I got it. It was a problem and one the main reasons why the Project fought to keep native kids in native schools. Racial dissonance, the loss of connection with their tribe and their community, caused deep rifts in identity for native kids. Judah was right to be afraid, he was right to be angry.
“Judah, I get it. You know much I get how you’re feeling and what this means to you but you fucked up tonight man. You really fucked this up.”
“I know.” He dropped his head again, refusing to meet my eyes.
I walked over to him and sat on the edge of his coffee table, forcing him to look at me. “Judah, do you have any idea how fucked you are?”
He nodded. “I know. I just lost my temper.”
“And got into a bar fight and taken into custody by the police. A report that is going to get back to the judge and the guardian ad litem.” I stood up, rubbing my sweaty hands on my jeans and pacing his floor. “I think I have a solution.”
“You do?” Judah’s head snapped up and his voice was full of hope.
“Your attorney got a call from the state. They offered a settlement, a compromise that would end this and get Gideon’s future settled.”
He narrowed his eyes, his distrust a palpable barrier he erected between us. “And what did they offer?”
“That Gideon would stay with the Morgans during the school year and would stay with you during the summer and school breaks.”
He cocked his head at me, confused. “And how long would this last?”
“It would be permanent.” I made sure he understood the implications. “It would be unlikely that the court would change it in the future if you agreed to this.”
“Why would I agree to that?” He asked, suspicion and hostility coating every single word. I wasn’t sure if that emotion was aimed at me or the system or just the universe.
“Because you’d have guaranteed access to Gideon. No more having to fight the system. Gideon is okay with the Morgans, he’s happy.”
“Except for the fact that he’s ashamed to be a Cree. He’s ashamed to be who he is.”
“No. He just doesn’t want to be bullied.”
“Fuck you, Adam,” Judah stood and I knew that the hostility was now aimed at me. “If you believe that, get out of my house.”
“Wait, what? Hold on a minute, Judah,” I said, holding up my hands in a “hear me out” gesture. “You fucked up tonight, not me. I’m just trying to get you what you want. Your son.”
“And the fact that you think that’s what you’re doing shows me that you don’t fucking know me at all. With our history …” He gestured out towards to workshop. “…after what happened the other night, I thought you knew me better. If you did, then you wouldn’t be telling me to give up on my son.”
“I’m not telling you to give up on Gideon.”
“You’re telling me to stop fighting.” He shook his head. “I promised him that I would never stop fighting for him.”
“Well, you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Judah.” My voice sounded bitter to my own ears and too harsh for the warmth of this home, this space Judah had created for his family.
“I can’t believe you don’t know me better than this, Adam.” He pointed at the door. “You act like you help people but you still treat us like a number, a case. I thought you saw me.”
His stubbornness was infuriating and his criticism made me ugly. I was tired and scared and I lashed out. “Why? Because we both came? One orgasm doesn’t make me the Judah-whisperer.”
“Fuck you and get out of my house.”
“Judah.”
He sighed and walked over to the door, opening it and holding it open. “Get the hell out of my house.”
I did as he asked.
10
Judah
The stars were bright in the sky over our heads.
Gideon was snuggled up against me, his head resting on my torso so that our bodies were cross-wise to each other. We were lying on a pile of blankets on the bed of my truck, with Fat Dave curled up at our side as we searched the sky and played constellation bingo. The space around us was scattered with the leftovers from our picnic dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, apple slices, oreo cookies, and root beer. It had been a feast for two kings.
“I see the Big Dipper!” Gideon pointed to a large patch of midnight blue sky, his body squirming with the excitement of marking another square off his card. I reached down and hugged him close, his hair standing up in short spikes and brushing against my face like the softest of brushes. I ignored the pang of regret and closed my eyes, inhaling his little boy scent of summer grass, apple juice, and hope.
He settled back against me and we both scoured the sky for something else to mark off the playing card. I had some things I needed to say but I didn’t want to ruin this moment with things that he should never have had to deal with in a perfect world. Or one where he had a better father.
“You know, I used to bring your mom here when we first started dating.”
“You did?” I could feel him turn his face up to mine, his breath a hot tickle on my face. “Did she like to find the constellations?”
I nodded, remembering those days with April. The early days when we both thought that we’d be good for each other.
“She did.” I threw my arm around him and hugged him closer to me, ignoring the squirm and protest he lodged against my grip. “Your mom was funny. She told the worst puns and cracked herself up with them. You didn’t laugh at the jokes but you did laugh at her.”
“You loved mom, right Dad?”
His question caught me off guard. He’d asked so many things about his mom and about me but never about our time together. April and I had always been kind to each other, our adoration of Gideon making it easy. Even after I’d been incarcerated, she’d made sure that I saw him and that he never forgot who his dad was. So, answering the question was easy.
“Yeah. I loved your mom.”
“Just not the forever kind of love.”
“No Gid, it was the forever kind of love.” When he twisted this time I let him, looking down at his face so honestly confused. I just wanted to freeze this moment and not have to face the custody hearing. I never wanted to leave this moment with the walking piece of my soul who loved baseball and a one-eyed cat. “There are different kinds of love. I love the Aunties. I love Gareth and Oliver. And I loved your mom. I still love her. She was my friend and she gave me my greatest gift.”
“Me?”
I smiled and tapped him on the nose. “Yep.”
“Do you love Adam?” Gideon asked, his eyes turning back to the sky. “Gareth said you did once.”
I made a mental note to punch Gareth in the face.
“I did. It was a long time ago.” I sighed. “We were very young and it wasn’t a good time for us to be together.”
“I think you still do. Love him.” Gideon looked back at me again, tapping my nose in playful retaliation. “I don’t think love goes away like that. Not because you don’t see someone for a long time. Mom is gone and I love her with a forever love. You were gone to prison and I still loved you. I didn’t hug you or get to go fishing with you or play baseball with you but I still loved you.”
“I’m so sorry, Gid.”
“I know, Dad.” He pressed his hand to my face, it was sticky from the apple juice but I leaned into the touch, soaking him in. “When I didn’t get to see you for a long time, I just put the love away. I didn’t bring it out all of the time but it was there. In my cubby, just like at school. When I needed it, I took it out.”
“So, I just stashed my love for Adam away in a cubby?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Yeah, maybe. I’d stuck something in the cubby and I’d taken it out for a while and now I wasn’t sure if I could get it stuffed back in there. But that was something I’d save to think about later.
The memory of just how shitty that morning with Adam had turned out still made my jaw clench and my st
omach curdle with something I think people would call despair. The counselors in prison had talked to us lot about it over the years: the loss of hope, the loss of a dream and the downward spiral into a very dark place. I’d never felt that when I was on the inside because I’d always had a dream; I’d had Gideon. But, I think the choking weight sitting on my chest right now was that condition. It was made worse by the knowledge of how it had felt to be with Adam, wrapped up in each other, our bodies warm and reaching for each other.
To not have that now, to know I would never have it was . . . killing me.
I let what Gideon had said sit between us, searching the sky for my favorite constellation. I saw it every time I looked up, my eye was drawn to it automatically. The few times I’d been able to see the night sky when I was in prison, I’d found it and I made it mine. It was a lifeline until I could get out and hold my living, breathing northern star again.
“Orion’s Belt!” I said, pointing at the bright star. “Where’s my card?”
We dug around for the card and the marker in the tangle of blankets. I took advantage of the moment to get in some tickles and in between his squeals of laughter, Gideon threatened me with retaliation tickles and pounces by Fat Dave in the future when I would be asleep. I gave up on the card, settling back in the blankets with my favorite kid.
“Hey Gid, the day after tomorrow is when I find out if the judge will let you come live with me.”
His body went perfectly still, something that never happened so I knew this was hard for him. He was holding his breath so I tried to pull up something that would have him breathing again.
“Buddy, I’m not gonna lie. I don’t know how this is going to go. I don’t know if you’re going to be living with me or not. I messed up. I didn’t mean to but I messed up.” I sat up, moving around until I was nose-to-nose with him, until I could see the worry in his eyes. It broke my heart, shattered it all over again because I knew that what he was feeling was because of my dumb mistakes. But, I couldn’t wallow in them because I had to be a dad, his dad. “But I promise you that I won’t give up. If I lose this one, I’ll keep on trying until I win. I’ll keep fighting until we’re a family again. You and me.”
Gideon lunged forward, pressing his face into my neck and I felt the tears on my skin before I felt them shudder through his body. I gathered him closer, as close I could get him and I let my own tears fall. He deserved them, he was entitled to know that this wrecked me too and that if there was anything in this world worth crying over, it was this family. It was us.
“Promise me, Dad.” His voice was low and shuddery against my skin.
I shook my head. “Gideon, I don’t know what the judge is going to do.”
He pulled back and he was shaking his head, holding my face in his hands. His eyes were wet with his tears but the fire inside them reminded me of April and her spirit. I silently thanked her for making him strong, for giving him that fire.
“Promise me that you’ll fight, Dad. Always.”
Oh, that I could swear to. On a stack of Bibles and the memories of my ancestors, I could make this promise and I knew I would keep it.
“Oh Gideon, I promise that I will never stop fighting for you.”
11
Adam
“Hey Little Brother, you got a minute?”
I placed a finger on the legal opinion I was reading and blinked, clearing the haze of last-minute pre-hearing research and sleep deprivation from my eyes. Neal was standing in the doorway with his “don’t-you-ever-do-anything-but-work” judgy expression all over his face.
“It depends. Do you have coffee?”
Neal rolled his eyes and stepped fully into the doorway, revealing a drink carrier with two large, steaming cups of coffee in it. The smell hit my nostrils and I started salivating, my stomach also setting off a rumble that reminded me to order a pizza. I checked the clock and recalibrated: make that breakfast.
“I take back almost all of the things I said about you. You are a great brother.” I made the grabby hands gesture at him and snagged the one closest to me. I popped the little notch on the top and took a brave sip, knowing that the chances of burning my mouth were pretty damn close to a sure thing. “Fuck!”
“It’s hot, doofus,” Neal drawled, making a big show of blowing on his cup before taking a tentative sip. “And what did you say about me that you don’t take back?”
“Huh?” I waved him off. “Oh, just about how you cheat at Stratego.”
Neal paused in lifting his cup to his mouth, flipping me the bird. “Fuck you. I won fair and square” He smirked at me and reached into his messenger bag, retrieving two breakfast sandwiches and waving them under my nose. “And now you can starve.”
“Neal,” I whined, throwing my hand out towards him. “Think of the children.”
His look was long and even and then he smiled. It was a big, toothy grin. “Actually, I’m only thinking of one child.” He tossed me one of the sandwiches. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength to be an uncle.”
I was halfway through unwrapping the sustenance of the gods when his words penetrated my exhausted fog. I paused. I looked at my brother. He grinned even wider.
“Holy shit, man! That’s amazing!” I jumped to my feet and rounded my desk, launching myself at my brother, wrapping him in a hug that I hoped told him that I was happy for him, that I loved him, and that he was going to be a great dad. Oh hell, words were not going to be enough. “Neal! You are going to be the best dad.”
He laughed, wiping a hand over lashes wet with tears. “God, I hope so. I don’t want to fuck this kid up like dad fucked us up.”
That stopped me, my stomach sinking to my feet like a stone. I shook my head, patting him on his cheek. “No way, man.” I thought back to all of the times Neal had been there for me, my guide, my teacher, my hero. There was no way he was going to fuck this up. “You’re going to rock this. You practically raised me.”
“Oh my God, don’t tell Callie that. I’ve never understood how I got her to marry me.”
“I paid her lots of money.”
“You don’t have that kind of money.”
“Your wife is very cheap and she’s okay with settling. That much is obvious,” I joked, punching him in the arm before heading back to my seat. “How is she feeling?”
“She’s good. Tired but no morning sickness.” Neal settled in his chair, opening up his own sandwich and taking a bite. He nodded at the books and papers all over my desk. “What are you working on?”
“Judah’s hearing is tomorrow.” I rubbed one hand over my eyes, using the other to cram my sandwich in my face. “It’s … I don’t know how it’s going to turn out. He had a thing the other day. The police on Rocky Boys got involved but it wasn’t really anything but it doesn’t look good. Any excuse for the judge to use against him.”
“Okay, I get that. Did you prepare Judah? Plan a strategy?”
I groaned, tossing what was left of my sandwich on the table and hoping to keep what I’d eaten down. The entire scene in the kitchen twisted my gut every time I thought of it.
“I tried. I told him that I had talked to the state about a compromise, a negotiated settlement where he would still get visitation with Gideon and he went off and told me to get out of his house.”
“Oh, Adam,” Neal said, his voice tinged with censure. That pissed me off.
“Oh no. I told him to stay out of trouble and he didn’t. It’s not my fault that he couldn’t do it.” I stood, pacing my office as I worked through the conversation again in my head. “I did my job. I gave him the truth, it isn’t my fault that he didn’t want to hear it. This was a good deal and he should take it. I told him.”
“So, you told him to stop fighting? To just give up and take himself out before he went to the mat for his kid?”
I blew out a huff of angry breath. “He’d be able to see Gideon as much as he does now.”
“All of this because of whatever happened on Rocky Boys? Did someone
get hurt? Did he get arrested?”
I shook my head, waving off his questions as beside the point. “No. The cops just let him cool off at the station.”
“And you told him to settle?” Neal glared at me again. “Look, I only know Judah through Gareth but he’s a fighter. I have some idea of how hard he’s worked to get his shit straight and get back to his son.”
“And my suggestion guaranteed that he would get that result,” I reiterated in a voice that was dripping with irritation. This was my job and nobody was letting me do it.
“No. Your suggestion told him that he needed to compromise – again.” I was confused and now it was Neal’s turn to be irritated. “Adam, you spend almost all of your time fighting the fact that indigenous people have to compromise over and over and over again to get treated like equal human beings. How many times have you told me that they are set to a higher standard than white people for the basic right to be a parent in custody cases just like this? Judah came to you to because you’ve dedicated your life to leveling the playing field. How did you expect him to act when you treated him just like the people you’re supposedly fighting?”
Neal’s spot-on observation hit me in the chest like a battering ram and I staggered on my feet, finding my chair to slump down in it. He was right. I had been an asshole and if I’d been Judah I would have thrown myself out too.
My brother rose to his feet, his expression etched with more compassion than censure and I had the feeling that it was more than I deserved. He walked the few steps to the door and turned to me. “Judah is just a man who wants the chance to be a father to his son. If that privilege requires him to be perfect then I don’t know how the hell any of us will ever be worthy. Including me.”
12
Judah
“Gideon, just remember that no matter what happens today—”
Rogue Nights (The Rogue Series Book 6) Page 31