And now he has come as he promised. My father steps aside but Agili does not enter. He remains just outside the door. He is a tall, distinguished man, with a long face and a high forehead. He has a reputation for his great intelligence and his honest and forthright ways. Like my father, he served in the Red Stick War, but he did so as a major, a leader of many men. He also is a fluent speaker of English, which is another reason for his position as the head of our village. Dealing with the Aniyonega and helping protect us from the desires of some of them to cheat us and to take even more of our land is another of his jobs. The white men know him as George Lowrey, which was also the name of his white father. However, Agili, He Is Rising, is his true Tsalagi name.

His ears, like many of the men of his generation have lobes that have been cut and stretched so that they hang down almost to his shoulders. He is wearing large, round silver earrings as big as the palm of my hand and a nose ring the size of a silver dollar. Those were made several years ago by my father. His wearing them today is, I think, both a sign that he still respects and sees him as a friend.

“How are things with you, cousin?” Agili asks. His words are polite, but he is still staying on the porch.

My father smiles and nods, rubbing his chin with two fingers as he does so. “They are well,” he says. “And getting better.”

Agili shakes his head. “That is not what I am hearing. Before, people were just whispering about you. Now some of the more foolish ones are saying these things out loud. I have spoken and told them just how foolish they are. But I cannot tell another person what to think. And when someone’s ears are closed to reason, it is hard to convince them that their thoughts are wrong. I am worried for your safety.” Agili looks in at me. “And the safety of your family.”

Sequoyah just nods, the gentle smile still on his face. “Come in,” he says again. “I will show you something.”

Agili is still hesitant. He slowly lifts one foot, like one about to wade into dark water without knowing how deep it is. He lifts his handfto run his finger along his nose. Once, twice, three times. Then he steps over the threshold.

“Osdadu,” my father says. “Good. Now let me show you something.”

He limps over to the table where we are sitting. Agili follows close behind him.