is broken. No wonder you were getting all those Royal Flushes. Sorry, George. I don’t think we can honor those winnings. There was obviously a video malfunction.”
“No problem,” said the old Indian calmly. “I’m winning because of Luck of The Arrow. I can do as well at any other machine in the place.”
George Guest took another sip of orange juice and then handed the glass back to the Hotel manager. The old Indian got up from his seat and walked across the aisle to the adjacent row of video machines.
As he approached the next device, he spread his arms and the view of the screen was momentarily obscured by the cape across the old man’s shoulders. Whispering something in the Cherokee language, George bent over and touched his head to the screen.
Then, as Randolph watched in horror, George Guest proceeded to rack up another five Royal Flushes in a row. When that machine also mysteriously went dead, the old Indian repeated his lucky streak at a third station next door.
Randolph Gathers Nuts was in a panic and was left with no other choice. He quickly disappeared around the corner and slipped into the electrical storeroom. He immediately popped open the breaker box and cut power to the entire room.
“I’m sorry Folks,” Randolph announced returning to the casino. ”Looks like we are having some temporary technical difficulties. Please help yourself to a complimentary breakfast buffet across the lobby in the dining room, while we try and sort things out.”
As the grumbling early morning crowd shuffled out of the room, the Hotel manager stepped out once more to find a house phone and called his chief maintenance engineer.
“Get that Arrow out of my hotel!” he screamed over the phone. ”Right this minute!”
As Randolph regained his composure, he walked back over the gambling room. He arrived in time to catch a couple of Boy Scouts that had sneaked inside.
“I’m sorry, Boys,” Randolph reprimanded them. “Adults only in the gambling areas.”
“No problem, Sir,” the shortest scout said in a polite and respectful way. ”We just wanted to see what it looked like.”
He flashed the Hotel manager a large Aqua fresh smile that seemed even whiter set off against his fiery red hair. Then, the scouts dutifully trudged out of the room.
