The Healing of Natalie Curtis by Jane Kirkpatrick

Author:Jane Kirkpatrick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction;Natalie Curtis Burlin (1875–1921)—Fiction;Biographical Fiction;FIC042030;FIC014000
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2021-07-29T00:00:00+00:00

24

A Pencil in Their Hands

Pelia did sing for Natalie after Frank assured him it was alright. Charlotte had an Edison recorder and Natalie made notes. The man seemed to be comforted by his singing, his eyes closed as he chanted and moved around the apartment, performing what Frank said was a “Dance Song.” The man had cocked his head at the replaying, then nodded, a grin forming on his face. Then the three of them took the diminutive Pelia on a boat ride on the Hudson, him still holding the black-and-white woven urn that strangers would stop to comment on, forcing Pelia to hold tighter to his treasure. They showed him the elevated train, and later Frank pointed out the Statue of Liberty in the harbor. Natalie wondered what such a thing might mean to Pelia: a stone feature that had been a gift to honor all the immigrants who had come to America’s shores—and ultimately taken Indian lands and helped erase their way of life.

After sightseeing, Natalie was fully on board with helping Frank’s efforts on behalf of the Yavapai. She liked Frank even more, watching his tenderness with Pelia, but as a colleague only. Pelia seemed relieved to be back at Charlotte’s apartment, where he set the basket down and sighed. What a strain this trip must be on him. What he was willing to set aside—the simplicity of his life in the desert to withstand the bombarding of buildings and noise—just to get that audience with Roosevelt.

“Have you written your letter to Roosevelt, Natalie? Do so now, don’t you think?” Charlotte directed. Charlotte’s chef had prepared a cucumber salad. Pelia had lifted the cucumber and smelled it as Natalie had done when Chiparopai had given her a fruity-smelling red prickly pear cactus to eat.

Pelia was being asked to take in so much.

“Have you thought of your arguments?” Charlotte persisted. “What you’ll say to him to get the audience?”

Natalie supposed the earlier the better for writing, as it would surely take time for Roosevelt to respond. And she didn’t want Pelia to have to be away from what he knew best any longer than necessary.

“We should plan to go to my Washington apartment to wait out his response,” Charlotte said. “It’s always good to be close to the heartbeat of power. We can visit a few senators and win over representatives for the western territories for the land project too, Frank. Besides, it’ll be easier to visit Hampton from DC anyway.”

“I will draft the letter,” Natalie said. “But I want it to come on my stationery, so I’ll need to go home for that. But I can join you in Washington later.”

“That’ll do,” Charlotte said. “And you and I need to talk money, such a ghastly subject but essential nonetheless. A good benefactor is attuned to raising funds to match her own investments, so a letter to Peabody is warranted this afternoon as well. We can propose a meeting.”

Charlotte’s use of “we” would have to be addressed, but Natalie had a rule.

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