The Savage

Seven

"Jaynie!"

The hesitant call came from behind me and I turned, watching Nettie emerge from the trees, hurrying toward where I stood.

"Jaynie! What did your ma say?" she was breathless, having run for a little way. I regarded her cautiously, despite my rapidly growing liking of her.

"Why do you call me Jaynie, Nettie?"

"Well," shyly she grinned. "I don't wanna get confused in front of your ma, so I figure to just call you what she does. You mad?"

The simple truth pleased me, making me like her more. Shrugging my shoulders, I met her eye.

"No."

"So, Jaynie," she giggled a little. "What'd your ma say?"

"She is trying to understand my ways, and I hers."

Nettie paused, confused.

"She don't ken you? She's your ma..."

"We are different," I responded curtly. "She thinks like a white."

"You don't?"

I spat in disgust, watching Nettie's dark features go from shock to pity.

"She treat you like an Injun, Jaynie, like them kids at school?" Her brown eyes were brimming with sympathy, and it made me uncomfortable. I looked away but her touch on my arm turned me back.

"She ain't like them really, is she?"

"No," the reply was instant, but my cheek was still tender from the harsh blows of last night, and I wondered. Nettie's innocence had brought my mother into bright light, and it hurt my heart. I knew she loved me, but now I fully understood her. Mamma saw me as an Indian first, then her daughter, and she resented it. I had skipped breakfast and raced from the house without talking to her this morning, so we were still unresolved.

"I didn't know Jeb had gone to see your folks 'til he come home. He said your pa was a right nice man, and how perty your ma is. You didn't tell me that."

"She's like the dawn," I muttered absently, my mind far away. What would happen to me if this new baby were a girl-?

"The dawn?" Nettie brought me back to the moment. "Like watchin' the sun rise?"

"Something like that." I allowed a small smile to touch my lips. "What are your parents like?"

"Like me." She grinned, pulling at the thick, bunchy rope that made up her hair. "Ma's hair is longer'n mine, but still real curly, and I have her eyes. Jeb, he's a good lookin' fella, but his face is always itchy 'cause his beard, even though he keeps it shaved close. They both love to sing, and taught me all the old songs, and ever' night we read a little bit from the good book."

"What's that?"

"You ain't never read the bible?" her surprise put my guard up, but I shook my head, expecting a rebuke. She only giggled, grabbing my hand in hers. "I guess Injuns don't have much use for it, but it's got some real nice stories in there."

She talked on endlessly as we walked to school, but I was only half listening. I could not take my mind off the easy, genuine feel of her hand in mine, and how nice it was to finally have someone who didn't care what I looked like, or what blood ran in my veins.

The schoolyard was busy with children when we arrived, but despite a few sullen, disapproving looks, there was no time to bother us. The bell rang, and we all lined up. Miss Hazel watched as we filed inside to take our usual seats, then began class. It was a long day of numbers, letters, and geography, and I had a hard time concentrating, but I forced myself to listen. Both my fathers would want me to, and I had to make an effort to make Mamma happy. When the class dismissed for lunch, Nettie and I settled into a corner of the classroom, near the open window.