Chapter 14 #3
“In that way, yes,” he said, the smile fading.
“But in many other ways, it wasn’t. Take the school—one building for everything.
It felt like there were as many cracks in the walls as there were books in the library.
Most kids didn’t think about finishing high school, let alone college.
They just wanted to get off the island.”
“Why?”
“Jobs are scarce, the poverty is generational, and medical care . . . well, it’s almost nonexistent.” He paused, growing somber. “My mother was diabetic. She couldn’t get the health care she needed and passed away when I was eight.”
Scout glanced at him. “I’m so sorry, Naki.”
He nodded, his voice steady but quiet. “My father never said much about it, but knowing her death could’ve been prevented if she’d received better care hurt him deeply. It hurt all of us.”
Scout swallowed the lump in her throat. “But you made it to Harvard.”
“I got accepted, but the whole town made it happen. They pooled together what little they had to help pay my expenses. Not because I was anything special but because I had been given an opportunity.”
He was being modest. She knew how special he was.
“They wanted me to go, but they wanted me to come back too.”
“And you did.”
“I did,” he said, “but too many of our teens leave the island and never return. I don’t blame them. But I want to change that. It’s good to get off the island, but it’s even better to come back with something to give. To make the community stronger.”
Scout was struck by the quiet determination in his voice. “What are you doing to change things?”
“Whatever I can. I mentor kids, help with the youth programs, teach skills that might actually give them opportunities. It’s slow, but I see progress.
Some of them are starting to believe they can make a difference without leaving everything behind.
” He looked at her then, his dark eyes meeting hers.
“The problems among Native Americans are serious ones. Besides the poverty and inadequate medical care, there’s alcoholism and drug use, lack of higher education, embezzlement within tribes.
Then the century-old one with damage that continues to ripple—when our children were stolen from us and sent to boarding schools to erase their heritage.
That’s why I’m committed to advocating for my people through public policy.
It’s the most effective way I know to make positive changes.
” His voice trailed off as he added, “Second only to the work of God.”
Listening to him, she felt just . . . gobsmacked. That was the only word for it. She’d never known someone like him. Someone so selfless.
As they crossed the bridge, her gaze shifted to the island itself. And to be perfectly honest, her heart sank.
They drove past a smoke shop, a casino, a small corner grocery store.
A group of kids chased each other near the corner store.
An elderly man sitting on a bench waved at Naki, who raised a hand in return.
A few people lingered on porches or leaned against buildings, chatting.
Yards cluttered with broken bicycles and rusting car parts spilled onto poorly paved streets.
The houses were small, many of them worn and in need of paint.
She felt an ache in her chest. This place was Naki’s home. A world so different from hers.
“Park over there,” Naki said, gesturing toward a small building with a weathered wooden sign in Penobscot. Scout couldn’t read it, but she noted the pride in the hand-carved letters.
She pulled into the gravel lot and cut the engine.
“Uh-oh,” he said, looking through the windshield. “Brace yourself.”
Scout had been trying to zip up her ranger jacket over the gold boxes. She wasn’t about to leave them in the jeep. “Why?”
He unbuckled his seat belt. “Here comes my father,” he said, stepping out of the jeep.
The man approaching them was an older version of Naki—not quite as tall, not quite as broad in the shoulders, his long black hair streaked with gray.
Slowly, Scout got out of the jeep, but she stayed on her side.
He spoke to Naki in a soft, rolling cadence, a language Scout didn’t understand, but she didn’t need a translation to know she was part of the conversation.
The older man’s dark eyes flicked to her more than once.
Instinctively, Scout glanced down at her ranger uniform. Great. So official looking. He probably thought she was here on some bureaucratic errand, filing complaints or asking questions no one wanted to answer.
Behind Naki and his father, Scout noticed a woman step out of the small store to watch them with an intensity that made her stomach tighten.
She recognized her from the library event.
Hard not to. This woman was striking, with waist-length black hair, sharp, elegant features, and a presence that seemed carved from something older, deeper.
Like Naki, her facial features were placid.
But unlike Naki, something in the woman’s eyes was hostile.
And just like at the library, Scout became painfully aware of herself—her fair skin already turning pink despite repeated layers of sunscreen, her hair held back by a silly pink ribbon, her too-round blue eyes that always made her look slightly startled.
This woman looked like she should be at Naki’s side.
She belonged, fitting into his world in a way Scout obviously didn’t.
This, she realized, must be how it feels to be a minority in America. An outsider, looking in.
“Scout,” Naki said, breaking her out of her thoughts, “this is my father, Sakwasis Dana.”
Scout came around the jeep, extending a hand, her left hand protectively against her bulky abdomen. “How do you do, Mr. Dana, sir?”
Sakwasis looked at her outstretched hand and grabbed it with both hands. “You are the one who found our gold.”
Ah. So that’s the vibe she’d been picking up on. “Actually, sir, your son has been instrumental in finding all the gold.” She knew that wasn’t really what was on his mind. It was who would get the gold.
Naki intervened, answering his father in their language. Then he turned to her. “Let’s go to my office.”
Before they could cross the street, the woman from the store stepped into Naki’s path and spoke to him in the same language, her dark eyes appraising Scout in a way that was definitely not friendly.
Naki responded in their language, his reply much shorter than whatever she had just said. Then he turned to Scout. “This is Molly Atwul,” he said.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Scout said, but she didn’t extend her hand. There was a look in Molly’s eyes that telegraphed, Go back to where you came from.
“Pardon us, Molly,” Naki said, steering Scout by the elbow to pass around her.
As they continued down the sidewalk toward his office, she cut her eyes at him. “Taking a wild guess—Molly is your girlfriend?”
“Was,” Naki said.
That was all he had to say about it. One word. Which only sparked a million questions. She let out a silent sigh. Questions that would go unanswered.
As they reached a two-story wooden building, Naki turned to her before he opened the door, his face extra serious, if that was possible. “Scout,” he said, his voice low. “I believe this is the right thing to do, but I also believe you might not think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come and see.”
She followed him into the building. Inside, the air smelled faintly of wood smoke.
He opened the door to an office and let her go in first. Her eyes immediately went to the walls, lined with shelves packed with books.
Above the shelves were bulletin boards, each one thumbtacked with a map of Maine—aerial, maritime—red flags were pinned along the coast. Shipwrecks, Scout imagined.
Her gaze continued to the window, where sunlight streamed in, illuminating motes of dust. And then she realized a man was sitting at one of the two desks.
“Hello, Scout.”
Her breath caught. That voice. She hadn’t heard it in years.
She stared, her mind spinning. “Dad?” Her voice cracked on the word.
It sounded foreign in her mouth, like a relic from another life.
She felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath her, leaving her weightless, unsteady.
Her father’s face—a little older but unmistakable—looked back at her with a tentative smile.
Her father stood slowly, as if any rapid movement might cause her to bolt, like a nervous songbird.
She couldn’t breathe. A flood of emotions—shock, anger, confusion, hope—collided within her, leaving her unable to speak. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She glanced at Naki, who stood silently beside her, his eyes full of concern.
He had known. He had brought her here for this. Not to share his life with her. Not to have her meet his people. “Your partner?”
Slowly, he nodded.
How dare he!
“Gentlemen, please excuse me,” she whispered finally, her voice shaky. “Ranger Rivers will be expecting the gold.” She turned on her heel, heading to the jeep as fast as she could. She drove back to Acadia National Park, hands trembling all the way there.
One-sided text between Scout and her mother:
Scout
Finally getting back to you, Mother. Sorry for the delay. It’s been crazy busy here. Too much to text.
Also, I saw Dad today.
She hit send before she could second-guess herself, then powered down her phone completely.