Chapter 9 - Marie #3
Grace needed a break . . . and clean clothes.
She sighed, closed her laptop, stuffed all the laundry into a dirty pillowcase, and walked to the laundry building.
As soon as she pushed the door open, her nose was assaulted by the heavy smell of roses.
She nearly gagged. Kirsten was folding towels at the big table in the center of the room, the only other person there.
She looked up to see who’d come in, then back at a dark blue hand towel.
She was dressed neatly in jeans, a white lodge t-shirt, and clean white sneakers.
Her blonde hair was in one thick, lovely side braid.
Grace walked behind her to the row of washing machines, saying as she passed, “I’m surprised I didn’t find you passed out on the floor from rose fumes.
” No response. Grace thought that was odd, but remembered Kirsten was shy, or maybe she really liked roses.
Grace took the detergent and her iPad out of the pillowcase, then shook the laundry onto the floor and began sorting it into two machines, lights and darks.
When the machines were going, she went over by Kirsten and leaned back against the table, holding her iPad to her chest. She noticed Kirsten’s mouth was pressed into a straight line.
She didn’t look at Grace, and she didn’t speak.
She just kept folding, now a stack of washcloths.
“Are you just shy or have I done something to offend you?”
Kirsten looked up, but straight ahead, not at Grace. “I’m not that shy, but I don’t want to be your friend.” She went back to folding.
“Oh . . . Gee . . . I don’t think anyone’s said that to me since kindergarten.” Grace watched Kirsten, like she did people she interviewed. She saw her shift her weight from one foot to the other, then back again, then she started folding faster. “Will you tell me why?”
Kirsten looked up again, still not facing Grace. “A person’s choice of friends says a lot about them.”
Grace’s brows drew together in honest confusion. “I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t been here long enough to have friends, I mean aside from y’all here and Robby and Margie and Charlie at the Lakeside. Who are you talking about?”
“Those last three.”
There was silence.
“Let me make sure I understand.” Grace struggled to remain calm.
She could do this. She could treat this like an interview with someone whose views were antithetical to hers, or like a blog post she had to keep herself out of.
She didn’t have to get personally involved.
“So, you aren’t going to be friends with anybody who associates with Native Americans?
Have I got that correct?” Kirsten nodded.
“How bout Black Americans?” Another nod.
“Latinos?” Nod. “So you’re a racist. A white supremacist.”
Kirsten faced Grace. “I’m a Patriot. A real American.”
“And Native Americans, from whom we stole this country, are not real Americans?”
“They’re inferior, or we couldn’t have done that. And they’re proving it with alcohol and drug addiction and poverty. They’re sucking money and jobs away from real Americans, just like the other inferior races you named and more.”
“How many Native Americans do you know to form this opinion?”
Kirsten looked away, then down at the washcloths. They were all folded. She pushed them aside and reached for the dishcloths. “I don’t have to know them. The evidence is everywhere.”
“So you hate Robby? I thought you loved The Laughing Gulls.”
“Not anymore.”
“You know, I don’t know much about that band.
I’ve never seen them. Don’t listen to much rock music.
” Kirsten looked over at Grace. “That’s right.
I was never into rock. Jazz is more my thing.
I didn’t know who Robby was when I met him in the airport coming up here.
” Kirsten hadn’t looked away. “He was just some older guy with a truck, and I was pretty desperate for a ride to Grand Marais. But I can’t see Robby ever hiding his identity.
He’s proud to be Anishinaabe. Did he do that professionally — hide his heritage, so fans wouldn’t know?
” Kirsten shook her head. “How do you know?”
“I’ve followed The Gulls since the beginning.
All through grade school. I knew he was from Fond du Lac.
He’s always had that braid. I used to think it was cool, but now I know better.
He’ll turn out like all Indians, or worse — he won’t; then he’ll use his influence to get them more money and jobs. ”
“I heard you were excited when you found out he was here. What’s happened to change your mind?”
“I met people who know more. I listened. It makes sense. This is a critical time in world history. Tough decisions have to be made. It’s our generation who has to act.”
“Many people agree with you that it’s a critical time.
They don’t all come to the same conclusions as you about how to proceed.
I’m sorry you feel that way about Robby.
I haven’t known him long, but he’s not an alcoholic or a drug addict, and he’s not sucking money and jobs from anyone.
He’s making money and providing jobs. But if you need to see the world in a simple way as opposed to how complex it really is, good luck with that.
I thought you were a smart girl, but I’ve been wrong before.
” Grace reached for her iPad and walked off to a green plastic chair, trying to breathe deeply and slowly.
Kirsten finished her folding, put it in a basket, and left.
*******
Jim and Kirsten were coming out the lodge door the next morning when Grace walked up.
The air was chilly, but the sun was trying hard to beat back a gray day.
Grace got to the truck first, opened the rear passenger door, and climbed up, leaving the front seat for Kirsten.
They bumped down the road out of the resort and Jim asked, “Where are you girls going first? I can drop you off at your first stop, but you’re on your own after that, except .
. .” he smiled, “I’ll treat you to lunch at the Lakeside if you come between 12:00 and 12:30.
Otherwise, meet me at Olsson’s around 2:30. ”
“You’re on for lunch, but I talked to Margie, and I’m going to stay overnight tonight with them.
Robby’s stopping by there in the morning.
I’m going to surprise him and ride back up the Trail with him.
That’ll give me time to visit with Margie and Charlie since I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again. ” Kirsten remained silent.
“That’s fine. I don’t blame you for wanting to make the most of the time we’ve got left before Monday. We don’t any of us know what to expect from this lockdown.”
The ride to Grand Marais was quiet. By the time they arrived, the sky had cleared, and the sun was out. Jim dropped Grace at the library. “See you at lunchtime.” To the back of Kirsten’s head, she said, “You should come — great pie.”
More cars were parked at the library than when she and Robby came.
There was a line to get in. Grace was masked but decided not to linger and returned her books in the outside depository.
She had enough subscriptions for work research, and the lodge had a good selection of fiction.
Walking through town, she saw cars and people everywhere.
Some were masked. All were hurrying. Of course, she couldn’t say whether they were locals or tourists, probably a mix trying to get supplies and a last outing.
It made her a little nervous about lunch.
She hurried to get more socks — she had worn holes in hers using them as slippers.
Then she saw slipper socks and got yellow ones.
On the way past the men’s section, she saw a small, cream corduroy shirt on sale.
She checked out and headed to the Lakeside.
She opened the cafe door and immediately knew there were lots of people by the noise.
She backed up and let the door close, unsure what to do.
She looked on the street and didn’t see Jim’s truck, but with this crowd, it could be parked where she couldn’t see it.
Then the door opened, and there was Margie.
They grabbed each other. Even with both masked, they could see the other’s smile.
“I saw your hair,” Margie laughed. “Don’t worry — we have a special table set up in the kitchen.
Come with me, but hurry, we’re short-handed, and happy about it. ”
As it turned out, Grace was the last to show up, because it was just the two of them, and Jim was already there.
Kirsten didn’t come. Understandably, they didn’t get much of a visit with Margie and Charlie.
They’d called in a laid-off server — glad for the work — and were each doing double-duty, though Charlie much preferred the kitchen.
Margie did say they were postponing their time off from tomorrow till Saturday night after closing.
They just couldn’t afford to miss the business.
That made Jim nervous about last minute guests at Getaway.
He called Nan, and sure enough, two cancellations had been filled since he left.
Guests would check in around 4:00, but she said all was under control, and he didn’t need to hurry.
She’d check them in; Billy would get them settled.
Grace could see Jim was uneasy. He was hurrying through his club sandwich and had his pie in a to-go box.
She wanted to talk with him about Kirsten and thought that might take his mind off Getaway.
He was chewing and watching Charlie come through the swinging door with both arms lined with dirty dishes, when she said, “Jim?” He turned to her.
“I had a disturbing conversation yesterday with Kirsten. It had to do with Robby, Margie, and Charlie.”