Blackbird: an Online Romance

by Fran Seen

  “Calm yourself,” Charlie warned her, stepping between us.

  “Calm myself? This fucking slut shows up at the casino, spending some of her white guilt on the slots, sucking down several sluttails before noon, and then has the audacity to ask me where to find you,” she yelled, tugging down the hem of her white tank top. “I should’ve known better than to point her in the right direction, but there I was, thinking there’s no way Charlie Blackbird would ever fuck an Anglo whore.”

  “What are these ‘sluttails’ you speak of?” I cringed at her words and wiped away the strings of her spit that had landed on my face.

  “The kind of cocktails girls like you drink,” Ossie snarled at me and turned to Charlie. “Tell her to leave.”

  Charlie didn’t say anything. He appeared absolutely bewildered, as though he’d dropped all the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle in the bottom of the dumpster and wasn’t sure if he should reach in and retrieve them or keep on walking.

  “Charlie,” Ossie lowered her voice, sucked in a deep breath, and rested her hands on her hips, angling her tan legs in a way that made them look a million miles long in the cut-off shorts she was wearing. She batted her eyelashes at him, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Tell this little girl to go the fuck home, and I’ll pretend like I didn’t see you visiting her room yesterday morning. And I won’t tell my grandmother I saw you entertaining the swine just now.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened, and I believed, for a moment, he might say goodbye to me then and there. “Tell her to leave,” Ossie hissed through clenched teeth in response to his non-action. “Tell her!” she open-hand smacked his chest, and after one strike, Charlie snatched her wrist.

  “No,” he growled, his scalding gaze furious enough to start a forest fire. “You’re acting like a child. You will calm yourself, so that we may speak as adults do.” He dropped her wrist and stepped back, leaning down to be eye-level with me. “I am sorry, ogin. Find it in your heart to forgive me. I would ask you to step inside, but I’m afraid your close proximity will only provoke her further,” he scowled and cut his eyes over to Ossie, who shook with anger but was finally silent. “Take Wayah and go to Elisi’s. I’ll come for you when we’re done here.” He gave me an assuring nod and squeezed my shoulder before I turned to leave.

  My mind reeled as I stood on Lily’s porch and knocked on the screen door. Only a few seconds passed before the door creaked open and Grandma poked her head out.

  “Same dress?” she greeted me, wiping her wet hands off on her blue jeans and eyeing my grass-stained knees. I blushed from head-to-toe and rubbed my forehead, hoping I’d wake up from this nightmare soon. “Don’t be embarrassed. I was young once, too. Come in before you ignite,” she said, skimming her gaze over my sunburned shoulders. I sat down in one of the barstools and propped my elbows on the counter, holding my head in my hands. Wayah licked my leg and collapsed on the cool wooden floor.

  “Who’s Ossie?” I already knew the answer, but I studied Grandma’s face as she placed a glass of icy lemonade in front of me. I mumbled my thanks and took a long swig, although the chilled drink did little to cool my nerves.

  “Oh no,” Grandma groaned, but didn’t elaborate, because Lily burst through the door with a basket filled to the brim with blueberries.

  “I think Charlie had the girl stay over last night,” Lily called over her shoulder while she untied the laces of her boots. “I saw them cut across the pasture this morning. I wonder if they—” Lily stopped mid-sentence as Wayah prodded her in the back of the leg, demanding to be acknowledged. Lily whipped around. Her mouth fell open when she saw me and Grandma sitting at the counter, tight-lipped and wide-eyed.

  “Dolly,” Lily shrieked, her coppery skin flushing deep red. She slapped a hand over her chest. “Forgive me. I didn’t see you there. I walked past Charlie’s house just a minute ago, and his truck was gone. I assumed you two had ventured into town.” Lily shoved the basket into my hands. “Here, have some blueberries.”

  “His truck was gone? Was the Chevy still there?”

  “No,” Lily looked between me and Grandma. “Who’s over there?”

  “Ossie,” I said flatly, pounding a juicy berry into my mouth and fixing my eyes on the floor. Lily’s groan matched Grandma’s response, but they both started rambling in Cherokee. I preoccupied my thoughts with possibilities of where Charlie and Ossie had driven.

  “He’s never brought her over here,” Lily reached around me and dove a hand into the berry basket. “But with what we know of her family, we wish Charlie would steer clear of her. They are the unofficial moochers of the Deer clan. Always looking for a handout. Never willing to put in the hard work. Constantly raising hell at the tribal meetings, but never putting in the effort to change.”

  “We warned Charlie, but the boy’s gotta hear the message ten times before it absorbs into that thick skull of his,” Grandma chimed in, refilling my lemonade glass and setting down a dish for Wayah, who lapped more water into the floor than her mouth.

  “So you know about their marriage arrangement?” I asked, and they both nodded and frowned. “And?”

  “And I support my son’s wishes,” Lily locked eyes with me and bit the inside of her cheek. She began scrubbing the counter with a soapy rag even though the surface was spotless. “He’s a smart boy—always acted in the best interests of all of us, staying out of trouble and working hard. Made his father proud,” she sighed, wringing out the rag over the sink. “But I think he made the wrong choice in striking a bargain with the Deer Clan. Ossie’s family is notorious ‘round these parts. You know, we all know each other. They like to drink and gamble their monthly check away. I bet they were frothing at the mouth when they saw my son coming. A good man? Solid job? Nice house?” She shook her head and cursed under her breath. “They will run Charlie dry before he turns thirty.”

  I choked back the tears that threatened my vision. My heart swelled for Charlie, at the thought of him giving all of himself to someone, only to be taken advantage of—all for the continuation of a bloodline.

  “Do both of you want him to marry a Native girl?” I asked with hesitance. I knew I was treading on thin ice with this subject, and I didn’t wish to insult them. I understood the importance of blood quantum and cultural continuation, solely from the explanation Charlie provided, but that didn’t mean I agreed with the message. Rubbing my sweaty palms on the fabric of my dress, I braced myself for an answer.

  “Do I want our culture to be forgotten? Our traditions? Our beliefs? No,” Grandma spoke up, knotting her gray brow. “None of that has a damn thing to do with blood, though. What runs through our veins has little to do with the spirit that lives within. Those who want to remember our story, do. The rest will forget, regardless of if they’re 1/64th Cherokee or full-blooded.”

  “I married for love, dear,” Lily cleared her throat as her eyes turned glassy. “I loved my husband from the moment I met him until he fought for his last breath. And I love him still, even though he’s gone. What we had—it was special, built from mutual respect, trust, and affection. I wouldn’t wish for anything less for any of my children.”

  “Where have you been?” Lily interrogated Charlie before I had a chance to, as he strode through the doorway. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes had deepened, and he’d gone a bit pale. He moved past Lily to find me, propped on the couch between Grandma, Flynn, and a bowl of popcorn. The Blackbirds fed me an incredible dinner of crispy pork chops, fresh corn on the cob, and green beans, and after Lissa left to hang out with her friends, we’d moved into the living room and planted ourselves in front of the television.

  I attempted not to appear too affected by his sudden disappearance, even though I’d been worrying about him since the moment Ossie got out of her car. “Are you ready to go home, ogin?” Charlie knelt down on his knee and leaned forward to brush his lips against mine. I tensed at the sudden public display of affection.

  Didn’t this man have a bride-to-be? And apparent
ly everyone knew about her, too.

  I felt his family’s eyes on us as the room fell to complete silence. “Where have you been?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it came out rough and detached.

  “Well, I checked you out of your hotel room and drove your car home. Picked up Falcon on the way and got him to follow me back my truck.”

  “Pardon?” I tried to stand, but he placed his hands on my knees.

  “You had a bunch of stuff. Took forever to fold all of your clothes and fit them in that tiny duffle bag, but I checked you out of the hotel room so you wouldn’t have to go back and deal with Ossie,” Charlie shrunk under my alarmed expression, and a look of self-doubt crossed his face. “I’m sorry,” he stared down at my bare kneecaps. “I was impulsive and should’ve asked, but it seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “Good God, boy. Just tell us what happened with Ossie and save the apologies for later,” Grandma asked the question burning on all of our lips.

  “Our arrangement is void. I got a thorough, verbal lashing from her, and later, when her grandmother called me, she promised to soil my reputation, so the tribal council will never consider me,” Charlie’s voice trailed off. He was clearly affected.

  “They are blowing smoke,” Lily assured him, waving off their empty threat. “Dolly has saved you from that certain hell.”

  “Jeopardy is on,” Grandma shushed us, picking up the remote. “Sit down and shut up.”

  “You could move your stuff into my closet,” Charlie said, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

  “And do what? Live with you?” I scoffed as Charlie slammed his front door behind us. “You can’t be serious.”

  “But I am.”

  “Charlie—your former, future baby-mama just called me a prostitute in your front yard less than four hours ago,” I sputtered, not meaning to raise my voice, but it echoed through the dark house. “You can’t possibly expect me to brush that off within the same day and decide to pick up my life and move in with you.”

  “What is your plan, then?” Charlie was yelling now. “You barged into my life, turning it upside down—and now what? Are you just going to drive back to a life of doing exactly what you’re told? Because that’s the easy choice? That’s the choice with the least casualties and hurt feelings and effort. The expectations are clear—no guesswork. That’s what you like, right, Dolly?”

  “And what if the easy choice is what I want?”

  “Then you’re lying to yourself. What you want isn’t always what you need,” he reduced his voice to a gentle whisper. “If law school is what you want to pursue, then do it. If you want to stay with me, do it. You could do both. I’m not making you choose.”

  “I need time,” I breathed, looking into his hopeful eyes. “I didn’t come here expecting to start a life with you. I didn’t plan any of this,” I threw my hands up in the air. “You weren’t even interested in me three days ago. Six years of friendship, and you didn’t want to meet me. My gene pool isn’t ideal, remember?”

  Charlie’s jaw hardened, but he didn’t respond. The tin roof clinked with the pitter patter of a summer shower, and thunder sounded in the distance, rattling the windows with each boom.

  “I can’t believe I’m even saying this,” I stood, growing increasingly tortured by the moment. I wanted to reach out and wrap my arms around him and hold on until hell froze over. I wanted to make love and get married and have babies and grow old with him, but I wasn’t convinced that was what he wanted. Overtaken in the heat of the moment, I feared Charlie had compromised his happy ending for momentary pleasure. I’d thrown a wrench into his life plans, and the guilt weighed on me. “You should’ve told me to go instead of Ossie. At least she can give you your precious full-blood Cherokee babies who were at the top of your list of priorities less than thirty-six hours ago.”

  “When I wanted all of those things,” he stammered, closing the space between us. “I hadn’t met you yet.”

  Charlie might be amused with me for a while, maybe for months or even years, but the day would arrive when Charlie’s mind would wander back to what could’ve been if I hadn’t intervened.

  I grabbed my keys off the kitchen table and bolted out the door, dead-set on piling into the Jetta, driving back to Chattanooga, and forgetting about the most wonderful person I’d ever met. Precipitation beaded off my forehead as I tugged on the driver’s side door after plunging my keys into the lock. I struggled for several moments, trying to focus on shimmying the lock through my muddled vision. The details of Charlie’s cabin and my car and my keys rattling in my shaky hands oozed and smudged together, and soon I realized it wasn’t the rain causing my kaleidoscope vision. It was tears. I smacked the door with my fist hoping the rain would wash me away with the topsoil and dump me out into the nearby creek, so I could float away from all of my uncertainty and frustration.

  “Those are my keys,” I saw Charlie approach in the window’s reflection. He held out my keys in his palm. His face twisted with a million words he wished to relay if I was brave enough to turn around and receive them.

  “The universe isn’t giving up on us without a fight,” his voice strained and lightning lit up the night sky. “You were dropped into my life twice. Once, on my computer screen. The second time, the universe delivered you to my feet. Now, as you try to run away, the sky is saying no, throwing up every possible deterrent,” he gripped my elbow and spun me around, but I didn’t meet his eyes. I couldn’t look at him, otherwise I might change my mind and subject him to a life he didn’t even want. “I’m a fool, but I’m no village idiot. My heart and the world around us are echoing the same sentiment,” he pulled me to his chest as he spoke into my wet hair. “Our spirits are connected.”

  “It’s not enough,” I sniffled, wiping rain and tears from my eyes, breathing in his scent one last time.

  “It’s enough for me. The possibility of a future together—I’ve never wanted anything so badly.”

  Even though Charlie whispered assurances in my ear, my own insecurity shouted, muting any other noise.

  “Dolly,” Charlie said my name like a prayer, but I was too far gone to answer it. I switched the keys in our hands, unlocked the door, and slumped behind the wheel without mumbling goodbye. I watched Charlie grow small in my rearview mirror and out of the corner of my eye, I caught my own reflection. Red-lipped, pale-faced, and saturated to the bone.

  I’d never felt so lost.

  The Glasshouse

  Three Months Later

  “Drummond & Drummond, how may I help you?” I answered the phone, peeking out at the sunny day through the drawn blinds. My summer consisted of answering and directing calls at Dad’s firm, filing paperwork at the courthouse, fetching greasy Chinese food for Minnie and Dad’s working lunches, and scribbling notes during mediation.

  Personal injury, workers’ compensation, and medical malpractice cases were dreadfully dull, and even with a substantial settlement, they left a sour taste in the plaintiffs’ mouths. When the person filing the lawsuit had been wronged or mistreated or injured, money was their bandaid, and sometimes, money wasn’t enough to stop a wound from bleeding. But oh boy, those cases were the cash cow of my dad’s business.

  After sitting through numerous trials, I was undecided if there was a winner in any worker’s compensation verdict. One of our clients, Jim Rafferty, a heavy equipment operator five years away from retirement, had been injured by a hydraulic excavator last year, and instead of receiving compensation from the company he’d worked for since high school, they fired him without severance or even a hint of accountability for neglecting their equipment maintenance.

  Jim’s legs were crushed in the accident. A few weeks ago, his wife told Minnie that Jim refused to leave the house. He’d sit on the front porch and watch the cars pass by, withdrawing more and more each day from his family. Even after a two million dollar settlement, Jim couldn’t manage a smile. His identity was wrapped up in his occupation. He and his wife li
ved in a double-wide trailer, where he served as the proud, sole-provider. In a single accident, Jim lost his income and his purpose. A week after cashing the check and bulking up on his life insurance, Jim placed a revolver in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

  I’d just intercepted a call from Mrs. Rafferty relaying the horrible news of Jim’s suicide. I buzzed Dad on speakerphone and told him, then proceeded to hide in the conference room for an hour.

  I lowered myself into the plush leather of the mahogany swivel chair and pulled my phone from my pocket.

  Two missed calls.

  Charlie and I had stayed in contact since my departure. After a week of not speaking, he’d called me saying he couldn’t stop thinking about me, and told me if I said we were over, he’d leave me alone.

  I couldn’t say we were over.

  Rather, I told him I needed time. The reality was, as I distanced myself from him, I realized our lives were like oil and water. I felt it was possible to combine them, no matter how much I wished we could.

  Guilt weighed on me, too. I’d stomped on Charlie’s hopes and dreams when I recklessly stormed into his life. I hadn’t meant to, but I crossed our preset boundaries and unhinged the delicate balance of our lives. I was selfish, and I knew it. I burned with want. Each night, I closed my eyes, trying to remember the lines of his face, the way he smelled, the melody of his deep voice, and the way his hands felt on my bare skin. I’d never experienced a person quite as earth-shattering as Charlie Blackbird. The unknown terrified me. I was safe in my own bed, and no one could hurt me. But when I stepped outside, venturing over to the Qualla Boundary? All bets were off.

  There was something about the way he gave me space that unnerved me. The distance between us was torture, but Charlie was being gracious and thoughtful and patient. I was angry with myself for not possessing those qualities.