LEGACY, Book 1: Forgotten Son by Warren Murphy & Gerald Welch

Author:Warren Murphy & Gerald Welch [Murphy, Warren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Destroyer Books
Published: 2012-12-10T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Liz Worn cursed her Native American heritage.

“This is horse crap!” she screamed. “If I had known I was gonna have to go through all this trouble, I would have claimed to be Asian. They talk funny, but at least they have air conditioning!”

“Ms. Worn, all you have to do is complete the Sinanju rite of passage and you will never have to talk about this again,” Kylie said. “Just follow my lead. I’ve prepared a speech written phonetically in the native Sinanju tongue. It’s just a couple of lines, but you’ll need to memorize them.”

Liz snatched the papers from Kylie, but began fanning herself with them instead.

“I will do no such thing. I went to my prom in a helicopter. I’m a Harvard graduate. Heck, I dated a guy from Juilliard! I’m not spending one more brain cell on this than I have to for these goomy goomps.”

Kylie had no idea what a ‘goomy goomp’ was, but she hid a smile. She had known in advance that Liz Worn wouldn’t memorize anything.

The small motorcade drove into the main road of the Sinanju reservation and pulled up to the building marked ‘City Hall.’ Liz remained in the car, placing her lips on the air conditioning vents to suck the cold air out of them while Kylie went inside.

“Uh, hello?” Kylie asked the empty room.

She tapped the bell on the counter, but before her hand could return to her side, a man appeared next to her. He had not been standing there a second earlier. Startled, she jumped back.

“Whoa! Where did you come from? We’re here to see Sunny Joe Roam.”

“That’s me. You from the papers?”

The man was tall, thin and old, but there was something hard about his face. As she looked closer, Kylie recognized his eyes and smiled.

“Hi, I’m Kylie Holcomb from Senator Worn’s campaign,” she said extending her hand. Sunny Joe shook her hand and returned to his statue-like stance. “Uh, we called you a few days ago about the future Senator completing a rite of passage?”

“I’ve already told your people no. She has no ancestors here and I’m not gonna let her turn our tribe into a political punch line.”

The door slammed open and Liz Worn, fully decked out in a wool version of a 1950’s television Indian costume spilled into the room. Sunny Joe looked at her like she was diseased.

“What are you supposed to be?” he asked.

“Shut up!” Liz barked. “Someone tell me where the goddam air conditioning is in this place!”

Kylie winced, but motioned her forward.

“This is Sunny Joe Roam,” Kylie said formally. “He is the leader of the Sinanju tribe.”

Liz panicked.

Not knowing what to say, she pulled out the script Kylie had prepared for her and started reading.

“Oh, great chief of the Sun…Sinjana…onjono, ah, whatever. We have traveled many moon for rite of passage. Make a sweeping arm movement,” Liz said.

Then she realized that she wasn’t supposed to read the last part and made a sweeping arm movement. “We give much moolah to make great wigwam for chief.

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