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The Alien Accord

Page 4

by Betsey Kulakowski


  “Inside.” Lauren glanced towards their hotel room nearby.

  “Give me Henry. You, go call your brother.”

  “I’ll do it later.” Lauren hesitated to hand over her son. “George is probably at work.”

  Bahati tilted her head and eyed her warily.

  “I’ll do it, I swear.” Lauren assured her. “I promise.”

  “You know you have to reconcile with your family, don’t you?”

  “Why do I have to?” Lauren rolled her eyes, her dread finally coming to the surface.

  “Because they are your family,” Bahati said. “No one knows you better or loves you more than your family.”

  “Why does it have to be so hard?”

  “Because it requires the truth ... which is practically your middle name. You can’t have reconciliation without truth.” Bahati said. “What did your family do to you that you are still so angry about?”

  Lauren paused for a long moment before she spoke. “If it were any one thing ...” she sighed. “It would be easy enough to mend. But it ... it was so many things ... Michael ... my mother.” A lump formed in her throat and she could feel the heat rise from her core.

  “I think you’ve held on to your anger so long, it’s become familiar. You use it like a shield to keep those who have hurt you from doing it again. But you also use it to punish yourself.”

  “To punish myself?” Lauren gasped.

  “We both know that it takes two to start a war,” Bahati said, taking Lauren’s hand. “You can’t be wholly innocent in all this. But you are too hard on yourself. You can’t forgive your own mistakes, much less your brother’s ... or your mother’s.”

  “You don’t know anything about my family,” Lauren snapped, hotly.

  “Maybe not,” Bahati said. “But I know you. Your anger is a fire that only you continue to feed.”

  Lauren chewed on that thought for a moment. Bahati knew her better than anyone, except Rowan. She always called her out when she had a stubborn streak, kind of like now. “You’re right,” she said. “You’re always right.”

  “Yes, I am,” Bahati said. “And the sooner you get it over with, the better.”

  “Yeah,” Lauren said, her anger abating. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “Fixing something that is broken is never easy,” Bahati said. “But if you ever want peace, you’re going to have to work for it.”

  * * *

  Lauren had just put Henry to bed. She brushed out her long hair, pausing when her phone rang. “I just sent you some documents I found at the History Center in Oklahoma City,” Eleanor said when Lauren answered. She had met the genealogist the day before. Eleanor had already been dispatched by the Network and it surprised Lauren to hear from her so soon. “I found some census records and other documents.”

  Lauren had her iPad open in front of her and quickly went looking for the email, opening it as soon as she found it. “Wait, my father’s name was listed as John Gray Wolf’s Son?”

  “Yes,” she said. “You didn’t know that?”

  “No,” Lauren said. “I’ve never heard that. I told you, I’m not close to my family, but I’ll ask George,” Lauren said. “He’s the one family member I trust more than anyone else.”

  “Didn’t you say you had six brothers?” Eleanor asked. “And there’s just one you trust?”

  “I know,” Lauren said. “It’s hard to explain the dynamics of our family. I can tell you, there’s nothing exciting or interesting about any of our history.”

  “Why not? You’re interesting. Why would your ancestors be any different?” Eleanor gushed.

  “I’m not all that interesting.” Lauren sat back in her chair.

  “Why would you say that?”

  Lauren shrugged. “I’m just a scientist, trying to make a living on a cable television show.”

  “Do you even hear yourself talk?” Lauren knew she liked the genealogist from the minute she’d met her. She was a real person, who called it like she saw it. She didn’t sugar-coat anything. “You have a PhD in Biological Anthropology. You have been to a hundred countries, and to almost every continent on the planet. You have won ... how many Emmys? Along with at least a dozen other awards. You are married to Rowan Pierce. He’s one of the hottest guys on television today, if you don’t mind me saying. I don’t think you got to be so interesting by sitting still, and I expect your ancestors won’t be much different. Every generation has a story to tell, you just have to be willing to sit and listen. Did you call your brother?”

  Lauren didn’t answer immediately. “I left a message earlier.” It wasn’t true. She told Bahati she’d called, but in truth she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  “Lauren!” Eleanor scolded. “Did you try calling back? Aren’t you planning to meet him in the next few days? He doesn’t even know you’re coming?”

  “It just means he has less time to warn my mother.”

  “Look, Lauren,” she said, softening her tone. “I’m not certain what else I can do here without more information. I want to help you, but if you won’t help me, I’m afraid you’re just wasting the Network’s money.”

  Lauren pursed her lips, her mind running at a whirring pace. Wasting the Network’s money was the least of her worries, but she did recognize the investment they were putting into her work. The least she could do was meet them halfway. “Fine.” She hung up the phone and stared at it for a long moment, before pulling up George’s contact information. Without thinking, she hit the button before she could chicken out.

  “Hello?” The deep voice immediately warmed her. He always made her feel safe and loved.

  “George, it’s Lauren. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “Lauren? Lauren who?”

  “Lauren Pierce, your sister.”

  “I’ve inhaled a lot of smoke over the years,” he said. “I think I remember having a sister. She never calls me though.”

  “I’m sorry, George,” Lauren said, recognizing her oldest brother’s gentle teasing. “Please don’t be mad.”

  “How long has it been?” She could hear him pouring liquid, she could easily assume it was coffee. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the spoon rattle on the rim as he stirred in sugar. If there was one thing she could count on in the universe, it was there would be a fresh pot of coffee at George’s at all hours of the day. She couldn’t remember seeing him drink much of anything else. As the local fire chief, he kept strange hours. All those long shifts fighting fires and assisting old ladies off the floor had to be fueled by Folger’s.

  “Too long.” She took a deep breath. “An error I’m calling to rectify.”

  “It’s good to hear from you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

  “Oh?” She paused.

  “Well you have been on the cover of TV Guide, National Geographic and just about every other travel magazine on the bookstands at the Barnes & Noble in Tulsa. They even got copies of Nat Geo at the Tribal Visitor’s Center in Tahlequah. I read your article on the Maya. You’ve become a good writer.”

  “Rowan wrote much of it.” She shrugged, being honest with him.

  “But you’re the one who figured out how to read the new calendar,” George said. “You’re becoming pretty good at languages, I hear.”

  Lauren lifted a shoulder. She didn’t want to be talking about herself right now. “I guess so.”

  “So what are you doing now?” he asked. She could hear the leg of his chair grate against the hardwood floor in his kitchen. They’d grown up in the same house he still lived in, and she knew that sound well. It resonated through the house. She had flashbacks of all the kids gathering around the table, her mom plopping down a pan of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese Dinner, a cigarette hanging from her mouth, the smell of gin on her breath. George had always been in charge of serving up the food. She would hand him her plate first, and he always gave her a decent share. By the time he served himself there was little left. “Lauren?”


  “Oh.” She came out of the memory. “The Network is hell-bent on doing an episode about our family history. Rowan and I are going to be in Oklahoma. I wanted to see if you could help me find out more about our ancestors. At least two or three generations back. Can you think of anyone in our line who might have been the least bit interesting?”

  “Besides you?” he asked. “And besides Michael?”

  “Definitely not me or Michael,” she clipped. “You don’t have to answer that now. We can talk about it when we stop by.”

  “How long will you be here?” he asked. “I’ve got room if you want to stay a while.”

  “Maybe just a day or two, but you have to promise me ... you can’t tell anyone I’m going to be there ... especially not our mother.”

  “I won’t tell her your coming, if that’s what you want, Lauren.”

  “Cross your heart and hope to die, George.” Lauren insisted, just as she had when she was little. “Promise me.”

  “I cross my heart,” he said.

  After a long moment of hesitation, she spoke. “I’ll text you the details as soon as I know everything.”

  “It’ll be good to see you,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Lauren found truth in her words. “Just don’t go to any trouble, okay? I don’t care if the house is clean or the leaves are raked, you know.”

  “I know,” he said. “Having you home is no trouble. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

  Lauren pursed her lips and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll text you.”

  “See you soon,” he said. “I love you.”

  Lauren’s heart lifted.

  “I love you, too.” She hung up quickly. She took a deep breath as she ran a hand down her face, then texted Eleanor back. Called my brother. Going to see him in Tahlequah.

  Good. Look over those documents I sent. She texted back a few moments later. There are a few other things I found in the newspaper and court records. Show him. Maybe he’ll have some answers to the questions I included.

  Lauren replied with a curt, OK.

  Let me know what else you find. Call if there’s anything I can help with.

  Thanks. Lauren typed back and laid her phone on the table beside her iPad. She wanted to panic. She hadn’t seen George but a handful of times since she left home for college. Their parting had been bittersweet. She’d left with a wave and a promise to see him soon ... but he was right, it had been too long.

  Rowan came in from the bedroom. He’d gone to run after dinner and had showered and put on his pajamas. She could smell his shampoo as he passed, and paused to peer into the travel crib the hotel had loaned them for the baby. He smiled then came over and sat down on the sofa beside her. She leaned against him; his hair still damp. He reached over and took up his iPad. “Let’s see when the first flight to Oklahoma City is.” He opened his favorite travel app.

  “Not Oklahoma City.” Lauren shook her head. “Tulsa. It’s closer to Tahlequah.”

  “Oh, right,” he said. “Silly me.”

  He surfed the web a few minutes. “It’d be a lot cheaper if you could teleport us.”

  She cast shade in his direction with her dark eyes. “Rowan...”

  “I’m just kidding.” He leaned against her. “But I won’t be happy ‘til you figure out what’s going on and can explain it to me.”

  “But what if I never figure it out?” She rested her head on his shoulder, snaking her hand around his bicep.

  “Knowing you, you’ll figure it out.”

  They sat in comfortable silence for a long while, a sense of peace building between them as he rested his head on hers and sighed deeply. He finally lifted his head and returned to his search for flights to Tulsa.

  “Before our wedding, when was the last time you saw your sister?” Lauren asked abruptly.

  He paused to think. “Just after I came back from Afghanistan,” he said. “She came home for my Dad’s 60th birthday. The VFW hosted a huge soiree in his honor.” Lauren sighed heavily, leaning against him. She said nothing. “Worried about seeing George?”

  She shook her head. “George, no. We’re good. He gave me a hard time when I talked to him and it occurred to me...” She hesitated. “If Michael had said the exact same words in the exact same tone, I’d have flown off the handle. But it didn’t bother me that much when George did it. Why is that?”

  “I don’t know,” Rowan said. “I only have one sibling. It’s never been an issue.”

  Lauren sighed again. “George always made my life easier. He always stuck up for me. He never dressed me down or gave me a hard time that I didn’t deserve. I always knew where I stood with him. With Michael though; he always tried to pick fights. He always tried to one up me in everything. I could never win with him.”

  “I can see why that would be a problem,” Rowan said, putting an arm around her, pulling her close to him. “Looks like there’s a flight out tomorrow at 10:09 ...” he said.

  “So soon?” Lauren furrowed her brow.

  “What else are we going to do on a Thursday?”

  “Sleep in? Take Henry to the zoo? See our friends? Get over jet lag? Raid the equipment locker at the Network? If you’re going to be doing the photography, we’ll need a couple of good cameras.”

  “Are you saying I’m a bad photographer?” He feigned being affronted.

  “No,” she said. “That wasn’t at all what I meant.”

  “Well, you do have a valid point,” Rowan said, updating his flight search. “Looks like there’s a flight out Saturday morning at 7:30. Maybe Henry will nap on the plane. I’ll book it and a rental car, and we can be to Tahlequah by supper time.”

  “Fine.” Lauren yawned. “I’m going to bed.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I get the tickets and rental car taken care of,” he said, kissing her head. “But you don’t have to wait up for me.”

  “I’m not sure I could if I wanted to.”

  * * *

  As they drove from the airport in Tulsa towards her childhood home in Eastern Oklahoma, Lauren’s mind lingered on those last fleeting moments of peace in the face of the turmoil ahead of her.

  “Did you talk to George?”

  “I texted him yesterday,” she said. “He said to call him when we got to Tahlequah and he’d meet us at his house.”

  “Is he not working today?”

  “One of the benefits of being the fire chief ...” Lauren shrugged. “He can take off whenever he wants, as long as there isn’t a fire to fight.”

  “That is convenient,” Rowan said. “Should we stop and pick up dinner?”

  “I think he’d be offended,” Lauren said. “He’s a good cook and he likes doing it.”

  “Will you want to visit with any of ... the rest of your family ... while we’re here?” Rowan asked, hesitation in his voice.

  “I sure don’t want to talk to my mother, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “And George knows this?”

  “He’s been sworn to secrecy. No one will even know I’m here.”

  “That’s good,” Rowan said.

  Rowan squinted as they turned into the sun. “I can’t see why I always thought Oklahoma was flat.”

  “Compared to the Rockies, it is,” she said. Sunlight dappled through the flaming red maples, yellow elms and orange oak trees that lined the two-lane state highway. “These are ancient mountains, older than the Rockies, but no, they’re not as flat as central and western Oklahoma. This area is known as the Cookson Hills.” Rowan continued driving along the edge of the Fort Gibson Lake, out past Tahlequah to her family’s land where her brother George still lived.

  “Did you know Pretty Boy Floyd grew up around here?”

  Rowan turned and looked at her sharply. “What?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The famous bank robber?”

  “Rumor has it, there are some of his treasures still hidden out there somewhere,” she said.
“Maybe farther south near Robber’s Cave.”

  “And we’ve never done an episode here why?”

  “Too close to home.” Lauren turned and looked away. “But there’s a lot of neat things in Eastern Oklahoma ... the Spiro Mounds, the Heavener Runestone ... skunk ape ...”

  “Bigfoot? In Oklahoma?”

  “Yeah.” Lauren nodded. “There’s a Bigfoot Festival every year down in Honobia.”

  “And we’ve never been?”

  “We’ve always been on the wrong side of the planet.” Lauren shrugged. “I can put it on our list of things to do, if we ever go back to monster hunting.”

  “Why wouldn’t we go back to monster hunting?” Rowan asked.

  Lauren didn’t answer. She stuck out her hand, gesturing to the break in the trees ahead. “That’s the turn.” Lauren directed him to take a right onto the narrow road between the stand of golden and orange tinged poplar trees.

  “How did you see that?”

  “There’s a reflector on that tree back there,” she said. “George put it there when I was learning to drive, so I could find it.”

  Rowan turned and ducked, as if that would allow the vehicle to clear the canopy of trees. “How long has it been since you were here?”

  “It was 1999,” Lauren said. “May 3, 1999.”

  “How do you remember that?”

  “It was the day the big F5 hit in Oklahoma City,” she said. “There were over 100 tornados spawned up from that storm, all across the state and into Arkansas and Missouri.”

  “Any of them get close?” Rowan asked as they rounded the narrow bend. His question was immediately answered. The trees across the valley were broken off at the tops, some were dead, and if it weren’t for the few that still bore leaves, you might have thought the twisters had just blown through a few years before ... not decades ago.

  “I’ve never been more scared in my life,” Lauren said. “Well, I have since then, but ...” Her voice trailed off as her eyes went to the horizon. They’d been scared plenty over the last year or two.

  “I always thought it’d be fun to go storm chasing,” Rowan said.

  “It’s all fun and games until the storm starts chasing you.” Lauren shivered, glancing over her shoulder at Henry. The baby yawned and stretched, just waking up from his nap as the car slowed.

 

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