Page 30 of Voice to Raise
Mama and Creed didn’t appear ready to acknowledge the change. I couldn’t force them to face reality. Hopefully Papa was getting good medical care, and a doctor was following him closely.
I gave his arm a squeeze.
He met my gaze, frowned, then smiled. “You’re such a good boy.”
Mama barked out more laughter as I took my leave. I drove straight to Spencer’s office and presented myself to Bonnie with as little attitude as possible.
She gave me the once-over.
“I just want to talk to him.”
“I’m not certain he wants to talk to you.” She had her hand on her hip.
Brushing past her would be easy enough—but that likely meant laying hands on her and no way was I going to do that. “I promise to be good.”
She laughed.
“No, truly. I can be a good guy. I can behave.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Do you even understand what we’re fighting for?”
“For Indigenous tribes to have their ancestral lands recognized as their own and for the environment to be protected. Of course, I understand.”
“Do you also see that it’s mostly white folks fighting for this?”
“Are you saying I can’t join you because I’m not white? Because I’m Black?”
“No. You misunderstand. We welcome everyone. But we also ask them to abide by rules and use decorum.”
Ah. Now we’re getting somewhere.
“Polite and decorous doesn’t always get the job done.” I gestured to the photo of the founder or the organization. Maude Ransom. “She wasn’t always polite and decorous.”
“And she never accomplished as much in life as she wanted. She changed some hearts and minds—but not all. Even she recognized her limitations. Her desire, when she passed, was that her legacy be carried on. That work be done in her name.”
“Okay.” I frowned. “But you need money, right?”
“We’re surviving. That said, additional funds are always a good thing—as long as they’re not the proceeds of crime or something.”
I waved my hand as if to wave off her suggestion I might do anything untoward. “I’m a saint.”
“You’re anything but.” Spencer’s dry tone had me pivoting to find him close behind me.
I didn’t even sense him. He must move stealthily.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Forestal? I’m really quite busy, and—”
“Razor Made wants to create an anthem for This Land is Ours. To use as you see fit. Maybe even to overlay a video you create that explains your mission. Or maybe you pull it out at your next rally. Or—”
He held up his hand. “I get the picture and am not interested, Mr. Forestal. Thank you for dropping by and please attempt not to get in trouble again—”
“Hey.” I frowned. “That thing you supported got approved.”
“No thanks to you.” He frowned right back. “Perhaps the project was always going to be green-lit. But your impassioned speech—”
I rolled my eyes.
“—didn’t make much sense and upset the mayor. And got attention from the local press.”
