Chapter 20

On the way back to civilization, there was an on-going discussion between the two hulking Deer Horn siblings.

If we build with kiln dried wood, we’d have to cover up the wood with tarps to prevent damage from bad weather, and then weatherproof the structure as it was being built. But that would be cheaper than buying bricks, considering that we had no brick masons in the tribe.

If we build with bricks, we’d have the problem of the masons, but would it solve the weatherproofing issues? Really? Did we know enough about building with brick to know what would and would not be needed to weatherproof it? And what about heat loss? Which one was better?

Well, they built pottery kilns out of brick, didn’t they? But wasn’t that special kinds of brick?

On and on. By the time we’d got back close to Dark Wolf’s place, they’d decided to go with wood, at least for the proof-of-concept kiln.

I wondered how the Deer Horn family ever decided on what to have for dinner. And this was only two siblings. What if all four brothers got involved, not to mention a father, mother, or cousins?

“Say,” I offered as we got closer. “What do you think about paying jobs? I mean, you’re giving up jobs to take this on.” That got silence from the front seat. “Come on. You can’t be thinking about doing this for free, can you?”

Marylou answered first. “The Chief said it was an important project. And we know that the Tribe can’t afford to pay, so...”

“No. Absolutely not. The Spirit said we have ‘adequate money’...” I made the air quotes with my fingers, “so, you’re getting paid. What did they pay at the Horse Sanctuary?”

“Robbie and I were getting thirty-two cents over minimum wage. The others were getting straight minimum,” she said. “And what about you? Are you going to get paid for all you’re doing?”

“Me? Umm ... I’m only thirteen. I don’t know if I can get a wage ... What’s the minimum wage?”

Robbie spoke up. “$1.68 per hour. But the job at the Sanctuary is only for thirty-five hours. So that’s almost $59 per week. Around here, that’s pretty good, even if you have to pay taxes.”

GULP! I had no idea. My life #1 job didn’t have hourly wages. It paid by the hour, sure, but it was like $500 per hour, and I had to give half to the mob pimp. Pay at the Mexican bordello was, of course, not on the menu. But $59 per week seemed like wages in a sweatshop to me. Okay..., it was 1977, but still...

“I think that we can ask the foundation for better than that. Red said the money was going to be coming from a grant from a foundation. I don’t think there’s taxes on grant money, but I don’t know.”

“Well ... that would be great. Will the workers get paid, too?” Robbie asked.

“Nope. Not wages,” I answered. “They’re going to be getting grant money, too, I’ll bet.” I smiled. “How many do you think we could get?”

“Hah!” Marylou laughed. “Not more than a couple of thousand would want to work at our project.”

“Let’s see,” I joined in. “If everybody gets a trowel and hand carries the dirt to the kiln...”

...

It was noon by the time we got back to Dark Wolf’s tipi. Dark Wolf and Toni were setting out the table and food for lunch. “I knew you were going to be here when the eagle came back,” he said. “He was gone all morning. Was he with you?”

I looked out the back window and saw... “Hunter,” I said under my breath. The name just came to me. He was Hunter. The giant eagle was sitting, as always, on the fence pole, and the horses were going back to munching on the grass in the pasture beyond. I pried open the back door, stuck my head out and waved to him. I doubt that it mattered to him at all, but I felt better for having done it.

“I didn’t see him all morning. We were ... uh ... Robbie? Where were we?”

“We were at McKesson’s Hollow,” Robbie provided.

“Hmmf...,” said Dark Wolf. “Prett’ cold, up there.” He eyed me in the borrowed coat.

Crying Wolf and Flower were not there. Probably they’re on their way back to Texas.

I was struggling out of the oversized, but warm, coat. I immediately shivered in the chill of the house. The house wasn’t cold – except by comparison to the inside of the coat. “Thanks Robbie.” I went to toss it back to him, as Marylou had done to me, several hours earlier. But the coat was SO heavy it didn’t fly gracefully toward Robbie; it flopped on the ground about a foot away. Oh, well. I picked it up and walked it the rest of the way. “I gotta get me some warmer clothes. I have a nice fleece-lined jacket, but I need me one of those.”

“Just hit the S Store. Wait ... I bet you can’t drive,” said Robbie. “You can come with me. I’ll drive.” He smiled. “We’ll drop off sis at home. She’s gonna start ordering stuff.”

“Wait,” said Marylou. “We have to talk money before we start buying stuff. Who – or what – is bankrolling this? Or more precisely, I should ask ‘Where is your bank?’”

“I have a personal checking account with about $150 bucks. That’s me. The rest is coming from Red, my Spirit. I wish I could sit at a table and insist on an answer from him. You all know that I can’t do that,” I said.

[Lexi, you need to go into a Spirit-trance for a while. We have to do some planning.]

I walked over to the couch and sat down and closed my eyes.

“I’ve seen this before,” said Dark Wolf. “When she drew the designs yesterday, it was like she went into a trance. She’s not going anywhere for a while. Too bad, too, ‘cause we were about to have wonderful bear steaks. Fresh last fall, and aged in the Meat House ... Let’s get a replacement for the Chief at the Powwow grounds and get him over here.” He picked up the phone and dialed. “Hello, Sun.” He didn’t pronounce it like the ‘sun’ in the sky; it was more like a cross between that and ‘soon.’ He made a second call to the Powwow store.