I tried to be in a better mood for our sight-seeing plans. We saw a tree, a tractor, and I think a couple cows. Needless to say, by the time we had to turn back to the school, I was spent.
Adam's advice stole over me while I was busy thinking about why Caleb had turned out to be such a jerk. You'll see how it made you better. There was a piece of me missing now that I had to recreate (or forgive its absence) because even if he tried, Caleb couldn't give it back. It had turned to ash in his hands the day he skipped off with Carly Ferguson and left me in the dark to figure out where the hell we went wrong.
I certainly knew now.
Caleb had grown about a foot in the last year, lost his acne, and filled out. Not to mention his thick, surfer blonde hair and those sea blue eyes. He'd gone from an insecure sweetheart to a handsome narcissist and, suddenly, I wasn't good enough for him anymore. Well, fine! Good riddance, I thought. He was going to have a hard time finding another girl who loved him more than he loved himself because I wasn't going to do it anymore.
I had to forget about him. Today, I was going to force myself to be in a good mood even if it killed me. Nothing was going to stop me from forcing myself to be happy. Nothing!
Well, except maybe my mother rehearsing her speech on the drive to the school. It was going to be hard, but I wasn't going to let even that bother me now. If I was going to secretly become a nicer person to my family, this would have to be overlooked. The scary part of this "little" speech, though, was that other people were actually going to hear it, and when Mom digressed to ramble on about her troubled childhood, I knew God was testing me.
Patience, Charli.
"Oh! We're here already!" I exclaimed, eager to spare myself the monologue Mom intended to share with the unfortunate and unsuspecting Sioux at the ceremony.
The air whispered at me, its foreign tongue hissing in my ear. This time, it seemed to have taken a subtle liking to me, and I felt less hesitant about being dragged to the emptiness of this peaceful place.
Rowan met us at the front of the school and led us to a conference room where a handful of people were talking. He introduced us to a leathery-faced old man called Raven Sky, the medicine man of their community. Raven Sky wore his soot gray hair in two loose braids that fell over the shoulders of his beaded tunic. Crow's feet were the most predominant trails on his well-worn skin, which led me to believe he laughed a lot. He would be performing the ceremony that would cleanse the pipe and show gratitude to our family for bringing it back. Rowan helped arrange collapsible chairs as Raven Sky continued to explain the breakdown of events in the last few minutes before more people trickled into the conference room.
It wasn't long before every seat was filled with rows of dark eyes watching us stand beside the podium. I could see my dad begin to fidget with his shirtsleeves. He hated standing in front of an audience. Even if all we had to do was stand there while the medicine man spoke words we couldn't understand, my dad was still nervous.
For the first time, I actually understood what Erin had said to me before I left, and I welcomed the prideful feeling. Raven Sky's beautiful voice filled the room with its warm, deep body as he held the sacred pipe in each hand and clouded the air with thick incense. He took an eagle feather and brushed it over every member of our family, chanting throughout the ritual. When he was done and the ceremony completed, I knew, one day, the painful time of losing my boyfriend would be overshadowed by the memory of bringing a peace pipe back to its people over a century after it was stolen.
Then Mom gave her speech. It wasn't half bad.
Adam was the first to check out the banquet table after the event, and while he devoured a plate of chips, I examined the pictures on the walls. Most of them were of Sitting Bull. From reading the tag beside the picture I learned he was an infamous medicine man who had defeated General Custard at the Battle of the Little Big Horn with an army he'd formed of independent plains tribes.
I felt sad reviewing the pictures depicting their victory—strong braves riding home on their ponies to the women and children who loved them. Painted smiling faces, lit with the warmth of success. Hope couldn't have spared the whole of the Native American nation that eventually fell prey to the invasion of arriving foreigners. Part of me wished there had been a land untouched by the greed that ravaged this ancient world; part of me wanted to know there was such a place where the first Americans still lived today as they had since the beginning of time.
I turned away from the faces captured on the canvas and found myself greeted by the faces of three young Lakota men. They all towered above me, brown eyes twinkling with flirtation.
"Hi! I'm Charli," I said, offering a hand. I spent the rest of the hour talking to the handsome braves in front of me instead of staring at the ones from the past.
Finally, my dad interrupted, leading me away by the elbow with a firm hand.
"All right, Miss Popular, go wait in the car. I'll get Adam and Mom."
Fathers, I thought, always so overprotective. But did anyone say anything when Adam nodded at that waitress in the restaurant the other night? No! The double standard really wasn't fair.
I guess I didn't care too much, anyway. It was reassuring to know people still found me appealing after such a big blow to my ego. It was fun to flirt, but my singlehood was fresh and a bit raw after Caleb had ripped off the relationship band-aide.
I sat in the car, staring at my phone, and waited for my family to join me. I sent a text to Erin and heaved a little sigh of relief when she replied, grateful for communication with a friend.
I explained the ceremony as best I could through texts and smiled at her enthusiastic response. Sometimes the encouraging friend is better than the agreeable one. If I had called Annie or Michelle the night I'd found out about the peace pipe expedition, I think I would have embraced their sympathies a little too heartily. It would have only left me to linger in a fiery rage of self-pity. All I needed was an outsider to show me a different perspective.
I closed my phone when Erin said she had to go down to the marina to feed the stray cats, and admired the sky. The cool air brushed against my skin from the open car door and for a moment I just let myself breathe, listening to the rhythm of my lungs doing their primitive job, and tried to find that same degree of peace I had felt only a handful of times in my life.
In and out. I could touch the air and hold it in my hands before it slipped away.
In and out. Every blade of grass tapping its neighbor in the steady breeze made a roar of life in this quiet land.
In and... What the hell was that?!
I jumped upright and completely forgot about breathing. Far in the distance, someone was standing at the top of a hill in the grass. My eyes couldn't focus—they weren't capturing the image of whatever moved along out there before slipping out of sight below the knoll. It had seemed human at first, but moved more like an animal.
I felt a sudden pang of terror, slammed my car door, and called my brother.
"Come on, Adam!" I whispered into the phone, only to sigh with relief when I saw him walking out with our parents.
"What, Charli? Why are you calling me?"
"What took you guys so long? There's something in the plains out there!"
Everyone searched the horizon before turning back to me with the same doubtful expression.
"You might have seen a deer or something, honey," Mom replied and got into the passenger seat to secure her seat belt. "Wasn't that just amazing, you guys?"
"Wait! I swear it wasn't a deer!"
Dad evaluated me through the rearview mirror with a concerned furrow in his brow.
"What did you see then, Charli?"
I always knew my dad would hear me out.
"I don't know!" I didn't know why I was so worked up either. "It looked like a man, watching from the distance, but then I thought it was a bear. Do bears come down this far? Oh my gosh, it was creepy!"
Now it was Adam's turn to make fun of me. "No, it probably was a bear. Sometimes when I'm driving, I mistake them for people all the time. The similarities are uncanny."
"Shut up Adam!"
"And you're sure it wasn't a deer?" Mom tried again, which pissed me off more.
"No! It wasn't a deer! It was a bear... I think. Maybe a bear and a man were both out there. What if it was a bear attack?"
Dad offered to call the ranger's office and make a report, which somewhat deflated the others' urges to add their two cents. Of course, he'd say it in an adult, man-about-business way that wouldn't make the rangers laugh at him, but he'd do it all the same. For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to feel safe in the arms of parental security. By the time we got back to the hotel, I had almost forgotten about ever seeing anything wandering in the wilderness with its eye on the distant school.
* * *
We woke the next morning and prepared to make the trip to our new house. My family was taking their sweet time, chatting with the breakfast staff and sipping crappy coffee. Someone knew someone who knew someone that was from California and by some endearing small town logic, thought we would actually know this "Fred" something or other. I must confess, not all of my hostility over becoming a Dakota captive had dissolved the day of the ceremony, even if it had been somewhat "memorable." But enough already! I was sick of using that tiny hotel soap.
I drifted back and forth between the lobby and the breakfast hall and couldn't help but overhear the receptionists' gentle murmurs in the office. I guessed that they weren't watching the cameras to see if anyone approached the front desk. If they had, they wouldn't have continued their odd conversation.
"How many are missing?" one man's voice whispered.
"Twelve." The responding voice was ancient and raspy.
"That's why he was here then?"
The other man had no chance to answer. He must have seen me waiting by the desk, because, after some hushing, someone came out to greet me. It was the same Lakota man that had given me cookies the other night, and he forced a smile that didn't warm his eyes.
"Can I help you, Miss?"
I froze for half a second. I hadn't been prepared to explain why I was standing at the front desk, but I was pretty good at improvising.
"Oh, good morning. Is this where we return our hotel keys?"
The man's wariness faded away as he turned to business again and by freak fortune, I had been clutching my room key card. I was desperate to turn it over and leave, anyway.
"Of course! Thank you for bringing it down. How was your stay?"
"Fine, thank you."
"Well, have a safe journey home to...?"
"California. Well, we're from California, but we're not going back."
"Ah, you've just moved here, then? Welcome. This is a great state; you're going to love it!"
Only if I get to eat myself into a food coma and hibernate all winter...
Once we were on the road again, I found the small speck of conversation I had heard in the lobby clinging to my mind. "That's why he was here then?" It replayed in my head and the image of those dark eyes wouldn't leave me alone. They must have been talking about the stranger I had let in the side door the other night. They sounded just as awed and fearful as they had the night he appeared. It was another thought that disturbed me more: twelve people were missing.