Outsiders

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Outsiders Page 5

by Lynn Ames

Renée looked over at the house. Smoke curled in a plume from a chimney, and a light glowed invitingly through a window. She faced forward again, closed her eyes, and caressed the steering wheel with both hands.

  “Are you planning to sit out here all night? It could get a little chilly.”

  Renée’s eyes flew open and her heart beat double-time.

  “I’m sorry. I startled you.”

  “How do you do that? Sneak up on people without making a sound.” Renée’s nostrils flared and the muscles in her jaw jumped.

  “I would hardly say I ‘snuck’ up on you. After all, you are parked in my driveway.”

  “I know that, but…” Renée shrugged. She had no idea what she was trying to say. But, as always seemed to be the case around Yazhi, she felt completely off-balance.

  “Would you like to come inside?”

  “Sure. I guess.” Renée yanked the keys out of the ignition and opened the car door. She followed Yazhi into the house, her eyes drinking in the sight of her hostess’s shapely backside. Her cheeks grew hot. What if Yazhi caught her staring?

  Great. This is helpful. Grow up.You didn’t come here to ogle or to jump her bones, you came to get information. Renée shook her head to clear it. It was useless to deny that Yazhi flustered her in a way no woman had since her first high school crush, but that was not why she was here.

  The first thing Renée noticed when she crossed the threshold was the comforting scent of lavender. It didn’t take her long to locate the source—a series of lit candles populated highly polished, hand-carved wooden pedestals in the great room to the right of the entryway. More candles rested on a matching coffee table in front of a rich chocolate leather sofa. The walls were painted pale beige and boasted several Navajo wall hangings. A massive fireplace with a native red-rock hearth dominated the far side of the room. The flames licked at cedar logs, simultaneously creating a mesmerizing glow, interesting shadows, and an inviting warmth. The space over the mantle was bare.

  “I’m waiting to find just the right image to hang there,” Yazhi said, breaking the silence.

  Renée started again. She hadn’t realized Yazhi was watching her. In fact, she’d almost forgotten for a moment that she wasn’t alone. The setting was so peaceful, so welcoming, that she’d become completely immersed in the surroundings. She nodded, automatically envisioning how the image Yazhi had fallen in love with in New York would look in a larger size in that spot. It would be perfect. No wonder Yazhi had wanted it.

  “Um, I thought you might be hungry, so I made a stew and some fry bread. I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think you were a vegan.”

  “How did you know I was coming?” Renée rounded on Yazhi, her eyes narrowing. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going, hadn’t made up her mind definitively to make the trip until the night before.

  Yazhi blushed an appealing shade of deeper red.

  “Dinner is ready. There’s a bathroom down the hall to your left if you’d like to freshen up.”

  “Figures.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You didn’t answer me…again. You have a habit of that, you know.”

  “In time, I will answer all your questions.”

  “Do you ever speak in anything other than riddles?”

  “Yes.” Yazhi smiled. It was the kind of beatific expression one might have found in a painting.

  “You are exasperating, you know that?”

  “I know that you think so.”

  Renée grunted and headed in the direction Yazhi had indicated for the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it with her eyes closed. Be patient. Be polite. You remember how to do that, right? Maybe she just doesn’t respond well to pressure. Or maybe she likes to have the upper hand. Don’t let her think you’re desperate for answers. Play it cool. Renée opened her eyes and shoved away from the door. She washed her hands, splashed water on her face, and fixed her resolve.

  When she walked back down the hallway, Yazhi was nowhere in sight.

  “I’m in here,” Yazhi called.

  Renée wanted to ask how Yazhi knew she’d emerged from the bathroom at the other end of the house, but she thought better of it. She was sure Yazhi would only give her another equally frustrating answer. Instead, she followed the sound of Yazhi’s voice and the delicious smell emanating from somewhere beyond the great room.

  ***

  Yazhi busied herself ladling stew into two bowls and arranging the fry bread in a woven basket. She was nervous, and used the moments when Renée was in the bathroom to center herself and try to relax. It wasn’t working.

  By the time she heard the bathroom door open, Yazhi had dinner on the table, wine poured, and dessert cooling on the counter.

  “It smells wonderful in here,” Renée said, “and the table looks beautiful.” She was standing at the threshold where the kitchen met the dining area.

  “Thank you. Please, have a seat. I hope you like red wine?”

  “I do. Thanks. And you’re right—I’m a carnivore through and through.” Renée sat down in the chair facing the kitchen.

  Yazhi’s spine tingled. Renée was watching her. She took another deep breath through her nose and released it through her mouth. “Did you have a good trip?”

  “Fine. I got some great shots at sunset on my way here. The lighting in this area has a quality I haven’t found anywhere else.”

  “I’m glad. As you know, I’m a fan of your work. I’m confident that you’ll do justice to our lands.”

  “I hope so.”

  Something in Renée’s tone made Yazhi stop fussing over the salad she was fixing and look. “You seem different, somehow.” The combativeness, Yazhi realized, was gone. It wasn’t that Renée had mellowed, per se…just that the fight seemed to have gone out of her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Yazhi simply raised an eyebrow and placed the salad bowl on the table. “Please, eat.”

  For a time, the only sound was the scraping of utensils on ceramic as the two women enjoyed the meal.

  “I’ve never had fry bread before.”

  “It’s a staple of our people.”

  “Tasty.”

  “Mmm.” Yazhi sighed as she cleared the table. Great Spirit, please help us to get past this awkwardness. I know I must be patient, but small talk is not natural for either one of us. “Do you like apple pie?”

  “Love it.”

  Yazhi removed the pie from the cooling rack, cut two slices, and brought them to the table.

  “Did you make this?” Renée asked a few minutes later, scooping up the last bit of apple from her plate.

  “Mmm-hmm. My mother’s recipe.”

  “It’s fantastic.”

  “There’s more.”

  “I couldn’t. As it is, I’ll be sleeping on a full stomach. Speaking of which,” Renée said, “I’m going to need a recommendation. I don’t have a reservation, and I’m not really sure where your place is in relation to the hotels in the area—”

  “That’s easy. You stand up and go left about thirty feet, then turn right.” Yazhi said, biting her lip as she watched Renée grasp her meaning.

  “No. That’s—”

  “I insist. My guest room is all ready, it’s too late to find someplace else, and I’ve got a special spot I want to share with you in the morning. At sun up, it is the most magical place on earth, and if you go to a hotel, you’ll miss capturing it on film.”

  Yazhi knew it was fighting dirty to dangle an unparalleled photographic opportunity before Renée. But she couldn’t seem to shake the unsettled feeling that had been with her since shortly after her morning meditation, and the stilted dinner conversation hadn’t helped ease her concern. Her instincts told her she needed to keep Renée close, and Yazhi always followed her instincts. Please,she pleaded silently, I don’t know why yet, but I know it is important that you stay here tonight.

  “If you’re sure—”

  “Good. That’s set
tled,” Yazhi said, as some of the tension drained out of her shoulders. “If you want to get your things, I’ll show you the way.”

  ***

  “Mama? Why is that man standing by the window?”

  “What man, sweetheart?”

  Renée looked from her mother, who was kneading dough on the kitchen counter, to the young man staring out the living room window.

  “There.” Renée pointed. Her mother swiped the back of her hand across her sweaty brow as she glanced in the direction indicated by her daughter.

  “Honestly, Renée, I don’t have time for your nonsense. Your father will be home any second now, and I’ve got to get this bread in the oven. Why don’t you go read one of your books, or sit at the table here and draw.”

  “But Mama, he looks so sad.”

  “Renée Elizabeth, there is no one by that window. I swear, child, you wear me out. These fantastic stories about phantom people and the mysterious conversations you have with them in your head have got to stop. Do you hear me? Right now. Skedaddle!”

  ***

  The hallway was dark and Renée struggled to see. She heard the murmur of voices and knew that her parents were awake. She inched along the wall until she was right outside their room. The door was open a crack and she could just make out her father standing at the foot of the bed, his silhouette illuminated by the glow of the nightlight from the master bathroom.

  “She’s just a young girl with a vivid imagination, Harriet. Nothing to worry about. She’ll grow out of it.”

  “Today it was a man by the window. Wednesday it was a baby crying in Elaine’s room—you know, the room we had converted into a nursery before…”

  Her mother let out a choked cry, and Renée’s heart dropped.

  “There, there, dear. No need to think about that. We never told Renée she had an older brother who died as an infant. He never even came home from the hospital. It’s just a coincidence.”

  “She is Satan’s spawn. I’m telling you.”

  Renée’s knees buckled, although she remained rooted to the spot.

  “You’re overreacting, dear. She’s just a child.”

  “You just go ahead and ask her about it, Donald. Then tell me she’s an innocent.”

  “I’ll talk to her in the morning. Let’s get some sleep.”

  Renée ran back to her room and dove under the covers. She cried until she had no more tears to give.

  “Renée, your mother tells me you’ve got some imaginary friends.”

  Renée stared at her cereal bowl and said nothing.

  “I’m talking to you, young lady. You could at least look at me.”

  Reluctantly, Renée dragged her red, swollen eyes away from the Froot Loops and peeked at her father. “They’re not imaginary,” she mumbled.

  “What? I didn’t hear you.”

  “I said, they’re real.” Renée glanced over toward the living room. The man was standing there again.

  “Honey, I know you think that—”

  “He’s right over there.” Renée jumped up from the table and pointed.

  “Sweetheart, what have I told you about lying? You know that’s wrong.”

  Renée felt the sting of tears. She blurted out, “He says his name is Steven and he used to live here. You bought the house from him. He says he didn’t want to sell the house, but he had to because he got sick. He signed the papers from his hospital bed and died the next day. He’s so sad, Daddy.”

  “Oh my God, Donald. Now do you see what I mean? She’s a freak.”

  Renée started. She hadn’t heard her mother come in. She stumbled backward. “N-no, Mama. I’m not. I’m really not. I promise.” She crumbled to the floor and curled up in a little ball. “I’m normal, I’m normal, I’m normal…”

  Chapter Six

  “Renée. Hey, Renée. Wake up. It’s okay. Hey, wake up. You’re safe here. I promise.” Yazhi bent over the bed and gently shook her guest’s arm.

  Renée was curled up in the fetal position, whimpering. Yazhi fought for a moment against the waves of distress emanating from Renée. What she had seen in the vision through their connection was inconceivable. That parents could treat a child in such a manner—that her gift could be seen as a curse—Yazhi simply couldn’t have imagined it if she hadn’t seen it through Renée’s eyes. You have so much pain. I’m so sorry for what happened to you.

  Yazhi took a deep breath and centered herself, then gave in to the overwhelming desire to comfort and console. Cautiously, she climbed onto the queen-sized bed and slid up until she was sitting against the headboard.

  “Renée, honey. You’re all right. Come here.” Yazhi reached over and enveloped Renée in her arms, maneuvering until she cradled her completely. Still, Renée didn’t wake. Yazhi stroked her hair and whispered words of comfort that were as much for the little girl as for the grown woman. “Shh, no one will doubt you or hurt you here. It’s okay.”

  “No. Please, I’ll never do it again.”

  The words were mumbled, almost swallowed up by Yazhi’s T-shirt, against which Renée’s head was pillowed. The naked vulnerability was almost too much for Yazhi to bear. She leaned down and kissed Renée’s tousled locks, rocking their bodies in a slow rhythm. Almost immediately, Renée settled down. Unconsciously, she snuggled into Yazhi’s embrace.

  Yazhi closed her eyes as her body responded to the feel of Renée against her. Great Spirit, give me the strength to put aside my desires and the wisdom to know how to help her. With great effort, Yazhi regulated her breathing and waited for her heartbeat to follow suit.

  Eventually, she began to relax completely, and then to nod off. When Yazhi awoke, she and Renée were breathing in unison, their limbs entangled, Renée’s forehead resting against the side of Yazhi’s neck. Her heart thudded once, hard.

  It was close to dawn. If she tried to extricate herself now, Renée surely would awaken. If she didn’t slip away…If you don’t get out of here, how will you explain your presence? How will she react? Yazhi frowned. As volatile as Renée already had proven herself to be, Yazhi didn’t want to think about how the morning would unfold in that instance.

  Renée began to stir, and Yazhi had no more time to contemplate her options. Instead, she relied on her instincts. With as much care and stealth as she could muster, Yazhi disentangled herself.

  No sooner had she stood up, than Renée’s eyes fluttered open. “Um, I just came in to wake you.”

  “It must be the middle of the night.”

  “No, actually, it’s almost dawn. If you want to see one of the most beautiful sights in the world, you’ll have to get up now.”

  Yazhi watched Renée’s eyes come alive with light. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  ***

  Renée brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her hair. The remnants of the previous night’s dream hung over her like a shroud. But there was something else, something she couldn’t quite remember, playing at the edges of her mind. She wrinkled her forehead in thought. Whatever it was, she felt more at peace than at any other time in her life. Which seemed…odd…given the circumstances.

  Renée glanced at her watch. No time to ruminate now, dummy. She yanked the T-shirt over her head, and as she did so, caught a whiff of a light scent that wasn’t her own. “Huh.” She held it to her nose and sniffed. Not perfume, exactly. Shampoo? No. Lavender. Like the candles. She narrowed her eyes. “I know damn well I didn’t get close enough to any of those candles—”

  “Are you ready?” Yazhi called through the closed door.

  “Will be in a minute.” Renée hurriedly changed into a turtleneck and jeans and threw her camera gear together. When she emerged from the bedroom, she could smell freshly brewed coffee. Unable to resist, she followed her nose to the kitchen.

  “I thought you could use some of this.”

  “Thank you,” Renée said. She slung the camera bag over her shoulder and gratefully accepted the proffered thermos.

  “You might want a jacket.
It’s pretty cool out there this time of day.”

  “It’s in the car.”

  “Okay, then, let’s go. We’ll take my Jeep.”

  Renée followed Yazhi out the door, stopped and grabbed her leather bomber jacket out of the backseat of the rental vehicle, and slid into the passenger seat of Yazhi’s Jeep. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” Yazhi put the Jeep in gear and headed east.

  Renée noted that Yazhi had yet to look her in the eye. “Everything all right this morning?”

  “Yes. As you can see, the weather is cooperating. The sunrise will be magnificent.”

  Renée looked at Yazhi appraisingly. It wasn’t that she was nervous, exactly, and yet…

  A few minutes later, Yazhi said, “Here we go.”

  As far as Renée could tell, they were in the middle of nowhere. “Where are we?”

  “Private Navajo lands. Outsiders are forbidden unless accompanied by one of us. Come.”

  Yazhi scrambled out of the Jeep and started up a rise. It was all Renée could do to keep up with her. The air was crisp and clear, and she could see her breath. In moments they crested the incline.

  “Holy…” It was all Renée could manage as she looked out over an expanse as beautiful as anything she’d ever seen. Clouds streaked the horizon, and the sun was about to make its debut for the day. Without taking her eyes off the view, she dropped the camera bag, unzipped it, and removed the camera body and a lens.

  She snapped off several establishing shots, repositioned herself, and got to work in earnest. “This is unbelievable.” The noise of the shutter clicking and her own exclamations were the only sounds to break the stillness of the dawn.

  Finally, Renée stopped to regroup. She withdrew her eye from the viewfinder and noticed Yazhi sitting perfectly still a short distance away. It was the first time Renée remembered that she wasn’t alone. She was about to make a comment, when she realized that Yazhi’s eyes were closed. She looks so serene, so beautiful. Renée raised the camera, framed Yazhi in the perfect shot, backlit by the rising sun, then paused. The moment seemed somehow too private, too personal, to record. Renée felt as though she was intruding. Instead, she lowered the camera and watched.

 

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