place
Chogan wanted to stay at forever, but he figured as he gained
knowledge, he might go on to advance. He had no desire to be a
journalist, but running the printing press might be something he
could enjoy. For now, he’d bide his time and do his best. One did
not become an expert hunter right away. It took time.
Their supervisor came up to them, so they
looked up.
“Noah, take the mail down to the post office.
Chogan, get some coffee,” the lean, middle-aged man said. “Time to
get the day started.”
Chogan stood to his feet, reluctant to leave
the warmth of the building but determined to prove Larry Bleier didn’t make a mistake when he hired
him. He had no idea how difficult it would be to find employment
when Anthony Perkins took him around town. Chogan suspected that if
Anthony hadn’t been with him, Larry wouldn’t have agreed to give him a chance.
Chogan didn’t like or dislike Larry. The man
wasn’t condescending in his instructions, but there was that note
of authority in his voice that left no room for argument. In some
ways, Chogan respected that about his supervisor. Perhaps the man
was fair. If that was the case, then he might not judge too much on
skin color.
Noah rubbed his hands together as he got to
his feet. “Another day begins.” He smiled and whistled as he headed
for the mail room.
Chogan went about his task and then headed
out for breakfast items the other employees wanted. Even if the
setup was different, it did occur to him that he was out gathering
food as he’d done at the tribe. Only, instead of going out into the
great expanse of the prairie, he made a trip to the bakery.
Once he came out of the bakery with a box of
donuts, he headed down the street back to the Tribune when he
recognized Ernest who laughed at something his male companion said.
The only reason Chogan knew it was Ernest was because he’d seen him
with Julia that day in her house, not too long ago. Julia hadn’t
told him much about Ernest, except that Ernest had once proposed to
her but she hadn’t loved him enough to say yes.
When their paths crossed, Ernest paused from
the conversation he was having with the other man and asked, “Have
I seen you before?”
Chogan was surprised he recognized him at all
without his traditional clothing and long hair. “We meet.
Briefly.”
Ernest studied him, as if trying to place
exactly where and when this took place, and Chogan wasn’t eager to
remind him so he kept quiet. Finally, Ernest shrugged and said,
“All you people look alike to me, though if I’d seen you dressed as
you are now, I would’ve remembered. You’re somewhat out of place,
aren’t you?”
“No more out of place than any other Indian,”
he replied, resisting the urge to look down at Ernest who was three
inches shorter than him. He didn’t care much for the smirk on
Ernest’s face. It reminded him too much of that day when he staked
his claim with Julia. Reminding himself that he won her in the end,
Chogan relented on his annoyance. “I return to work.”
“And where would that be?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Mild curiosity.” Ernest glanced at his
friend and smiled a message that only his friend would understand
before he turned back to Chogan. “A pleasantry. That’s all.”
“Oh. Then I ask where you work.”
The friend laughed. “Quick-witted. I like
it.”
Ernest gave a slight scowl but hid it with
another smile. “Fine. I’m the vice president of a bank. Now, what
do you do?”
“I deliver papers,” Chogan replied.
“Ahh, I see.” He nodded to the box of donuts.
“I also see your job extends beyond delivering newspapers.”
By the way Ernest said it, Chogan knew the
man was putting him down.
Ernest’s friend leaned close to Ernest and
softly said, “To be fair, who else would hire him?”
Had Chogan not been able to read his lips, he
wouldn’t have known what the man said, and he suspected no ill will
from Ernest’s companion, so he turned his attention
Chogan wanted to stay at forever, but he figured as he gained
knowledge, he might go on to advance. He had no desire to be a
journalist, but running the printing press might be something he
could enjoy. For now, he’d bide his time and do his best. One did
not become an expert hunter right away. It took time.
Their supervisor came up to them, so they
looked up.
“Noah, take the mail down to the post office.
Chogan, get some coffee,” the lean, middle-aged man said. “Time to
get the day started.”
Chogan stood to his feet, reluctant to leave
the warmth of the building but determined to prove Larry Bleier didn’t make a mistake when he hired
him. He had no idea how difficult it would be to find employment
when Anthony Perkins took him around town. Chogan suspected that if
Anthony hadn’t been with him, Larry wouldn’t have agreed to give him a chance.
Chogan didn’t like or dislike Larry. The man
wasn’t condescending in his instructions, but there was that note
of authority in his voice that left no room for argument. In some
ways, Chogan respected that about his supervisor. Perhaps the man
was fair. If that was the case, then he might not judge too much on
skin color.
Noah rubbed his hands together as he got to
his feet. “Another day begins.” He smiled and whistled as he headed
for the mail room.
Chogan went about his task and then headed
out for breakfast items the other employees wanted. Even if the
setup was different, it did occur to him that he was out gathering
food as he’d done at the tribe. Only, instead of going out into the
great expanse of the prairie, he made a trip to the bakery.
Once he came out of the bakery with a box of
donuts, he headed down the street back to the Tribune when he
recognized Ernest who laughed at something his male companion said.
The only reason Chogan knew it was Ernest was because he’d seen him
with Julia that day in her house, not too long ago. Julia hadn’t
told him much about Ernest, except that Ernest had once proposed to
her but she hadn’t loved him enough to say yes.
When their paths crossed, Ernest paused from
the conversation he was having with the other man and asked, “Have
I seen you before?”
Chogan was surprised he recognized him at all
without his traditional clothing and long hair. “We meet.
Briefly.”
Ernest studied him, as if trying to place
exactly where and when this took place, and Chogan wasn’t eager to
remind him so he kept quiet. Finally, Ernest shrugged and said,
“All you people look alike to me, though if I’d seen you dressed as
you are now, I would’ve remembered. You’re somewhat out of place,
aren’t you?”
“No more out of place than any other Indian,”
he replied, resisting the urge to look down at Ernest who was three
inches shorter than him. He didn’t care much for the smirk on
Ernest’s face. It reminded him too much of that day when he staked
his claim with Julia. Reminding himself that he won her in the end,
Chogan relented on his annoyance. “I return to work.”
“And where would that be?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Mild curiosity.” Ernest glanced at his
friend and smiled a message that only his friend would understand
before he turned back to Chogan. “A pleasantry. That’s all.”
“Oh. Then I ask where you work.”
The friend laughed. “Quick-witted. I like
it.”
Ernest gave a slight scowl but hid it with
another smile. “Fine. I’m the vice president of a bank. Now, what
do you do?”
“I deliver papers,” Chogan replied.
“Ahh, I see.” He nodded to the box of donuts.
“I also see your job extends beyond delivering newspapers.”
By the way Ernest said it, Chogan knew the
man was putting him down.
Ernest’s friend leaned close to Ernest and
softly said, “To be fair, who else would hire him?”
Had Chogan not been able to read his lips, he
wouldn’t have known what the man said, and he suspected no ill will
from Ernest’s companion, so he turned his attention
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