This debut creative non-fiction,
Siueattle (Seattle), Chief of the native Duwamish tribe for more than a significant part of the 1800s, awakens from a continuous nightmare-or so he thought. He soon feels in his bones that these sleepless nights are premonitions. These visions aren't clear, but what remained of his ancestral territory and the region which the "pioneers" look to colonize will succumb to a great fire. An unlikely ally and dear friend of Seattle is one of those pioneers and local doctor, David "Doc" Maynard.
They knew their relationship and that their people's problems would outlive them. Chief Seattle would grow fond of a Duwamish boy named Catóri (Ca-tar-ri) and Doc of a young orphaned girl whom he took under his wing and later became an extension of himself, Milá. These two would bare witness to the town's tribulations as they leaped frog across the 19th century.
Seattle and Doc's bond is the bridge by which both societies and their tittering communities seek guidance. So it was music to the pioneers and other invested parties' ears when they found out about the great chief "premonitions" and surmised it was his deteriorating health that they would capitalize on by moving a chess piece off the board. Doc thought it would be an act of good faith if the pioneers named the town they were gifted after the great chief, but they had other plans. By getting Seattle and his Duwamish tribe to sign a treaty outlining territory limits, fishing, and hunting rights, the pioneers had the native tribe right where they wanted them-at least Arthur Denny, one of the region's first pioneers and politician, did when he had his fingers crossed. Prompting the fight of which all other skirmishes would be measured, the Battle of Seattle.
With Seattle on his deathbed and Doc unable to rely on his medical practice to save his friend, he loses faith in a peaceful coalition between the region stewards. His belief takes on a new form in Milá and Catóri as their connection and will to ensure the native people aren't written out of the history pages. As they come into their own, they try to discover different ways to skin a cat by making sure Seattle's dying wish, of making sure the town doesn't burn, but the one thing they'll go to their grave not having said publicly is their affection for one another.
As the city sees an uptick in the colonial population over the next few decades, thanks mainly to the town's famous business district, its fate was preordained with help from the town's leading wood supplier, which built most of the structures Henry Yesler and his mill. One of those businesses would be the reason for Seattle's premonitions coming to fruition-that and a foreigner by the name of John Back and his infamous mistake with a glue pot in 1889 that ignites one of the worst fires to date. The Emerald City rises from those ashes like a phoenix, but only the "spirit" of the town of Seattle knows-that's not the fire to which the once great chief referred.
