Dear Readers,<\/p>\n
The last couple of weeks have brought such incredible changes to my life, I hardly know how to begin describing them. It started with a trip back across the country to a place different from anywhere I’d ever been.<\/p>\n
There\u2019s no quick way to get to Selu. After you land in Greensboro, you drive past miles and miles of flat green fields with picturesque rolls of hay. If you come, as I did, in the fall, you pass beneath clouds of amber and crimson foliage. The houses get smaller and more infrequent.<\/p>\n
You turn from the interstate onto state highways, then back roads until, if you don\u2019t miss the sign as I did the first time, you\u2019re bouncing down a dirt track, nothing more than a pair of wheel ruts leading through a cornfield. Finally you crest a hill and a cluster of vehicles comes into view, then log cabins, mud-and-wattle huts and cob houses scattered in the birch and pine. That\u2019s Selu.<\/p>\n
No one was around, so I parked my rental Concorde, its new white paint spattered with red mud, and stood next to it uncertainly. The place seemed so remote, so primitive, so nothing that I couldn\u2019t imagine anything really good coming out of a visit there. I was just about to get back into the car, when a gray bearded man wearing blue jeans, sandals and a Peruvian poncho came out of the center log cabin.<\/p>\n
Although I was expecting to see Leif, I didn\u2019t recognize him at first. Superficially, not much had changed, aside from the graying of his beard and hair, the deepening of lines on his forehead, and a general thinning. It was more the way he moved that seemed unfamiliar; the Leif I remembered carried himself with an athlete\u2019s casual power. This man put his feet down lightly, as if he didn\u2019t want to make footprints.<\/p>\n
\u201cAdrienne?\u201d he said, when he got within a few feet of me. Everyone else I\u2019d met on this odyssey had hugged me as soon as we got close enough. Leif instead clasped both my hands in both of his. \u201cI hardly recognized you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI cut my hair,\u201d I joke.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, you did.\u201d He looked into my eyes, as if trolling for my soul. Then he smiled with a softness I couldn\u2019t remember from his intrepid face of the old days. My hands between his trembled a little and my breath came shorter as my old ambivalence about him surged. This was the man who had led our family into so much trouble, but also the man who had saved me from drowning.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell,\u201d I said, pulling free. \u201cLet me introduce my kids.\u201d<\/p>\n
I opened the car door and Dante and Chloe peered shyly at him. He smiled, more brightly. \u201cHello, I\u2019m Leif,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat are your names?\u201d<\/p>\n
I answered for them.<\/p>\n
\u201cDante and Chloe, welcome.\u201d He held out his hand. \u201cI understand you\u2019ve come to visit for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dante hesitantly clasped Leif\u2019s fingers, then let go.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll just be here maybe one night, if that\u2019s okay,\u201d I said. \u201cI tried to call you so I could see what your schedule was, but the woman who answered just kept telling me you didn\u2019t want to talk on the phone, and we should come anyway. I hope it\u2019s not an intrusion, and if it is you\u2019ll let me know right away.\u201d<\/p>\n
He pulled his head out of the car to look at me. \u201cStay as long as you\u2019d like.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019d also be happy to stay in a hotel or something tonight. I don\u2019t want to impose.\u201d<\/p>\n
He raised his eyebrows.<\/p>\n
\u201cI mean, if this is not a good time or whatever, just say so.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAdrienne.\u201d He reached a slim hand out and touched my shoulder. I felt a charge of cool energy. \u201cYou\u2019re welcome here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n
He gave a short nod. \u201cLet me show you around.\u201d<\/p>\n
I unfastened Chloe from her booster seat and we three followed Leif to the heptagonal thatched building on a mound in the center of a clearing. Inside were concentric circles of benches with a fire pit in the center. Seven shaved tree trunks set in a circle held wooden beams that slanted to form a teepee-style cone-shaped roof, shingled with bark. \u201cThis is our Gatuyi,\u201d he said, \u201cwhere we hold ceremonies and meetings. It\u2019s the oldest building in the community.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was no fire burning, but the place smelled of wood smoke. Facing the fire pit were three high-backed white chairs and behind them, fixed to the pillars, were boards painted in quarter moon and zigzag patterns. \u201cGatuyi is a Cherokee word,\u201d Leif said, \u201cessentially meaning \u2018town hall.\u2019 For the first seven years, a fire was kept burning here continually, day and night, according to the Cherokee custom.\u201d<\/p>\n
The strangeness of it all nearly overcame me. It was incongruous that someone I knew, who had been a part of my intimate daily life, had given everything up to play Indian full time. \u201cI was just wondering,\u201d I asked. \u201cWhy Cherokee? I mean as opposed to, I don\u2019t know, Iroquois or Zulu or Serbo-Croatian.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe short answer is that the Cherokee set some good examples.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the long answer?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe long answer is what you get if you stick around a long time.\u201d He smiled.<\/p>\n