Speak to the Wind (25 page)

"Come on, big brother. Spit it out. What's in that head of yours?"

Joe turned around, his expression uncertain as he tested his idea on Josh. "I've always wanted to see a cultural arts center on the reservation. A big building that could h
o
use a variety of Native American activities, especially Apache crafts and arts."

"You mean, something like a museum?"

"A living museum," Joe said with a little rush. "People could gather on the premises to do their work, to exhibit and show, to sell, to interact and participate in joint projects. Even to dance or hold ceremonies.
It would be a place for the peo
ple. And possibly outsiders could attend for a fee, the way they do at any other museum."

"A living museum," Josh mumbled, mulling the idea over in his mind. "I like it. Like it a lot. Have you mentioned it to anyone else?"

"I bounced the concept off Uncle Will once when we were fishing."

"And? What was his reaction?"

"Said he wasn't sure. Needed time to think about it."

"That could take years," Josh said with a shake of his head.

"But I got a more immediate response when I talked with Aunt Minnie and her friend, Rose. They make miniature burden baskets together and sell them in shops in Phoenix and Tucson, so they know
a little
about the commercial market. And the difficulties involved. They liked the idea and even suggested building a heritage room where ancient Indian
crafts could be taught and practiced. That way the arts would never die."

"Hey, yes. Great idea.
" Josh made more notes. "Did you tell any others?
Maria?
"

Joe shook his head. "Just you."

"It's a damned good idea, Joe. So far, the count's running four in favor and one undecided. Not bad for something that has no real plan yet."

"But it has a purpose for our people. And that's what counts. A
good
purpose."

"Yeah, Joe. I agree." Josh took another sheet and began scribbling. "Okay, we have a cultural center to be built first with possible apartments
in the future. What about accom
modations for tourists once they get here? The reservation's not the center of a metr
opolis, you know. There's no Mc
Donald's or Holiday Inn on the corner."

"You mean... restaurants and hotels? We do need them, don't we
?
"

"Yeah, if you plan to bring people in here, you have to provide for them. There may even be a market for a variety of shops. Maybe a whole bunch in a complex—"

“
That's it. Josh!" Joe's expression became animated as the ideas flowed freely between them. "A total Indian complex. Something that will take plan
ning, architectural studies, en
gineering—not necessarily my company, though—we
’ll bid it out. We wi
ll employ Indians as much as possible. Otherwise, we'll hire from the Anglo commu
nity, but it'll be on a job-by-
job basis. We'll retain control."

"We'll need to get professionals to design it. Can we find enough from the Indian community?"

"I'm sure we can, if we st
art looking," Joe said. "For in
stance, I know of an Apache architect in Phoenix."

Josh's excitement grew along with Joe's. "I think we're on to something big."

"Indians will be a part of every step and stage, both professional and nonprofessional. Young and old, skilled or untrained. We'll train them, teach them skills, make jobs available. This is it, Josh!"

"You know what else we can do
?
" Josh leaned back and tapped his cheek with a finger. "Federal grant monies are available to Indian busines
ses. We just need to apply prop
erly in order to receive the funds."

"We'll get a lawyer to look into that
ASAP
." Joe walked to the huge map of the reservation tacked to the wall. "Let's see now. Where would be s
ome possible locations for some
thing of this magnitude?"

Josh stood behind him, then pointed. "This area is the most logical. It's land that's already cleared, already has roads. You've got to admit it's very scenic."

"But it's already in use."

"Just
as
vacation homes.
And not even by Apaches.
"

"The residents have paid for
long-term
land leases. Some Apache live on this side." Joe moved to another section.

"Compare the profits of
the vacationers versus this mul
ti
-
million
dollar project."

"Well, I'm not sure it's profitab
le at all right now. It's self-
sustaining, though. Maybe
if we cut garbage and sewer ser
vices, profits could be increased
by a little
.
" Joe shrugged and tried
to steer Josh's attention away from the lake, but his campaign manager seemed single-minded about it.

"Why don't we do a feasibility study? I would certainly expect this Indian center to be highly profitable in the long run. As well as something of the people, for the people."

"Yes, oh, yes." Joe's lips pressed together, and he could feel a tightening in his chest. A study would commit the fiscal facts to paper and eliminate any sympathetic views.

"Another thing," Josh continued. "If we use this area that's already available, we won't have to clear new land. That should please the environmentalists a
s well as
the Indians."

Joe faced his brother with arms folded across his chest.
"But
this land
isn't available, Josh."

"It could be easily enough."

Joe shook his head. "Not easily at all."

"But it's recreational land and most of the inhabitants are part-timers."

"They own land leases."

"End the leases when they come up for renewal."

"Dammit, Josh—" Joe ran his hand around the back of his neck
.
"
We
—we can't
.
..
I
just can’t.
"

"Why not? It would
probably
take some
legal
adjustment
s
, but—"

"Adjustment! It would take eviction!"

"Think of the total picture." Josh stared at his brother. "What's wrong with you?
Suddenly you're being unreason
able. This sort of thing is done all the time, Joe, when new and better use of the land is needed."

"My God, Josh," Joe muttered hoarsely. "This would hurt Maria more than anything I could possibly do!"

"How
?
"

"She owns one of the vacation houses. Her father built it. There's a great deal of sentiment attached to the place."

Josh shuffled across the room and took his seat again.
"Ahh, now I understand your resistance, Joe."
All was quiet for a minute. Then he took another tack. "But you're dealing with this from a strictly personal level. I'm thinking of what's best for the whole tribe." Josh looked at his brother and saw the anguish on his face. "Sorry, bro.
It’s inevitable.
"

"You're right." Joe's tone was hollow as he walked to the door. "Call a meeting with Albert and John and Phillip. Also Uncle Will and any others you think should be in on this. We need to talk. And plan.
Start looking for a lawyer.
"

"Where are you going?"

“
I'll be back later. I need to think."

"Joe, are you
with me on this?
"

"
Look
, I won't fight it. I
’
ll go
with the majority, after a fea
sibility study. And when I'
m assured there is no other—bet
ter—location." He walked out of the building, feeling the tremendous burden of a leader. A good
leader had to con
sider what was best for all, not best for any one person, even if that one person meant more to him than anyone else
in the world
.

Joe Quintero was a man with a heavy heart. He could only imagine what this developing project would do to Maria as he drove Uncle Will's truck into the mountains. He went as far as the end of the pavement, then parked and walked along the dirt road
. He'd already planned to buy an SUV
if he won the election. Living on the rese
rvation almost required a four-
wheel-drive vehicle in the winter. But he also wanted to be able to travel for pleasure in the rugged high country. Know
ing Maria, he was sure she'd want to, also.

He breathed deeply, thinking how Maria would love this
site
. The heavy pine smells, the moist air, the special feelings of being in a remote place and seeing wild animals. Joe wanted to bring her here, to this place of his ancestors... near the home of the mountain spirits and the
origins of the
wind.

The roadway dwindled to become a trail that led farther into the wilderness. Thi
s was the area McAndrew had pro
posed to develop. Now Joe knew they couldn't let it happen.

He tried to spot the treasured eagles. Instead, he startled a small flock of wild turkeys who were feeding on acorns. How different the clumsy turkeys were from the graceful eagles.

Yet in their own way both were valuable and important in nature's scheme.

He remembered how in ea
rly morning the bald eagles cir
cled the ponderosa pines and swooped down to the lake for food. It was a glorious sight t
o see the magnificent birds rid
ing the wind, their wingspan so broad t
hat they made shad
ows on the earth. Oh, how Maria admired them.

Joe struggled over the rough terrain, pausing more than once to catch his breath in the high, thin altitude. He stepped on a dry branch and startled a deer
that
bounded away. He figured he was about eight thousand feet up now. They should be close.

He shaded his eyes and scanned the treetops. At last he spotted one. An eagle's nest
. The complex structure was al
most as big as his office. Joe slumped against a boulder and lay back to gaze up at the huge nest made of interlaced branches. Maria would love seeing this.

It was
an
amazing
structure
, when you examined the nest. Amazing and beautiful and necessary. So was the eagle. It was a rare bird worth saving.

Worth doing whatever was necessary to save it?

There was only one answer. Yes.

It was the same with his people. They were worth saving, worth helping, worth doing what was necessary to make it possible. And that was his job... no, it was his dedication. His commitment. Some things, however unpleasant, had to be done for the good of many. This was one of them. It couldn't be helped.

He would explain it all next week when she came up to the cabin. She would understand. She would hate it, but she would understand.

He hated it, too.

I love you and would never do anything purposely to hurt you. But this is out of my h
ands. Maria, my love, please un
derstand!

Joe pushed himself to his feet and started ba
ck
. A wild cry, a high
pitched scream, taunted him. He looked up and saw the eagle's underbelly as it swooped through the treetops. Then the sun reflected on the white crown of the mighty bald eagle as he lifted his cry of defiance. And victory.

A week later,
Maria drove the winding road to the cabin with her usual growing sense of euphoria. Spring in the White Mountains was as glorious as the autumn, although quite opposite. The leaves that had dropped off in various shades of gold returned in multiple hues of green. New life sprouted in the charred acres; the air and earth were moist. The whole place renewed Maria's spirit and refreshed her outlook. She loved it! She wanted to embrace the world in her happiness as she unlocked the cabin.

The familiar musty smell of the closed-up cabin mingled with a stale smoky fragrance left by the forest fire, and she started opening windows immediately. She dropped her suitcase at the foot of the bed and gazed at the multicolored quilt.

Suddenly she was overwhelmed by the desire to make love with Joe on that bed. She could hardly wait to see him!

When he arrived, she hurled herself
into his arms, bury
ing her face against his neck. "Joe, Joe!
Missed you so much.
"