Music of Ghosts Read Online Free PDF

project mostly to take herself out of a deadly dull stream of bankruptcies and estate planning, only to find that negotiating the project required the mediation skills of a diplomat. She’d had to wheedle and cajole tobacco farmers, land developers, swimming pool companies, and at one point, the governing body of the US Little League.
    After the Reverend Brown ended her prayer, the mayor rose. He welcomed everybody in English, then Chief John Oocuma hopped up and said basically the same thing in Cherokee. Mary sneaked a quick glance at the crowd, looking for Jonathan and Lily. They promised they’d sit in the first row, but she couldn’t find them anywhere. Suddenly, she turned, realizing that John Oocuma had switched from Cherokee to English.
    â€œNow, I’d like to introduce someone whose hard work made all this possible—a true friend to both tribe and county, Mary Crow.”
    She blushed as the crowd began to applaud. Usually she spoke only to juries in courtrooms. Never had she addressed a crowd of thousands, as a “friend to tribe and county.” Taking a deep breath, she clutched the notes she’d scribbled last night and walked to the podium.
    â€œA year ago, our children had to pursue their sports dreams elsewhere. They had to go to Sylva to swim, to Swain County to play baseball, to Waynesville for their soccer and tennis matches,” Mary said. “Today, all that is history. Today, we of Pisgah County can swim and compete on our home turf.”
    The crowd cheered. Someone blew a vuvuzela horn. Mary went on.
    â€œThough I appreciate the credit Chief Oocuma gave me, this park would not have happened without the hard work of the citizens of Pisgah County, and the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Indians. But even beyond all our good efforts, this time we had an angel in Raleigh who loosened the state’s purse strings and cut through several miles of red tape. We’re lucky to have her with us today, to open the Pisgah-Cherokee Sports Park.” As the crowd began to clap again, Mary turned to the dignitaries seated behind her. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my privilege to introduce the honorable Ann Chandler, governor of North Carolina.”
    The cheering grew to a thunderous crescendo. The last governor to set foot in Pisgah County was Jackson Carlisle Wilson, back when Gerald Ford sat in the White House. That the current chief executive would take the time to come and open their sports park had the county bursting its collective buttons. Mary stepped back from the podium as a diminutive blonde in a white linen pantsuit rose from her chair. Chandler waved to the crowd as she came to the microphone. Mary was about to re-take her seat, when the governor pulled her close.
    â€œRemind me again how to say ‘play ball’ in Cherokee.”
    â€œ Doyust uhlskult dah dahnay zohn. ” Mary whispered, hoping she could hear her above all the cheering.
    â€œGot it.” The governor winked at her and smiled. “Thanks.”
    Grateful to have finished her part of the program, Mary sat down. As the chief executive began her remarks, she again searched the crowd for Jonathan and Lily; again she could not find them. She guessed this was yet another example of Jonathan’s recent strangeness. He’d spent the past month in Oklahoma with Lily, on a court-ordered visitation with his late wife’s parents. She’d missed them terribly, and when they finally rolled back down the driveway, she assumed that their lives would go on as before. That had not happened. Lily had returned moody and petulant, and Mary had felt a coldness in Jonathan’s kiss, as if something had disconnected his lips from his heart. As the weeks passed, she knew she should just ask him if he’d found someone younger or prettier in Oklahoma, but when an appropriate moment came, she always lost her nerve. She was thinking that today might be the day to ask that question when