I excused myself early for bed. Beth asked if I felt well enough for her to go into the church tomorrow morning. Yes. I wanted as many hours as possible alone with that photo.
Jamie was more handsome than I expected, despite the stupid cowboy hat. No wonder Mom hated cowboy hats. The photo wasn’t from camp, because my parents stood beside a pickup truck that must’ve been Jamie’s. Was the girl in the photo really my mom? Were her dress pockets full of rocks? Actually her dress was horrible and hid her shape. But her hair was gorgeous, pulled seductively off to one side. Why weren’t my parents smiling or touching? Even friends embraced for photographs. Maybe it was from the day Mom met his family. She didn’t look sad in the photo, but almost. There was a softness about her that was completely gone now. The look on Jamie’s face was of someone who knew things would work out, at least for him, because they always had. Unlike the image I had in my head of my parents meeting by a lake at camp, this real image didn’t make me feel warm. Still, I pressed the photo to my chest.
I grabbed Mom’s Bible from the desk. I’d been reading it and even memorizing verses, instead of SAT vocabulary, in preparation for the healing. I planned to keep the photo in the Bible. The page I randomly opened to had Mom’s handwriting, only bubblier, all over in the margins. We had lots of books at home with her notes in the margins. I read her writing on the Bible page: Jamie doesn’t love me. He did love me. I know he did. He did! (underlined three times). He has forsaken me. I must go on without him, but how when I have his baby in me? His baby!! (underlined four times). Jamie doesn’t want his baby. He doesn’t love me anymore. I’ll write it here over and over. And she did, page after page. Jamie doesn’t love me. He doesn’t love me. He never loved me! I got a pen. I LOVE YOU, MOM, I wrote over her handwriting. THE BABY LOVES YOU!!! The boy in the photo, my smug dad—who’d probably never looked for me—he could go fuck himself.
* * *
I woke to the sound of Reuben’s truck pulling into the gravel driveway next door. Both Uncle Matt and Aunt Beth were already gone. The sky was clear and bright. Teresa’s van was also gone. One car and another truck followed Reuben’s truck. Teresa and Reuben had a lot of company, on and off, usually relatives. I moved to the front room blinds to get a better view. A bunch of teenagers piled out: all Indian, except one white guy in a rodeo shirt and sunglasses, who immediately put his arm around a girl’s waist. I’d seen the extralarge kid before, but I’d never talked to him. It was Reuben’s cousin Ray Tonasket. They all were laughing, even Reuben, but I could see he kept glancing in my direction. He wore a checked button-up shirt, one I hadn’t seen him in before, and baggy cargo shorts, though not too baggy. He looked preppy. Usually he wore T-shirts with jeans or basketball shorts. He didn’t have a lot of clothes. Neither did Aunt Beth or Teresa. I felt guilty when Reuben complimented my outfits. Back in Sac, at school, I never felt I had enough clothes to keep up. I think Mom bought me all the clothes she possibly could, at the expense of dinners out or the occasional movie, to prevent me from being totally shunned, and it worked. But it was my timidity that kept me from having any real friends. I noticed now that the two girls couldn’t take their eyes off Reuben. I could. I turned away.
I decided to water the garden after I showered and got ready. I took a Vicodin pill before my shower and then another one afterward. I was no good around groups of kids, especially in nonacademic settings, but maybe if the edges were blurry, I’d do better. At the last minute I chose to wear the dress Aunt Beth had made me for the healing. She’d already washed it and hung it in the closet. I fastened my hair back in a bun like Beth had, only more loosely. Reuben had said he’d go anywhere with me in the dress. I wanted to see if he’d even acknowledge me in front of his friends. And maybe I also wanted to know how it had felt for Mom with Jamie.
I hoped I didn’t trip down the steps. I was seriously high for the first time in my life. More than just the edges were blurry. Reuben’s friends instantly got quiet when they saw me. All I could hear was the wind in the tall poplar trees that lined two sides of the trailer park. I loved the sound. Reuben wasn’t out there with his friends. He must’ve run inside for something. They started to snicker, then laugh. Who cared? I filled the watering can. The plants had dust all over them, as if they’d been neglected the whole time Reuben was away. He was back outside when I turned around. Ray pointed. Reuben looked straight at me. He didn’t hesitate, even for a second. He almost ran.
“Emmy.” He took me in his arms and gave me a bear hug. His friends cheered, mockingly or for real, I couldn’t tell. “I missed you, girl.”
“You didn’t.” I began to cry. I’d been so afraid that I wouldn’t see him again, that he and I would never again climb the hay bales down the road and stare at the sky or watch the horses in a fenced pasture and have Reuben laugh at me when I asked him, a Colville Indian, if he knew how to ride a horse. And now here he was hugging me. His brown eyes looking into mine. Connor also had brown eyes, but Reuben’s were darker, like soil deeper in the earth when Aunt Beth and I gardened. I felt dizzy.
He cupped my face in his hands. They smelled like cigarettes. “I flinched, Emmy. That’s all. You scared me.” He wiped my tears with his thumbs. “I want to kiss you so bad. It’s all I’ve been thinking about. But not in front of them.” He nodded in their direction. “Do you want me to kiss you, Emmy?” He knew I’d let him, that any girl in the world would let him. Same with Connor. Same with Jamie Kagen. He let go of my face and took both my hands in his. “Your hands are so warm, Emmy. I can’t quit saying your name. Are you okay?” I nodded. “I missed you so much.” He hugged me tightly. “Come meet my friends.”
“Not in this dress.”
“Why not? I’m proud of you for wearing it.” He stepped back to get a better look at me in the dress. “So many buttons.” He touched the first three, but then stopped as he got near my breasts. “And a bun.” He touched my hair. He was in a playful mood. “You didn’t convert while I was gone, did you, Sister Emmy?”
“Why? Because I missed you so much?” It was the first mean thing I’d ever said to him.
He paused. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me—you couldn’t.”
I looked away. Hurting him didn’t make me feel better, as it used to with Connor. Mom had claimed eastern Washington was flat, but it wasn’t really. It was a broken landscape of basalt cliffs and coulees. Even from where I stood at that moment, I thought I saw a few slopes or outcroppings in the distance. I’d never been good with directions. Were the slopes to the north, as was Reuben’s reservation? In which direction were my father’s wheat-covered hills?
“Emmy,” he called, as if I were farther away, on those slopes, and maybe I was. He called my name again. I looked at him. “Where are you?” he asked.
“Where did you go?”
“I’ll tell you later. I promise.” His friends were shouting for him. “And you can tell me all about the ceremony? Okay?” His clothes looked brand new and too crisp. “Are you okay?” His hair was freshly cut.
“Where did you get that outfit?” I liked him better in his usual clothes.
“I swapped furs for it with a white guy.” He grinned.
I didn’t dare ask him where he got the money, which was a touchy subject with Reuben, and none of my business.
“I chopped firewood for four days on the rez. My shoulders ache.” He rolled them. “I’m trying to pretend they don’t. Now, come meet my friends.”
“Let me change first.”
He drew me close, and I let him. He whispered in my ear, “You’re my girl.” He’d never called me that before. He made eye contact. “My only girl.”
Before venturing outside, I’d put an origami bird in my dress pocket. I’d been folding them for my aunt for weeks. The one I gave her at the airport she wanted to hang above the crib in my room. I told her to wait—I’d make her a dozen birds and design a m
obile for the baby. I’d made nine birds so far that I was satisfied with. The paper bird I pulled from my pocket now was the best. I handed it to Reuben. He looked at it strangely for a second, then smiled.
Going back inside to change, I undid my bun. I’d noticed outside that both girls had waist-length dark hair that blew around in the wind. My hair fell past my shoulders, but not to my waist, and was light-colored like Beth’s (and like my dad’s, I now knew). Mom sometimes teased me for being a blonde. I ratted my hair big, like a blond bimbo. “An example of purity,” the preacher had called me. What the hell did he know? Or Beth? Or Mom? Or even Reuben? Only Connor knew I was blemished. He’d blemished me, and I’d let him. I put on a pair of my pajama shorts, since they were the shortest ones I owned. One of the girls wore a denim miniskirt. The other one was dressed like a guy. I put on a tank top but no blouse overtop. My pink bra straps hung out. Then I put on my widest belt and heavy eye shadow. For the finishing touch, I dug from my suitcase the only pair of high-heeled shoes I owned. Mom let me buy them at a thrift store—I begged—but only to wear around the house. They were black peep-toe stilettos. She called them my hoochie heels. I’d packed them so she wouldn’t toss them.
The irrigation sprinklers across the road had clicked on. They’d run all day and evening. Reuben didn’t dart toward me this time. He seemed frozen in place by his pickup truck, which was the reaction I’d hoped for. I let one of my bra straps fall down. There were five boys altogether, counting Reuben, and two girls. I strutted toward them. I’d practiced plenty in the shoes when Mom wasn’t home. Reuben and Ray were the only two boys who didn’t hoot call. Ray looked scared, in fact, and kept looking from me to Reuben.
“Hi,” I said when I made it over to them. “I’m Emmy. From Los Angeles.” One boy wore a Tupac T-shirt. He and Ray had long hair. They all were drinking sodas (pops) and beers from a cooler, except Reuben, who wasn’t drinking anything. They said hello back. The girl who was with the white boy was beautiful, and I almost faltered, despite having taken two semesters of drama (which I sucked at). “Anyone got a spare cigarette?”
“I’m Benji,” the skinniest boy said, coming forward with a pack of smokes. He was dressed like a gangster in superbaggy shorts and a bandanna. “I’ll be goddamned,” he said. “Better than a rodeo queen.” He’d almost lit my cigarette for me when Reuben knocked the lighter from his hand. “Fuck you, dude,” Benji said, picking up his lighter from the gravel. Reuben yanked the cigarette from my mouth and threw it on the ground. After pulling up my bra strap, he grabbed my arm. Ray stepped toward us, but Reuben told him to get the fuck back.
“Let’s go,” Reuben said to me. I had no intention of moving. His face was close to mine. In my heels I was almost as tall as him. I kissed him on the lips. I’d intended to lay a good one on him, but I was too embarrassed. He started to kiss me back, then realized what was happening. “Don’t,” he said with disgust. He actually wiped off my kiss.
“That’s jacked up, Tonasket,” said the not-so-pretty girl, glancing at me kindly for a second, then back at Reuben. “You’re such an asshole.”
His grip remained firm as he walked me back to my aunt’s house. I wasn’t scared, not for a second. If I’d tried to get free, he would’ve let me. He didn’t dump me at the steps but climbed them with me. He opened the door, still holding my arm, and escorted me inside. “Put on some clothes,” he said.
“This is how people dress in California, where I’m from.”
“You don’t. And you’re from here.”
“I hate it here.” I felt a wave of nausea hit as I kicked off my heels. I hadn’t eaten. I’d meant to fix some peanut butter toast right after I took the pills. “And I’m not your girl.” I almost fell taking off my belt, which I’d cinched too tight. Reuben caught me. He helped me into the bedroom. “I hate it here,” I said again, just in case he hadn’t heard me.
He sat me on the bed. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Emmy.” He sat down beside me. “I can make it up. Give me half a chance.” He sighed. “Don’t get back at me this way.”
“Kiss me, Reuben. If you really missed me.”
He shook his head. “Not with you dressed like that.”
“Like what?”
“You know.”
“Like what? Just say it.”
He did, but he looked away first. “Like a slut, I guess. Shit. The thought of Benji’s seeing your bra straps.” He looked back. “Only I know you’re not slutty.”
I wanted to crawl under the covers. I felt like a fool and like a slut. Had Aunt Beth pulled up and seen my outfit, she would’ve been mortified and probably had a miscarriage on the spot. But instead of getting under the covers like a bashful girl, I took off my tank top.
“You don’t know anything about me,” I said.
He stared at my bra for a few seconds. Reaching over with one hand, he traced my collarbone. Then he stood up and went to the dresser and pulled out a T-shirt. It happened to be the BERKELEY T-shirt Mom had recently mailed to me—as a not-so-subtle reminder to study for my SATs. He walked over to me and sat back down and then put the shirt on me. “Come here,” he said, taking my face in his hands as he had outside. “I do know you.” He kissed me. “I know you,” he whispered. I felt each of his next kisses deeper inside me, though they all were gentle. It hadn’t felt this way with Connor—this easy or direct—maybe because of his pierced tongue and all the tricks he did with it and all the tricks he tried to teach me to do with my tongue. I wouldn’t let Reuben pull away. I leaned back on the bed and took him with me. He tried to keep the weight of his body off me. I wanted to feel it. He slowly slid his hand up the back of my shirt and under my bra strap, but then he just rested it there. His other hand found the pill bottle on my bed, where I’d tossed it earlier. He sat up.
“What are these?” he asked. It was a prescription bottle, but the label had been ripped off.
“Just some pills.” I sat up too quickly. The room spun.
“Your pills?” I nodded. “You’re on medication?” He sounded pissed. “For what? And why’s the label torn off?”
“Someone gave them to me.”
“Who?” he demanded. “What are they? Don’t lie to me.”
“They’re just Vicodin.” I hesitated. “Connor gave them to me. They’re his mom’s.”
“What?” He stood up. “Why?”
“He thought they’d help me relax while I was here.”
“What kind of douche bag gives a girl drugs?” Did he expect me to answer that? “Are you high right now?” Again, I didn’t answer. “I don’t go out with druggies.” He looked at me with disgust for the second time that day. “There are plenty of them in Omak.”
“I don’t do drugs, Reuben.” How ridiculous.
“Except today, right?” He was being too harsh.
I could be harsh too. “Today, and the first day we met. Or I wouldn’t have talked to you.” I meant I wouldn’t have been able to talk to him. I would’ve been too shy.
He made a pained face. “Maybe I don’t know you.” He threw the pill bottle back onto the bed, careful, though, not to hit me with it. “No, on second thought.” He came over and grabbed the bottle. He walked out of the bedroom, and a few seconds later I heard the toilet flush.
“I feel weird,” I said when he came back into the room. And I did. “I’ve never taken two pills before at one time.
“Hold me,” I said. “At least until the room quits spinning.” I climbed under the covers and motioned for him to join me. He didn’t. “Everything is spinning but you. Will you hold me?” Still no response. “My hands are glowing from the healing. Let me touch you with them.” I held them out. “And then you’ll forgive me.” He came to me, said there was nothing to forgive. “I see only you clearly, Reuben. Mom says never to tell a boy you love him first, before he tells you, so I won’t.” I asked him to take off his shirt. “There,” I s
aid, touching his shoulders, which were sore from chopping wood, and then his chest, and then his belly, in the same way I’d touched Aunt Beth’s belly in the lake. “Aren’t my hands warm?”
I slept in his arms, a fitful sleep. I woke every five minutes or so to ask, “You still here?” and to tell him that I hadn’t meant it when I’d said I wasn’t his girl. There were tears on his cheeks as he talked to me about drumming, and about an elder named Virgil who had a sweat lodge in his garage, and then finally about his dad. My warm hands seemed to have loosened something in him. He spoke a few words in a language I’d never heard before, even in California. It sounded old and somehow like the land.
“You still here?” I asked.
“Stop. I’m not going to leave you.”
He did leave the bedroom, though. He had to before Aunt Beth got home. He thought I was finally asleep when he left, but I got up and watched him through the blinds. He said not a word to his friends, who were still hanging by their vehicles. Ray tried to get into Reuben’s truck with him, but Reuben wouldn’t let him. Ray gave Reuben the finger, and then so did Benji. He would be back. When he passed by the window—he didn’t know I was awake and watching—the look on his face was a grave one. What had I done to him? Just weeks before he’d jumped boldly off the back steps of his sister’s trailer to say hi. I didn’t mean to freak him out. But I did want my hands to be the warmest hands that had ever touched him.
9
Reuben
Emmy. Emmy. Emmy. Emmy.
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