Chapter 6 – BWCA
“Lyn Schulte and Len Schulte, this is Grace Wheeler. She’s staying at Getaway for the time being because of the virus and is looking to get involved in protecting the Boundary Waters.
I told her tonight is her chance. Grace, these are the Schultes, Lyn and Len — they did that to make it easier for people like me who can’t remember names. ” Jim chuckled.
Lyn, an ash blonde in her forties, smiled. “Good to meet you, Grace. Welcome.”
Her husband, another blonde, added, “We’re glad to have you,” Turning to Jim, he said, “How’s business?”
“Well, cancellations have started coming in. We’ll definitely take a hit, but we can survive. Our mortgage is paid off. Others may not be so lucky. Depends on how long it lasts. I haven’t seen any reliable data on that. You?”
Len said, “No. Doc Olson is here. We can pick his brain. Maybe somebody else has heard something. It’s a good turnout. People still coming in. You guys remember the six-foot rule.”
Armed with coffee, they entered the classroom.
They hadn’t gotten far when an attractive, dark-haired man in jeans and a Black Watch plaid flannel shirt stepped in front of Grace, then backed up six feet.
“We haven’t met. I’m Brad Benham, the representative from Ely.
” His gaze was intense behind his black-framed glasses and black mask.
Jim stepped up. “Brad, Jim Pedersen of Getaway Lodge. This is one of my guests, Grace Wheeler. She’s with us because of the pandemic and wants to get involved.”
Brad was quick to acknowledge Jim. “Nice to meet you, Jim.” Then, his eyes shifted back to Grace. “Grace, a pleasure. I’m sure we can use your help. What’s your background?”
“I’m a journalist.”
“Oh, that’s more than interesting,” he nodded. “Right now I’ve got to start this meeting, but we need to talk after. I may have a job for you.” He started to turn but looked back at Jim. “Very nice to meet you, Jim Pedersen,” and walked away.
As Brad moved to the front of the room, people took seats, some at desks, some in chairs, all spaced apart.
Grace and Jim sat in desks near the back.
Brad was introducing himself when Grace saw a tall, masked, dark-haired couple come into the back of the room and sit in chairs close to the door.
One of them was Robby. Grace raised her eyebrows at him.
The woman looked at her. She was attractive. Grace turned back to the front.
Brad caught everyone up on the threat status from Chilean copper mining giant, Antofagasta, and on the current administration’s fondness for regulatory rollbacks.
He outlined the organization’s current focus and their presence in Duluth, Minneapolis, and D.C.
He touched on the ever-present need for funding and opened the floor for questions.
Grace was struck by the articulate and informed comments of the audience.
Overall, she was encouraged. Brad said he would stay a little longer in case there were more questions and would send a follow-up email to all who entered email addresses out front.
He scanned the room, his eyes found Grace, and he was headed in her direction when the woman with Robby stood up, walked quickly toward Brad, and intercepted him.
They greeted each other and started talking.
Jim excused himself to speak to someone who was about to leave. Grace had stood up to meet Brad. Instead, she watched him and the woman, then she felt a hand on her lower back and turned. It was Robby. He didn’t move his hand so when she turned, she came up against him.
He looked down at her. She could tell by his eyes he was smiling. “Hi. Play nice now — don’t make a scene. Good to see you again.” He let her go. She stepped back a little.
“Good to see you here.”
“Good meeting. I’m glad we came. I don’t want to hang out too long, though I feel safe with this crowd .
. . kinda like the library — but I want you to meet my sister Bella, the attorney I told you about.
” He nodded in the direction of the tall woman talking to Brad.
“I called her about this meeting, and she was already coming. She knows this guy. He’s an attorney too, environmental law. ”
Just then, there were nods between the two attorneys, they turned, and to their mutual surprise — they looked at each other with raised eyebrows — both headed towards Grace and Robby.
Robby didn’t move away from Grace. “Bella, this is Grace Wheeler, the woman I mentioned who told me about the meeting.” He turned to Grace. “My sister Bella Songetay.”
“I’m pleased to meet anybody who can get my brother interested in something outside of pop culture.
Maybe some good will come of this pandemic yet.
” She turned to Robby. “Let’s go. I need to get home.
” To Grace, she said, “Maybe we’ll see each other again.
” To Brad, “Keep in touch.” He nodded. Bella walked off.
Robby looked after her. “That’s my sister.” He looked at Grace. “Good to see you. Gotta go — she’s my ride. I went to pick her up, but she refused to get in my truck.” He laughed, looked at Brad and said, “You’re waiting for me to leave, I think. She’s all yours. Good luck.”
Robby strode off, stopping momentarily to say something to Jim who was talking to an older man. She could hear them laughing as she turned to Brad, who was looking on with an expression that was hard-to-read just from his eyes. Confused? Amused?
But he looked at Grace and took a breath. “Let’s start with what you do and where.”
“Okay. I’m from the coast of South Carolina and work for a twice weekly newspaper. I have for several years. I cover local issues and politics, but I’ve done most everything — photography, reviews, editing, opinion pieces — it’s a small operation. I’m particularly good at interviews.”
“And you’re still employed there?”
“Yes, but the paper’s gone to once-a-week because of pandemic issues, so I don’t have as much work . . . or pay.”
“Everyone’s got problems now.” Grace nodded.
“We need someone to do both the weekly blog and interact with the media — not social media, we’ve got that covered.
We anticipate the mainstream media aspect will ramp up as things progress with these Chilean companies.
I know this is unconventional — it’s an unconventional time — would you be willing to take a trial run at this, starting now? ”
“Maybe.” She asked some employment questions, then said, “Can you send me some recent blog posts and media releases?”
“I will. Tonight. And I’ll compose a temporary document with that initial compensation figure. You send me your resumé and references. How does thirty days sound to you? Maybe we can get something in place before the week’s over.”
“Sounds good. My contact information is on the sheet out front. I’ll send my resumé and references tonight and get started on a blog post as soon as I read what you send me.”
“Great. We don’t expect to publish one this week — they come out on Fridays, submitted to the editor on Wednesdays . . .” He paused, took a breath, dropping his shoulders and softening his gaze. “If we go forward with this, you’ll need to come to Ely and meet everyone.”
“That might be hard with the virus.”
“True, but I’ll do my best to make it happen.
” Grace could tell he was smiling. “Oh, here’s my card.
Thank you . . . we’re nothing without the media, so you could make a big difference.
I know I feel better already.” He looked at her.
“I’ve got to talk to the organizers. Thanks, again.
” He turned and walked over to a group in a big circle.
Grace looked down at his card, Benham and Reed, Attorneys at Law. Jim appeared at her elbow. She looked up. “I’ll tell you outside.”