"Beneath the Dust"

What that brown paper box contained, Walter Fox could never have imagined in his wildest dreams...

The Cherokee Elders’ Council were in agreement that Walter Fox should till up the acreage he and his ᎤᏂᏥ (mother), called home. The land had lain fallow for forty long years, ever since the dust bowl that buried the earth, as a consequence of human’s failure to care for the land. Sufficient penance had been paid; it was time for this land to awaken from its long rest.

Technically, the acreage ‘belonged' to his mother, ever since Mr. Gavin Grisham had given her the deed. But the concept of 'owning' land is so foreign to fathom! We are granted the thankful privilege to enjoy the fruitage it offers during our lifetime; and in exchange, we should gently care for and nurture the land for those who come after us. The acreage belonged to the entire tribe, no matter whose name was on the deed.

Walter breathed in the wonderfully pungent smell of fresh soil: "There would be no struggling to raise a crop, this year!” he rejoiced.

His rejoicing was followed by shame; as he remembered that so many families, forty years ago, had watched their livelihoods blow away.

As the green turned into black, Walter wondered: "Why did Mr. Grisham deed this land to Mama?” He’d been assaulted with vicious rumors as a child...

Miss Elanore Grisham, Gavin’s daughter, had been the worst of all. She’d poke her tongue out and whisper: “Your Mama is a WHORE!”

“Don’t give them no never-mind, Walter," said Mama. "Pain in their heart comes out of their mouth, my ᎤᏪᏥ (son).”

Walter never discovered why she ended up with this land. And he couldn’t ask ᎠᏓᏙᏓ (father) because he died of influenza before Walter was born.

Walter knew he should have long been married by now; but, his rough childhood had held him back. Many times over the past ten years, he had dreamed: "If only I could start fresh somewhere else..."

Suddenly, Walter was thrust forward so hard he was almost thrown off the old tractor! He turned off the motor and jumped down to examine the plow. Clearly, the blades had hit something. Walter grabbed a stick and began to dig away the dirt. “It can’t be… My God, it’s a car!” he exclaimed. Just then, Joseph Degataga (which means standing together), one of the more elderly of the tribal elders, slowly rode up on his horse.

“Nawuati, Walter, walk in peace and harmony. Are you having trouble with your plow?” Joseph asked, as he carefully dismounted.

Walter stood up and excitedly pointed to the ground, “Nawuati, Joseph. My plow hit a car!”

“A car?” Joseph repeated, as he knelt to take a closer look. “Well, I'll be... it’s red… the only people who went missing from the town during the Dust Bowl, were Mr. Gavin Grisham and his attorney, Mr. Felix Brown. And Mr. Grisham drove a red automobile.”

“It can’t be!” Walter thought out loud as he helped Joseph stand up. “How can dust bury an entire car?”

Joseph answered, “It can, and it did. The anger of the Dust Bowl was VERY great! I’ll go call Sheriff Oconostota (which means warrior).”

By the time both the tribal and town Sheriffs arrived, night had fallen. The Council of Elders had come and built a fire for warmth, as much as for more light, as the darkness brought a chill. The car was now out of the ground and there was no doubt that it was Mr. Grisham’s.

The sheriffs rubbed the soil off the windows and peered in with their flashlights. “We’ve got two bodies in here! There's a paper box clutched in one of the men's hands," announced Sheriff Haskins, from town.

Sheriff Oconostota wondered, "It appears to be a gift for someone... but, for who?”

Walter and the elders bowed their heads out of respect. The county coronor was on his way… The car-door burst open under the Sheriffs' strength, and out rolled the moldy, brown-paper box. With all eyes upon him, Sheriff Haskins picked it up, tore apart the disentegrating paper, and took out a black leather-bound binder of legal documents, still intact.

Sheriff Haskins turned pale. Sheriff Oconostota leaned him against the car, to steady him. After exchanging whispers—Sheriff Oconostota called: “Walter, we’re gonna need to talk to your Mama, Miss Inola." (Inola means Black Fox.)

Walter stood up: “Why?”

Sheriff Haskins: “It’s the Last Will and Testament of Gavin Grisham. They must have been on their way to your trailer to inform your Mama, when they got caught in the Dust Bowl, drove off the road, and were buried.”

Walter was confused: “Why would they have had to inform Mama?”

Sheriff Haskins replied: “It looks to me like Grisham changed his damn will—and left everything to your Mama.”

Walter’s head was awhirl: “What do ya mean, ‘everything’?”

This time Sheriff Oconostota answered, putting both hands on Walter’s shoulders. Looking him straight in the eye, he said, “It means the whole kit and kaboodle... EVERYTHING! His oil wells, his company, his house, his bank accounts, his properties, his TOWN! Do you realize what this could mean for our people?”

“Now just wait a dad-gum minute,” protested Sheriff Haskins. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves! You can betcha Miss Elenore will fight this in court.”

Walter looked at the Council of Elders, who had thankful hands outstretched, toward the sky: “Miss Elenore needs to grieve her Daddy. The families need to be notified before we start discussing wills."

Walter helped Joseph into his pickup truck. Sheriff Haskins called after him, “The town won’t wait for grieving to settle this, Walter Fox! You bring Miss Inola to Miss Elenore’s tomorrow!”

The next thing Walter knew, Mama, who was always so stoic, was wiping away a tear as Joseph broke the news. Her hands were shaking.

She barely had time to absorb it, when Joseph told her Mr. Grisham had revised his will and apparently, had been on his way to inform her, when he died. The implications were huge! Neither Joseph or Walter breathed for a moment, awaiting her response. She rose and walked out onto the little front porch Walter had built onto the trailer. Through the window, he could see her lips moving fervently, but could not hear what she was saying, as she pleaded with her God.

Turning to the elder, Walter said, “She has more pain in her eyes from his death than when she talks about my father! Joseph, help me understand.”

Joseph softly replied, “It's not for me to say.”

His Mama walked in: “It's long past time I told you.”

Walter’s heart began to pound. He had waited all his life to learn the truth!

“But first,” Mama continued, “Here's what I will ask the Council of Elders to do with Gavin's gift.” Walter noted this was the first time he'd ever heard Mama refer to Mr. Grisham by his first name.

Mama continued: “Our people were forced out of their homes in Georgia. We all lost loved ones in the Trail of Tears; dead were buried at every stop, during that forced winter Death March! We scratched and scraped to make a living here. Yet, ‘vengeance is mine,’ sayeth the Lord.”

Pausing, Inola looked first at her son, then at Joseph. “I will NOT turn Miss Elenore or anybody else out of their home. I will NOT do to them what their government did to our people!”

Joseph asked, “Are you planning to refuse the inheritance?”

Inola answered, “No, not at all. As you know, our people’s attorney took it clear to the Supreme Court—and we won! But, President Jackson told the Governor of Georgia he’d look the other way while Georgia took our land, anyway. But the outcome will be DIFFERENT this time!"

Walter asked: “Why?”

Inola explained: “Because this time we don't WANT to stay. This time I will ask the Council of Elders to allow me to offer Miss Elenore to buy us out of the inheritance. We do not WANT her property. We do not WANT this town.”

Joseph commented, “That may be possible; but what would you have us do with all that money? You're talking about a FORTUNE!”

Inola continued: “If the elders agree, let's use that money to buy property in Georgia. Those who choose to stay could receive their fair-share to improve their lot in life here. But those who want, can return to Georgia... I want my people to finally be able to go HOME!”

Walter and Joseph were stunned at the brilliant simplicity of her wish! Maybe it was her prayer, maybe it was her longing; but could such a wondrous thing actually happen? Could the Cherokee people go home?

Inola took Walter's hands in hers: “Gavin and I were childhood sweethearts. Our tribe and his parents, disapproved. But, we pledged ourselves to each other. When word got out, everybody refused to recognize our union. They resolved to keep us apart."

Joseph looked down at the floor in shame, as Inola continued: "But by then, you had been conceived.”

Walter objected, “Mr. Grisham CAN'T be my father... I already have a father!”

"There was nothing either of us could do, when Gavin was FORCED into an arranged marriage with Miss Elenore’s mother," Inola continued. "Our people did the same, to me. The brave you know as your father was a kind, caring man who intended to raise you as his own, but he died. Gavin then deeded me this land. He was worried for us to the point of distraction. Honestly, if the Dust Bowl hadn’t taken him, his breaking heart soon would have! Although I was free; your sister, Elenore, was going to be born. I couldn't break up his family.”

Walter’s heart pounded: “My SISTER?”

“Your half-sister. I know she’s been mean to you, but she was only trying to defend her mother, who was convinced I was having an affair with her husband. But son, I swear by all that is holy that nothing untoward ever happened between us after they were married. You believe me, don’t you?” Inola buried her anguished face into her hands.

Walter didn’t hesitate: “Even if Elenore, the entire town—and the entire tribe never believed you, I do.”

With a pained expression on his face, Joseph quietly asked: “Will you forgive us, Inola? You are a righteous woman, and we never should have doubted that.”

Inola wiped away her tears and smiled: “Water under the bridge, Joseph.”

She continued, “Desperate to help us in ways his wife couldn't prevent, Gavin offered me a job cleaning one of his office buildings. He was loyal to Elanore's mother, until the day she died. After her funeral, is when he must have decided to change his will... "

Inola paused: "I’m sure he was going to tell us we could finally ALL be together! He and I, you and Elenore… we would have become a family, I'm sure of it—despite the awful prejudices of this town and our tribe."

Walter tried to digest all that she had said. He honestly didn’t know HOW he felt, at the moment.

Caressing his cheek, his Mama continued: "However, that's not the way it turned out, due to the Dust Bowl. Maybe someday, you and Elanore can still forge a relationship, as brother and sister."

Inola suddenly rose from her chair. Standing, she looked off into the distance as if seeing a far-away place, and stoicly said, "But that is for the future. For now, I want to help our people. Your father rose from beneath the dust, so we can finally go HOME!”