Claimed

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Claimed Page 7

by K. R. Smith


  I had worked hard for five solid years, for this office and its view… now I was going to say goodbye to it.

  “Damn it,” I breathed.

  Instead of going inside, I turned and headed towards somebody else’s office.

  “Hi Jess,” my boss’s secretary, looked up from her desk in surprise. “You don’t have a meeting, this morning.”

  “I know, but I need to speak to Kristy, please.” I spoke reluctantly.

  “Oh, well she might be able to squeeze you in before her 8.15.” Mona looked at her watch, before she picked up the phone. “Kristy? It’s Jessica, requesting to speak to you.” Then she put down the handset and nodded towards the closed door, behind her. “Go on in.”

  *****

  The meeting began well, with Kristy advising me the clients I met with on Monday morning, were impressed with my presentation. But when I gave her my resignation, things quickly went downhill. At first she thought I was threatening to leave for a pay rise, until I told her I had to give four days notice instead of four weeks. Then she accused me of going to work for one of our competition.

  Lastly, she had a security guard, escort me back to my office, to watch me pack up my things. My face burned in humiliation, as the administration staff stared at me as if I had just been fired. I was given a cardboard box to put my personal items in, as the security guard confiscated my rolodex, in case I’d try to poach clients.

  Then the guard escorted me to the elevator, past everyone’s desks. I heard a couple of, “bye Jess” as I walked through, but otherwise they must have thought I’d been caught stealing, or something as such. The elevator went ‘bing’ and the double doors opened, and at 8.23 am I left the floor where my office was, unemployed.

  My heart was pounding as my legs wavered and on unsteady feet, I walked out of the building and into the bright light. Uncharacteristically, it was a sunny day in Seattle that morning, the day my resignation turned into instant dismissal. Oh the irony to have beauty and warmth, when inside I felt cold and scared.

  Suddenly, I heard a screech of tires when an old, blue, pick up truck, pulled up in the ‘no parking’ area, in front of the building.

  Flint leapt out of the driver’s side, as he rushed up to take the box in one arm as his other, escorted me to his vehicle.

  “Did you sense then that I just got fired?” I gaped.

  His concerned eyes peered into my own, “is that what happened? I just felt that you were angry and then embarrassed and now, very frightened.”

  Then it all poured out, “she just completely overreacted! At first she was singing praises for my work then she accused me of corporate espionage! She even had a security guard, escort me out of the office!”

  He carefully placed my box of things in the back, before he opened the door to the passenger’s side for me.

  When he climbed behind the wheel, I clutched his arm to say; “she even threatened not to pay out my accumulated annual leave, because I can’t work the last four weeks!”

  This made him pause, “how much leave do you have?”

  “After all my hard work for the last five years, and the first year of not taking any time off; twelve weeks!”

  Now he made a move to get out again, “I’ll go talk to her.”

  Imagining an angry Lokoti Werewolf with glowing eyes, long nails and sharp teeth, growling at the bitch; did make me feel better, but I didn’t want him to get into trouble.

  “No Flint!” I pulled him back. “The security guards have guns, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  He turned pensive, “as long as they don’t have silver bullets, it should be OK.”

  Then we sat quietly in his truck for a moment or two, before I heard him chuckle and I couldn’t help but to join him, by giggling.

  “Think of it this way,” his arm rested over my shoulders, “you’re free now and you’ll never have to see her again.”

  “Actually, I was laughing over the idea of you scaring the pants off her.”

  He guffawed at this, before turning the key in the ignition and driving us out of there.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  30th August 1999

  “Jessica…? Jessica, wake up. We’re nearly there.”

  Flint’s voice was gentle, as was his shaking, to stir me from my sleep. I opened my eyes, to look out the windscreen. But all I saw was more highway, more forest and more snow-capped, mountain ranges.

  “Huh, this is it?” I uttered out. “These are your tribal lands?”

  “No, we’re coming up to Alma.” He put his large, warm arm about my shoulders. “Our tribal lands are outside of town, on the north side.”

  I snuggled into his side and watched, as he turned off the main highway which ran from Anchorage to Fairbanks. We turned onto a smaller, concealed road which had a sign that read ‘Alma 5 miles’ and underneath, ‘Tok 184 miles’. This only accentuated the feeling of isolation out here.

  As we approached the small town, we drove past another sign which told us Alma had a population of 709 people. I looked on with new eyes, at what would be part of my home. What I originally thought of as a ‘one man and his one dog’ place to live, I tried to see its’ good side.

  The tiny town had one main street, where Charlie’s Bar was situated, as well as a small supermarket, a milk bar and a gas station. The cinema was inside an old, small building, which looked like it also functioned as a town hall. It was advertising its one and only movie, which would have opened in the rest of America, well over a month ago. My cosmopolitan evenings of ‘dinner and a show’ with friends in Seattle; had been reduced to going to Charlie’s Bar and attending the small cinema with one movie, for my entertaining pleasure.

  The main street was predominantly made up of residential homes, which we passed. At the end of the road sat a large building, which served as both Alma’s Elementary and High School. This is where my kid will go to learn, one day?

  Abruptly the township finished and I found ourselves driving through forest again.

  “This is the highway that Main Street is on, which goes on to Tok.” He informed. “If you ever wanted to drive to Fairbanks which is the closest, you would drive off tribal lands, through Alma and back onto the larger highway.”

  Flint drove with one hand on the wheel, as his other arm held me. Then he said proudly, “now we’re coming up to our tribal lands.”

  I sat up straighter, to look about. I watched as he pulled off the concealed road and onto a dirt one. We passed a Federal Wildlife sign which read, ‘Hunter National Park’ and then after it, was a much smaller sign which said, ‘Lokoti Community Centre.’

  After another mile, the forest cleared to show a tiny village, made up of wooden houses with stone chimneys. The dirt roads were only one-lane wide, with the odd pick up truck or RV’s passing each other, by driving on the fringes. The wooden houses weren’t large, but they had mown lawns.

  I saw Lokoti children run from one house to the next, as they played together. Occasionally, adults came outside to check up on them, and when they saw us drive by, they raised their hands in greeting. Flint nodded back, as he seemed to know everyone.

  He drove past a large, grassy block, which must have served as a sports field, as I saw some boys were playing soccer. Next to the ‘sports field’, was a small, wooden building, with a sign up, advertising it was a general store. Out the front, I saw one gas pump, where a Lokoti was filling up his RV.

  At a small intersection, Flint turned his truck away from the village, towards a forest encrusted hill. His old pick up truck, chugged up the steep, dirt road. Along the way, he pointed at a log cabin, sitting on the slope.

  “That’s John Wisetail’s place.” He said. “I helped him build his house after he helped me build mine. He lives there with his wife Unka, and their three kids.”

  “I met him in the bar, didn’t I?” I remembered.

  “Yep,” he answered, before he continued. “I built my house first, and John built his house second.
Then the Riley’s built theirs a couple years later and now the Windchime’s are building theirs, on top of the hill.”

  “If you built your house first, how long ago was that?” I queried.

  “Oh it was back in the sixties,” he thought aloud, “I guess it would have been ’64 that I started and completed it in ’65.”

  My eyes widened over the fact that my new ‘husband’ was old enough to be my grandfather, even if he didn’t look it. Flint caught my look of surprise, which made him chuckle. Then he pulled me close, to deliver a kiss to my forehead.

  “What’s the population of your tribe, Flint?” I queried.

  “Oh, we have around 167 people,” he shrugged, “which now includes you.”

  “So I’m number 167?” I smiled.

  “You sure are, so our son will be number 168.”

  He turned off the steep, dirt road and into a dirt driveway. The sight of a long, wooden veranda out the front of a large, log cabin greeted us. There was no yard or garden to speak of, just surrounding forest. But in spite of myself, I liked this house immediately. It looked homey and even welcoming.

  Flint pulled up in front of the wooden, porch steps and I climbed out of the truck immediately. Instead of making a move to get my things from the back, he took hold of my hand, to lead me to the front door. He rattled his keys as he made a move to unlock it, when he paused.

  “Oh, I forgot to lock up when I left.” He smiled in good humour, and then he simply turned the door knob.

  “You forgot to lock up?” I gawked. “You’ve been away, for nearly two weeks! What if you were robbed?”

  “We don’t have break-ins, here. If somebody needed to borrow something of mine, they would leave a note of what they took and how long they’d need it for.” He shrugged it off.

  Then he swung open the door and stood back to let me go in first before turning quiet, to watch my reaction.

  I walked into the large living area, which was a lounge and dining room combined. A large stone fireplace was situated in the lounge area, which had two old, leather couches and a couple of bookshelves, full of books. The walls were rough, showing concealer between the large logs, which gave the house a rustic appearance. The wooden floors were polished and there was a pine dining table set, which could seat six.

  I wandered into the kitchen, which was small and old fashioned, with an old gas stove. I hate gas, I’m going to change it to an electric, as well as buy a microwave. Then I saw a bathroom which had the laundry beside it, to find both had polished wooden floors too, instead of tiles. In the bathroom, was an old, wrought iron tub, with a shower head over it and a shower curtain. I decided I’d have this bathroom redone, to put in a separate shower.

  Flint followed me down a small hallway, to look in on the bedrooms. I saw two tidy guest bedrooms, with single beds and hand-woven quilts on top. When I poked my head inside the main bedroom, I found a queen sized bed with another hand-woven quilt. There were two bedside tables and a large wardrobe. Aside from the leather couches in the lounge room, all the furniture in the house was constructed of pine. I wondered if they were made here, from the ample trees of the surrounding forest?

  “Was the pine furniture built here?” I asked.

  “Yes, some of the families in the tribe, run furniture construction businesses.” He answered and then he watched me dawdle back into the living area. “Well Jessica, can you see yourself being happy here?”

  His voice sounded casual, but I detected he was nervous. When I looked on his face, I saw an anxious expression. The old giant, was worried if his house stood up to my standards? I thought that was so sweet!

  “I love it!” I beamed, which made his face light up. “I even love the rustic walls, coupled with the polished wooden floors.”

  “You do?” His eyes widened with hope.

  “But there are a couple of things I’d like to change, please?” I asked, feeling hopeful myself.

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like new couches.” I pointed at his old leather ones, and then I waved towards the kitchen. “And can we please get an electric stove instead of a gas one? I’ve never liked gas, especially when I nearly burnt my face off, trying to use my grandmother’s.”

  “Sure.”

  “Plus a microwave, they’re easier to use.” I went on. “And I want a new bathroom, with a separate shower.”

  “It’s the safe thing to do,” his hand settled over my stomach. “When you get bigger, you shouldn’t climb over the sides of a bathtub, to shower.”

  My heart warmed at how easy going he was, instead of refusing my demands.

  “Oh Flint, I have a good feeling about this!” I threw my arms about his large size.

  He squeezed me back, “I told you it would all work out, Jessica.”

  I pulled out of his embrace, as I began to plan aloud; “with the proceeds I have from selling the apartment and paying off the mortgage, leaves me with 12k. Then for selling my car, makes it fifteen and a half thousand dollars, we can use to do up the kitchen and the bathroom. We could hire contractors from Fairbanks, as it’s a hell of a lot closer than Anchorage.”

  His shoulders stiffened, as he pulled them back to declare; “you will not use your money towards the house. I have some money, saved up over the years.”

  “But Flint, what if what I want, is too expensive or out of your price range?”

  “Jessica,” he cupped my face, “when we go shopping, you’ll point out what you want and I’ll pay for it. Then we’ll bring these things back in my truck and I’ll install the stove and redo the bathroom myself. If I need extra hands, my friends in the tribe will help.”

  “Yeah, but what if I want a really expensive stove -” I tried again.

  “You keep your money for yourself,” he said adamantly.

  “Flint, please let me help -”

  “Invest it,” he said simply, “you never know if times will turn hard and we may need it for the children.”

  “On that note, it’s a good thing my best friend is a financial adviser,” I snickered.

  He grinned in good humour, after meeting my demanding ‘bestest bud’. “So, do you think Chris will like the house, when she comes to visit?”

  “When we’ve done up the kitchen and bathroom and living area, she’s gonna love it!” I beamed back. “Leave it to me, Flint. I’m a PR person, I design events, from catering to decoration to entertainment to publicity!”

  Flint wore this silly smile on his face, as he pulled me into another embrace.

  “I certainly have faith in you Jessica Riverclaw, there’s no doubt about that.”

  As his lips smothered mine, I almost turned to jell-o, with the feel of my softer body, pressed up against his firmer one. It felt like nothing could go wrong, whenever he held me in his larger, stronger arms…

  “Knock, knock!”

  Abruptly we pulled apart, to see a familiar looking Lokoti man, standing with an older looking Lokoti woman, in the front doorway. Behind them, were three Lokoti youths in the shapes of two teenaged boys and a girl. They looked like they were trying not to laugh, at the soppy scene they had just stumbled onto.

  “John and Unka,” he smiled warmly, “come on in.”

  “Well howdy there Jessica, it’s good to see you again!” The father came inside first, with his hand reaching out to shake mine.

  I shook his large, strong hand back; “I bet you’re surprised to see me here, John Wisetail.”

  “Not really,” he laughed back, “I saw my best friend was smitten, the moment you walked into Charlie’s Bar.”

  He did? I flashed Flint a look of surprise, as he stood back to let the introductions take place. I thought I had noticed him first, the day of our meeting.

  “Let me introduce you to my lovely wife, Unka.” His best friend waved towards the older looking woman, who shook my hand next. Then he indicated to his older sons and the younger daughter, “and these are our handful, Mark, Sean and Alice.”

  The children
appeared to be in their mid to late teens, and very curious of me. Alice stared at my blonde hair, as her brothers checked out my figure. I think they were also looking at my black jeans and dark pink, velvet top which looked a little city, compared to their country wear of blue denim and suede.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jessica.” Their mother held onto my hand, before she passed Flint a mock frown, “it’s good to see the old bear, finally start a family! Did you know he’s the only member of the pack, to wait this long to take a mate? The Tribal Elders began to worry, if it was the end of the Riverclaw line or what!”

  “It took a special one to finally catch my eye, Unka.” He smiled softly, my way.

  “Oh, I can see that!” Unka laughed good naturedly. “With your pretty face, fair hair and bright eyes, I can see why Flint has stars in his!”

  It wasn’t just his face that flushed, it was mine at well, at her cheekiness.

  “Now Jessica,” she turned back my way, “I don’t know how much of our customs Flint has explained; but when a couple moves in together, the tribe throws them a Housewarming.”

  “Really?” I asked, in surprise.

  “But since the old bear built this house long ago, and it’s fully equipped; he’s beaten us to the punch line.” Unka passed him another frown.

  “We’re getting new living room furniture and we’ll be redoing the bathroom and kitchen.” He announced.

  “Good!” John cried out, relieved. “You see, there’s going to be a Housewarming yet.”

  “Unka, are you stirring up trouble again?” Flint chuckled at his best friend’s wife.

  John turned my way, “my wife has been stewing about this, since she heard of your coupling. She and a couple of the women in the tribe, even had a meeting about it!”

  “Tradition is tradition,” she said sternly, “and since Flint is First in the Lokoti Werewolf pack, he should know better, than to try to skip on his own Housewarming.”

 

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