We followed Leif outside and into a second building, constructed with modern wallboard and wood planks. Half the roof was taken up by big black solar panels. “This is our common house,” Leif said. Inside was a kitchen equipped with a restaurant-sized refrigerator and gas range. A woman was washing lettuce. Her dress was a kind of shapeless beige shift, embroidered with a Greek key pattern. Something was bubbling in a huge kettle on the stove. \u201cCorinne,\u201d said Leif, \u201cthis is Adrienne, Dante and Chloe. They\u2019ll be staying with us tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHello,\u201d said Corinne, smiling. \u201cWelcome.\u201d I thought I recognized her voice from the telephone call in which I\u2019d arranged the visit.<\/p>\n
An adjoining dining room held folding chairs and tables. \u201cWe eat most of our meals here,\u201d Leif said. \u201cYou\u2019ll see that tonight. And the furniture can be cleared aside for dancing or for indoor games or exercises when the weather is bad. On rainy weekends, this is where you\u2019ll find most of the kids.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis building doesn\u2019t look so Cherokee,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Leif nodded. \u201cAnd you didn\u2019t even see the bathroom and showers. Some examples are hard to follow. Would you like to see the houses?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUmm\u2026\u201d I felt let-down. The place was so small, so backward. What questions had I expected it to aaddress? But having come that far, I might as well see what there was to see. \u201cSure.\u201d We left the main building and headed down a foot trail that wound from the trees back into the cornfields. The corn was almost overgrown with beans and squash. The stalks were several feet high, making it impossible to see the rest of the community from where we were walking, but we could hear shouts and laughter. In a few minutes we stepped out into a field of open grass with soccer goals at either end. A dozen children between the ages of three and twelve were running up and down the uneven turf, kicking. A couple of teenagers were playing catch with baseball mitts. \u201cThis is our playing field,\u201d Leif said. \u201cI\u2019m told that in the beginning the Selu kids played Cherokee games, like lacrosse and chungke. Now it\u2019s mostly soccer and baseball or tag and hide-and-go seek, that sort of thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
As we stepped into the open, a girl of about five, with waist-length pigtails turned to us. \u201cWho are they?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cThese are Adrienne, Dante and Chloe,\u201d he said. \u201cGuests.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow long are they staying?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Leif answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll just be here one night,\u201d I reminded him. The place was pleasant enough, if you liked camping. But nothing I\u2019d seen so far seemed to justify Ivor\u2019s use of the word \u201cresort.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you bring any toys?\u201d the girl asked Dante.<\/p>\n
He shook his head.<\/p>\n
The girl turned to me. \u201cDo you have any candy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d I said. She didn\u2019t appear to be starving, but her expression was so eager it reminded me of working vacations I\u2019ve taken as a volunteer in Guatemalan and Ugandan medical clinics. \u201cNo, wait.\u201d I opened my purse to rummage in it. \u201cOnly a breath mint.\u201d<\/p>\n
She held out her hand. I glanced at Leif and he nodded, so I put a mint in the girl\u2019s palm. Immediately the other children were crowding around. In a few seconds, the package was empty and the kids went back to their game. Leif led me around the field and into the woods again.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow many children are there?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cFifteen,\u201d he said. \u201cThat was most of them. A couple may be visiting friends in town. But generally they come here right after school, or they play in the creek or climb trees until it gets dark. Then they go into the common house for dinner and homework.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dante and Chloe were clinging close to me, but following the other kids with their eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can play with them if you want,\u201d Leif said to them.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo thanks,\u201d said Dante.<\/p>\n
Chloe took my hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere do the kids here go to school?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe home-school most of them, but it\u2019s up to the parents. Some of the teenagers go to the local high school.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWould it be too personal a question for me to ask why you\u2019re trying to live like a Cherokee?\u201d<\/p>\n
He smiled diffidently. \u201cI could give you an explanation. But in fifteen years of being a university professor, I found that hardly anybody remembered what I said. They only remembered what I showed them.\u201d That\u2019s the kind of response I got all afternoon. The Leif I remembered was always elaborating on his theories, testing them, arguing them with anyone who would listen. Now he seemed reluctant to explain anything, and the mysteriousness didn\u2019t do much to put me at ease.<\/p>\n
His tour took us to a half dozen other dwellings. After calling out to them from a distance, and either getting no answer or permission to come forward, Leif introduced us to various community members and showed me their homes. They were lean men with full beards and dreadlocks, or shaved heads and little goatees; and muscular women with hairy legs. Everyone was white, which I thought was ironic for people pretending to be Cherokee. Looking at their lodgings, I began to dread the night ahead of us. It had been years since I\u2019d done any camping, and though I\u2019d enjoyed it as a kid, I couldn\u2019t imagine wanting to live that way indefinitely. I also couldn\u2019t get out of my head the niggling fear that I\u2019d blundered with my children into the kind of cult that might be eager for new recruits.<\/p>\n