The Naughty Box (9 books in 1 box set)

by Davis, SJ

  “Doritos are always a good choice.” I said as I walked to him. I noticed the women are staring at him – which quickly answered my question whether others can see him.

  He looked at me with little emotion, an imperceptible snarl curled on his lips. “Isn’t your boyfriend waiting for you somewhere?” He lowered his gaze and strode towards an empty table. I grabbed my bag and followed him, the strap caught on a chair and I stumbled.

  The commotion of the noisy metal chairs and me banging into the tables caused him to turn quickly. “Are you always this clumsy?” He sounded annoyed.

  His annoyance makes me nervous. “What are you doing here?”

  “Maybe your boyfriend can figure it out.”

  “Are you spying on me?”

  “No more than I need to, believe me. Your boyfriend is putting out a lot of energy right now. Looking for answers to questions that don’t concern him.”

  “Okay. I get it. You’re pissed I told Layne about you. He’s a good friend. He wants to help me. Am I supposed to lie and hide everything?”

  “He isn’t a Native, Sparrow. He has no role to play here. No part. Bringing him into the reservation’s business isn’t going to help.”

  “I don’t even know the reservation’s business! I am not even a part of it anymore,” I said exasperated.

  He stared at me; his face and body were defensive. He narrowed his eyes. Suddenly, I am completely distracted by the beauty of his bones.

  “Why do I even bother,” I sighed. “Just go away. I was perfectly fine before you.”

  “No, you weren’t. Not even a little bit.”

  Tears stung the back of my eyes as I turn away from him, walking into the wooded area towards the library. Mateo stayed inside and then quickly ran after me. “Your mother lived in a double world. The physical and the spirit world. You do too. But you are in a battle with yourself that keeps you from your greater good.”

  “I am not interested in two worlds. I have enough trouble in this physical one.”

  “You don’t have a choice. Your mother was taken from you before she could share what you need to know. But life isn’t separated from death. It only appears that way from this side, the physical side.” He jumped up into a tree. His athleticism and grace shocked me. He reached down and pulled me up with one arm. He climbed higher into the treetops, motioning for me to follow, but I shook my head. I felt high enough.

  “Come here. If you want to see what I see, come up here.”

  I climbed carefully through the rough and jagged branches, cursing him in my mind. He sat in a high branch and I sit between his legs.

  “Do you know about the White Buffalo?” He asks.

  “Of course. Every Blackfoot child learns that legend.”

  “It’s not just a legend. Every story has truth, including the White Buffalo.”

  “From what I remember, whenever there is chaos and disunity, the White Buffalo returns. She gives balance and unity.”

  “Exactly. She was your mother. Now she is you.”

  I feel dizzy and start to tilt to the right. Mateo holds me by my shirt. “I think I am going to pass out.”

  “No. You need to listen. You wanted to hear the truth. Your mother returned to the reservation when it was in a state of upheaval. Uranium mines poisoned the land. The water was toxic. She came here to learn the law and with her she brought ink - ink filled with the blood and tears of Blackfoot warriors. Stuart used it to mark her and to give her the power and strength of our warriors. Now she is gone and you must fill the void she left.”

  “I can’t do that. Plus, the White Buffalo is a myth, a symbolic story.”

  “Be patient, Sparrow. You need to find the right word. Words are power and you need yours.” He put his hand around my waist and helped me to the ground. I cracked the seal on a water bottle as we journeyed, side by side. We walked in time to the Blackfoot music that played between our hearts.

  ***

  “We have a problem, Mateo,” I say as we walk in the backdoor to the kitchen. “Stuart has basically told me that I’m not ready for the ink.”

  “He’ll do it. It’s only fair to let you know that every time the needle pushes into you, the pain of your nation will fill you. But it will also strengthen you.”

  “What if I’m not strong enough?”

  “Everything in its own time, that’s all.”

  “What about choice? Do I have a choice?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said with the sorrow of a man that knows agony and horror. The loss of my mother and the memory of the accident creep all around me; my stomach clenched in knots of pain and my face crumbled.

  “I can’t,” I whisper.

  “Can’t isn’t a safe word, Sparrow.”

  Chapter Nine

  The memory of the accident hung from me like a heavy wet cloak. I watched a girl leave The Black Line Tattoo Shop and walk towards the railroad yard. A flowering vine tattoo emerged from under the back of her tank top and crawled like it is living across her neck. She turns back to me.

  Her snowy hair, bluish lips, and bones jutting from her wrists, shoulders, and elbows accentuate her anemic and ghastly pale skin – translucent enough to see her veins. Frail and cadaverous, she appeared as a living dead girl.

  I walked closer to her and she emitted a guttural, feral hissing noise. I ran into Stuart’s shop with relief.

  Stuart sat by the window, cleaning his machine and looking through the blinds at the living dead girl as she stands on the empty sidewalk.

  “Do you know about the White Buffalo?” I blurt out.

  He stopped cleaning his equipment and pushed up his glasses. He seemed to wince. “Did your mother tell you about that?”

  “No. She died before she could. She told me about the tattoo though.”

  “Do you believe it?” he asked.

  “I am having a hard time believing anything right now.”

  We began a long silence, almost like a cautious dance, no one wanted to reveal more information to the other.

  His expression was troubled and anxious. “I don’t know if it’s time. It shouldn’t be done unless it’s right. You are here sooner than I’d expected.”

  “When did you expect me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I walk out into the nightfall.

  As I walked home, I saw her again, emerging from the woods alongside the road. Walking like a panther, the blanched icy girl stared at me. Her stride matched mine.

  She looked wilder than before, her untamed hair billows angrily as her icy gray eyes stare. Her eyes changed to a deep smoky violet. Still as stone but hyper-vigilant.

  Mateo bursts from nowhere and forced the keys to his jeep into my palm. “Drive it home,” he commanded.

  “What about you?” I mumbled as I tucked my hair behind my ears and wrapped my fingers around his keys.

  “Just go. Please do what I say, this one time.” His teeth were clenched as he looked over my shoulder at the girl. I turned towards the girl but he spun me sideways, grabbing my shoulders. I saw in his face he had no intention of letting me remain here.

  I stumbled into the jeep, my emotions crisscross and short circuit. What is going on? Mateo was in front of this wild girl; I had no idea how he got to her so quickly. I buckled and stared out the window. But now, where they stood, were two wolves in their place – one black, the other a steely grey.

  I blinked as my hair blew into my face. I started the jeep but didn’t put it into gear. I’m frozen in place. The leaves on the oaks turned upside down in the wind. The black wolf stiffened and bared its teeth as the grey wolf whipped its head to look towards me in the jeep as it crouched down low.

  Time felt like a vacuum. A feral snarl ripped from one of the wolves and both ran into the forest. I put the jeep in gear as Mateo appeared from the woods, disheveled and wet. The girl stood again, on the wood’s edge. But the wolves were gone.

  “What are you doing, Mateo?”

  “Leave her alon
e,” Mateo responds.

  “She won’t make it.”

  “She’ll make it farther than anyone.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “You can’t stop her. No one can.”

  Listening to their exchange paralyzed me. Mateo walked over to the driver’s side and with a slight cocked motion he gestured for me to climb back over to the passenger side. My hands still gripped the keys and he opened my palm to break my trance. I kept my head down, my eyes wouldn’t blink, and I couldn’t swallow.

  Mateo revved the engine. “How are you so calm?” My voice sounded high pitched and tight. “Can you tell me what just happened?” My mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, muffling my words, which struggled past the tightness in my throat.

  “I never noticed before,” he answered, “your hair has some blonde in it.” He stroked a strand of hair that is waving about from the open window.

  “Only in the sun.” My nervousness intensified as he played with my hair. My teeth started to chatter and my arms shook from cold and fear.

  He tossed me his jacket.

  “Thanks.” I slid into it. I buried my face in the sleeves; I loved how it smelled.

  “Are you going to pass out or something?” His face was concerned – he looked over as we stopped at a red light. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I nodded. He smiled and rested his hand on top of mine. Then he shook his head and looks unnerved. “This is more complicated than I’d planned.”

  I grabbed some water from my bag and nibbled on some stale crackers. “I think after what I just saw, you need to tell me exactly how you and Stuart and that girl fit together. And most of all, how all of this really concerns me.”

  “Her name is Winona.”

  “And?”

  “She’s a dark force, an opposing dark force to your light. She wants to have your power, the power that your mother had… I’m here to make sure it all goes well.”

  “So we are back to the White Buffalo?” I asked.

  “Yes. Winona wants what is yours. She wants to make it dark.”

  I was unable to move from the Jeep until my brain settled. I sat in silence with Mateo in my driveway.

  “Promise me something,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t go to The Black Line without me. I want to be there for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s just leave it at that for now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Tomorrow,” I replied while jumping down from the Jeep.

  “Sparrow?” I turned as he leans across the gear stick and my heart jumps.

  “Sweet dreams.”

  ***

  “Sparrow!” Jenny called from inside the kitchen when I walked inside. “Where have you been?” She looked out the window over the sink at Mateo driving away. “Who’s that guy?”

  “Just a guy, sort of an old friend.”

  “Looks like more than just an old friend to me.”

  “I don’t know, really. It’s…complicated.”

  “Complicated with Layne or complicated with that guy? Listen, I will tell you right now that I’m a big fan of Layne and I think you’re super lucky he likes you so much. But I am your friend first and foremost, so…I’m here for you. If you want to talk.”

  “Thanks, I guess I’m confused about everyone. Not everyone is who they seem.”

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning was dark and foggy, absolutely dismal. I threw on my jeans and flip-flops, regardless of the Weather Channel’s call for rain. I ran down the stairs into the kitchen and pour a bowl of Cheerios. I chased them down with an energy drink.

  Outside, the mist and dew clung to my neck and feet. Such a thick fog was in the air that I didn’t see the other car in the driveway. A beaten-up gold Volkswagen Jetta. It’s Layne.

  “Do you want a ride?” Layne smiled as he jumped out of the car. “And, um, surprise!” He seemed uncertain of my response.

  “When did you get here? Are you here for good?” I ran over wishing I had gotten up earlier to look more presentable.

  “About an hour ago. Drove straight from Wilmington.” He moves closer and closer to me, walking pensively until our feet touch.

  “Careful, I’m practically barefoot.”

  “Sweet toes,” he continued. “I love blue toenails.”

  I feel a pinch of unwarranted jealousy. “I guess you’ve admired a lot of blue toes.”

  “Sparrow…I love your blue toes. Just yours.”

  I crawled into his car; stepping over banana peels, empty coffee cups and water bottles. The floor was strewn with papers filled with lyrics and guitar picks. It smelled perfect, like Layne. I lean over the parking brake and kiss him on his neck; I get up on my knees and crawl into his lap.

  “Move the seat back,” I panted.

  “Mmm…” he smiled as I noticed his hardness in his jeans. I rubbed him with one hand as I pulled my pants down with the other.

  “Sparrow,” he said, barely above a groaning whisper, “Anyone can see.”

  “No, it’s too foggy.” I unbuttoned his pants, five silver buttons and I was moments from heaven. I ripped his pants down to his knees and shimmied out of mine as quickly as I could.

  When my thighs touched his bare skin, I shook inside. I grabbed him at his base and held him as I lifted myself upon the tip of him. My wetness made the connection easy as I gently slid down his hardness. As I reached fullness, Layne grabbed my hips and ground into me. Our eyes locked as sweat glistened on his forehead. He pulled the back of my hair with one hand and ripped my sports bra down with the other.

  “Is this too rough?” he asked as his mouth reached my breast.

  I looked down to watch his lips swirl around my nipples, immediately they peeked as goosebumps ran over my body. I raised my hips again, riding him up and down, slowly at first and then faster. I lifted myself up and gently let his tip go in and out of me. Just the tip. His eyes stared down, watching my body take him, in and out.

  “Sparrow…” he groaned. “Take all of me.” He pushed me down onto his fullness and rammed his hips into mine. My breasts bounced in his face and I started to giggle as I watched how transfixed he was. I mean, I’m not a big-busted woman. I am barely a B cup, but as I have always noticed, it’s not your size that matters, it’s how comfortable you are in your own skin.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jenny walked towards the 9:30 Club carrying her camera bag. Her Nikon is ready and poised to take pictures of the infamous bouncer with all the tattoos.

  “Jenny,” Layne yelled out the window. “Hold up.”

  We parked as Jenny waited for us. “I have a class tomorrow, an early one,” I protested slightly but Layne’s smile made me forget about it.

  “I’ll make sure you get there. Let’s just see who’s playing tonight.” He winked and held my hand.

  When we crossed the street, everything looks askew. The street looked overly sharp and clear, then its edges faded and blurred. The people outside looked dark and stiff, as if they were from an old photograph.

  We walked up to the window where a muscular man, with enormous earlobes and a tattoo that covers the lower part of his face, stood guard. Showing our identification, we get our hands stamped and are nodded inside and up the stairs. A wall of smells – spilled beer, cleaning fluids, vomit, and rodent urine - hits us in the face.

  The music, the movement of the crowd, and the dark and erratic lights flashing, pulled us to the center of the floor. Jenny took my hand and we danced like marionettes into the sea of people.

  I see you. I can find you anywhere. I heard her again. I looked everywhere for the disembodied voice that comes from nowhere.

  “Do you see a strange girl anywhere?” I yelled to Jenny.

  “Everyone’s strange here,” she laughed.

  “Wait. Up there. At the upstairs bar by the rail.” I saw her, looking down.

  “I don’t see anyone unusual. Don’t be so paranoid. I’m
getting a drink. Do you want something?”

  Then it happened in a flash.

  “NO!” Mateo shouted. When did he get here? He leapt towards me from the tables along the walls. The crowd scattered, drinks dropped, glass broke. Winona moved faster than Mateo, faster than humanly possible. It sounded like thunder. I slip or I’m pushed on the floor and stinging pain shoots through my arm. Confused and shocked, my ears stung and my mouth was sour. I look down at the warm redness of my own blood pouring down my arm. I see punctures in my forearm and then I look into the cold grey eyes of Winona.

  Behind her, Mateo reached down and pulls her up by the back of her hair. She doesn’t blink.

  “So Mateo is here for you again.” Her tiny nostrils flared like a dragon. “He is the better boyfriend after all.” And she is gone…

  Bouncers appeared from every corner of the club and gathered around me, helping me up.

  Jenny bent over me, helping me up. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?

  “We have to get that cleaned up right away,” interrupted Mateo. Layne and Max walked towards me from the bar area. Layne looked at Mateo and then at me. Mateo’s arm is wrapped around me. Layne looked confused as if he doesn’t recognize me.

  A server ran towards me with the scratchy brown paper towels from the bathroom. Completely non-absorbent, the paper merely smeared the blood all over my arm.

  “What happened?” Layne asked softly, stepping between Mateo and me.

  “We were dancing and some crazy girl pushed me and somehow I got cut.”

  “Who would randomly cut you?” He looked at Mateo, who wasn’t moving from his position of standing guard. “Who is this?” he asked me.

  “You’ll figure it out eventually.” Mateo turned away and left. No one else saw the girl or saw what happened to me.