St. Clair (Gives Light Series) (28 page)

hijack the airwaves?"

"I'll help," Sarah said.

"Me too," Sage In Winter said.

"I'm sure we can work something out of this mess,"

Aubrey said kindly.

If our parents and grandparents noticed anything

unusual over the next few days--like a huge group

of kids camping outside the radio tower, quilts and

kindling fires and all the works--they never

mentioned it. By day I sat on the studio floor with

Annie and Zeke while Aubrey, Sarah Two Eagles,

and Sage In Winter messed with the consoles. I

definitely didn't understand what the heck those

three were doing, especially when they started

talking among themselves about oscillators and

algorithms. Annie watched Aubrey with lovey-

dovey eyes. Zeke and I mostly spent our time

teasing her.

"Man, we can't keep doing this, though," Zeke

complained one night. We sat underneath the stars,

serenaded by the plashing of the lake's dark

waters, and built a small fire out of forest brush.

"We've got nine days. Nine days! It's like that

song!"

I had no idea what song he was talking about.

"And then we're gonna have to go back to school

soon. We're heroes, we shouldn't have to go to

school!"

"Robin and Superboy and Impulse all have to go to

school, and they're superheroes," Siobhan Stout

pointed out.

"Who are those jerks?"

"You never read the Young Justice comics?"

"Do I look like I read?!"

I swung my duffel bag at Zeke's head.

Rafael came over to the small kindling fire and sat

with us, looking disgruntled. "Annie and Aubrey

are still in there," he said, jerking his head back in

the direction of the recording studio. "If Sage and

the Tyke weren't with 'em, I'd swear they were up

to something else."

Rafael always called Sarah Two Eagles "the

Tyke." Neither one of us knows why.

"Raffy!"

Mary came running over to our makeshift camp,

her teased hair flopping around her head. Rafael

unfolded his legs and stood.

"Save it," Rafael said gruffly. "You can tell Uncle

Gabe I'll come home when the reservation's safe."

"Not that, dufus. Rosa popped!"

That Mary sure had a way with words.

Rafael's face went slack with apprehension; I saw

it in the wavering light from the kindling fire.

"She...seriously? But--"

"I know, I know, it's early still. We didn't even put

up her isolation tent. Uncle Gay brought her to the

hospital. She's in delivery." Her eyebrows

danced lewdly. "Wanna come toss your cookies?"

Rafael looked to me for confirmation. It was kind

of flattering, but I didn't know what he expected me

to do.

"C'mon," he finally said, and grabbed my hand.

"Name the kid after me!" Zeke said. "Ahahahaha--

"

We followed Mary down the long route to the

hospital. The communal firepit was still lit for the

night, the thick, rich scent of cinders wafting

throughout the reservation.

We burst through the hospital's sliding glass doors.

"Cut it out!" Ms. Bright said.

Mary led Rafael and me to the neonatal ward in the

western half of the hospital. A nurse on duty

looked up and gave us a doofy smile.

We found Gabriel pacing wanly outside the

delivery room doors.

"Times like these are when I wish men were

allowed inside," Gabriel said.

In the Shoshone world, it's forbidden for men to be

present at a baby's birth. Even the doctor or the

midwife has to be a female. That's why Shoshone

women still build isolation tents when they're

getting close to their delivery date. In fact, it's

kind of surprising that the hospital even has a

neonatal ward, considering how little use it must

see.

"You've gotta sit down," Rafael said. "Isn't there a

waiting room around here somewhere?"

Mary stood playing with the water cooler.

"Hey," the doofy nurse protested.

I grabbed Gabriel's arm and pointed at the waiting

room door. Rafael grabbed his other arm, and we

pulled him inside.

The waiting room was mostly empty. The few

people sitting in there were staff members who

must have realized they could hide from their

bosses by utilizing the least populous part of the

hospital. Rafael and I forced Gabriel into a seat.

Gabriel moaned with anxiety. Poor guy. Mary

found a second water cooler to play with. Nobody

thought to tell her off this time.

"What if something's wrong?" Gabriel said.

"Like what?" Mary asked. "The baby's born with

two heads?"

"Mary," Rafael admonished, teeth gritted.

Gabriel looked like he was about to throw up.

"Here," Rafael said hastily. He leaned over and

messed with the standing radio. "Listen to some

country music."

Country music wasn't what streamed out of the

speakers.

"They're trying to take our reservation away," Sage

In Winter's voice said. "They're going to knock all

our houses down to build a--"

"A highway, maybe," Sarah Two Eagles' voice

said.

"Right, and there's already a highway, and this isn't

fair. This is our home. Where are we supposed to

go?"

Rafael tossed me a scandalized look. He shut the

radio off.

Gabriel surveyed Rafael shrewdly. "Raf," he

said. "Was that--"

"No," Rafael said quickly.

Gabriel looked at me. I smiled angelically. To

our great fortune, he didn't get the chance to

interrogate us, because a doctor with pinned hair

suddenly walked into the waiting room.

"Mr. Gray Rain?"

Gabriel jumped up. "Are they okay?"

"Can I have the placenta?" Mary asked.

"Right this way, please," the doctor said.

Gabriel and Mary followed her out of the room.

Rafael looked sideways at me. He struck me as

kind of skittish, like he wasn't sure whether he was

allowed to accompany them. I shook my head with

disbelief. I pulled him out of his chair and put my

hands against his back, herding him down the

hallway.

Rosa was in a clean white hospital bed, her round

face glowing and beautiful, a tiny, squirming

bundle in her arms. There was an almost tangible

current on the air, something intense, something I

can't describe. Gabriel took two steps closer to

the bed. He bent his head to kiss his daughter, then

his wife; then his daughter again. We were all

spellbound. Even Mary was behaving herself.

"I wanna hold my sister," Rafael said.

"
I
haven't even held her yet," Gabriel said,

sounding tremulous.

Charity Gray Rain was born three weeks early in

late winter, six pounds, seven ounces. She had

round cheeks, an imperious yawn, and a very

doting family. And I hoped--I knew--her life was

going to be very different from her namesake's.

"Quiet, please, while I take attendance."

I couldn't believe there was still school when the

reservation was scheduled for a steamrolling in

seven days. I should have known. School doesn't

stop for cancer; why would it stop for the end of

the world?

Mr. Red Clay bent his head over his lectern,

marking our names in his little white book. Most

of the students were shifting restlessly in their

seats. Siobhan Stout turned her back on her table

to whisper with Autumn Rose In Winter. Annie,

sitting next to me, looked very tired.

Mr. Red Clay looked up from his notebook. He

pursed his lips with disapproval. "Where's

Rafael?"

His aunt and uncle just had a baby
, I signed.

"Unless Rafael was their surrogate, that's no

excuse to miss school."

Zeke groaned. I didn't blame him. Going to school

when the reservation was in danger felt like a total

waste of time. I was tempted to just get up and

walk out. I couldn't, though. I'm not like Rafael; I

need people's approval. That's kind of pathetic, I

know.

A faint rumbling sounded outside our windows. I

probably wouldn't have noticed it if not for the

silence in the schoolhouse.

Annie and I looked at one another, Annie frowning

with uncertainty. The rumbling didn't sound

mechanical; more like...a very concentrated

conversation, a loud one, but too distant to pick up

on. Mr. Red Clay noticed it, too. He put his

pencil down and walked over to the east-facing

window, sliding it open. I guessed Rafael had

fixed it after all.

"What the..."

It was all the permission we needed. Half of us

crowded at the window to peer outside with Mr.

Red Clay. The other half rushed out the doors.

I held Annie's hand as we stood below the school

steps, gazing through the pinyon trees. I held my

left hand over my eyes. "I don't see anything,"

Annie told me. "What was Mr. Red Clay looking

at?"

I pointed east. I felt Annie's hand tighten around

mine.

We ran together, Annie's sundress flying about her

knees. We dashed from the school road to the

main road, then down to the unlit firepit. We

skidded to a halt. Annie nearly flopped right out of

her sandals and I put my arm around her back,

steadying her.

The reservation was filled to the brim with

strangers. I took in the incredible sight of them

all. Old men in flannel shirts, teenage girls who

were obviously supposed to be in school right

now--I tried counting heads and couldn't.

"My goodness..." Annie started shaking her head.

"Let's go find your grandmother."

We snaked around the firepit, the throng of

strangers difficult to navigate. Finally we made it

back to my lawn, where Granny's loom stood

abandoned. Granny was standing by the sundial,

talking to a middle-aged blonde in a fanny pack.

"It's just ridiculous," said the woman as Annie and

I drew closer. "What kind of country is this when

they can snap up our homes at a moment's notice?"

"That's what I've been saying!" Granny retorted

emphatically.

"Well, Rod and I are coming back here every day.

I'd like to see them try and explain themselves to

all these people."

Mr. Little Hawk came walking over to us. His

fishing boat lay abandoned next to Granny's loom.

"Annie?" he said, sounding as confused as a five-

year-old. "Why aren't you in school?"

"Mr. Red Clay said it's alright to leave," Annie

lied impeccably.

But Mr. Red Clay came charging up the lawn

toward us now. Oh, boy, I thought, and considered

diving behind the pinyon trees.

"What were you
thinking
!"

"Caias," Granny said, "do you honestly think the

children can focus on their studies when they're

worried sick? Let it go already!"

"Skylar, come with me," Annie said. "Let's go

make sure Lila and Joseph are alright."

We walked back to the schoolhouse, where most

of the students were still gathered outside. We

found Lila and Joseph on the playground out back,

Lila pushing Joseph on the rope swings.

Lila shrugged when she saw us. "Whatever's going

on's got nothing to do with me."

It was the same song and dance over the next

couple of days. Strangers came to the reservation

from all over Arizona to offer their support and

some words of encouragement. A couple of them

carried handmade signs. Some of them even

brought collapsible camping tents, and Mr. At

Dawn led them out to the windmill field and

helped set them up for an overnight stay. This was

crazy, I thought. Crazy, but cool. How cool is it

that all these people cared enough to help us? The

Shoshone, obviously touched, provided their

guests with boiled blue corn and roasted quail, elk

steak and sagebread and frybread. Dinners in

Nettlebush were always a group project; but those

dinners were really something, thousands and

thousands of people squished into the community

center, sharing the warmth of the bonfire. I didn't

know what to make of it all.

"Nettlebush feels like a theme park," DeShawn