Wa-Le-Lu
Chapter Six
Ask questions from you heart and you will be answered from the heart.
–Omaha
There is a story about that my folks tell about the coyote and fire. How he taught man to rub two sticks to create fire upon which men were able to keep warm all for the ability to help a human woman. Me on the other hand found the story a lot like a dripping sack of poison. But as I wept in my sleep to a man with an arrow in his heart, and a burning blue flame in his hands. I knew- fire at whatever cost we have gotten it — made us pay the price that many others would not.
I awoke with a startle with my little twitter bird singing in panic. Danger. My eyes fluttering open caught in the distance a pair of eyes glaring back at me. A pair of non-human eyes glowing the color of leaf green.
“Go-s-du. (Ashes)” A voice like the scraping of a knife echoed. It came from the glowing eyes that in the midnight silver belonged to a small squirrel. Lost and alone my twitter bird kept her distance. Fluttering near my ear in fear. “Si-s-qui-li-s-da.( Blackbird.)”
Talking squirrels is now a thing. I heaved a sigh. Darkness greeting me as I twisted to try to leave the area. If there was one thing I’m learning its that talking animals has begun to creep me out more than the Un-Ne-Ga horror movies.
My feet began to pound against grass and then pavement. Pavement and bright lights with cars whizzing past me like gazelle in the wild. The fluttering talking humming bird disappeared with the shaking stomp of reality. I could taste the steam of car exhaust passing in the air. Society. Life. Roaring like a lion buses drove by leaving black dust behind.
I looked down at my tattered clothes. No one would help me out here. Not when my outfit screamed homeless teenager like a missing poster sign. Taking one step a a time with my bare feet scraping on glass every now and then told me the type of people the Un-Ne-Ga are at night. The type that ignore people.
Humming a song through my lips I continued to head for the city. A place I’ve never been. My mother might like the Un-Ne-Ga society. But as there will always be a but. She found their values lacked in substance. Seeing the bright lights in front of me glaring down on the sidewalk. I could see why.
Walking towards a boy with a hoodie and pale skin. Hanging from his ears strings that lead to rhythms and words. I went to side step him but he reached out grasping my coffee skin tight. “Hey,” Ripping one cord from his ear. “You look lost.”
“I damn well am lost. I came out of the forest-” Puzzlement bestowed his face. Ice eyes glistening from the moon told me who he was. Danger.
“What forest? There is only water beyond the grass.”
“I came out of the forest.” The boy looked at my dirt face trying to figure out if I was delirious or just a homeless girl.
“Sure you did.” He grabbed my hand yanking me with him as we headed for the bright lights of the city. A tribal member was supposed to escort me back to the tribe at the meeting point. I either came out of the forest early, or ended up being forgotten about. The latter being more likely.
Cars zoomed by me sounding like roaring airplanes above my head. Streetlights flickered like the old torches in the stables that were age old and often causes of barn fires. The sidewalk cold but grounded by glass and ash from both bottles and cigarettes. My left toe welling up with blood already from a cut.
“Your not serious?” I twirled to see that all that remained behind us was clean cut grass and a lake. Did I venture through that not realizing how far away the forest was? I shook my head. No. The forest had to have been within a few feet.
“I mean what else am I supposed to be? An illusionist?” A smirk crossed his devilish face. Lingering in my nose is the stench of forest on my body. I smelled like mud, animal, and beastly compared to the smooth scent of men’s cologne and carbon dioxide from cars.
“A ghost?” He huffed at that like I was a comedian for a job that I didn’t sign up for.
“One that appears physical and can talk but really is dead? I could see that.” Strange as it was he never slinked away from me because of my smell. If you smelled like animals people tended to treat you like a stray cat and deem you a stranger upon eyesight.
“How about we go to my place and clean you up.”
“My mother always told me to be weary of strangers.”
“Do you always listen to your mother cause I mean she sent you into the abyss of a grass patch apparently?”
“I don’t even know your name I am not liable to answer that.”
“Certainty you would like to wash up and cleanse the dirt and blood off your feet?” He arches an eyebrow at me as if I wasn’t born of the barbarians that had their lands taken from us long ago.
“I’d rather eat dirt than take the hospitality of a stranger.” I waved my hand in dismissiile having no idea if I had to trek through the city or go over the bridge that had no sidewalk on it. My head moved back and forth consistently rocking the choices back and forth inside my head.
“If you need a name its Ken. Lame I know. You probably wanted some mysterious name like Caliper or Jameson. Nope. Just plain old Ken.”
Ken is nice. Better than Silska.” He coughed in laughter at my strange name. Being born from another culture meant carrying a name that most thought to shorten to Silk.
“Silska with Cinamen eyes and caramel coffee skin. I like the sound of that. So are we still strangers now?”
A smile spread along my traitorous face and as my bare hands began to chill from the night air. I decided to risk this stranger’s hand of help knowing that the consequence would be twelve whippings from Grandpa when I get home.
We wandered into the city. A well dressed boy and a homeless girl if one was to judge based on appearances. The city is like an animal zoo. I use to only see it by the buildings that stretched into the sky like human built trees. But as we entered deeper into the catacombs of the city it was obvious who ran the night. Creatures of the night. Men and women who ruled by not following the social order or the regular means of life.
A man spread out his raw hands at me and I grimaced as I realized that I too had no spare cash on my person. Frowning as I walked away Ken side stepped to being closer to the pan handling side taking note of the tattered clothing I was wearing in the crisp air. He shed the hoodie off his back and put it on me. I shivered at the raw explosion of sounds around me.
The reserve back home at this time would be silent. So silent you could hear the sound of your breath in the air. Ken lead me past the tall commercial buildings to an old slick back place where small apartments rested. In his hand keys jangled. Some not belonging to the door that he lead me to as we passed fence after fence and mailbox after awkwardly ajar mailbox. Then we reached his front door. Just like in a horror movie you know you made a mistake when all the lights are off.
“You live here on your own?”
“Isn’t it usual for a twenty three year old man to live on his own.” Gulp. Illegal. That was what I was to him. Illegal in Un-Ne-Ga law. He flipped on the switch letting bright florescent light scream into my eyes that had gotten used to the night. “Sorry. Better to get use to the light now.”
“Why is there so little furniture?”
“When you live on your own finances are like snow flakes. You can’t catch up.” He heaved a laugh. “But more importantly you should go take a warm shower to get all that grime off your tattered clothes.”
I blinked at the stack of college books in the corner of what looked like a half finished living room. But my attention fluctuated by the pointing of his finger to a door to my left. Without saying a word I walked into the small bathroom ripping the curtains off away to let me stumble into it. Turning the knob to a steaming, cindering, and scorching temperature.
When I stepped out of the volcano droplets my skin speckled with water and a pair of clean clothes was tossed into the room. My hair looked like a lion’s main but it was better than what it was before being an entangled mess.
