by S. M. Butler
He would have liked to fuck her all morning long, fuck her until he got that fated phone call, and then fuck her again, but as he held her hips tight against him, spilling his seed deep, he mourned that this would perhaps be the last time. Time stood still as he finished into her quivering sex, as she gasped and moaned in harmony with her internal muscles holding and milking him dry. He leaned forward, ran his teeth along the slender angle of her long neck, eliciting a sultry hiss from her pleasure. He kissed her into submission as he pressed the full force of his weight into and on top of her, collapsing them onto the bed.
His breathing was long and in tandem with hers. Her fingers clutched and wrapped around his hand as it rested on the pillow beside her head. She brought his hand to her chest, laid her right breast into his palm and pressed.
In the soft perfumed hairs at the back of her head, he lay his head down, and fell asleep with his cock buried deep inside her still.
Chapter Six
‡
Chester Begay’s funeral was held the day after his death. The Protestant church of Danny’s childhood looked smaller than he’d remembered. The same organist had played for over thirty years, but they were in-between ministers so one of the ordained cousins from New Mexico officiated. It was Chester’s wish that the service be held there, even though he rarely graced its doorway.
He wanted those gathered to be comfortable, and the pews in the little church were much more comfortable than the folding chairs out at the gravesite. Besides, that was where the private family celebration would be held, where the singers would come. At the last minute, a contingent from Washington arrived in two black Suburbans, accompanied by several Secret Services members. The entourage included Arizona’s colorful Senator Lopez, bearing condolences from the President of the United States himself.
A color guard paid their respects, and a flag was given to Danny’s mother and his aunt. Red, white, and blue flowers adorned the casket. In keeping with their family tradition, Chester’s face would not be viewed. Instead, his medals were displayed along the casket top. Danny hadn’t realized just how many he’d had. His mother had whispered to him that these were to be given to Wilson, since he was carrying on the tradition of serving in the military. Danny tried to tell himself he wasn’t envious as he now looked at the ribbons and chunks of metal arranged like the necklace of some ancient war chief, nearly covering half the casket top.
The family gathered afterward at Wilson’s mother’s house, which was on the res nearby. It was hard not to feel the eyes of his relatives on him, just as it was hard not to notice the pats on the back Wilson received. Lopez had been well coached and sought Wilson out to thank him for his service. Danny wanted to leave and told his mother so barely two hours into the get-together. He’d greeted politely all the relatives he recognized, and those who didn’t come up to him he figured didn’t want to be reacquainted. Not like Wilson.
As a youth, just hanging with Wilson would have normally been enough to make the afternoon interesting, but today with the frostiness between the two cousins, it was forcing him into a dangerous place even the sweet recollection of the night with Luci couldn’t heal. Making matters worse, Wilson had made an off-color remark about Danny’s activities last night that irritated Danny further.
The two ignored one another until somehow they wound up waiting to use the only restroom in the house.
“Your mom says you’re ready to go home,” Wilson said to his cowboy boots.
“That’s right.”
“I honestly don’t know why you came in the first place, Danny.”
Danny’s right eye squinted a little. “We never liked these things, Wilson. You know that.”
“You’ve been gone, what, eight years or more?”
“Twelve.”
“Okay, then. Twelve. And you can’t spend an afternoon giving these people the time of day?”
“I don’t belong here, Wilson.”
Wilson nodded his head. “Oh yeah. Forgot. You’re the one that got away. You trying to rub my nose in it, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t want to be here. I’ve done my farewells, and now it’s time for me to adios.”
“You might consider the feelings of your mother.”
Danny drilled him with a return look that probably picked a scab, inflaming Wilson further. “You hear the voices? Does the chanting get to you, Wilson?”
He could see his cousin was thinking about this carefully. It surprised him that Wilson didn’t give a quick answer no, which meant only one thing.
“Holy fucking shit, Wilson. You hear them, too. Just like I do.”
Emma Barnowl, one of his grandfather’s friends, opened the bathroom door and their nostrils were hit with room deodorizer, which did a poor job of masking the smell she’d left behind.
“Fuck me,” Wilson said under his breath. “I’m going out back.”
Danny followed his cousin, and within thirty seconds, was standing next to him, pissing on his aunt’s tomato plants just like they used to do when they were boys of five. To this day Danny hated tomatoes, especially home grown ones.
After they were done, they sat in metal lawn chairs. Wilson offered Danny a cigarette.
“I don’t smoke, and neither do you, or you didn’t,” Danny corrected himself.
“That’s funny,” Wilson said as he casually lit up and put his lighter and cigarettes back in his rear pocket.
“How come you didn’t wear your uniform?”
“It’s my choice. I didn’t think he’d like it.” Wilson took a long drag on his cigarette and blew it right at Danny’s face, but the wind carried it away.
“Thought you were proud of being a Navy boat guy.”
“I am. Got nothing to do with it. Kind of felt like it would be bragging or something, you know?”
Danny wondered about Luci, halfway expecting she’d drop by the gathering. Was he disappointed she’d stayed away? He couldn’t get the memory of her warm body against his out of his mind. It might be a reason to stay an extra day or two, but that would be a dangerous road, full of emotional potholes and entanglements. None of his liaisons ever lasted, so he figured it was better to remember her the way he’d left her. He remembered seeing her proud straight shoulders and those tight jeans encase thighs and a world-class ass as she walked toward her car and didn’t look back once. He knew the only good ones were the ones who didn’t look back.
Wilson’s voice snapped him back to reality.
“Look, Danny, I’m going to say this once, and then let you go. I’m sorry we got off to a bad start after so many years.”
“I was surprised you were around. Didn’t expect it.”
“So I was right, you’re not happy to see even me.”
“Again, putting words in my mouth.”
Wilson looked down, eyes landing on the scuffed cowboy boots, which were a mismatch to the clean suit pants and white shirt he wore. “I left this place with a lot of demons. I think I got just as many, maybe more than you, Cuz.” Wilson took a final drag, stomped it out on the patio, and then threw the pieces into his mother’s vegetable garden.
A slight breeze shivered its way down Danny’s spine. A little group laughed from inside the house. He heard the tinkling of glasses and silverware, the sounds of cars arriving on the crushed rock roadway in front of his Aunt’s house, a doorbell ring, and the buzzing of a small plane overhead. The place looked and smelled and felt dangerously normal.
“I learned to tame those demons in the Navy, Danny. I’m not going to lie to you, but serving in the armed forces is giving me skills I can take out there in the real world.”
Danny found himself chuckling in spite of the fact that it was going to piss Wilson off. “Yeah, don’t see many rubber boats around the res, Cuz. You training to be a white water rafting guide in the Canyon? Shit, you coulda done that in high school.”
“Except I was gett
ing stoned in high school, Danny. So were you. I heard you were a real mess.”
“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. I look like a mess to you?”
Wilson abruptly stood. “No, Danny, you look like a fuckin’ hero just like your grandfather.”
His cousin left and joined the gathering inside the house.
Jonas, the sixteen-year-old cousin of the Yellowhorse clan, drove Danny to the dusty bus stop to Phoenix just outside the res. Danny made the rest of the trip to the Phoenix bus terminal alone. He had an hour before the shuttle to the airport, so decided to walk downtown just to get a flavor of how it had changed.
A large two-story Indian Tribal Council building took up nearly a whole city block, which impressed him. Apparently Indian business was good business, judging from the quality and the architecture of the beautiful building. A philanthropic foundation had built a Native American Museum, which was advertised everywhere, and he wished he’d had more time, but decided he’d make a point to visit next chance he got. He walked past a joint forces recruitment office, a tattoo parlor, and another coffee shop before he stopped.
He backed up and walked through the recruitment doors into the stuffy office filled with cigarette smoke.
The Army recruiter greeted him first.
“Son, what can I do you for?”
“Not sure.” Danny suddenly found himself wondering what made him walk inside the little snake pit, where he was eyed like a piece of bait. He knew his large frame would impress recruiters, but he hadn’t expected all five of the guys in uniform there to stand to attention and form a circle around him. He sensed a bit of rivalry over him. It made him feel uncomfortable.
“Look, fellas, I’m just here exploring things a bit. At ease, as I guess they say. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here, to be honest.” He was going to apologize for the swearing, but decided against it.
“Son, you just passed the first test required to become a proud Army-strong recruit. Come on over to my desk and let me tell you about the destiny that awaits you.”
Fuck that. He turned and faced the Air Force recruiter, dressed in a starched bright white short-sleeved shirt, stitched and patched with insignias he didn’t understand. His dark pants fit loosely, with a well-pressed line down the front from his waistband to the cuffs overflowing his boots. The sandy-haired man had freckles.
“Nice to meet you,” the man said as he extended his hand. “I’m Staff Sargent Brian Gibson. Welcome.”
“Thanks,” said Danny. “I like your jets.”
“Oh yeah, we got jets!” Gibson wiggled his eyebrows. “You fly?”
“Not yet, but always wanted to.”
“Not a problem. We can teach that, if you have the desire.”
A lanky young man in a khaki-colored shirt waited until Danny eyed him and completed his handshake with the Air Force recruiter.
“We got jets too,” the Navy recruiter said.
“My buddy works your boat crew,” Danny said.
“The SWCC boats? That’s a helluva job.”
“Dangerous.”
“Not for everyone,” Gibson corrected.
Danny felt himself tense up. His eyes narrowed as he stared back to the man who had just issued him a challenge. “Let’s talk.”
They sat behind a grey metal scuffed and dented desk with a rubberized top like one Danny had seen at the nurse’s office at school. It appeared to be from the 1950’s. A bone colored, four-drawer file cabinet with a cactus plant perched precariously on top of it was all the adornment in the room. The rest of the walls were bare.
“Just moved in here,” the recruiter said. “I’m Petty Officer Oscar Green.”
His handshake was limp, something Danny detested. On the corner of Green’s desk were two plastic brochure holders containing pictures of troops in rubber boats braving a raging jungle river, sending a thirty-foot spray from their rear. The other brochure was entitled, “‘Only Easy Day Was Yesterday’,” and it had a picture of a man jumping out of the back of a transport plane, above the picture of a sniper covered in camo. He fingered the boat crew brochure as he spoke to Green.
“This is what my cousin does.”
“Yeah. The SWCC boats. Where’s he stationed?”
“San Diego.”
“Ah, Coronado,” Green corrected.
Danny didn’t like the subtle put-down.
“You like jets? We have an elite Navy pilot program. You’re gonna have to score pretty high on the ASVAB to get in. And you do have a college degree?”
Danny liked Green even less as the seconds ticked by.
“Wilson got in to this, and he just graduated high school.”
“Wilson? Wilson Begay? The Navajo boy?”
He reeled at the affront. “Yes, he’s Dine, and so am I.”
“Your people helped us win World War II. We owe a lot to you Native Americans. You know the story of the Code Talkers and such?”
He wanted to tell the man about his grandfather, but didn’t like that it would seem like he was kissing up to the man. He would never kiss up to this man, no matter how much he wanted his information. “Look, I got only a little time. Catching a bus to the airport to fly back to Northern California. Can we cut the crap?”
“Sure. What’s on your mind?”
“I like what he does, but is this considered better? These SEALs?”
“Son, I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Ask Wilson about what it took. He barely passed.”
“But he passed.”
“He did.”
“So, of these two, which one—” Danny decided to change his tactic. “Which one do you think I would have the most difficulty getting into?”
Without hesitation, Green tapped the top of the SEALs brochure. “This one. No doubt about it.”
“Then that’s the one I want.” Danny picked up the brochure and walked out without saying goodbye to any of the men who stood at ease, watching his hulking frame leave their sorry asses behind. He didn’t want anyone who knew anything about his family to be the one to sign him up. But he knew exactly what he was going to do when he got back to California.
Chapter Seven
‡
Luci Tohe’s knees were still wobbly. After the incredible night with Danny, she’d gone to the school, though it was a Saturday. Hoping to catch up on some of the work she’d walked away from on Friday. The phone call about her uncle, necessitated a trip to the Blue Fox.
The futility of their situation sometimes got to her. Between her mother’s small disability check, the tribal money, and Luci’s schoolteacher pay, they were barely able to make ends meet. She saved all her spare money for Sarah’s education, and had managed to store away enough for her first year, if they could find some kind of housing scholarship. Arizona had lots of scholarships available, but she’d have to stay in state. Sarah had her heart set on going to an art college in San Francisco.
Only three little years to go until Sarah was done with high school. Luci’d already held her position at the school for three.
Halfway to having a life of my own.
Teaching wasn’t a bad job. And she had to be honest, though she’d told Danny otherwise, she did feel a calling to help some of her younger Navajo brothers and sisters learn so they had the possibility of getting off the res; or staying on it and finding a way to prosper without resorting to selling drugs or doing something else illegal to make fast money.
That was the problem with the kids, she thought. They wanted a sexier life in the city, but didn’t have the money to spend like they wanted to, or travel like they wanted to. Her forefathers had been stuck on the reservation because they weren’t given permission to leave, even during the World War II time when some of their nation were called and served in the Marines as Code Talkers. For many of those boys, it was their first time outside of the land of the Four Corners.
Now, Dine youth were stuck on the reservation because of economics. Tending herds of goats or sheep, and sitting
by the fire telling stories like the older generation did, somehow wasn’t interesting enough. And the old way was not to talk in a braggadocios manner, so some of the great stories of heroism and sacrifice fell on ears of those texting or watching TV. They were looking away from the old ways.
Luci was a girl of ten when her uncle approached her about having sex with him. She’d resisted him every time he caught her alone. Telling her mother didn’t do any good, either, until one time one of her new papas heard about Corwin propositioning Luci and beat him to a pulp. Many in the community hailed Ray as a hero and wished he’d killed the man, but instead it sent Ray off to the slammer for a year, Luci was beaten by her mother every night for a week, and she still had to dodge her uncle’s advances. That only lasted a few weeks. A Tribal policeman and his FBI counterpart witnessed one of those attempts, and that’s what sent her uncle away.
So, the news that Corwin was coming home was not welcome. He’d fallen in with a gang in prison. One of her male cousins, who braved visiting him, told Luci he had new inkings on his face, of all places. To mark a man’s face was to leave a permanent mark on a person’s soul.
Luci knew when he got out, his total focus would be on her and her little sister. This time she didn’t fear for her female dignity. She feared for her life.
Luci scanned her classroom. It was reflective of the colors of their land. She used the shades of the rich rose-colored mountains, the milk chocolate colored earth, and the faded greens of the cactus and brush that grew there.
Her English Honors class could hang with the best of them, she was proud to say. If she could just keep them interested long enough, they’d make it out of high school, into college somewhere, and hopefully, to some kind of future. What she didn’t want was for them to forget their roots, their heritage. They were natural born writers and poets, as well as working with things of the earth like reeds, silver, and stones. These days wool was plenty, though the weavers and other artists were decreasing in numbers.