Timecachers (12 page)

“In an ideal world, that would make sense. But in the real world of cutthroat competition they need to keep secrets.”

“It must be a very valuable invention indeed,” John said with a shocked look, “if people are willing to cut each other’s throats for it.”

“Er, yeah, I guess so,” Adam answered, not sure if John was putting him on or not. He thought he should change the subject. “How about yourself? What brought you into the forest? You mentioned returning from a trip?”

“Yes, it was necessary for me to travel to Tennessee for a meeting with my friend to discuss the grave situation that faces us. As you know, we are not permitted to conduct our meetings in Georgia, so I had to travel to him hoping to get some good news that he has made progress in Washington, DC. There is, unfortunately, no progress, and I must carry bad news back to my people and help them prepare for the worst.”

Adam shook his head as if he hadn’t heard John correctly, trying to determine if he was being put on. “Now I have more questions than before, John. What do you mean you’re not allowed to conduct meetings? Who are ‘your people’? You aren’t engaged in some sort of illegal activity, are you?” Adam regretted asking that question almost before he asked it.

John hesitated, looking gravely at Adam as if he were assessing his veracity. “Are you not from Georgia?”

“No, we are from Delaware,” Adam answered, once again failing to bite back information he wasn’t sure he should provide. John hadn’t answered the question. Who was this guy, he wondered? Some sort of Native American crime boss?

“I see. I believe there are only a few tribes remaining in your state. My people are
Ani-yunwiya
, the Principal People, also called Tsalagi. You probably know us as Cherokee. I am of mixed blood, as both my parents were, but being Tsalagi involves much more than just bloodlines.

“You come from far away, but surely you have heard of Georgia’s plan to enforce their illegal treaty, and that they have made it against the law for Cherokee to hold any political or organizational gatherings?” John looked questioningly at Adam.

Adam was now completely convinced the man was delusional. He glanced behind him at the others, quiet due to the exertion of climbing although the incredulous look in their eyes clearly communicated that they had been listening. Tom, who appeared ready to speak, was stopped short by a quick shake of the head from Adam. Alice shot them both a questioning look, while Sal just rolled his eyes toward the treetops and began humming “
One Toke Over the Line
.”

Adam tried to continue the conversation as nonchalantly as he could. “Cherokee, you say? There are quite a few people back home who have Native American ancestry, but you’re right, there are not very many tribes. I know there are Lenape, and Nanticoke downstate, but I don’t believe there has been a reservation in Delaware for many years.

“But, uh, I believe you are mistaken about the Cherokee not being allowed to have meetings,” Adam said nervously, not sure how much he should contradict this fellow. “I’m pretty sure there are federal laws, not to mention a little thing called the Constitution that protects your rights to do so.”

“Those laws work for the white people,” John explained, “but the Cherokee nation is sovereign, and the laws do not apply. We are not granted any rights by the U.S. Constitution. Even though the Supreme Court ruled that the state of Georgia has no jurisdiction over us, the president has said that the federal government does not have the resources to protect us from the state.”

“The President of the United States said he couldn’t protect you from
Georgia
?” It was inconceivable to Adam that this man actually believed that.

“Yes,” John answered evenly. “When Justice Marshall ruled the Georgia treaty illegal, your president told him he would have to enforce his ruling himself. That was some years ago, and we have since made many efforts to persuade the legislatures to reconsider.”

“Justice Marshall hasn’t been…” Tom began.

Adam interrupted Tom before he could finish. “That’s very interesting, John. We wish you the best of luck getting that straightened out.”

Tom looked annoyed at the interruption, but Adam would apologize to him later. He knew Tom was about to mention the fact that Supreme Court Justice Marshall, a Johnson administration appointee, hadn’t been making any rulings lately, especially since he passed away in 1993. He couldn’t tell if John was pulling his leg or simply delusional, but he didn’t want to say anything that might get the man aggravated. They would soon be back to the top of the mountain, and would be close to the developed part of the state park soon. There they could part ways with John and leave him to his fantasies. He changed the subject by asking John if his horse was doing OK.

Tom seemed to catch on, and Alice also tried to keep the conversation more subtle by chatting with John about his horse and the medicinal herbs. Sal didn’t appear to be the least bit interested in either topic of conversation and walked ahead for a better view, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mountain bikers.

Sal was looking out over the landscape when the rest of the group caught up to him. “What is it, Siesta time in Georgia? I haven’t seen a single biker on the trails from here.” Adam, Tom, and Alice joined Sal at the overlook, leaving John to check the horse’s mending leg.

“You’re right,” said Alice, “I can’t see a soul on the trails from here. It’s mid-day on a beautiful spring afternoon; you would think the park would be filled with hikers and bikers.”

“Does the view seem a little different? I was pretty sure you could see more of the roads from here,” said Adam.

“There’s probably some park event going on down by the stone wall,” said Tom. “Let’s get back there and check it out.”

“Yeah, and we can ditch Wacko Squanto,” said Sal, keeping his voice low enough so John could not overhear. “He’s enough to drive anyone loopy.”

“I can understand your concern,” said Alice, “you’re already within walking distance of loopy.”

Sal responded with a snort.

John Carter caught up with them, and they continued walking southwestward along the trail, without speaking. Adam did not want to discuss the disappointing LANav testing with John present, nor did he want to get him started on his offbeat stories about Indians and the president. John seemed to enjoy walking along in silence anyway.

The silence was short-lived, however. Tom suddenly stopped in his tracks and said, “Why haven’t we passed the fire tower yet?”

“Dang, we must have missed it,” said Sal.

“Missed it? How could we possibly have missed it? You could easily see it from the trail and the overlook,” Tom replied.

As Tom spoke those words, he realized that they also had not yet seen the overlook platform. He retrieved the printed map he had brought along, trying to determine if they had somehow gone in the wrong direction.

“We probably already walked passed it,” said Adam. “We must have been talking and just didn’t see it. What other explanation could there be? I verified our direction with the LANav, and we should be nearly to the stone wall.

“It’s been a long and disappointing morning for us. Let’s get back to the parking area, see John on his way, and knock off for a few hours to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon. We just need to call Ed first and give him the bad news. Look! We’re nearly there; I can see the stone wall just up ahead.”

As they approached the wall, their confusion only grew deeper. They asked each other questions they had no answer for. Where was the asphalt path along the wall? Wasn’t there a sign posted here? Where are all the park visitors? The wall itself appeared to be more overgrown and unkempt, yet a little less dilapidated than it had been not more than a few hours earlier.

Tom and Sal sprinted off in the direction of the parking lot, while Adam and Alice walked along the wall looking for something that might explain the inconsistencies in its appearance. Not more than a few minutes later, Tom and Sal returned.

Tom was ghostly white. “Gone,” he said.

“What’s gone?” Alice asked.

“Everything!” he answered hollowly. “Paths, signs, parking lot. No sign of our SUV.”

Sal said nothing, just nodded his head at Adam’s questioning look. Dumbfounded, they sat on the wall exchanging glances of exasperation, looking from one to another, not speaking.

Adam finally said, “Let’s get a grip here. There
must
be a logical explanation for this! Could we have possibly returned to a different section of the wall ruin? A section that has been kept free of the touristy stuff?”

Four sets of inquiring eyes turned toward John Carter, who had been silently watching them become increasingly agitated. He sympathized with their obvious distress, even if he didn’t understand the cause. The wall was an ancient place with many strange spirits, but he had never seen the spirits create this kind of anguish in anyone before. He looked at them and shrugged.

“Not many tourists visit our nation’s lands,” he offered, wishing he could say something more helpful. “The stone wall has been here, in ruins as you see it, for many years before my time. There is much speculation about its origin. There are nearly as many stories as there are rocks in the wall.”

“Your nation’s lands? Not many visitors?” Adam said. “What do you mean? This is a state park that gets thousands of visitors!”

“This land is part of the Cherokee Nation,” John answered. “You said you were testing a navigation device. Did you not know you are within the boundaries of the Cherokee Nation? It’s kind of big to miss.”

“Are you saying that this is some sort of reservation? This is a state park!” Adam said. He was getting frustrated by this man’s idiotic ranting. “Tom, is it possible that we returned to a different part of the park?”

Tom shook his head. “I don’t believe that could be possible.”

“I do not know what this reservation is you are looking for,” said John. “What is left of our nation is over twelve thousand square miles. I admit I have not been to all of it, but I am very familiar with this area, and I am pretty sure there are no parks around here.”

“Are you trying to tell me that the Cherokees own this land? It’s a state park. It belongs to Georgia,” said Adam.

“That is what Georgia and President Jackson have said, but over sixteen thousand Cherokee have been trying to convince them otherwise. That has been the reason for my journey to Red Clay. I was hoping to return with more positive news about our leader, John Ross, and his most recent trip to Washington City,” John said.

“President Jackson!” Adam said. “Jackson hasn’t been the president for a long time!”

“Yes, I am aware he had been replaced by Mr. Van Buren. Chief Ross hoped that he would be more amenable to our plight. He made another appeal to your congress, but his attempt was again in vain. The new president seemed willing to give us additional time, but Governor Gilmer argued against it, and the issue was once again tabled. I am now on my way to the old capitol, New Echota, to relay this unfortunate news to the Cherokee who still reside there,” John replied sadly.

“Adam,” said Tom, “this man is delusional. He’s talking about a president from the 1800’s, and if I remember my history correctly, things that occurred prior to the Cherokee removal. I suppose the ‘Justice Marshall’ he was referring to before was John Marshall, not Thurgood Marshall! This is the 21st century, not the 1800’s. We need to stop wasting time talking to him and figure out where we are.”

“I appreciate that you are distressed, Tom,” said John Carter, “but I am hardly the one who is delusional. I am not the one who is lost, and believes himself to be in the wrong century. You are in the lands of the Cherokee Nation, and the date is May of 1838.”

Chapter eleven

U
ntil now, Adam considered himself to be competent to handle most management situations. He was generally fair, level-headed, and decisive. He was experienced and had attended some of the best management seminars that were currently available. But nothing had prepared him for this situation; he felt inadequate and ineffectual. Somehow he must have missed the lecture on suddenly finding yourself and your team transported back in time.

He knew he was soon going to have to figure it out. After John’s last statement, his three team members were looking at him, silently waiting for him to give them an answer. He considered his options. Should he make a joke? Did anyone take this seriously? Was he dreaming? He thought that the latter possibility was the most likely. In that case, it really didn’t matter what he said, since all would be well as soon as he woke up. Maybe if he concentrated really hard on waking up… Nope, didn’t seem to do the trick. No, Adam thought, definitely not a dream.

“Well?” he heard Alice ask him. He smiled stupidly at her.

“None of you are taking this seriously, are you?” said Tom. “I’m certainly not about to believe this is 1838 just because Squanto here says so.”

Interesting, Adam thought. Tom seems to be showing signs of hostility. He thought that would more likely come from Sal. On the contrary, Sal was quietly sitting on the stone wall, looking somewhat muddled, perhaps even a little frightened. Definitely a look he never saw Sal have before. Alice was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. Did she seriously expect him to have one? Her cold stare told him that yes, she did.