“I’m fine with it, too. But we need the person to act as the tie breaker for decisions that are stuck, and we need to figure out the specifics of who does and gets what.”

“Let’s figure out one thing at a time,” said Kowi. “First, the issue of tiebreaker. We nominate Bryn.” He looked at me as if waiting for me to say something.

“Uh. Are you sure?” I asked. I actually thought Peter would be a better choice than me. Or even Bodo. They were less emotional than I am and always seemed to be talking sense when I was going off, following my first instinct. “Why not Peter? I think he’d make more sense.”

“You’re welcome to consult with him, but I prefer you,” said Kowi.

I looked over at Peter and he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I agree to this,” said Trip, “but only if she has plans to stay here for a long time. There’s no use giving her that kind of power if she’s just going to be here for a little while and leave.” He was staring at me intently, a challenge in his eyes.

Trip was really putting me on the spot. I looked over at Peter and he nodded his head, encouraging me to accept. But I wasn’t sure what to say. Can I promise I’ll never want to leave? Do I even know what it would mean to actually live here? So far it had been more like a camping trip than a lifestyle.

Kowi must have sensed my reticence because he chimed in with, “I don’t agree that she needs to commit to the tribes forever. I think it would be good to get some sort of commitment from her, though.” Kowi looked at me and then Trip. “Would you agree to six months at least?”

Trip shook his head. “No. But one year? Yeah.”

So it’s a one-year commitment or I can see my ass out of the swamp. I looked over at Peter again, and his eyes were begging me. Bodo wasn’t there, but I had to assume he’d want to stay, too. He was always talking about doodling on the house to make it nicer; I was going to take that to mean he wanted to make it more homey - as in a place he’d want to put down roots. Buster licked my ankle, which felt a lot like moral support, and that was the final sign I needed to agree.

“Fine. I can commit to a year. I guess we’ll look at this again when we get to that point and decide what works for us then.”

Kowi nodded his head.

Trip just stared at me as if he were trying to read my mind.

It made me uncomfortable, but I stared back without flinching or glancing away. Obvious and purposeful strength was important to earning and keeping his respect. I knew that. I wondered if he knew even this much about himself, or if he was a slave to his ego like most guys were.

That’s where Bodo had it over Trip, as far as I was concerned. Bodo knew who he was and could make a joke about himself without worrying about being seen as less of a man. But not Trip; making a joke about him would probably get you beat down in a hurry.

I watched Trip and Kowi standing side-by-side, wondering how two close friends out in the old world, like they apparently had been, could become such rivals when the world fell apart like this. What had caused Kowi to become this calm and thoughtful leader, and Trip to become so belligerent and short-fused?

Kowi spoke again, gesturing to Peter. “We need jobs for the three additions to the tribes. Who’s got a spot for Peter?”

One of the Creek girls raised her hand. Trip acknowledged her. “Jen?”

“What can he do?” she asked.

Everyone looked at Peter, who immediately squirmed under the attention. He seemed at a temporary loss for words, so I spoke up for him.

“He’s very good at organizing and cleaning. He’s going to keep my training schedule for all of us, so that’ll keep his brain busy. But he needs to do something with his hands.”

“And not cleaning the outhouse, please,” he said in a meek voice.

Everyone laughed.

“We’ve got a spot for him,” said Jen.

“Good. Get him in the morning tomorrow,” ordered Trip, not even looking at Kowi.

Kowi spoke up. “Anyone in the Miccosukee tribe able to use Peter?”

“Yeah. We could use him. In the weaving hut,” said Coli, narrowing her eyes at Trip.

“I’d like to suggest that Peter spend half his time with you and half with us,” Kowi said to Trip.

Trip thought about it for a second and said, “I agree.” He jerked his thumb at me.

“What about her boyfriend?”

“He’s talking about Bodo,” I clarified, “but he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Really?” said Kowi, looking genuinely surprised. “Sure seemed that way to me.”

“Yeah, well, whatever.” Peter’s words were coming back to me, so I decided not to argue the point. Maybe it was better to just let everyone think what they wanted about us. At least I wouldn’t have to fight off any advances during practice sessions.

“I’d like to take him with us hunting,” said Trip.

“We would also,” said Kowi.

The two chiefs were facing each other, almost like a showdown. The temperature of the place rose as moods shifted.

I spoke without even thinking. “Hey! I have an idea!”

They both looked at me, waiting for me to continue.

I paused, not exactly sure what my idea was. “Um … why … uh … don’t you, like, share him. Share everybody. Everything.”

Trip frowned at me.

Kowi said, “What?” looking just as confused as the other chief.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t very clear was it?” The idea took shape in my mind as I spoke. “What I meant was, why do you continue to live separately? Why don’t you combine forces for everything? Weaving, hunting, cooking. Whatever. Why keep it yours and theirs? Why not ours, as in all indians in Kahayatle?”

“We lost our identity once. We’re not going to do it again,” said Trip.

“No, we didn’t,” said Kowi, dismissing his concerns. “Working together doesn’t change who we are. It just makes us safer.”

“And it makes the most efficient use of your talents and resources,” volunteered Peter from the sidelines.

Everyone looked over at him and he shrank down, looking at the ground. If he could have made a hole open in the ground in front of him, he probably would have stepped into it.

“I don’t agree, personally. But I’m willing to give everyone a vote,” said Trip.

I nodded. It seemed fair.

“Who agrees with Kowi and who agrees with me?” he said, looking out at the group.

I rolled my eyes. “Pfft. Like that’s fair.”

“What?” he asked, trying to act like he didn’t understand what he’d done wrong.

“That’s just intimidation. No one’s going to give you their real opinion if you put it like that.”

“She’s right,” said Kowi. “Either do it the right way or don’t bother. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m going to do what’s right for all of us - not just the Miccosukee. It’s not that long ago that our parents were friends. And so were we.”

“I know that. And so am I. Doing what’s right, I mean,” said Trip, offended. “I’m not trying to hurt anyone here.”

It was a smooth move on Kowi’s part. I tried not to smile at him and get Trip all upset about a possible conspiracy that didn’t exist.

“Let’s have a secret ballot vote,” I said.

Both chiefs looked at me confused.

“Everyone gets … uh … a leaf. And they put the leaf in one basket or another to cast their votes. Behind a tree. So no one can see it.”

Kowi and Trip nodded.

“Everyone find a leaf,” ordered Kowi. Within seconds the whole mass of people was reaching over to grab leaves off the ground, passing them around to friends until everyone had one.

Two baskets made their way up to the front. One was square and one was oblong.

“You want to take over, Nokosi?” asked Kowi, handing me the containers.

“Not really.” I wasn’t kidding either.

“Do it,” said Trip, his voice brooking no argument.

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes his macho act was really annoying.

“Fine.” I spoke up so everyone would hear me, holding up the baskets in my hands above my head. “The square basket is for staying square - everyone staying in his own little box. Keeping the tribes separate. The oblong basket is one big body of water - everyone being part of the Kahayatle as one tribe. Put your leaf in the basket representing the way you want to go. If you want to join the tribes, put it in the round basket. If you want to stay separate, square basket.”

I brought them down to waist-level. “Where should I go?”

“Go sit behind that tree.” Kowi pointed over where Peter was standing.

I nodded and walked towards Peter, gesturing with my head for him to come with me.

“How do we know someone won’t choose one basket over another based on peer pressure?” asked Peter, joining me as I walked behind the tree.

I flipped the baskets over and put them down on the ground with their bottoms up. Luckily they weren’t totally solid and had spaces between the fibers. “Like this. They have to jam their leaves into a hole. They won’t be able to see how many are in either one.”

“Sweet. Man, did you plan that out all ahead of time?”

“Nope. Totally pulled it out of my butt.”

“Nice. Your butt has voting machines in it.”

I shove him gently. “Shut up. It’s a voting system, not a voting machine.”

“Okay. Yeah, that sounds so much better. You have a voting system in your butt.”

“You’d better be quiet or I’m going to cast a vote from my system right now.”

Peter looked at me, horrified. “Can I just say, ew? Ew, Bryn. Ew.”

I shrugged. “You started it.”

The first voters showed up to join us. We could hear the sounds of the group gathering and talking on the other side of the tree as the tribe members mingled, waiting for their turns to come.

I instructed the girl who approached. “Push your leaf into a crack in the basket.”

“Round is for combining, right?” she asked in a soft voice. I recognized her from our training.

“Yep,” I said, smiling as she pushed her leaf through the bottom of the round basket.

She smiled back. “Thanks, Bryn. For everything that you’re doing.”

I was embarrassed by her compliment and momentarily dumbstruck.

Peter spoke up while jabbing me in the ribs with his boney elbow. “She says thank you and that it is her pleasure.”

She giggled. “Bye.”

“Bye,” said Peter.

When she was gone he looked at me. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

“Shush,” I said, as another girl came around the corner. I felt really weird taking thanks from anyone. Everything I was doing, I did for what seemed like selfish reasons. I just wanted a safe place to live for my little family, and to get it, I had to help them. It didn’t seem right, acting like I was being this altruistic nice person they all seemed to think I was.

We repeated our voting instructions for this second girl and the other almost one hundred kids who came behind the tree eventually. It took a really long time, even with several of them coming to vote together, not worrying about hiding their choices from anyone.

When we were finally finished, Trip and Kowi came back and joined Peter and me.

“Is that everyone?” I asked.

“Yeah. What’s the vote?” asked Kowi.

I lifted up the square basket to reveal a small pile of leaves. One of them was Trip’s.

I lifted up the round one, the pile of leaves underneath about five times bigger.

“Well, I guess that’s it, then,” said Trip. “I’ve been out-voted.”