at Malcolm and shrugged. “But yes. My mother and her younger sister were taken hostage during the massacre. Their elder sister was away from the mission at the time and escaped harm.”
“So your aunt and mother did not escape harm. What exactly happened to them?”
Faith had no intention of betraying her mother’s situation during that time period. “Mr. Stanley, I am curious as to why you are asking these questions. We are seeking to join hearts and minds together, not remind people of past hostilities.”
“Be that as it may, the thirty-year anniversary of the trial of the Cayuse warriors who were responsible is this year, and the newspaper intends to do a series of articles on what happened and how that affected the community. That, coupled with your family’s desire to help the Indians now, is rather fascinating, don’t you think? I believe readers will want to know more about this and better understand why women who were held captive and forced to endure God only knows what would now desire to help their captors.”
“While I believe the love of God is what compels my mother and aunt to help those who did them wrong, I hardly see this as a time to bring up the ugliness of the past. I would prefer you write nothing about us. We want to put aside those bitter events and focus instead on how we might all live together in peace and harmony.”
“Peace and harmony don’t sell papers,” he replied, grinning. “Now, will you tell me what you know about the attack?”
Faith looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. “No, Mr. Stanley. I won’t.”
The final tally showed that they had raised three hundred and eighty-six dollars to aid the Indians. Faith was pleased with the amount and immediately penned a letter to her aunt Mercy. In it, she asked for a list of anything and everything that was most needed. She also asked what particular illnesses were most prevalent at the moment. The college gave medication to the poor on occasion, and Faith had suggested Malcolm speak to President Parrish about whether the college might donate some for the reservation. Otherwise, she was going to speak to Andrew about where they might be able to secure medication and blankets at a wholesale price.
By the time Monday rolled around and Faith headed off to school, she was all but floating on air. Many people had spoken to her at church, promising to add to the funds, while others were hoping Faith would again lecture and speak of her time with the Tututni in even more detail.
She thought about her life on the Rogue River as she walked to the trolley stop. Every day the cleanup and restoration brought life a little closer to the way it had been before the storm, but it would still be a long while before the residential neighborhoods got much attention. Downtown and its businesses were of the utmost importance, and the massive number of downed trees still commanded everyone’s focus.
When she finally reached the trolley stop, Faith could hardly feel her toes for the cold. She was grateful that her wait was less than five minutes and even happier when they made it to the college in record time.
“The president is looking for you,” Malcolm said as she made her way to the table where they usually gathered before lectures.
“Did he say why?” Faith pulled off her gloves and tucked them into her coat pockets.
“No, just that you were to come see him first thing before classes.”
Faith nodded. “Maybe he heard about our success and is willing to let us host the lectures here. Wouldn’t that be nice?” She hoisted her satchel on her shoulder. “Take notes for me if I don’t get to class before the lecture starts.”
“I will.”
Faith made her way to President Parrish’s office. She smiled at the secretary. “I’m Faith Kenner.”
“Yes, I know that,” the man answered, seeming rather irritated by the interruption. “Take a seat, and I’ll let Mr. Parrish know you’re here.”
Faith did as he instructed and began unbuttoning her coat. Everything seemed to be so rushed this morning. She hoped it wasn’t the way the entire day would go. She glanced at a copy of The Oregonian newspaper on the reception table and noticed her name.
Picking up the paper, she began to read Mr. Stanley’s story about her lecture. He embellished several of her comments, making her life among the Tututni sound far more harrowing than it really