spite him.”
“Why did your uncle feel that way?”
Linda lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I heard it was something from when he was a kid.”
While Victoria was getting towels from the linen closet, Elizabeth came home. She was still wearing her harbor uniform, tan shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt.
“What a day!” She held out her hand to Linda, who was standing beside the refrigerator. “I’m Elizabeth.”
Linda introduced herself.
“I’m sorry about your uncle.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me.”
“If there’s anything we can do…,” Elizabeth said.
Victoria appeared with towels and soap. “Linda’s going to stay with us until she gets things sorted out.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “That might take a while. At least this house is tidier than your uncle’s.”
Linda smiled. “That’s for sure.”
Victoria gave Linda the towels. “Your uncle had a reputation for being difficult.”
Linda shrugged. “He held grudges forever. Harley and I had to be careful around him.” Linda spoke rapidly and her face was flushed. “Uncle Jube always bragged that he’d get even with whoever, no matter how long it took.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Nice guy,” she said.
Dojan had returned from the morning of setting lobster pots with Obed. His forehead, nose, and arms were sunburned bright red. He carried a bucket of lobsters into the chief’s office at Tribal Headquarters and plunked it down next to the desk. The chief looked up from his paperwork.
“Is this a bad time?” Dojan asked.
“If those lobsters are for me, it’s not a bad time.”
Dojan nodded.
“I’m filling out forms for a federal grant, Dojan. I’m glad to be interrupted.”The chief pushed the papers to one side of his desk, and indicated the chair next to him. “Sit.” He looked into the bucket. In it were four lobsters partially covered with seaweed, claws held together with yellow rubber bands.
“You support a casino.” Dojan stared at the old man. “You want our people to gamble.” He leaned over the chief’s desk. “A white man’s sickness.” He slapped the desk and the chief’s pen bounced and rolled off onto the floor. The chief leaned over and picked it up.
“No, Dojan. I am not promoting a casino. Gambling is poison. Our people have always gambled, and it has always been poison.”
“Why, then?” Dojan jabbed a dirty finger with its raggedly gnawed nail at the application forms on the desk.
“Because our tribe must decide for itself. I visited a casino the other day, I went on the
Pequot,
that boat that takes people directly to the gambling. It takes them cheaply and quickly, so they can throw money at the gaming machines happily. The casino has good food, cheap. Pretty Native American girls, handsome Native American boys, run the games and the machines. The pretty girls and handsome boys make it seem like good clean fun. The young people smile at the foolish old people who want something for nothing. Perhaps it is all right. A nice cruise, good cheap food, a day’s entertainment. All they have lost is money. The casino? It looks like a forest with plastic bears, deer, and beaver. You hear falling water. It’s all a chimera.”
“Why, then, why?” Dojan asked, slapping the desk.
“Who am I to dictate right and wrong to the tribe?”
“You are the chief, our leader.”
“Tribal members are not looking beyond money or glitter. Patience says, ‘a casino means jobs for our young people,’ Peter says, ‘money for education and housing.’ “
“Gambling money is dirty!”
The chief lifted his shoulders. “Sit, Dojan. Sit.” He leaned forward at his desk, his hands clasped, and peered at Dojan through his thick glasses. “Dojan, these are the facts of life. Sit. And listen to me.”
Dojan glowered at him, and when the chief continued to stare back, he dropped his gaze and sat where the chief had told him to sit.
“A casino means more
“Why did your uncle feel that way?”
Linda lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I heard it was something from when he was a kid.”
While Victoria was getting towels from the linen closet, Elizabeth came home. She was still wearing her harbor uniform, tan shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt.
“What a day!” She held out her hand to Linda, who was standing beside the refrigerator. “I’m Elizabeth.”
Linda introduced herself.
“I’m sorry about your uncle.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me.”
“If there’s anything we can do…,” Elizabeth said.
Victoria appeared with towels and soap. “Linda’s going to stay with us until she gets things sorted out.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “That might take a while. At least this house is tidier than your uncle’s.”
Linda smiled. “That’s for sure.”
Victoria gave Linda the towels. “Your uncle had a reputation for being difficult.”
Linda shrugged. “He held grudges forever. Harley and I had to be careful around him.” Linda spoke rapidly and her face was flushed. “Uncle Jube always bragged that he’d get even with whoever, no matter how long it took.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Nice guy,” she said.
Dojan had returned from the morning of setting lobster pots with Obed. His forehead, nose, and arms were sunburned bright red. He carried a bucket of lobsters into the chief’s office at Tribal Headquarters and plunked it down next to the desk. The chief looked up from his paperwork.
“Is this a bad time?” Dojan asked.
“If those lobsters are for me, it’s not a bad time.”
Dojan nodded.
“I’m filling out forms for a federal grant, Dojan. I’m glad to be interrupted.”The chief pushed the papers to one side of his desk, and indicated the chair next to him. “Sit.” He looked into the bucket. In it were four lobsters partially covered with seaweed, claws held together with yellow rubber bands.
“You support a casino.” Dojan stared at the old man. “You want our people to gamble.” He leaned over the chief’s desk. “A white man’s sickness.” He slapped the desk and the chief’s pen bounced and rolled off onto the floor. The chief leaned over and picked it up.
“No, Dojan. I am not promoting a casino. Gambling is poison. Our people have always gambled, and it has always been poison.”
“Why, then?” Dojan jabbed a dirty finger with its raggedly gnawed nail at the application forms on the desk.
“Because our tribe must decide for itself. I visited a casino the other day, I went on the
Pequot,
that boat that takes people directly to the gambling. It takes them cheaply and quickly, so they can throw money at the gaming machines happily. The casino has good food, cheap. Pretty Native American girls, handsome Native American boys, run the games and the machines. The pretty girls and handsome boys make it seem like good clean fun. The young people smile at the foolish old people who want something for nothing. Perhaps it is all right. A nice cruise, good cheap food, a day’s entertainment. All they have lost is money. The casino? It looks like a forest with plastic bears, deer, and beaver. You hear falling water. It’s all a chimera.”
“Why, then, why?” Dojan asked, slapping the desk.
“Who am I to dictate right and wrong to the tribe?”
“You are the chief, our leader.”
“Tribal members are not looking beyond money or glitter. Patience says, ‘a casino means jobs for our young people,’ Peter says, ‘money for education and housing.’ “
“Gambling money is dirty!”
The chief lifted his shoulders. “Sit, Dojan. Sit.” He leaned forward at his desk, his hands clasped, and peered at Dojan through his thick glasses. “Dojan, these are the facts of life. Sit. And listen to me.”
Dojan glowered at him, and when the chief continued to stare back, he dropped his gaze and sat where the chief had told him to sit.
“A casino means more
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