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Authors: Aimee & David Thurlo

BOOK: Plant Them Deep
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STOP MAKING TROUBLE OR PAY!
Rose dropped down onto the chair. When she’d first tackled the problem facing the land, she’d known she was in for a fight. As it
was at the moment, the power companies didn’t like her one bit. She’d threatened their profit margin and public image. Unfortunately, she had enemies elsewhere as well, even within the tribal council, because of her public stand against gambling and her questions about the move to build a nuclear power plant.
Figuring out who’d left the note would be tough unless the intruder had left fingerprints.
There were just too many possibilities.
Justine Goodluck, her daughter’s partner at work and second cousin, arrived less than ten minutes later, having driven at high speed from the station. By then, Rose had gotten dressed.
Rose told her what happened and pointed out the note. “I didn’t touch it. It’s still there, waiting for you.”
“Good.”
“But there’s something you should know. This was
my fault. I didn’t lock the back door,” Rose admitted, exhaling softly. “There was a time when none of us locked our doors. It just wasn’t needed.”
“You can’t do that these days,” Justine said, “not since you’ve become such a public spokesperson for tribal rights. You’ve ruffled too many feathers.”
“Two earned his keep today,” she said, and explained how the dog had stayed with her.
“He’s always
been a good watchdog,” Justine answered, looking outside, where Two was still sniffing the ground along the driveway. “Have you noticed if anything was taken?”
Rose shook her head. “I don’t think so. I looked around after I got dressed, and couldn’t find anything missing.”
Justine retrieved a fingerprinting kit from her vehicle, then began dusting for prints around the kitchen door. “Any ideas
who it might have been?”
“I’ve been asking myself that ever since I heard the door slam and someone driving away. I think it’s probably the same person who has been trying to scare me off the job I’m doing for the tribe,” she said, and told her about the tan truck that had been following her.
“Does Ella know about that?” Justine lifted several prints, then worked the top of the kitchen table
where the notepad had been resting.
“Yes.” Rose watched Justine work, then added, “Whoever it is is just wasting his time trying to scare me. I’ve spent most
of my adult life as a Plant Watcher. What kind of guardian would I be if I turned my back on our living heritage at the first sign of trouble?”
“A wise one. There are a lot more plants than Rose Desteas. Remember that you’re more important
than the plants—which can be replaced one way or another.”
“Someone who faces danger every single day advises me to turn tail and run?” Rose asked, eyebrows raised.
“I’m prepared for trouble. That’s why I carry a gun—a
big
gun,” Justine added, then began putting away her equipment. “I’ve got several prints, but they may all belong to you and your family. I recognize Ella’s already, and Dawn’s,
based upon size. We’ll have to wait and see which ones belong to friends and your housekeeper, Boots. Meanwhile, you be very careful.”
“I’m careful—well, most of the time. I just never thought of locking the back door during the day.”
“I’m going to need a complete list of everyone you think might want you to stop working on the plant survey, including tribal council members. And add the names
of any other people you consider enemies too.” Justine sat down at the kitchen table and invited Rose to join her.
“Ella has a list like the one you want.”
“I’d rather not wait until Sunday, and I don’t know if she kept a copy in her office. Let’s work on another one right now.”
“Yes, of course.”
Justine took a notepad out of her shirt pocket. “Just give me any names that come to mind.”
“There’s Curtis Largo, the man who’s supposed to be helping me with the plant survey. He doesn’t do his job, and I’ve already complained about him. He works for the Navajo Forestry Department.” She paused and considered others. “Maria Poyer doesn’t like me very much,” Rose said, and explained the circumstances. “But deep down, I think she’s
a good girl. Then there are the ones connected to the power
company, like Bradford Knight and his bosses. I think they would be very happy if a house fell on me,” she added with a tiny smile.
“Do you make enemies everywhere you go?” Justine commented with a chuckle.
“I have to stick up for what’s right. If that means I make some people angry, then that’s the way it’ll have to be.”
Justine nodded slowly. “I can understand that, but from now on, lock
your doors, even during the day. And if you have any more problems, call me right away. You have my direct number, don’t you?”
“Of course. I memorized it and my daughter’s a long time ago.”
After Justine left, Rose checked the time. The chapter house meeting wouldn’t start until eight, but if she got there early, she’d be able to gauge the mood of the people. After giving Two a big soup bone
as a reward, she started toward the door. She was reaching for the knob when the phone rang.
“Mrs. Destea, this is Bradford Knight,” the speaker said. “I was wondering if I could stop by and take a look at your notes and data on the native plants situation. I’m going to recommend that certain plants be used to reclaim some of the problem areas, but I want to make sure I’m not suggesting the use
of rare or endangered plants.”
“My report is still being drafted, but even if that weren’t the case, it’s for the council’s use, so it’s not mine to share.”
“They were planning to send us a copy of the finished report anyway. I was just trying to make sure we weren’t working against each other.”
She took a deep breath, then let it out again. “I understand, but my report is nothing more than
handwritten notes and sketches at the moment,” she admitted.
“That’s fine, I don’t mind. May I come over and take a look, then?”
His insistence made her uneasy. “No, I’m sorry, Mr. Knight. My work just isn’t ready for anyone else to see right now. I’d have to sit down and explain some of my shorthand and symbols before it would even come close to making sense to you.”
“We could work on it
together. I have time tonight,” he pressed.
“I don’t, I’m sorry. Right now I’m going to attend a local chapter house meeting.”
“Tomorrow morning, then?”
“No, that won’t work for me either. I need to make a special trip to see a friend of mine. He’s an expert on native plants—even more so than I am in some respects.”
“Maybe he can help me. Could you give me his name?”
She hated the use of
names, but when dealing with the Anglo world, it was often unavoidable. “Charlie Dodge,” she said.
“I know Charlie. Maybe we can all meet at his home over by Teec Nos Pos.”
“Mr. Knight, I’m going to be late. Have a nice evening,” she said, hating the way he didn’t take no for an answer.
“Very well. Good night, Mrs. Destea,” he said coldly.
Rose picked up her keys and went out the door, locking
it securely. Two was on the front porch now, lying in the shade beside one of his water dishes. He knew he wasn’t going with her, and she hated to lock him in the house this time of year. It could feel stifling in the late afternoon even with evaporative cooling.
As Rose drove off, she mentally prepared herself for the chapter house meeting. Tonight, she intended to make her presence known. She’d
tell everyone about the land and the Plant People, and make sure that they knew the truth. No one would pull the wool over the
Dineh’s
eyes while she was around.
W
hen Rose arrived at the chapter house, the colorful Navajo flag was flying high from the single flagpole in front of the building. As she parked, she could see several of the Plant Watchers gathered near the front doors. Sadie was with them.
Rose stepped down from her pickup and glanced around as she walked toward the small crowd gathered in front of the building. This time of
year it was always hotter inside the building than out, and as usual most smart Navajos were waiting until the last moment to enter.
Curtis Largo was leaning against the side of a Forestry Department pickup talking to a group of modernists, judging from the way they were dressed. Seeing Largo wave at someone across the parking lot, she curiously turned to see who it was and was surprised to see
Professor Willie just exiting his SUV. He waved back at Largo, then, seeing her, walked over.
“I hope you don’t mind my being here, Mrs. Destea. I heard of the meeting, and I accepted an invitation to attend from one of the nursery employees.”
“Which one?” she asked, unable to repress her curiosity despite realizing it might be considered rude.
“Curtis Largo. We met someplace or the other
several years ago,” he answered. “Mr. Largo called me earlier and said that my scientific expertise might come in handy tonight. Of course, he doesn’t know I’m already working with you.”
“Do you plan to tell him?” Rose noted out of the corner of her eye that Largo was watching them.
“I’m going to surprise him with the news tonight,” he said with a smile.
Rose laughed. “Good luck.”
As Willie
walked off to talk to an obviously curious Largo, Rose went over to where Jane Jim was standing. Jane was wearing a long indigo skirt and a white satin top. The blouse, which wasn’t tucked in, was held close at the waist by a shiny concha belt. Her other jewelry, a large silver and turquoise squash blossom necklace with matching earrings, was traditional as well. “You look very nice tonight,” Rose
said.
“I’m going out after the meeting,” Jane said, a touch of pride in her voice. “My daughter and I are having dinner in Farmington. I seldom get to see her these days. You’re lucky to have your daughter and granddaughter living at home.”
“I am,” Rose agreed with a nod. “They’re away for the weekend right now, and the house sure feels empty without them.”
“My daughter lives in Santa Fe, and
rarely comes down except on holidays. I asked if she wanted to attend the chapter meeting so you could all see her, but she’s getting together with old friends instead. At least we can visit later on tonight.”
Rose nodded. “That’ll be something you can look forward to, and a lot more fun than what lies ahead for us here,” she said, gesturing to the groups already forming—factions, some would
have said.
“I wish our Plant Watcher friend wasn’t in the hospital. She would have loved to have been here,” Jane said.
“I’m going to go see her tonight after this meeting ends,” Rose said. “I think she needs the company—and to know we all miss her.”
Jane nodded. “I agree. I was there earlier today, and I got the same feeling. She wanted to know everything that was going on. I took that as
a good sign.”
“Have the doctors come up with any medical reason for her illness?”
“She said they’d found her to be anemic, but that they didn’t think that alone was bad enough to cause her sudden weakness and dizziness.”
“Our friend needs a
hataalii
more than she does a medical doctor,” Rose said with a sigh.
Jane nodded. “She said that your son had stopped by, and that a hand trembler has
been called and would be coming very soon.”
Rose felt a wave of relief wash over her. Lena would get the help she needed now. Sara had come through for her, just as Rose had known she would.
As everyone began to go inside, Rose followed the crowd. Glancing around the room, she noticed that the modernists preferred the front-row seats, while the traditionalists gravitated toward the back. That
sign of division troubled her, so she took a seat as close to the middle as possible.
As everyone took their seats, the committee president opened the meeting, standing in front of a microphone to speak. Old business was taken care of first, then arguments between families about rights within the grazing districts had to be settled. Speakers were recognized in turn by the presiding official,
and they were given the choice to use the microphone or stand and speak from their chairs. Finally, Curtis Largo was introduced and took the floor, fidgeting with his bolo tie as he began speaking.
“Most of us are here tonight because we’re worried about what will become of our land. I won’t attempt to argue on behalf of the power companies, because we can all see that most of their reclamation
efforts have fallen short of the agreed-upon goals or failed completely. But it’s not too late. They’re working with us now—with the
Dineh.”
He cleared his throat and continued, his hands now crossed over his chest. “Most of you know that I work for the tribe’s Forestry Department. But to give our best to this new reclamation effort, I’ve also enlisted the help of those we call the Plant Watchers.
I’ve been working closely with that group and, with their expert advice, we
will
find ways to successfully reclaim those areas that have been stripped of everything except Russian thistle and snakeweed.”
Rose stood, and was recognized by the man conducting the meeting. She began by introducing herself, though most knew exactly who she was from previous meetings. “I am called Rose Destea, of the
Red Yaibitchai People, born for the Water’s Edge Clan. You’ve heard the last speaker tell everyone that he and the Plant Watchers are working together. But that’s not so.”
A murmur went around the room, and she waited a few seconds before continuing.
“It’s true that he was hired by the tribe, but he’s yet to actually work with me or the others on anything. The Plant Watchers have met twice in
the past week to discuss the problems and the man who just spoke was absent both times. Several of the Plant Watchers have walked miles across tribal land, taking stock of the condition the Plant People are in. The man who just spoke has never come with us to help. And tonight he’s tried to reassure you with empty promises of success. But those of us who have actually gone out and looked know just
how much danger our land is facing. Some of our native plants are disappearing.”
There was a rumble of voices now. Rose knew that people
were angry now—some at Largo and others at her, but the truth had to be told. “I’m not the only one who sees that we’re in a crisis situation. The other Plant Watchers know, and even the Anglo ecologist from the power company said as much to me once in an unguarded
moment.”
Curtis, who had remained standing beside the microphone, waited until she sat down, then he spoke again, anger flashing in his eyes. “Brad Knight, the Anglo ecologist, is working hard to correct the problems facing us, just as we all are in our separate ways. Mr. Knight has studied the problem and come up with several proposals that are scientifically sound and make good sense. Unfortunately,
Mrs. Destea and a few others want all the reclamation work to be done using only native plants. That’s not practical in terms of time or expense.”
Rose took her turn. “We’ve never said that only native plants had to be used. But it would be wise to protect our resources by encouraging the growth and reintroduction of plants that are native to our area. Those who failed in their attempt to reclaim
certain areas need to learn from their mistakes. It’s even more expensive and time-consuming to use the wrong plants, and have them die when they’re no longer cared for and watered regularly.”
“The power plants have tried to use native plants, but as most of us know, they do not replant well,” Curtis countered without waiting to be recognized. “Most die once disturbed.”
“This is where special
knowledge is necessary,” Rose added. “We have varieties within varieties. It’s a matter of knowing what plant to choose for the new conditions. Lamb’s-quarter, for example, is a kind of goosefoot. It grows tall and needs lots of water. Galleta grass, on the other hand, is tough. It can survive no matter how dry it gets.”
An elderly Navajo at the back of the room stood up and waited to be called
upon. “The Anglo companies made us a
promise when they began to strip-mine. They said they’d put things back the way they were when they were through mining. Now the only things that grow in the land they supposedly reclaimed is snakeweed that poisons livestock, or cheatgrass that hurts them when they eat. Something has to be done.”
“So why can’t more suitable native plants, like the ones the
Plant Watcher suggested, be introduced to the areas that need to be replanted?” a young Navajo woman sitting in one of the front seats suggested.
“The plants aren’t always available, for one,” Largo said.
“That’s true,” Rose replied. “It may take time to find the right plants. But if we cultivate these areas carefully by choosing native plants that will feed our animals, and, in turn, ourselves,
we would be doing the tribe a great service as well as repairing the damage that has been done.”
As Rose sat down, she saw the cold look Largo gave her. She wanted to be angry with him in return, but she couldn’t quite manage it. Life was hard for those like Largo who had lost contact with their heritage and roots. The color of their skin and their features marked them as Navajo, but their minds
told them they were Anglo. Theirs was the hardest road to follow. They wanted to be part of a culture that would never fully accept them.
The discussion went on for another hour, but when the meeting finally ended, Rose felt satisfied that she’d made her point clear. After saying good-bye to her friends, she walked slowly to her truck and slipped behind the driver’s wheel. Tired and ready to
go home, she reached up to adjust the rearview mirror, and caught a glimpse of Willie—Professor Hoff—speaking to Maria Poyer.
Because he was neither a Navajo nor a member of that chapter, he could not actively participate in chapter house business unless invited to do so.
Intrigued, she watched them for a moment. Their conversation seemed very intent. Then Maria turned and walked to a tan truck,
much like the one that had followed her twice before.
As Maria got under way. Rose climbed back out of the truck, and unable to suppress the instinct that urged her to investigate, she studied the tire tracks left by Maria’s truck.
She pulled out the sketch that she carried in her purse. The impressions appeared similar to the one in her drawing, down to the little diamond shapes on the treads
and the pairs of diagonal marks in alternating rows. Of course, that alone didn’t really prove anything. The truth was that there were at least three other tan pickups in the parking area. She checked the tires of the closest one and found similar tread marks. Rose wrote down the brand name and number codes which would identify a specific tire type. But the coincidence of finding the right combination
of color and tread mark on the truck Maria drove made her wonder. Rose made a mental note to watch Maria, and maybe even Professor Hoff, more closely from now on.
Suddenly realizing what time it was. Rose hurried back to her truck and drove quickly to the hospital. It was late and undoubtedly past visiting hours, but with luck, they’d let her come in for a short visit—if Lena wasn’t already asleep.
At the hospital, Rose walked purposefully down the hallway. The staff didn’t generally stop anyone who appeared to belong there. Moments later, she reached Lena’s room and went inside.
Lena was awake, and the television set was on, but she was staring absently across the room. Hearing Rose approach, Lena turned her head and gave her a weak smile. “I’m glad you came. I’ve been wanting to talk
to you.”
“I’m here,” Rose said quietly, sitting next to Lena’s bed. “I can’t tell you how much I miss you.” Rose told her about the meeting she’d just attended. “I just couldn’t believe that man,
actually telling people that we were working close together when he hadn’t even seen me since he got the job.”
“Now he’s going to be angry, and you can be certain that he’ll do his best to discredit
you.”
“Perhaps, but he’ll have to regain some credibility after tonight, and I’ll fight him every step of the way.” Rose looked at Lena and, in her heart, knew that her friend was growing worse instead of better. Fear crept into her heart, but she tried her best to push it back and not let it show. “And you have to get well, old friend. I miss you and I need you to help me fight for the Plant
People.”
Lena nodded wearily. “I’m just so tired lately.”
“Then maybe you should rest,” Rose said, standing up. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“Before you go … have you seen
Cháala?”
she asked using the Navajo name for Charlie.
Rose knew she was talking about Charlie Dodge. Lena and he were good friends. “Not today. Why?”
“The other day when he visited, he promised to come back today with a some
‘gray knotted medicine.’ The doctors said I could have some. They call it horehound and they seemed to think it was okay if I made a tea from it.”

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