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Authors: Raven St. Pierre

BOOK: Red Sun
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I felt like I should just go back up the hill and give him his privacy, but I was too curious to break my gaze.  I assumed he was one of the locals my father spoke of from the nearby Reservation which means that it must be just beyond the river.  To be less obvious and to ensure that I’d get to watch him as long as I wanted, I moved behind the tree beside me.  My Mohican, as I dubbed him for convenience, stood at the edge of the river and stretched as he gazed up into the trees above.  He had no idea I was spying.  I told myself again that I ought to just go back to the path and head to the house, but I didn’t budge.  I focused intently on him when he turned around to place something on a nearby rock.  A large tattoo nearly covered every inch of skin on his back.  I couldn’t make out what any of it was, but it was complex; this much I could tell. 

             
When he faced me again, he backed up a few yards, and I thought he was about to get a running start toward the water, but instead, he started unbuttoning his shorts and pulled them down before I had the chance to turn away – at least I think I would’ve turned away.  He tossed them aside, still staring at the water, and then ran full speed toward the lake, jumping in and creating an enormous splash.  My mouth hung open.  I’d just seen way more of my Mohican than I intended. 

             
I waited impatiently for him to come back up, like a kid watching out their window for Santa Claus on Christmas.  Finally after nearly a minute, he resurfaced, pushing his hair and the water out of his face before opening his eyes.  He floated there treading water and I could do nothing but stare at him; wet, beautiful him.

             
I shifted my weight to one foot and leaned slightly against the tree that hid me.  Without thought, I continued to stalk him with my eyes and started thinking.  If he was a representation of what awaited me on the other side of that river, living here in Conway might not be as bad as I thought after all.  I mean, who knows?  Maybe there was more to this place than dirt and bugs and a creepy old house that smelled like a tomb.  Maybe my dad was right; perhaps now would be a great time to start thinking outside the box. 

             
I smiled to myself and swiped a bug off my arm while I continued to watch.  I was mesmerized – completely absorbed in watching this stranger as he swam.  Apparently, I was more preoccupied than I realized.  I felt movement at the back of my neck and automatically assumed that it was a bee or a wasp or something like that.  Not knowing that it was only one of my braids that came loose from my ponytail holder, I completely flipped out and blew my cover.  I immediately started screaming bloody murder like I was being mauled by a bear and ran out from behind the tree, swiping wildly at the back of my neck.  To me, it felt like something had just landed on me and my first reaction was to get it off by any means necessary before it embedded itself in my skin and laid eggs in me or something.  After a few seconds of thrashing around like a crazy woman, I finally discovered the fallen braid and felt like the biggest idiot ever. 

             
My heart was racing as I stood there panting, way past feeling embarrassed.  I’d gone from staring at
him
from the shadows to all of a sudden becoming the center of attention.  From the corner of my eye, I looked his way.  Of course he was watching, trying to figure out what was going on.  Instead of standing there and pretending to be invisible like I wanted to, I quickly made a b-line up the hill to search for the path at the top.  Without turning around, I knew that he was still watching me, probably trying to decide whether or not to press charges.  I held onto the trees again and tried to make as graceful an exit as possible, but failed miserably.  In my haste, my foot slipped from beneath me and I went down like the Titanic.  I fell flat on my face and slid back down the hill on my stomach, scraping my knees and elbow along the way.  I was certainly paying the price for snooping. 

             
When I finally stopped sliding, I lay there; both stunned and in pain.  I wanted to cry, but my pride wouldn’t let me.  Twigs were sticking me in every surface of my body and yet, I still couldn’t pull myself up.  I drew my outstretched arms back toward my body and placed the palms of my hands on the ground to try to escape again.  Just as I lifted my head, I could hear the water sloshing behind me and I knew he’d swam across to help.  How mortifying; my fall must’ve been so bad that he felt the need to come to my rescue despite the fact that he was naked.  There was no way I wanted him to look at me all dirty and scratched up, so I quickly got up, groaned when I stretched my stinging limbs and took off running at top speed without ever even looking back to see if he’d made it all the way to my side of the river. 

             
If I’d been nearly as nimble when climbing the hill as I was as I sprinted toward the house, I would’ve been alright.  I jumped over debris on the path like I’d run track all my life; pain and embarrassment make you do some strange things.  By the time I made it back to the house, I was tired, winded and sweating.  I had to rest on the porch for a long time while I waited to catch my breath.  Eventually, I was able to make it inside where I immediately walked to the kitchen sink to put some cool water on my wounds.  Now that the adrenaline wasn’t affecting me anymore, I felt every gash.  Both knees were scraped pretty badly and my elbows too. 

             
I felt so stupid.  If I were lucky, the police wouldn’t show up at my door and haul me off to jail for what I’d done.  Although it wasn’t totally my fault.  Who swims naked?  That’s why swimsuits were created.  So, if I was going to take part of the blame for looking, my Mohican would have to take part of the blame for showing. 

             
I gasped when my father suddenly came through the front door.  I was so lost in thought that I hadn’t even noticed him pulling up to the house.  He saw me sitting on the edge of the counter nursing my wounds and immediately came over to investigate.

             
“What’d you do?” He asked

             
“Reminded myself why me and nature don’t get along,” I replied.  “I went for a walk and fell trying to get up a hill.”  Naturally I left out the part that involved the naked man that started the whole mess.

             
He shook his head.  “Well, are you alright?”

             
I nodded.             

             
His eyes drifted down to my scrapes and then back up to my face.  He’d missed the phase in my life when I was learning to ride a bike, so seeing me hurt was a new experience for him.  Not to mention, after my sister passed, he became protective enough over
me
for the both of us. 

             
“It’s a good thing I got home early.  You would’ve bled out by the time I got here,” he joked as he walked over to his suitcase and grabbed out a small first aid kit.  A few band-aids later, I was as good as new.  Well, except for the fact that I was starving and my ego was probably bruised more than my body.  I looked at the ragged clock on the wall and saw that it was already a quarter after four.  I’d gone the entire day without eating and my stomach protested loudly enough that my dad heard it too.

             
“Yeah, sorry about there not being any food, but I stopped at the store on my way home and picked up a few things.”

             
“Good, cause I’m about two seconds from grabbing one of those birds and throwing it in a skillet.”

             
He laughed and then went back to the car to grab the grocery bag.  When he set it on the counter, I had high hopes.  I could really go for a burger, or maybe some lasagna; either one would do.  But to add to the crappiness of my day, he pulled out two huge cans of Spaghetti-O’s.  I stared at them and thought about how appealing that moldy Zebra Cake in the cabinet was starting to sound. 

             
My dad grabbed two bowls from the box on the counter and a can opener.  Rather than pulling out a pot and doing it the right way, he dumped half a can in a bowl for him and the other half in a bowl for me.  This was not the meal I had in mind after the day I’d had.  I watched the microwave, waiting for my portion to finish and got frustrated.  I’d forgotten that Alicia was the only one in the house who had any sort of cooking ability which meant me and my dad were in for an interesting six months. 

             
I sat at the table and ate, pretending it was something better.  My dad, on the other hand, didn’t have any problem.  He wolfed it down like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.  In fact, he didn’t even speak again until he’d finished. 

             
“So, aside from your fall, how was your day?”

             
“Fine, I guess.”  An image of my Mohican flashed in my head again and I smiled a little. 

             
That made my dad suspicious.  “Just fine?”

             
I straightened my face.  “Yeah, fine.  What about you?  How was your first day?”

             
He got up to take his things to the sink.  “It was work I guess.  Johnson didn’t show up again, so I think I’m gonna have to let him go.  He does this at least once every couple weeks. You’d think he would’ve learned by now, so it doesn’t make sense to keep him around if I can’t rely on him.”

             
“That’s bold; I like him.”

             
My dad laughed.  “I like him too, but it takes more than that to keep your job.  For instance you have to show up.”

             
“I know.”

             
He rinsed his glass and sat it on the counter.  “Speaking of jobs,” he paused.  “I think I may have found you one.”

             
Me being here was not supposed to be about finding a job.  I know my face was looking crazy because I was shocked.  Shocked and appalled.  Only he could come way out here to Conway and scrounge up the only available job in the county.  “What?”  I asked, exasperated.

             
“I met a guy today; I think his name was Ted.  Anyway, we got to talking and I told him all about you and how you’d be stuck here with nothing to do.”  He smiled.  “Turns out his sister owns a flower shop on the Reservation and she’s been looking for help.”

             
“And there isn’t
anybody
else?  I mean, isn’t it against some sort of law for a non-Native American to work on a Reservation.”

             
He laughed.  “Solei, they can do whatever they want.  And fortunately for you, they want you to come help out.  In fact he called her while I was standing there with him and she wants you to start Wednesday morning.  So, tomorrow’s your last day to…..wrestle with the ground or whatever it is you did today,” he said, looking at my band-aids.  “She needs you there by eight.”

             
“Eight!?!  Who’s even up that early to buy flowers?  That’s ridiculous,” I protested.  I’d gotten up early for school the past 13 years including Kindergarten, and as far as I was concerned, graduating put an end to that. 

             
“Don’t start.  At least you’ll have some spending money in your pocket.”

             
“Yeah, and nowhere to spend it.  This place is a social graveyard; no malls, no movie theatres, I don’t know how they live!”

             
He rolled his eyes and turned his back on me.  “Ok, well, I suppose we’ll finish this conversation when you’ve finished with your diva routine.  But like it or not, you’re going.”  With that, he left the kitchen and disappeared in the bathroom.  I continued to sit at the table with my arms folded while I thought.  Why would he put me at a flower shop of all places?  He knows I hate anything having to do with plants and dirt or anything like that.  This was definitely going to suck.  My temporary stay in Hell just became even more unbearable than before. 

             
That night, my dad went to bed early, so I entertained myself by talking to Tarik.  “Maybe I can pretend to be allergic to something in the shop and they’ll say I can’t work there.”

             
Tarik was silent for a moment.  “You have to be the dumbest person on Earth.  What do you have against not being a loser?  I’ve never seen somebody who goes through the stuff you do to keep from having to work.  Besides, you owe me $150 for the concert, so you need this job.”

             
“I thought you said it was $75?”

             
“It was, but you owe me for my ticket too cause it was your fault I had to miss it,” he explained.

             
“Shut up and help me think of something.”  I paced back and forth in my room.

             
Tarik sighed into the phone. 

             
“What now?”  I asked.

             
“Nothing,” he lied. 

             
“Since when have you held your tongue?  Just say it!”  I demanded harshly.

             
“It’s just you, man.  You so
lazy
!  That’s real unattractive in a girl.”  I pictured him making the face I knew he was making on the other end.  It’s the one where it looks like he just smelled something real funky.

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