by Laura Emmons
“Can I sit in my own chair?”
“This one time, I’ll allow it. Greg, get up…leave…now.” Greg was not particularly intelligent, but one look from Steve and he was smart enough to hand over the chair and skulk away.
I sat down gratefully in the vacated chair.
“Okay, now spill it.”
“It’s my Healer training. I’m having trouble getting the hang of healing hands and everyone has all these high expectations. I’m afraid I can’t live up to them, so I’m depressed. Can’t I be allowed to be upset?”
“Maybe you can, and maybe not. I know pressure. I know all about high expectations. What has Fiona said?”
“She said it would come to me eventually, but it hasn’t. Jenny had this dream where I meet these three Cherokee ghosts and they tell me what I need to do, but I haven’t seen them, so I’m just stuck.”
“Oh, you have to go on a vision quest. When are you going?”
“What’s a vision quest?”
“It’s when…wait a minute. Do you mean there’s something I know you don’t?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Wow…that feels good. Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll tell you how to get your healing mojo if you’ll do something for me.”
I was wary of what he might ask me to do. “What do you want?”
“Nothing too painful, just go to the Sweetheart Dance with me next Friday night, and I’ll tell you.”
“Oh, okay. I can do that.”
“And kiss me on the lips…”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“All right, here’s the thing. When Cherokee Warriors want advice from their ancestors, they go on a vision quest. They walk out to a place sacred to their family and they wait for a sign. They pray, fast, and meditate. Eventually, if they are worthy, the ancestors will visit, and give the Warriors advice.”
“Wow. I wonder if that would work,” I mused, “but I have no idea what place might be sacred to the Running Deer family.”
“Ooo oh, I know the answer to that, too! Now you have to kiss me.”
“Okay, deal…but no tongues in public.” His face fell. Then he brightened. “Deal...okay, here it is…your dad and uncle were the last living Running Deers. After he died, your dad’s family’s land passed on to your mother. You all were living in California and she didn’t want it so she signed it over to Fiona. My dad tried to get her to sell it to him because it borders the Cacapon River and has a nice flat meadow which can be developed. Fiona said no deal, there are some things in life more important than money and she liked the meadow as pasture land for her livestock. Dad was really pissed off at the time. Now that I think about it, Fiona might have been talking about an ancient Indian ceremonial site, ‘cause the Running Deer’s lived there for generations. You should ask her about it. Okay, kiss me.”
I laughed at him and puckered up.
***
Evan must have skipped all of sixth period to be standing right outside my Pre-Calc class when the bell rang. I saw his face and immediately fell into step with him, letting everyone else run past us so we could get a little privacy.
“So,” he started, “you’re kissing him in public now?”
“He did me a favor, I showed my appreciation. Get over it, it was just a kiss.”
“We had just a kiss,” he said in a small voice.
I looked up into his eyes. “We had eagle splat, Evan. It’s not the same. Besides, you’re still my best friend, and I know what I’m doing.” We’d reached the classroom door. I stopped and stared pointedly at him.
“I hope so…” he sounded so sad, my heart broke.
I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him right there, but I couldn’t, not at school. I did know what I was doing…probably. “Eagle splat, Evan…eagle splat.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Sweetheart Dance
“Oh, Hi Pat, How’re you doing?” I said as I walked into the kitchen after my afternoon practice with Jenny at the library.
Pat sat alone at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. He looked up when I entered the room. “Things are pretty good. How are you?”
“I’m doing better. I have an idea which might help me learn healing hands.”
“Oh really, what’s that?” Rose said as she walked into the room. She dried her hair with a towel.
“Hi Rose.”
She sat down next to Pat and looked up at me.
“I have to go on a vision quest.”
“You have to do what? Do you mean a vision quest like an Indian?”
“Yup, that’s the one. Steve said Fiona annexed the old Running Deer property to her farm. I have to find the place and go there.”
Pat nodded. “I know where it is.”
“Really, you do? Can you tell me?”
“I can do you one better. Let me get a map of the farm from my truck, and I’ll show you.”
“Cool.”
After he’d left the kitchen, I turned to Rose. “Aunt Rose, I need a favor.”
“What do you need, honey?”
“I need a new dress. Steve asked me to the Sweetheart Dance and I don’t own a semi-formal dress.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun. Well, after you take your driver’s test and get your provisional license you can take us shopping on Saturday.”
“Yay!”
Pat returned a moment later with the plot map and survey of the farm. He unrolled it onto the table. “Okay, take a look at this.”
I bent my head over the large paper.
“Fiona’s cabin is here.” He pointed to a location on the map. “The access road continues down the mountain here, ending at the Cacapon River.”
I nodded.
“Right before the paved road ends here, after the turnoff to Fiona’s driveway there’s another dirt road here. Follow it all the way. This mark on the map is where their house stands. Don’t go in there; it’s condemned now and not safe. The meadow and surrounding area belonged to them up until your grandma died. It’s your inheritance. I’m sure Fiona would let you visit anytime you wanted. Is Evan going to drive you?”
I hesitated.
Rose chucked him on the shoulder.
He looked at her, surprised.
“She’s dating Steve McCoy now.”
Pat frowned for a moment before saying, “Why?”
***
I admired myself in the full length mirror hanging on my closet door, and not for the first time, but I couldn’t help myself. It was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen. The top of the bodice was constructed to look like the petals of an iris flower. The laser-cut neckline followed the irregular shape of the petals as it scooped down to a point in the center. They hung randomly off the shoulders on the sleeveless dress. Underneath the petals, a lavender crisscross pleated bodice clung to my torso and made my boobs look much larger than they really were.
At the waist, three layers of chiffon spilled out in increasing width so the soft pleats ran down the length of the skirt. The color at the waistband was the same lavender as the under-bodice, but by the time the skirt ended right below my knees, the color gradually darkened until it became the same violet as the painted petals of the iris flower on top. Spinning around in front of the mirror let the skirt fan out around me. I’d paired it with sparkly nude panty hose and lavender pumps. Aunt Rose had braided my hair into a French braid held back by a sequined clip. She’d even helped me put on a little make-up. Fiona found a long, black wool boucle cape to wear over the dress so I wouldn’t be cold going to and from the building. I wore my moon necklace, an amethyst, moonstone and silver necklace with a waxing, crescent moon made out of filigree silver in the center. I found a tiny, sequined opera clutch with a long silver chain instead of a strap and my ensemble was complete.
***
The doorbell rang. Aunt Rose squealed and ran out of the room, clattering down the stairs. She seemed more excited than me. I picked up my clutch and followed her down at a much slower pace. Wi
th the heels, I had no choice really, than to take it slow.
She shouted as I reached the bottom step. “False alarm,” she called, “it’s just Kyle with the pizza.”
I waved to him as I entered the foyer.
“Wow,” he said, almost dropping the pizza. Rose caught it and handed it to Pat, who had just come in from the kitchen.
“Thanks, Kyle.”
“No problem. You…”
“It smells like pizza in here.” Steve had arrived, interrupting Kyle. He stood just behind the pizza guy, who still blocked the doorway. Kyle moved inside the house, unable to stop staring. That’s when Steve looked around him and saw me.
“Holy Shit!” he dropped the purple-blue corsage. No one bothered to catch it. It seemed like a good way to start the evening.
***
I’d never attended a school dance. Of course, I’d never been part of the popular clique until Steve had claimed me as his own. I worried continuously about my poor dancing skills, until I saw how bad everyone else moved. Then I relaxed and started to enjoy myself. At first, Steve just wanted to steer me around, introducing me to everyone and making sure we were seen and photographed by all, but after a while, he relented to the peer pressure and gave other boys permission to dance with me.
***
After about three songs, I realized he’d disappeared, so I went to visit the ladies’ room. When I got back he was still missing. I got myself a glass of punch and had barely taken a sip when he came up behind me. I heard him before I saw him, so I held the glass away from my dress, in case it spilled over when he grabbed me, because I knew in that instant, he intended to do exactly that. He was drunk, really, sloppy, stupid drunk.
“There she ’iz, my boofle flow-ow-er.”
I’d anticipated his grabbing me around the waist from behind. I didn’t expect him to pick me up and carry me out of the gymnasium like a sack of potatoes.
I curled my toes up so that my shoes wouldn’t fall off as I bounced up and down on his shoulder and waited for an opportunity to save myself. “Where are we going?” I dared to ask.
His response was barely understandable because he slurred his words, “F-fam-lee ‘n con-soo-mer sy-ence tray—ler.”
I translated in my head…family and consumer science trailer. Uh oh. I asked, “Why?” dreading the response I would get.
“Bedsss.”
Ugh. Mentally, I scrambled for a solution. He’d left the main building of the school and headed to a temporary structure out back. No one would hear me scream. If only I could get back on my feet I’d have a chance. All I really needed was balance and leverage.
Officer Dave and Officer Sophie taught the self-defense course in Santa Monica and at the beginning they always said the same thing. The goal of self-defense against an attacker is to flee, not to stand and fight. If you fight, you only do so until you are able to escape. My advanced training in the San Sau discipline of Tai Chi taught me additional moves and trained me to defend myself at lightning speed. I was prepared to use all of my training and natural Hunter athleticism to flee as soon as possible.
When he reached the trailer, he scared me further by ripping the locked door off its hinges with one hand. Opposite the door across the long, narrow trailer was the simulated bedroom. He headed straight for it. Once he reached his intended destination, he put me down, blocking my escape with his gargantuan presence. This would be my only chance, so I took it. Mentally, I ran through my Tai Chi forms, while outwardly, I engaged him in conversation.
Find my spinal alignment, my calm center, “Steve, are you really going to do this?”
Bend my knees with arms out in front to adopt ‘Opening the door’ form.
“…why not? We’ff been togeffer fer two weeekssss. It’sss time I’s got a sumptin’ sumptin”
Lean to the right, t-step with the left foot, lunge into bow and arrow step with the right leg, adjust back foot into 45 degree angle, adjust weight over right foot, bring feet together, lunge forward, raise arms into ‘brush knee and push’ form.
He bent down to kiss me, but I’d disappeared. “Hey, where’d you go?”
I kept moving. In Tai Chi, you never stop moving, but this time it wouldn’t be enough. He was too big and the aisle of the trailer too narrow. I needed to push him out of the way to escape.
Arms come up in defensive position in ‘Playing the guitar’ form. Quickly, assume ‘repulsing the monkey’ form, I made my first contact. Standing at a 90-degree angle so as to give him a smaller target, I ‘repulsed the monkey’ with a flat palm to his right rib cage.
He stumbled back. San Sau, or ‘Push Hands’ discipline in Tai Chi is not for the faint of heart. It worked. I’d managed to turn us around. Now my back faced the door and freedom, and his faced the bed.
Lift foot into empty stance, then step back, adjusting weight. I took four steps back.
He recovered and advanced, trying to grab me by the forearms.
T-step into bow step, turn waist and sway, take three steps to the side. Circle arms around in ‘Waving hands like clouds’ form.
He couldn’t find a grip while I circled my arms around.
Whenever possible, I took a step back, trying to get closer to the door. I tried talking to him again. “Doesn’t it matter to you that I don’t want to, Steve? Doesn’t it matter that I say no?”
“Why’ud you sssay no? Ev’ry girl ‘n thisss town’s hot for me. Why’n you?” He whipped around so he was facing me.
Dang, he was fast. I needed to slow him down. Re-center weight over hips, empty step to forward lunge. Brush both arms down to knee then bring arms up together into ‘Boxing both ears’ form.
Second contact…I struck him hard. A normal man would have been stunned. He shook it off. I took another step back toward safety. As I retracted my arms he snatched my left wrist. No, I couldn’t let him restrain me. If he got his arms around me it was all over, but he was fast…too fast. That’s when I understood.
“You’re part Hunter, aren’t you?”
“I’m a McFadden ons’m momsss ssside.”
Shit. I’d heard his acolytes’ crow about how good he was at avoiding sacks and running with the ball when necessary. His combination of Warrior and Hunter genes gave him the perfect physicality for a quarterback. The alcohol would make him slower, but his Hunter gifts would make him exponentially faster.
I would know. He only had one hand around my wrist, but accounting for his super strength, I used the self-defense method for escaping a two-handed wrist grab. I took my right hand and locked fingers with my left hand, twisting until the strongest part of my wrist bone rested against his thumb. With all my strength and speed I pulled up and out with both hands at the opening between thumb and fingers.
He yelped. His thumb was probably sprained.
I used my momentum to back up five more feet.
He continued to advance. “Why’re you hot fer ‘im ‘n not fer me?”
I didn’t have to ask who ‘him’ was, but considered my answer. He’d probably not remember any of this in the morning, so why not tell the truth? Maybe the element of surprise would afford me an advantage. “Because when he touches me sparks fly. I tingle. It’s like he’s electric.” At least we were out of the simulated bedroom and into the simulated kitchen. I moved closer to open space, where I could turn and flee. Being lighter and sober, I might be faster in an all-out sprint.
“I’ll kill you McCoy, you fucking asshole!”
Uh oh…damn Evan’s powers of premonition. He always knew when I was in trouble. He’d come to save me. Now I’d have to save us both.
“Look, it’s sparky, come to save yeh…” Steve seemed pleased to have another victim in his sights.
Ouch! What the…Blood seeped down my arm.
Steve brandished a steak knife which had been left on the counter.
Weapons changed the equation. Officer Dave had spent a lot of time discussing what to do when weapons were involved. If it was a gun, then quit. Do
whatever they told you to do and pray you lived through the ordeal. No one moved faster than a bullet, but if the weapon only moved as fast as the arm of the person wielding it, a whole other set of techniques could be used. I’d taken one Judo class. That knowledge plus Officer Dave’s training would help me now. The time had come to stand and fight.
Plus, I was pissed he’d ruined my pretty dress. That stain had better come out or I’d find a bigger, sharper knife of my own.
‘Stand like a tree’, empty step to raised knee and kick. I used the force of my flat foot to knock him off balance again. Step into forward lunge and advance. Turn to side, raise knee into gut, and reach down as opponent bends over to protect abdomen and grab, right hand under chin, left hand grab back of head by hair. Yank head back and push heel of hand under chin at the same time to raise opponent into falling backward position. Now for the Judo…roundhouse-kick to right side of head…he didn’t go down…leg sweep behind the calves…he went down hard, the knife flew out of his hand…bring foot down as hard as you can onto nose…I used the ball of my foot because I feared that if I used the pump’s spike heel I might kill him. I only needed to get away, so…crunch.
I backed up and turned to sprint. As I did, the blood splattered everywhere. No doubt his nose was broken. I ran the last eight feet fast. The knife had landed a mere arms-length away from Steve in the middle of the aisle. We needed to be long gone by the time Steve recovered. I grabbed Evan by the hand and dragged him with me out the door.
“Evan, run, come on, we’ve got to go…”
“No!” he snarled. He only thought of one thing, killing Steve.
“He’s gonna get up, I only stunned him. We’ve got to go now!” I grabbed his hand and pulled.
He shook it loose.
“No, Evan, he’s too strong. He’ll kill you. Evan, please…” My voice hitched in a sob and it got his attention, but too late.
Steve moved like a raging bull. He shoved the knife into Evan’s stomach and ran out the door. I heard him retching somewhere in the yard.
Oh my God, Oh my God, there’s so much blood…I didn’t know what to do. Evan’s knees buckled, and he fell. His hands held the knife, still sticking out of his middle.
