by Karen Glista
“Begging,” Anna said with haunting eyes. “That’s exactly what I want.”
“If I may be so bold. How old are you?”
“Forty-eight,” Anna replied without emotion.
“Oh my God, I was thinking thirty-five at best. You have such great skin and your cheekbones…I’d kill for them. Did you get them done locally?”
“No,” Anna breathed with a glint in her eyes. “I’m Chippewa,” she admitted for the first time in forever, “it’s in the genes.”
“Well you don’t even look like the same woman who came through that door,” she laughed. “Now, how about a manicure?”
“Of course,” Anna smiled, “and red polish please.”
An hour later, while standing outside the salon, caught up in a jungle of people, cars and blustery winds, Anna hailed a cab. “Methodist Hospital,” she said, checking her watch for time as the cab sped away.
After a twenty-minute drive in bumper to bumper traffic, the cab delivered her to the hospital entry. After checking into Outpatient, she was introduced to her nurse, a tall thin brunette named Pam. The nurse had a sense of humor that set you at ease and within no time, Anna felt her tension slipping away. After inserting an IV with a saline drip, the plastic surgeon stuck his head from around the privacy drape.
“This will only take about thirty minutes, Mrs. Bellanger, just a small incision inside the hairline on both sides of your temples, a few internal sutures and a little surgical glue, and you’ll be up and running within a few hours, that is if you don’t have any bleeding problems.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have a rare blood type, actually the first of its kind I’ve ever encountered. Hopefully you won’t bleed, because without packed cells, we will have no choice but to keep you overnight and use volume expanders until you stabilize. I don’t anticipate problems, but I must inform you of the risk. Do you wish to proceed?”
“Yes.”
“Very well, we will need a signed consent.”
“I understand.”
My cursed blood rears its ugly head again.
She met his gaze. “How long to heal?”
“Barring complications, around forty-eight hours. Then you can resume your regular activities.”
Anna closed her eyes as they wheeled her into the operating room, Donja’s smile playing in her mind. Two hours later, after her nip and tuck, Anna had the IV removed, her vital signs normal. She was then taken by wheelchair out front to a waiting cab.
Back in downtown Chicago, she checked into a hotel and spent the evening alone, deep in thought. Sleep came at a great expense, tormented by nightmares stronger and more horrific than she remembered.
Then next day, with the signature windy city missing its blustery quality, she spent a half day at Fredrick’s of Hollywood, assisted by two clerks, Theresa and Donita, who brought her up to date on the latest fashions. She bought minis and skin-tight skirts, sheer blouses and lingerie. She eyed the growing stack atop the counter, not her style, yet now they were essential. Two boutiques later, with boxes of stiletto heels, jewelry, perfumes and a black leather shoulder bag, she hailed a cab to the train station. Exhausted, she settled in and flipped out her cell. She texted Lisa.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m coming for a visit.”
“Wonderful!” Lisa texted back. “Frankie and Donja will be thrilled. What’s your flight info?”
Anna texted back. “Flight from Grand Rapids on Wednesday, arriving at 6:55 PM.”
“Wonderful, just two more days. Carson will pick you up. Till then, we love you.”
“You too,” Anna texted back, tears welling in her eyes. She closed the phone and stared out the window as the train whizzed over the border from the Land of Lincoln to the Great Lake state. She blinked, dark lashes framing misty eyes and straight ahead locked her gaze on a huge billboard.
‘WELCOME to PURE MICHIGAN’
“Michigamaa,” she whispered in her native tongue, the word meaning ‘large water,’ resounding. She shuddered, her fist tightly bound, eyes to the window. “Pure Michigan,” she sobbed.
I may never see this place again.
Arriving at the Silver Beach train station in St. Joe, Anna called Mary Harris a friend of twenty-five years. Mary picked her up and agreed to drop by with her to see her daughter Leigh, before taking her to spend one last night in her home of thirty-two years. Arriving at her daughter’s last known address, Anna discovered that her only living child had fled the state with a truck driver two days prior to this visit. She left a hand-written note for her wayward daughter.
Leigh,
I’m leaving Benton Harbor. Lisa and the kids are gone and that leaves only you, the last of my blood. I had hoped to see you, get on my knees and beg forgiveness for the permanent damage I’ve caused you, but as fate would have it, it was not to be. Hear me. In hindsight, if I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t have warned you of the evils I feared would take you. I only wanted to protect you from them and I truly feared they would find you, find us both. I robbed you of your childhood, living in fear of every shadow and my dearest daughter, you coped the only way you knew how, alcoholism, one man to another, miscarriage after heart breaking miscarriage, which I know you induced, fearful of bringing another female into this world to face the same. I’m sorry, truly. In parting, I may never return and just remember that I love you, but more importantly, I pray you can somehow get past this disease that plagues your life and learn to love yourself.
Goodbye and God bless you daughter,
Mom
After a frightful night, tossing and turning, Anna had coffee, got dressed and set her tote by the front door. She turned and took one last look around her home. The movers would pack her things and store them safe and sound, but they would never remove the memories. She picked up her wedding picture from so long ago. She closed her eyes, her mother’s voice resounding.
“Just be nice to your cousin Ardrey, give yourself to him and he’ll take care of you, my child. You won’t ever be hungry or face Iridescents again.”
“You were right mother,” she mumbled, “I never was hungry again, but there are some things just as painful. I was so scared, and Ardrey was not a gentle man.
You should have warned me, I didn’t know what to expect. I was just a kid, barely thirteen.” She flinched as the cab driver, waiting in her driveway, blasted his horn. She grabbed her purse and tote with a final glance about the room.
“Goodbye.”
Midewiwin
Half awake, yet unwilling to relinquish the peaceful warmth of her bed, Donja snuggled beneath the covers. Torin occupied her mind, and with his eyes dancing and his lips taunting her, she hugged the pillow tighter. Without warning, a barrage of hammers followed by the buzz of a skill-saw directly over her bedroom ceiling, forced her to sit up. She rubbed her eyes, and after a moment she noticed Makayla sitting on the floor with her back to the door, eyes locked on her cell phone. “What are you doing?” Donja asked, “guarding the door?”
Makayla raised her head and from across the room, they shared a look. “I heard the workers, but I wasn’t sure if it was them or the Council.”
“Would you get over it, you’re not in trouble.”
“I’m not so sure of that.”
“It’s the truth. Torin seems happy for you and Gage.” She stretched her arms and it was then that she remembered that Gage had propositioned the Council to make Makayla his consort and she wanted to tell her, it was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t. That needed to be Gage, on one knee, begging for a yes with Makayla screaming. She couldn’t rob her of that.
“Happy.” Makayla whined, dragging her to reality, “you could have fooled me because when you guys left in his Ferrari, things were pretty intense between the two of you. I was a nervous wreck the entire night and you, sister—didn’t say two words when we met up for our midnight dinner. I tried like hell to read your face, but you were totally preoccupied.”
“Sorry, I had a lot on my mind.”
“I guess, and then when I got home, you were sound asleep.”
“Hey, I waited up, you were a no show.”
“Yeah, sorry, we spent a bit longer sitting out in the driveway than I anticipated.”
“Was it worth it?” Donja asked.
“What do you mean worth it?”
“Oh, come on,” Donja smirked. “Did you get all hot and heavy?”
“No, I told you I was scared shitless, so I was trying to pick his brain about this whole situation, but if he knows anything, he’s not talking. To be honest I’m on edge.”
Donja rolled her eyes. “Would you put your fears aside, they aren’t going to kill us.” She had to bite her tongue to keep from telling her it was just the opposite and that Gage planned to marry her. She smiled. “Believe me sister, it’s all good.”
“Do you hate me? Makayla blurted.
“Hate you,” Donja smirked. “Where did that come from?”
Makayla stared with puppy dog eyes. “Well, it’s my fault that you’re in this mess.”
“No, I don’t hate you, the only thing I hate is the threat to my family should they find out that I’m involved with a blood sucker.”
“Getting to you, isn’t it?” Makayla sighed.
“Big time,” Donja whimpered, “so much so that I got up about three a.m. Seems I still have this intense craving for a cigarette now and then.”
“Did you have one?”
“No, I don’t want to be a smoker and I wish now I had never started, but it’s addictive, not something you just forget overnight. Anyway, since I couldn’t smoke, I went downstairs to the computer and did some research on Chippewas.”
“You left me in this spooky ass room alone?”
“Phft! You were sleeping, I wasn’t gonna wake you. Anyway, I snatched a piece of Mom’s chocolate pie and a glass of milk then ended up on the computer until almost four thirty. It’s pretty darn interesting, kinda delving off into a part of yourself that’s been dormant for seventeen years.” She combed back an unruly lock with her fingers. “You know what’s strange?”
Makayla climbed to her feet and joined her on the bed. “Chocolate pie at three in the morning?” she chuckled.
“Besides that.” Donja smiled. “When I was in sixth grade and some of my friends were making fun of an Indian boy who was new to our school, I joined in and since I inherited my mom’s skin tones, no one had a clue about the real me. At the end of that school year when my grandma Anna, who looks very Indian showed up for graduation, I denied that she was my biological grandmother.” She shook her head, guilt bleeding from her eyes. “I can’t believe I was so damn superficial and I gotta tell you, looking back,” she said, eyes on her father’s picture on the nightstand, “I’m ashamed that I turned my back on my heritage.”
“You were a kid.”
“I was a horrible person.”
“Kids are assholes,” Makayla simpered, “and sixth grade’s tough, believe me I know, I barely got through it alive.”
Donja tightened her brows. “Really?”
Makayla wretched her lips unnaturally, exposing her perfect teeth. “I had braces and acne. Two boys bullied me about it every damn day. Sixth grade sucked royally but then in seventh grade things changed and I made friends with some of the popular kids. I joined in with them, mocking and making fun of classmates. So, you see, you don’t have a monopoly on nasty,” she smiled.
“Thanks,” that helps but to be honest, I kinda feel that I denied my blood and now, it’s come back to haunt me. Reap what you sow, that’s what Grandma Anna always said. I’m Chippewa and it’s about time I face it head on and learn of my heritage.”
“You don’t look it.”
“Well it’s a fact. You do know that I’m more than half?”
“Well I knew your father was Chippewa, so yeah I guess I did, but like I said, it doesn’t show on you, not like Frankie, his skin coloring and all.”
“Yeah, Frankie looks like my grandpa, Ardrey, but getting back to my Indian blood. I want to go see that professor you mentioned that teaches at the university.”
“You mean Sam Bapttise?”
“That’s him, I read about him last night online. Let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Well, yeah, as soon as we can get dressed.”
“That’s sudden.”
“You okay with that?” Donja asked, “I can go on my own if you like.”
“No, I’m with you, but first tell me about your date. How was it?”
Donja exhaled. “You know, Torin’s a mystery in himself, sophisticated, educated, rather debonair and about the most handsome man I have ever known, and he excites me…no, that’s the wrong word. He out and out turns me on in ways I never knew existed.”
She paused, staring at nothing.
“The problem,” Donja mused, “is that I don’t know if I love him or if it’s just lust. Furthermore, I don’t know if he really has feelings for me or just wants my blood.” She sighed. “It’s all so confusing, one minute I detest him and all that he stands for, then the next I find myself lost in the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” She shook her head. “I could get lost in him, I can feel it,” she whispered. “I swear there are times the man penetrates me with those eyes, I’m telling you girl, he’s powerful and that scares me, scares the hell out of me.”
“Maybe you’re just having a hard time with trust. That last guy, Kevin, burned you…big time.”
“Yeah, I thought about that, but it’s more than just that.”
“Maybe you’re in shock, ’cause I gotta tell you, the way you look at him, it’s either fight or flight, kill or rape and you don’t hide it very well.”
“I do fluctuate rapidly, rather bi-polar I suppose,” Donja breathed, “but Torin has the effect on me.”
“Well, I for one think it’s love. I went through something similar.”
“With Gage?”
“Yes. Did I tell you that we met after my suicide attempt?”
“No.”
“We did. I actually had to go to the police, can you believe it, and give a statement, it’s Ontario law.”
“But weren’t you in Michigan?”
“Hear me out. I didn’t want my dad to find me all stiff and puckered with bulging eyes and a god-awful stench.” She scrunched her brows. “I’ve heard you defecate when you die.”
“Oh yuck!”
“My sentiments exactly, so I went to the big Soo, rented a hotel and cut my wrists. A maid found me all but dead and thank God she did. Anyway, Gage interrogated me. He came back to check on me almost every day for a month. Then he asked me out.”
“How romantic,” Donja swooned.
“I know, it was, and we had dated for almost three months before I began to pick up on his little hints. Finally, he took me sailing on Lake Superior, just the two of us and he professed his love. I was so happy, but then he revealed himself to me. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe such a thing was even possible. He took me home that night, fully aware that I was reeling with fear, disbelief, you name it, I had it. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I just paced and thankfully my dad was spending every weekend with your mom in St. Joseph. Five weeks later after I was fifteen pounds thinner, it dawned on me that Gage must truly love me. I could have called the police…the government, I could have gotten us both killed with one word, yet he risked it…risked it all, for me. I called him and we met up. I vowed my heart forever and you know what, I don’t regret it, not one damn bit.
“What about your dad? How did you pull that off?”
“It just happened. You see, Gage and I had dated for months and my dad saw the change in me. Finally, I introduced them over dinner and Gage and I were honest about our feelings. Dad was tripping at first but seeing that I was so much better and that I finally had something to live for, he caved, but not before he warned Gage that he would kill him if he hurt me.”
“Wow,” th
at’s amazing.
“Moral of story,” Makayla said with a serious tone. “I almost let fear rob me of my one true love. I think you’re doing the same thing.”
Donja frowned. “I don’t know, maybe you’re right, it could be fear, the after effects of Kevin, or shock or who knows, maybe it’s just spite towards Torin and all his kind for threatening my family.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m so confused.”
“Well, truth be known, Torin’s protecting your family. If you never met him and that scar-faced demon found you, you’d be gone by now and all of us dead so that we didn’t notify the authorities. Maybe he’s your guardian angel.”
“You think?” she asked searching her face.
“For what it’s worth, I’m convinced that the man loves you.”
“Whew! It’s a lot to wrap your head around.”
“That’s for sure, just give yourself time.”
Donja hugged her. “Thanks, you’ve picked me up, I feel better, I got my sister shield on.”
“And I’ve had my dose of Prozac,” Makayla simpered.
Donja laughed. “We’re both beyond crazy, you do know that, don’t you?”
“Well maybe, but there are worse things to be.”
Donja laughed. “All right, enough of this. Tell me, how was your evening with Gage?”
“Good, except that he won’t tell me any secrets about the Council and,” she rolled her eyes, “he won’t give in.”
“Give in, to what?”
“Me. He gets me so hot I want to scream, then backs off. It’s torture.”
“Ahhh, so what did you do?”
“Patience, tolerance and acceptance,” she sighed with animated gestures, “what else could I do?”
“I’m confused,” Donja said. “If Iridescents want Chippewa females, why does Gage love you?”
“Gage is a Lesser Iridescent. Torin’s an Affiliate. Lesser’s can’t produce a child with Chippewa, so just like mortals, they simply meet the girl of their dreams and fall in love.”
“Huh! This is more in-depth than I realized.”
“Well it’s just as scary to fall for a Lesser as it is for an Affiliate, they both need your blood.”