“I don't understand.”
“No, you wouldn't, but if you want to, I'll try to help you understand.”
I thought about it a minute. “I do want to understand,” I said slowly. “I think I have to understand.”
She smiled. “That's what I was hoping you'd say. It won't be easy though. And you'll have to keep it a secret from your mom.”
I nodded--that one I knew without being told.
“Come on,” she said. “Let's get back to the powwow. There's someone I want you to meet.”
We made our way back just in time to hear the emcee announce that Skye Morgan was about to give a demonstration of fancy dancing. I found myself trying to see through the crowd to the dance circle. Lily couldn't help but notice.
“Go watch him,” she said. “I'll go make sure the person I want you to meet is still here.”
I stood indecisively as the drumming began until she gave me a gentle push in the direction of the circle. I glanced back to see her weaving away through the crowd, so I turned back to the circle and gently pushed my way once more to the rope. Skye had just begun to dance, but even knowing as little as I did about powwows and dancing, it didn't take me long to realize that if the first guy I'd seen dancing was good, Skye was amazing. Every move he made was filled with a pure fluid grace. Watching him now, it was easy to believe that there was some magic in dancing; that it really was some form of primitive communication between man and the gods. Or maybe not so primitive after all--no one watching Skye move could call what he was doing primitive--powerful, yes; sensual even, but not primitive.
Transfixed by his dance, I watched unblinking while he moved faster and faster as the drums swelled to a heart-pounding crescendo, then stopped suddenly as Skye leaped impossibly high into the air, his body arched, his arms flung over his head. For a brief moment, it seemed as if he might keep rising, but gravity exerted its hold, and the drummers thumped the drum one last time as Skye's feet touched the earth once more. The reverberation of the final beat still thrummed in the air as Skye raised his eyes, found me in the crowd, and gave me the same slow, smoldering smile he'd given me in the Dairy Queen that day. He stayed in the center of the circle until the applause began to die out, then walked directly towards me. He ducked under the rope and stood in front of me, breathing heavily. He was too close for my comfort, so close I could feel his body heat rolling off of him like steam. I tried to keep my eyes on his face, but his glistening chest heaving only inches away kept drawing my eyes south.
“You didn't clap,” he said.
I blinked several times. “Sorry?”
“Was I that bad?”
“No!” I gasped. “You were incredible.” I bit the inside of my cheek when I heard the awed tone in my voice.
He grinned. “You really think so?”
I nodded.
“Come on,” he said with a jerk of his head. “I need something to drink after that.”
I followed him as he made his way towards one of the food booths, but our progress was slow as people kept stopping him to compliment him on his dancing. We finally made it to the booth and he bought a bottle of water. The smell of the fry bread was enough to distract me from Skye momentarily. Skye, of course, noticed right away.
“You want anything?” he asked.
“No, I'm okay,” I said quickly.
“Have you ever had fry bread before?”
I shook my head no.
“Oh man, you've got to try it.” He ordered a piece of fry bread, and a steaming plate was handed over.
“What do you want on it?” Skye asked, moving towards a small table set up to one side. It held an assortment of toppings: powdered sugar, honey, and jellies.
“I don't know. Just fix it how you usually do,” I said shyly.
He poured on some honey then dusted it liberally with the powdered sugar. “Follow me,” he said, once he had it garnished to his liking. He led me a short distance from the hubbub to a picnic table that was lightly screened from the rest of the park area by a small stand of trees. He sat down on one side and patted the bench next to him. I obediently sat to his right. He tore off a piece of the bread and popped it in his mouth.
“You've really never had this before?” he asked.
“No,” I answered shortly. It was all I could manage. For some reason, my heart was hammering at my chest like it wanted out. It left me feeling tense, as if I sensed something was about to happen but I didn't know what.
“You're going to love it,” he said as his eyes locked with mine. He tore off another chunk of bread and deliberately lifted it to my lips. Without thinking, I parted my lips and he slipped the piece into my mouth. It was incredibly sensual and I felt a stirring in my pants. I chewed automatically as he brought his fingers to his own lips and licked off the sugar and honey, his eyes never leaving mine for a second. I almost forgot to swallow.
“What do you think?” he asked after a moment.
“Huh?”
His mouth twitched. “About the fry bread.”
“Oh, uh…” I hadn't even tasted it. “It was good.”
He grinned knowingly. “Want more?”
I nodded.
Before I could reach for it myself, he'd broken off another piece and fed it to me. I was achingly hard by now and desperately hoping that Skye wouldn't look down at my lap. I made a point to actually taste the bread this time and found it really was quite good. It reminded me a bit of the funnel cakes I'd had at carnivals as a kid, but better.
“So Lily Snyder is your aunt?” he asked, startling me with the suddenness of the question.
“Yeah,” I answered softly.
“And you've never had fry bread before?”
“This is my first time at a powwow.”
His eyes grew wide with surprise. “But don't you live around here?”
“Yeah.”
“How can you be local and Lily Snyder's nephew and never have gone to a powwow?”
I shrugged. “My parents don't really get along with Lily and they never took me to a powwow. They're pretty religious.”
“So?” He frowned. “What's that got to do with anything? It's not like we're out here worshipping the devil. We worship the same God. I even go to church…sometimes.”
I shrugged again. I didn't have the answers and even if I did, I didn't feel like defending my parents.
“So your parents don't know you're here?” he asked after a minute.
“Nope,” I said.
He grinned. “Cool. The crossing guard is a rebel.”
I flushed again at the reminder of our first meeting.
The grin vanished in a blink and he was all earnest sincerity. “Hey look, I'll stop teasing you about that if you'll explain what it was all about.”
I shook my head no.
“Come on. It's been driving me crazy ever since it happened. I've almost gone down to the Dairy Queen and asked you a couple times. Ebony, my friend who was with me that day, thinks I'm being stupid and it's only because you're so cute…” My blush deepened at that. “…but that's not it. Or at least it's not all of it. I felt something really weird that day when I was looking into your eyes.”
I looked away now and shook my head again. “I can't,” I whispered.
“Why not?”
“I don't even understand what happened.”
He watched me for a minute, then seemed to decide that I was telling him the truth. “Then why don't you tell me what happened and maybe we can figure it out together.”
A tingle went up my spine at the word `together' and suddenly I did want to tell him. “I…after you left…I thought I saw you get hit by a car.” The expression on his face froze as I spoke the words. “When I ran outside though, you, uh, you weren't even near the road. I was really confused, but then you started backing towards the road just like I thought I'd seen you do a few seconds before, so I yelled for you to stop. And then the car that I'd just seen hit you drove by.” I shuddered at the memory. The d
rums stopped behind us and Skye sat staring at me expressionlessly in the sudden hush. I started to babble to fill the silence. “I know, it sounds stupid. I shouldn't have even told you. Now you probably think I'm some sort of freak. I'll just go.” I stood to leave, but Skye's hand shot out and caught me by the wrist, pulling me gently back down.
“You really don't have any idea, do you?” he said in a quiet voice.
“About what?”
He shook his head slightly, almost to himself. “Never mind,” he said, his voice so soft I almost couldn't hear him. He was looking at me differently now, with a new respect. He smiled suddenly.
“What?” I asked defensively.
“You just look so cute sitting there with that powdered sugar on your lips.”
I swiped at my mouth, but his smile just grew. “You missed.” I wiped again. “Missed again. Here. I'll get it.”
He leaned slowly towards me. I knew what he was about to do and wasn't at all sure I wanted him to, but at the same time, I seemed unable to move. His lips met mine and for a moment, we were kissing. Then I snapped out of whatever spell I'd fallen under and jerked away.
“I'd better go find Lily,” I gasped as I leaped up. I was breathing as heavy as if I'd just finished a marathon. “She's probably looking for me,” I gibbered as I backed slowly away. “There's someone she wants me to meet. It was nice meeting you and thanks for the fry bread. It was really good.” Skye just watched me make my ungraceful exit with a half smile on his lips. “Bye,” I blurted as I spun around and practically ran away.
“I'll see you later,” he called after me.
I threw myself back into the crowd, which had thinned out significantly since I'd first arrived but was still large enough to lose myself in. As I walked, scanning the faces for Lily, I tried to calm myself down. That was easier said than done since I could still feel his lips pressed against mine.
It doesn't mean anything, I told myself forcefully. He kissed you, you didn't kiss him. My argument would have carried more weight if I'd resisted a little more or liked it a little less. I'm not gay. I'd been attracted to plenty of girls over the years, both physically and emotionally. I'd never even looked at guys…before now. The problem was, if I was honest with myself, I had to admit that I was more attracted to Skye than anyone I'd ever met. Did that make me gay?
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I almost walked right into Lily.
“There you are!” she said, grabbing me by the shoulders. “I've been looking all over for you. Where've you been?”
“I was with Skye,” I said. I couldn't read the expression that flickered across her face, but I quickly explained. “After he danced he bought me fry bread because I'd never had it before.”
“That was nice of him,” she said carefully. “Jacy…” she started, then stopped.
“What?” I asked.
“Just…be careful with Skye.”
I tried hard not to reveal anything with my face. “What do you mean?”
She paused and seemed to be thinking about her next words. “Just that Skye is a very…compelling person. He's a good kid, but…Oh, just be careful, okay?”
“I don't understand, but I'm always careful.”
She looked over at me and gave me a sad smile. “Yeah, I can believe that. Well, come on. The person I want you to meet is still here.” She set off at a purposeful pace and hurried to keep up. She expertly maneuvered through the crowd, leading me to a small booth with a hand-lettered sign hanging in front: Handmade Soaps, Essential Oils, Teas, and Herbal Remedies. A white-haired old man sat behind a table laden with the advertised products. Another table at the back of his tent was stacked high with books. He was talking to a customer as we approached and it gave me a chance to study him. He looked to be in his seventies, his face weathered by time into creased leather. His hair was long and he wore it pulled back into a single braid and tied with bright red strips of cloth. Unruly white eyebrows created deep shadows across his dark eyes, which still looked as sharp as a hawk's. His hands were steady and looked strong as he accepted the customer's money and handed them their purchase, several small brown vials that I guessed to be essential oils. Business taken care of, he turned to look at us with a gentle smile.
“Hello again Lily,” he said. His voice was warm and kind. I felt myself liking him instinctively. “Would I be correct in guessing that this young man is Jacy?”
“You would,” she said with a smile. I could tell she was genuinely fond of the old man. “Jacy, I'd like to introduce you to Fletcher Snyder.”
Snyder? That was Lily's last name. I looked back and forth between Lily and the older man, trying to figure out the connection. Or was it just a coincidence? As far as I knew, Lily had never been married, but I wasn't sure. Now that I thought about it though, she must have been or else her last name would have been Allen. So maybe this man was her father-in-law.
Lily watched my face carefully. “This is my father,” she said softly, still watching my face.
I closed my eyes as my head swirled. I opened them again and looked squarely at Lily. “What?” I asked, thinking maybe I'd misunderstood.
“This is my father.”
“But Grandpa Allen…”
“Grandpa Allen was my stepfather.”
I shook my head, trying hard to understand. “But that means…” I turned to the old man.
He nodded, still smiling gently. “I'm your grandfather.”
I stared disbelievingly at the stranger sitting before me. How could he be my grandfather? I'd never met him before; I didn't even know he existed. I'd always believed that Grandpa Allen was my grandfather. My mind refused to accept this new bit of information. It was too much to believe that everyone I knew-everyone I trusted-had lied to me my entire life.
Lily and...what did I call him? Mr. Snyder? Fletcher? Grandpa? Whoever he was, he and Lily now watched my face carefully, wearing identical concerned expressions.
Finally, I managed to find my voice. “How...?”
They exchanged glances, their eyes seeming to have an entire conversation in just a few seconds.
“Not here,” he said after a moment.
Lily nodded. “Jacy, this is a conversation we should probably have somewhere else. Fletcher lives nearby. Would you be okay with going there to talk?”
I nodded woodenly as some small part of my brain registered the fact that Lily called him Fletcher. Is that what they would expect me to call him too? I decided it would do for now anyway. At least I'd have something to call him in my own mind. I stood in shocked immobility while the two of them quickly packed his wares into cardboard boxes. It only took two boxes to pack his herbal items and a tarp was thrown over the book table. Lily plopped one of the boxes into my arms, picked up the other one, and started walking in the direction of the parking lot. I stared dumbly after her for a few seconds. My brain seemed to be having trouble keeping up.
“Better follow her, Jacy,” Fletcher said with a hint of humor in his voice. “Lily waits for no man.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I'll meet you at my house. I'm parked somewhere else.”
I nodded and rushed to catch up with my aunt. I was halfway to the parking lot when Skye and I spotted each other at the same time. He took a few steps in my direction, but something in my face must have warned him off. He gave me a small wave, which I couldn't return for the box in my hands. We maintained eye contact until a group of people surged between us, cutting him off from my view. Something else to figure out, I thought wearily. As if I don't have enough going on.
When I arrived at Lily's car, she already had the trunk open and her box loaded. Without a word, she took my box from me, dropped it in next to the other one, and slammed the truck closed. “Hop in,” she said.
I mutely did as ordered as she climbed into the driver's seat and started the car.
“Jacy, I'm sorry to have sprung this on you all at once,” she said as she drove. “Maybe that wasn't the bes
t decision, but I didn't know how else to tell you.”
“I just don't understand,” I said weakly.
“I think we'd better wait and let Fletcher explain.”
“Why do you call him Fletcher?”
She paused a moment. “I never really knew him as a father until I was an adult. By that time, I already had a father, the man who'd raised me.”
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