Broken Trust

by Shannon Baker

  “Mostly to add prestige to the group. The more organizations joining the coalition, the more who will want to be a part of it. It can create a snowball, yes?”

  Mark held up his hand, smiling like a stray dog in the pound, hoping someone would love him. “We’re running a little late. Why don’t we break for lunch before the finance report and come back refreshed?”

  Etta cast a slight frown in his direction. She addressed the group. “What do you say? Shall we add this rainforest coalition to the agenda for the next meeting?”

  The guy in the corduroy blazer—he was either an attorney or a philanthropist, Martin or Stanzio—consulted his watch. “I’d agree to that. What about a working lunch?”

  Marion Dempsey said, “I need to catch a flight, so I’d like to keep forging ahead.”

  Etta leaned back in her chair. “I’m going up to Silverthorne to do some hiking tomorrow and wouldn’t mind wrapping up early, as well.”

  Daniel Cubrero addressed Mark. “Perhaps you could ask the kitchen to bring our food in here for a working lunch.” Not only did Nora like his idea of sending Mark out of the room while she spoke, she nearly melted at his South American accent.

  Mark dipped his head, never losing his grin. “I’m not sure they’ll do that. They’re planning for us downstairs.”

  Professor Santa’s voice sounded like a mallet. “We’d appreciate it if you’d do what you can. Cancel the lunch and bring us deli sandwiches if you need to.”

  Mark jumped up as if hit with an electric prod. “Of course. I’ll take care of it.”

  Daniel Cubrero nodded, satisfied. “Bueno. Now, let’s see how our finances are sitting.” He smiled at Nora and her legs went wobbly.

  Mark pushed back from the table. He walked past Nora on the way out of the room and when his back was to the board, he widened his eyes in what she assumed was a warning.

  Etta cleared her throat. “We’re deeply sorry to hear about Darla Barrows. She served as Finance Director competently and thoroughly for three years. She was always willing to help and ready to answer our questions. She’ll be missed.” Etta leaned over and pulled a tissue from a canvas bag. She honked her nose in tribute.

  Bradshaw cleared his throat. “Is there any news on the investigation?”

  Etta shook her head. “As I understand it, there are no leads and the detectives will be questioning staff.”

  “Perhaps we should hire a private investigator?” Daniel said.

  Marion Dempsey shook her gray hair. “We’re here to save the environment, not track down murderers.”

  At least they had their priorities straight.

  Etta allowed a minute or two of murmurings about the sadness and waste of Darla’s murder and then cleared her throat. “At this time, I’d like to welcome Nora Abbott. Yesterday was her first day, so we’ll muddle through this together as best we can.”

  The members turned pages in their board reports to settle on the financial report. Nora stood and hefted her stack of pages. “I studied the financials in the board packet. Unfortunately, they don’t match up to what is currently in our system, so I prepared another P&L. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to work up a cash flow, but I printed out a balance sheet.”

  She handed out the reports and gave the board a second to digest the new information. These were professional board members and business people used to cruising financial statements like NASCAR drivers ran a track.

  Corduroy guy, Martin/Stanzio, frowned. “What happened to the cash balance in the general fund?”

  Bradshaw scowled. “The long-term investment asset balance is substantially down too.”

  After they’d mumbled among themselves for several minutes, Nora spoke. “As you can see, there are some differences from the previous report and generally, they show the Trust is in a worse financial position. I assume December will bring an influx of donations, but until then we’re in for a dry spell as far as cash flow.”

  Etta’s double chin wobbled. “Can you give us a quick overview?”

  Nora skimmed through, surprised her voice sounded strong and confident because inside, she was a sickening swamp of anxiety. Somewhere in the middle of the report, where Nora kept reminding herself to breathe and speak clearly instead of racing along and mumbling, the door behind her opened and closed. It had to be Mark. If he had an axe in his hand, he’d swing and her head would roll onto the plush hotel carpeting, blood clashing with the tasteful reds.

  When Nora paused, Etta spoke. “What I’m hearing is that open space and air-quality works are on budget, forest restoration and trail maintenance are slightly over, but climate modeling has already surpassed its entire budget for the year.”

  Nora nodded.

  “If this is accurate,” Professor Santa said, “We won’t have the funds to fight oil exploration in the Amazon Basin.”

  Daniel Cubrero frowned. “We can’t allow that situation to continue in Ecuador. We must do something to protect the delicate ecosystem.”

  While Nora stood with her face burning—her palms a puddle of sweat and her heart banging in her chest—the board erupted in concern over the careless oil companies denuding the rainforest. It was a topic that concerned Nora as well, but it was hardly relevant to this meeting.

  Etta raised her arms to quiet the table. “First things first. We obviously need to deal with these disturbing financials.” She waved a come-in motion to the person behind Nora. “Can you explain this, Mark?”

  He walked past her, the smell of nervous sweat wafting from him. Of course he began with a laugh. “Obviously Nora hasn’t had time to get to know our system.” Mark lasered such murderous intent at Nora she almost dove for the carpet.

  Etta drew in a deep breath. “Mark, Nora, would you mind stepping out for a few minutes while we discuss this among ourselves?”

  “Of course.” Nora walked past Mark on her way to the door. She was pretty sure she could outrun him once the conference room doors closed.

  “Lunch is on its way. They’ll bring it any second.” Mark’s shrill voice rose.

  Etta sounded strained. “Thank you.”

  As the door clicked closed behind Nora, Mark said something else. It probably irritated them that Mark didn’t leave as instructed, but it suited Nora fine to have a few minutes to escape.

  She strode down the hall, heading for sanctuary in the rest room.

  A light touch on her arm set her off like a rocket “Agggh!”

  Benny stood beside her. He’d made no sound when he approached, just like his mysterious ancestor who haunted Nora’s imagination.

  “Maybe you should cut back on the coffee,” he said, his face expressionless.

  It was too much to hope that he’d returned to Arizona. Tenacious little guy. If she didn’t listen to what he had to say, he’d never leave. She glanced down the hall and saw no sign of Mark. She slipped into an empty conference room and pulled Benny after her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to you.”

  He had all the time in the world. After all, the Hopi had been promised a thousand years ago that they’d be the longest surviving tribe of all. Nora didn’t have time to spare. In a matter of minutes she’d have to face Mark. “What is going on, Benny?”

  He paused. “I was sent to warn you.”

  fourteen

  If she thought it would stop her from hearing, Nora would ram her fingers in her ears. Warnings, threats, messages from long-dead Native Americans. She’d left Flagstaff to get away from this.

  She stood in the darkened conference room. The red patterned carpet, tall windows, and striped wallpaper decorated this room but with the lights off and no tables or refreshments set up, it felt cold and dead. “Go away, Benny. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “You need to stay watchful and do what you can to protect the Mother.” His unfathomable eye
s watched her in endless serenity.

  “You know this message is going to make me crazy, right? I want to ask you what is going to happen and what to watch for and what I’m supposed to do. But you’d only say the balance depends on me and you can’t tell me what to do because that’s not the Hopi way.”

  Her words brought the ghost of a smile. “You can learn. That’s good.”

  She thought back to the time she’d spent with him at his shack on the mesa in northern Arizona. Hopiland. She’d been sent there by Cole. Kidnapped was the technical term.

  Cole …

  The heat of the Arizona summer that morning seared the top of her head. Benny walked between bushy corn plants in the blazing desert sun below Second Mesa. He caressed their leaves. “Hopi have a respect for life and trust in the Creator.”

  “Seems like you could grow more corn if you used a tractor or irrigation sprinkler. Why would your spirits want you to do everything the hard way?” Nora asked.

  Benny straightened and brushed his hands together. “Making things hard prepares us for what may happen. Like a runner practices every day, building strength and endurance so he can run the marathon, we Hopi live a meager and hard life so we’re ready to survive when the time comes.”

  He handed her a stick about a foot long and thick as a broom handle. He reached into his pocket and brought out a small plastic bag of corn seeds. “You stay here and plant these seeds over there.” He pointed to a sandy spot next to the outer corn plants.

  Planting corn was a stupid idea and she didn’t want to do it. She squatted down and thrust the stick into the ground. She dropped in a few seeds and packed the soil around them.

  She straightened and stepped sideways, falling on her knees to dig a new hole, dropped in the seeds and scooped dirt.

  After a while, Nora rose from the ground, feeling deep connection with the seeds. The Earth gave life to the corn, which nourished the people here in Hopiland. It was this way all over the world. Abigail had given life to Nora and loved her, teaching her and protecting her. And if she were lucky, someday Nora would be able to do the same with a child of her own.

  Words wouldn’t form but rhythm and sound grew naturally, boiling up her throat and erupting from her mouth in a song. She danced, tears falling from her face, her voice loud and deep with love for the corn and the Earth that would nurture it.

  Now she felt her boots firmly rooted on the conference room carpet. She focused on the Hopi man in front of her. He believed his tribe held responsibility for keeping the entire planet in balance. If they didn’t perform their ceremonies in the ancient way, the two brothers who sat on the serpent on the Earth’s poles would let the serpent lose.

  It had happened before. The Hopi said it was when the Third World ended due to man’s wickedness and the good people had climbed to this world, the Fourth.

  Modern scientists had an explanation that sounded similar. They speculated the Earth shifted on its axis, maybe sending the dinosaurs into extinction. Some said it could happen again.

  Nora knew this and more but she didn’t want to let Benny know how many hours she’d spent online reading about Hopi, studying their thousand-year-old prophecies, trying to follow the instructions for living a simple life. If she believed everything she read, she’d be crazy. She found it interesting, that’s all.

  Nora ran a hand through her hair. “I suppose Nakwaiyamtewa” —she stumbled over the pronunciation—“thinks that me working for the Trust positions me to protect or restore something. Maybe he’s worried about the Amazon rainforest. But I’m having a hard time believing a chief from the 1800s—”

  “Kikmongwi,” Benny interrupted.

  “Okay, what you said.” Nakwaiyamtewa was a kikmongwi who lived on the rez nearly 150 years ago. When Nora had been stressed to the breaking point because enviros tried to kill her, she’d imagined she saw him in the form of a helpful little man. Again, if she believed that, she’d be crazy.

  Not believing, not crazy. “Anyway, I’m a white woman and I don’t understand Hopi, so Nakwaiyamtewa can choose one of you spiritual Native Americans to work for him.”

  Benny shrugged. “I can’t answer for him. I only know what he told me.”

  “And he didn’t tell you much.”

  He shook his head. “He never does.”

  “I’ve had about enough of kachinas coming and going in my life. He shows up, tells me I’ve got to do something, then disappears without helping. In the meantime people die. Heather died.”

  Benny lowered his head, the sorrow evident.

  “Why me? Is it because I planted the corn you gave me? Or that I’ve read a little about the Hopi Instructions and I’m trying to live a more balanced life?”

  His face remained inscrutable. “The Hopi life is for Hopi. It’s not for everyone.”

  “Right. So that means since I’m not Hopi, you and your kikmongwi can leave me alone.”

  “The hardest thing in the world is to be Hopi. We must constantly be vigilant. I see things—signs that the Fourth World is coming to an end and we will enter the Fifth World.”

  Every religion thinks the end is near, pal. “I don’t believe that, Benny.”

  He spoke with his usual speed of a snail on sedatives. “The prophecies call for us to act, to lessen the violence of the end of the Fourth World.”

  Mark stomped past the open door without glancing in, obviously hunting for her.

  “What I have been told to tell you is this: ‘the whole world will shake and turn red and turn against those hindering the Hopi.’ ”

  Nora could make a run for it, get out of the building before Mark found her. “I’m sorry, Benny. I don’t understand this.”

  He inhaled and waited. “You will learn things moment to moment as you need to understand.”

  She calculated the distance to the stairs.

  “The message I have to give you says the prophecy is being fulfilled and if you stop it, all will be well. If not …” Again he shrugged.

  “You need to conference with Nakwaiyamtewa. Let him know I’m not up for the role of Enviro Girl.”

  Mark pounded by the other direction and this time his head swiveled toward her and he stopped dead. “Are you hiding from me?”

  Nora shook her head. “No. I saw an old friend and we wanted to catch up.”

  Mark’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? And where is she?”

  Startled, Nora spun around. She hadn’t noticed a door on the other side of the room. Apparently, Benny had. He must have slipped through it before Mark saw him. “I’m not sure where he went. I’d better go find him.” Nora whipped from the dark conference room into the hallway.

  “Stop.” Mark caught up to her and stood too close. His stomach must be a boiling mass of anxiety because it came out in sour breath. “What did you tell the board?”

  Gulp. “Just that the finances aren’t as rosy as their last reports indicate.”

  He sucked in his flabby lips. “We’ve got money coming in any day now that will make those reports accurate. God, what a mess.”

  Nora almost felt sorry for him. “We could certainly create a projected revenue report for the board.”

  His face looked like an angry tomato. “You didn’t tell them that Sylvia’s work is over budget?”

  The overhead glare of the hallway lights felt like a heat lamp. “They need to know the truth.”

  “Sylvia is brilliant. She’s amazing. If you’ve done anything to hurt her …”

  The hallway was closing in on Nora.

  Mark held his hands to his head. He seemed to be talking to himself. “I need to think. How can I save her? We can’t let her go.”

  “Maybe we—”

  “You did this.” Mark’s eyes bored into Nora. “You don’t understand. Don’t know how special she is.”

  “If we—”


  “No. You can’t be here.” He shook his head. “You’re fired.”

  fifteen

  Even though Christmas was a few months away, they resembled a human candy cane standing in the hallway outside the conference room. Mark’s bright red face contrasted with Nora’s pasty complexion.

  Sylvia expected to see Nora Abbott in a business suit, not a peasant skirt and cowboy boots. Such an interesting choice to wear something so earthy to the board meeting. Nora had that annoyingly fresh and healthy appearance. Her copper hair bounced around a face alive with interest and blue eyes that seemed ready to smile. That easy beauty and confidence annoyed Sylvia, who’d had to fight for every ounce of her own sophistication.

  Someone should tell Mark to tuck his shirt in. Actually, someone should tell Mark to quit dressing like a Mormon boy on mission.

  Mark sputtered in Nora’s face. Another crisis he obviously couldn’t handle. Sylvia would talk him down from this one, as usual. She sighed and considered the diamond-encrusted watch on her slender wrist. She’d hoped to get to the board meeting early enough to schmooze them over lunch.

  Damn Eduardo. She shouldn’t have to do any of this.

  She approached Mark and Nora. “What is the problem here?” Her voice sounded like cool spring water.

  Mark jumped as if swatted from behind. He verged on tears. “She told the board your project is over budget. That all of the Trust is running in the red.”

  Damn!

  Sylvia smiled warmly. “I wasn’t aware of any overages. But the board understands the importance of the work. It’ll be all right.”

  “All right?” His voice raised two octaves. “She ruined everything.”

  Despite her bloodless appearance, Nora managed dignity and calm amid Mark’s breakdown.

  Sylvia forced herself to touch Mark’s shoulder, knowing contact with her would soothe him. “Stay calm. I’ll take care of this. Etta is a dear friend, and Bryson Bradshaw and I attended a world environmental conference together last year. Over lunch I’ll explain the situation and why it’s taking time. They’ll approve the increased budget.”