Nadia Titla had a rational perception of the dominant society at large. She knew it was their rules, their game. She also understood that when things weren’t going their way, they could, and often did easily amend the rules to turn things back to their advantage, particularly if it involved a profit. Nadia discovered various subtle aspects of the game when she was preparing to leave home to attend college. She found that she could even out the playing field somewhat, if she really listened. Nadia began to train her ear to understand not only the rules, but how to decipher what the prevailing intent was, in order to comprehend the real agenda. Over time she was able to crack the code. In doing so it allowed her to use their lofty standards, so that accountability that they demanded of her now became a two way street. From Nadia’s point of view she believed that if you bought into lies and deception, and you accepted the lie as truth, then you become the lie. You just had to listen, and observe carefully, very carefully. It was nearing the end of her work day. The phone had rung incessantly for the last two days. “‘You Are On Indian Land’, the paper of the people, this is Natalia, how may I help you? Okay, okay, I’ll let her know, yes, right now, okay thanks bye.” Natalia, the assistant editor to her best friend Nadia, hung up the phone. “Nadia, we gotta go. The good captain is calling for a press conference in one hour.” Nadia looked up with a perplexed look etched on her face. She had sat doodling on her large desk calendar. Nadia knew this was a calculated move on the part of Captain Edwards. To call a press conference this late in the day in this sleepy town was generally not done. The police chief had pulled this crap before. Nadia was also upset that she had missed Dwayne’s call prior to him going to New Mexico. She wondered what Dwayne had to tell her, and it was presently irritating the shit out of her. Men. She had to really listen to them because their thought processes generally involved a solution, commentary, food, and sex, cars, and money; but not necessarily in that order. Nadia was very passionate about her chosen field of journalism. Natalia and Nadia had met in college, and they shared a likeness in their work. Natalia was Puerto Rican via New York City, and was very educated and articulate. “Come the hell on bitch, we gotta go now,” Natalia articulated, as she dropped some recording equipment on her bosses desk. Natalia flashed her sassy smile and waited. Nadia stood up. She was mentally drained. She smiled at her friend. Natalia always kept her spirit up when she wasn’t feeling it. The two women gathered up their equipment and headed out into town. Nadia hoped Dwayne was okay, she knew that Cyrus was very ill and only had a short period to live. Nadia and Dwayne talked occasionally. She liked him, but was not rushing into anything. He was a quiet man, but had a nice sense of humor. He was Navajo and she was white mountain Apache. Perhaps an intertribal love connect in the making. Nadia turned onto the highway. She knew that Captain Edwards was not to be trusted. She would have to listen carefully if she were to catch this word whisperer. He had proven to be a formidable opponent, a man who was very adept to disseminate soothing little white lies into the ears of those whose horse like mentality, a herd of individuals who were easily placated, and satisfied to greedily suck the teat of a steady flow of untruths; knowing all the while that it required little to no effort on their part to grow, or to progress as a people.
After all, this was a culture of people that invented, and defined the word meism. The people at large did not want their acquisition of happiness upset, even if it revealed their selfish nature. Nadia and Natalia finally arrived into Antelope Springs. The town was buzzing with activity. It had not seen this much activity in years. The two women headed into the press conference.