Rider on Fire

by Sharon Sala

  “You mean, you don’t know what the sculpture is going to be before you begin?” Sonora asked.

  Franklin smiled. It was something people often asked him once they found out his process.

  “How can I know until I remove the excess wood?”

  Sonora’s eyes widened with amazement. “The excess?”

  “Yes, you know—the part that doesn’t belong.”

  “That’s just amazing,” she said.

  Franklin shrugged. “It’s not so much. It’s just the way it works.”

  A timer went off.

  “I’ll get it,” Adam said.

  “It’s the cornbread,” Sonora said, and pointed to a platter on the counter. “After you cut it, would you put it on that plate?”

  Already absorbed in his task, he nodded absently.

  Sonora caught herself staring, and when she finally came to herself and turned around, her father was grinning at her.

  “Don’t say a word,” she warned him.

  Franklin could tell she was interested in Adam. He just didn’t know how much.

  It was all Sonora could do to sit down at the table with Adam and get past the memory of his naked body enough to pass him the fried potatoes.

  Adam knew she was bothered. It served her right. Yes, he’d kissed her first, but it hadn’t been the toe curling, mind-blowing lip lock that she’d laid on him. She was dangerous to mess around with.

  Still, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. There was tension in her shoulders and her back was too straight. She was bothered all right. He smiled as he passed her the bowl of potatoes.

  “Want some?” he asked.

  Her eyes narrowed. He wasn’t asking about potatoes and they both knew it. She snatched the bowl from him and spooned a large helping onto her plate, then passed it to her father.

  Adam managed to pretend disinterest as the meal progressed, but the truth was, he could have used another cold dip in the pond.

  It wasn’t until they were doing the dishes that Franklin decided to stir the pot simmering between his daughter and friend.

  “Hey, Adam, isn’t there a pow-wow coming up in a couple of weeks at the camp grounds?”

  Adam was drying the last plate and answered before he thought. “Yes.”

  “You gonna go?” Franklin asked.

  “What’s a pow-wow?” Sonora asked.

  “Kind of like a family reunion. There will be food and both men and women’s dancing.”

  Sonora frowned. “What do you mean … men and women’s. Don’t they dance together?”

  “No.”

  “Isn’t that sort of anti-social?”

  “Not when you see it,” Franklin said.

  “Then show me,” she said.

  Franklin sighed. “I’m sorry, Sonora. I would like to, but I’m afraid I will have to wait and see how I feel when the time comes.”

  “I could take her,” Adam said.

  Franklin pretended to think about it, when in fact, it was his plan all along.

  “Yes, that might be best,” he said. “If I feel well, I can come with you, but if I don’t, then you two can go on alone. Would you like to do that, Daughter?”

  Sonora wanted to know this side of her heritage, but she wasn’t sure she’d learn a damn thing with Adam Two Eagles except how much restraint she had left. Still, she wasn’t about to let either one of them know how much she wanted to be with Adam.

  “Sure. Why not?” she said, then added, “But I hope you can come, too.”

  “As do I,” Franklin said. “It would give me great pleasure to introduce you to some of our clan.”

  “Clan? You mean the Kiowa?”

  “The People are Kiowa, but we are of different clans. We belong to the Snake Clan, as does Adam and his family.”

  Sonora felt the blood draining from her face and thought she would pass out. There was a roaring in her ears and her legs suddenly went weak.

  “Oh God … oh God,” she whispered, and staggered backward. Adam caught her, steadying her until she could sit down in a chair.

  “Sonora? What’s wrong? Are you ill?” Franklin asked.

  Adam knelt down in front of her, then looked up into her face. “Sonora? Sonora?”

  She saw Adam’s lips moving, but she couldn’t hear anything but the thunder of her own heartbeat.

  Franklin pulled up a chair and sat down beside her as Adam bolted from the room.

  “Daughter … what did I say? If I offended you, it was unintentional.”

  Adam came back with a wet washcloth and pressed it to Sonora’s forehead.

  “Here, honey, see if this helps,” he said.

  She grabbed it with both hands, and then swiped it across her face.

  “This just keeps getting crazier and crazier,” she muttered. “Half the time I feel like the luckiest woman in the world, and the other half of the time, like I’ve fallen into the Twilight Zone.”

  She handed the washcloth to Adam, and then stood abruptly.

  “You said you belong to the Snake clan?”

  Both men nodded.

  “What does that mean?”

  Franklin frowned, then looked to Adam for support.

  “Think of it like this,” Adam said. “You are an American, from the state of Arizona, right?”

  “Right.”

  “So, then transpose that same identification process to your ethnicity. You are Kiowa, from the Snake Clan.”

  “So, what does the snake mean to people from the same clan?”

  “It’s like our totem … what the white man might consider a mascot. But we believe it is like a conduit between us and the spirit world. That’s a little simplistic, and it means much more, but it’s the best way that I can describe it.”

  “I see,” she said, and began rubbing her hands together nervously. “This is so weird,” she kept saying.

  “What is it that is weird to you?” Franklin asked.

  She shrugged and tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a sob.

  “Wait until you see this,” she said, and stood up, then turned her back on the men.

  Before they knew what was happening, she’d pulled her T-shirt over her head, revealing the tattoo of an elongated snake that traced the length of her spine. The snake’s tail was somewhere below the waistband of her jeans, while the head marked the bottom of her shoulder blades and was twisted toward the viewer with fangs showing and the forked tongue extended. It was so perfectly depicted that neither man would have been surprised if it had suddenly hissed and struck.

  Franklin’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  Adam inhaled sharply.

  “This is strong medicine,” he said softly.

  “Daughter, how long has this been on your body?”

  “Since I was sixteen,” she said.

  “Your parents let you do this?” Adam asked.

  “I didn’t have parents, remember. At sixteen, I’d just run away from my third foster home in the same year. I think I was on the streets in San Francisco when I had it done,” she said, and pulled her shirt back down before she turned around. “Cost me a whole week’s worth of tips, too.”

  Franklin stifled a moan. There were times when the plight of her childhood took his breath away.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said softly.

  She frowned. “About the tattoo?”

  “No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Franklin said. “When I hear you speaking of your growing up years, it always saddens me. You should have been with family, learning the ways of The People and growing up knowing you were always safe and always loved.”

  Adam was momentarily stunned to silence. That this woman, who knew nothing of her heritage, should choose such a mark for her body made her powerful. He suspected the Old Ones had always known where she was and were just waiting for the right time to show her the way home.

  “Sonora.”

  She hesitated, then shifted her gaze from her father to Adam. “What?”

  “Why t
he snake?”

  “You mean, as opposed to any other tattoo I might have chosen?”

  He nodded.

  “The reason just sounds silly,” she said.

  “Try me,” he asked.

  “Have you ever been in a tattoo parlor?”

  He nodded.

  “So … you know how they have all these photos and drawings of different tattoos? Well, I was with a couple of friends. We’d been in there for a good hour, looking at photos and daring each other to go first, but no one could decide on what they wanted. I was flipping through this book of drawings and when I got to the page that had this snake on it, I felt like I was going to pass out. The room started spinning around me and I began hearing a rattle in my head … like the kind a rattlesnake makes.”

  The skin crawled on the back of Adam’s neck. The Old Ones had been with her all along and she’d never recognized the signs.

  “The tattoo on your back … it’s a rattlesnake?” Adam asked.

  “Yes. You can’t see the rattles unless I’m—”

  “Naked,” he said, and felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

  She nodded, then glanced at her father.

  His face was expressionless. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but it surely had nothing to do with the tattoo. She’d had the tattoo for so long that she often forgot it was there. Slightly embarrassed, she pulled her shirt back over her head moments before Franklin laid his hand on the top of her head.

  “You are blessed among women,” he said softly.

  She was uncomfortable with what she considered Indian voodoo and tried to make light of it.

  “Couldn’t prove it by me,” she said. “My life has been anything but blessed and pure.”

  “Not in that way,” Adam said. “The snake has power not often given to a woman.”

  “I don’t get it,” she said. “I wasn’t born with this. It’s not a birthmark. It’s a tattoo I picked out of a book, compliments of a man named Stumpy.”

  “You didn’t pick it. It chose you,” Adam said.

  “I don’t—”

  “You said you heard it rattle?”

  “Yes, but Stumpy was smoking weed. We were all probably suffering the effects of his secondhand smoke.”

  Adam stifled a frown. “Believe what you must.”

  “Yeah, okay … whatever,” she said, a little embarrassed by the seriousness of the conversation.

  Franklin kissed the side of her cheek and gave her a quick hug.

  “If you don’t mind being left on your own again, I think I will go work on my little bird for a while. He’s anxious to be free.”

  “And I need to go check on Linda Billy’s little girl,” Adam said.

  “I hope she hasn’t been ill. She’s a sweet child,” Franklin said.

  “Not exactly ill,” Adam said. “She overheard her grandmothers talking about someone dying in their sleep. By the time Johnny called me, she’d been awake almost three days.”

  “Poor baby,” Sonora said.

  Adam eyed her curiously. “So, Sonora, what are you going to do this afternoon?”

  “It’s too hot to be outside,” Sonora said. “I’m thinking about a nap under the air conditioner in my room.”

  “Come with me,” he said.

  “Uh …”

  “It’s not far. I’ll have you back in a couple of hours.”

  Sonora glanced at her father. “Dad?”

  He smiled. “You’ll like them.”

  She still wasn’t convinced. “So … what are you going to do there?” she asked.

  Adam grinned. “Well, I won’t be killing any chickens and slinging the blood about the house or praying to the sun gods today, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Franklin snorted softly, then grinned.

  She glared. “You’re making fun of me.”

  Adam jammed his hands in his pockets and grinned. Payback was fine. “Yeah, I am,” he drawled.

  “Fine! Laugh your head off while I go change my clothes. I smell like fish.”

  “Okay, but don’t dress up,” Adam warned. “The Billy family is a fine family, but somewhat distressed when it comes to money.”

  “Well, damn, and I had my heart set on wearing the Versace,” she snapped, as she strode out of the room.

  Adam figured he’d aggravated the situation even more by telling her what to do. The last thing he heard her say was something about “… making me nuts.”

  He frowned, then let go of regret. He had all afternoon to get her in a good mood.

  “I’m going to the studio while I have the energy to work,” Franklin said. “It was good to see you. Come back soon.”

  Adam grinned. “You know I will.”

  Franklin turned to leave, then paused. “I wish you well,” he said softly.

  Adam stilled. “Thank you. You honor me with your trust.”

  Franklin nodded.

  “She doesn’t need my permission to do anything, but I ask only that you don’t hurt her. She’s been hurt far too many times already.”

  “I would sooner hurt myself,” Adam promised.

  “Then it is done,” Franklin said, and walked away, leaving Adam on his own.

  He didn’t quite know how he felt, but he knew he was more than attracted to Sonora. She did things to him—made him feel things that he’d never felt for another woman.

  And there was that tattoo. It had to be more than coincidence that a lost child of the Kiowa would choose the sign of her clan purely by accident. Adam was certain that there was more at work here than either he or Franklin first believed, and he didn’t know where he fit in at all. What he did know was that he didn’t want to lose the tenuous connection that they had.

  “Is this all right?” Sonora said.

  Adam turned around, surprised that she had changed clothes so quickly. She was wearing a pair of clean, but well-worn jeans with a denim shirt hanging loose against her hips. It was sleeveless and nearly white from countless washings, but both the jeans and the shirt were clean and crisp. She’d brushed the tangles out of her hair and left it hanging. It swung against her neck as she walked, teasing Adam with its silky sheen.

  “Where’s Dad?” she asked.

  “In the studio.”

  “Wait. I need to talk to him.” She dashed from the room before Adam could answer.

  Franklin was already bent over the work table when Sonora hurried inside.

  “Dad … I need a favor.”

  He smiled as he looked up. “After that fine fish dinner … you have but to ask.”

  “This little girl that we’re going to see. How old is she?”

  “Not sure … four or five … maybe six. Why?”

  “I would like to take her a gift, but I don’t have anything. What would you suggest?”

  He looked up, quickly scanning the pieces of the shelves of his studio as he moved toward them.

  “How about this?” he asked, and lifted a small carving from the end of a shelf, then put it in the palm of her hand.

  “Oh, Dad … it’s perfect. Do you mind?”

  He shook his head as he smiled. “Mind? It is my joy to be able to share my work with you.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “Thank you again,” she said, then added, “Don’t work too long.”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years. I can do it for a while longer, I think.”

  Sonora frowned as she watched him return to his work table. What he’d said was an unwanted reminder of the limits with which he was living.

  “We’ll be back soon,” she said.

  “Take your time,” he said, already immersed in his work.

  Sonora dropped the carving into her shirt pocket and then ran back into the living room.

  “Okay, I’m back,” she said. “Are you ready?”

  “Oh yeah. I stay ready,” Adam answered.

  Words stuck in
the back of her throat as her mind went right to the memory of him brown and bare as the day he was born. Despite the knot in her belly, she straightened her shoulders and tossed her hair.

  “Shut up, Two Eagles, and just so you know … I’m a black belt in Karate.”

  “Well now … isn’t that interesting? I had no idea that we have so much in common.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “I’m a black belt, too.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Weren’t we going somewhere?”

  He opened the door and then stepped aside.

  “After you, Ms. Jordan.”

  * * *

  The ride to the Billy home started out awkwardly, but it wasn’t long before Adam had Sonora laughing about an incident from his childhood.

  “I can’t believe you and your cousin thought up such an intricate revenge.”

  He laughed as they sped down the road, leaving a cloud of dust behind them to settle on the trees and bushes along the way.

  “We were ten. What can I say? Kenny was like a brother to me, and Douglas Winston told all the kids at school that Kenny still wet the bed. We just figured to give him a dose of his own medicine.”

  “Yes, but how did you get the plastic tube under him while he was sitting at the desk?”

  “Douglas had a habit of breaking the lead in his pencils, so he was always having to get up to sharpen it. Kenny sat right behind him and I was on Kenny’s right with the aisle between us. We waited until Douglas got up to sharpen his pencil. When he was on the way back, we pretended to be working, and as soon as he turned around and began sitting down, Kenny slipped the tube directly under him. It was so small and pliable that he never felt it. As soon as he began writing again, I handed Kenny the water bottle. He poked the tube in the place where the straw would go, then squeezed. Water went up and through that tube as slick as butter.”

  “Didn’t the other kids see you?”

  “Yeah, but Douglas was something of a bully, so they figured he had it coming.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “The bell rang. Kenny yanked the tube out from under him as he leaned over to get his backpack out from under the seat. I stuffed the water bottle in my backpack while Kenny stuffed the tubing in his, and we ran like hell out of the classroom.”

  “What about Douglas?”

  “Well, it looked like he’d peed his pants and then sat in it. We were halfway up the hall when we heard him squall. He bellowed and bawled and then refused to come out of the room. The principal had to call his Mama, who had to take off work to bring him some dry underwear and pants. She was so mad. He begged to go home, but she made him change his clothes and stay.”