Fractured Fairy Tales: A SaSS Anthology

by Amy Marie

  My family line is a mix of different races and cultures, but I have learned that many generations ago, my ancestors were very involved with the natives. My family descends as far back as the days of Columbus.

  My family, unfortunately, had taken the Indians as both slaves and sexual servants to please the men.

  Back in the olden days, as I am told, sex was only meant for procreation.

  I can’t imagine living in a time when sex with the one you love wasn’t for pleasure.

  And apparently, the men of my ancestry, although they wanted their people to believe so, didn’t either.

  Alas, they didn’t have sex with their wives; they procured sexual slaves from the natives of the land in exchange for riches. I don’t believe that I’m sure they raped those women and then claimed differently.

  That’s where my ancestors were such fools.

  There is a story I have read about my great-great-great-grandfather. It was said he had a sexual slave and he had impregnated her with his child. And though she claimed she freely had intercourse with him, it was never believed to be the truth by our ancestors. This set off much discord not only with my ancestors, but with the tribe of the land they were occupying at the time.

  Prior to giving birth to the bastard child, the woman was restricted to her quarters within her tribe. However, after she gave birth to the child, she was given a choice. She could live with the man and his wife and help raise the child as its au pair, or she could abandon the child to the man and woman to raise solely on their own. She would never be known to the child as it’s mother and never be able to stake claim or make any decisions for him.

  She decided not to dishonor her family and gave the child to my great-great-great-grandmother to be solely raised by her. When it was revealed what my great-great-great-grandfather had done, he was prosecuted by his people and sent back to England to live in exile without his family.

  Even though my great-great-grandfather didn’t resemble the rest of her brood, my great-great-great-grandmother raised him—albeit reluctantly—just the same. His hair and skin were much darker than her and my great-great-great-grandfather’s children, but no one was ever the wiser of the disgrace her husband brought to the family.

  My heritage was hidden for many centuries because it was never allowed to be discussed. Ever since I discovered the truths of our pasts, I’ve been trying to learn more about this side of my heritage.

  I wonder, no hope, that one day, I’ll be able to connect with the lovely spirit that haunts or graces me daily and to become educated with the ways of the natives. Until that time, I’ll continue to try to do right by them as much as I can.

  It’s human nature to be kind, after all. Being mean or evil isn’t something you are born with, it’s learned. My parents always believed in love and kindness and they taught us the same.

  I’m sure if any of us children had acted any other way than being nice to others, we would’ve had our asses handed to us.

  It’s those values they instilled in us that led me to believe we were doing wrong when we were in the area of that big tree.

  As I’m sitting here pondering all that I’ve learned, I see a flash in the tree line.

  It’s that woman again.

  Only, this time, she’s not disappearing. She’s just standing there, watching me as I’m watching her, staring and wondering if my mind conjured her up once again or if maybe I was wrong and she’s real.

  If she is real, and has been all this time, I’m going to be left feeling like a fool. I definitely would have approached her before today, if I had known she wasn’t an apparition.

  “Hello,” I call out as I wave in her direction. I have to find out if she is really a spirit or if she is of flesh and blood like myself.

  “Hi,” she responds in kind. My body reacts immediately to her voice, knowing that I haven’t been imagining her all this time. I’m more drawn to her presence than I was before. If she were a spirit, I’m sure I would’ve never received an answer, and I’m elated to know that she’s real.

  “I’m Smith,” I tell her. For some reason, I have a strong need to introduce myself to her.

  “I’m Johnnie,” she replies.

  Now, I know for sure I haven’t been imagining her all this time.

  “Do you live here?” I ask, not wanting to look like a fool, though I note there are no homes anywhere around.

  I have a need to know why she is here on this abandoned land, all alone.

  “I live over there, on the reservation,” she informs me. “This land over here belongs to my tribe. I’m here to make sure your people don’t cross over our boundaries. Though I wish you weren’t where you are right now and tearing into our beautiful habitat the way you are.”

  That explains a lot. I knew there was a reservation close by. However, I didn’t know people actually still lived there.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” is all I can respond. I don’t know why we are here either. There are so many areas already built around this place that could use some sprucing up instead of tearing more into the authentic nature of the land.

  “Why are you here tearing down the land?” she asks as if reading my thoughts.

  “I’ve been hired to level this land,” I respond, not thinking of anything else to tell her.

  “Why do people constantly want to tear down the little land we have left?” she asks, an innocence reflecting in her voice I haven’t heard in a long time. “Why can’t they leave the land be? Every time you cut down a tree or excavate the land, you are causing damage to nature. Don’t you know how much we need the trees? This land was never yours to do with as you please, but your government keeps stealing it from us. Soon, we will have nothing left and nature and the elements will take out all that has been built and destroy it to make it all new again. Is that what you want? Are you willing to sacrifice life as you know it to build another building, shopping mall, parking garage? Because I know that I’m not. I will do whatever it takes to stop this. I went to school to learn how to fight all this change and make this land ours again. You will see.”

  I just sit there, slack-jawed while she continued, each of her words striking a chord inside me.

  I mean, it’s not like I never felt the same way, but for her to state it out loud to me, it brings me more to reason that this is not something I should be doing the rest of my life. I’m starting to feel that my destiny lies elsewhere, that I should be doing more to help the environment, not trying to destroy it.

  I look at this amazing woman before me, in wonder and in awe of not only her outer beauty but for the beauty she holds inside.

  Chapter 5

  Johnnie

  Why he’s looking at me like I have more than one head on my shoulders is a mystery.

  I’m only speaking the truth to him. A truth many people not only do not want to hear but have no will to believe.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. “You seem lost or confused.”

  I need to get him talking and not just staring through me the way he is.

  “Yes,” he answers, quite shortly.

  “I’m sorry if I offended you,” I say honestly. Just because we have certain beliefs, I do realize that others don’t understand it and could become offended by it.

  “No, no, don’t apologize,” he answers quickly. “It’s not you. It’s just that you’ve repeated something I’ve felt in my heart for a long time that I never knew how to express out loud.”

  That brings a slight shock to my system.

  “You’re beautiful,” he blurts out. The shock on his face at his statement tells me he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

  “Thank you,” I reply. If anything, I know I was taught to be polite. Whether he meant the compliment or not, I was raised with manners. I’m also extremely flattered by his comment.

  The man himself is what I would call beautiful. His features seem a bit native like mine, but there seems to be a lot more mixed into them. His black hair and slanted dark
eyes would make anyone in my tribe look at him like he belongs. It’s the lighter complexion and freckles he also has that tells me that he’s not of pure blood. Something sparks inside me, wondering how I’d be able to see this man if he were of pure blood. Or even if the tribe would accept him, since he is obviously not.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me.

  Now, I’m the one who feels like a fool just standing here.

  “Oh, yes,” I answer. “You’re different. You’re tall, well built, and have a lot of native features, but you’re so fair-skinned that I know you can’t be. Where does your family come from?”

  I know it’s bold but as natives, we were taught to always speak our minds. As I said before, I have a need to know more about this stranger.

  “My family is mostly from England,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders. There’s more, but I can’t seem to pinpoint what he’s hiding.

  “There’s more,” I tell him, waving my finger around in front of him as if I’m pointing to the differences.

  “Yes, I do believe there is,” he tells me with a smirk on his face. And suddenly, as if something came to him, his smirk transforms into a smile.

  “Have dinner with me tonight,” he begins. “I’ll tell you all about my heritage and you and I can think of things we could do to stop this atrocity from happening.”

  He points around the land and the big equipment that’s been doing all the damage.

  “I can’t,” I tell him. And I really can’t.

  Living here on the reservation for the next eleven months means I can’t go out and enjoy the pleasures of the modern world.

  “I’m sanctioned here on the reserve,” I explain. “We, Native Americans, have to spend at least a year on the reserve with the elders to honor our families. It’s not that I wouldn’t love to go to dinner with you, but I’d be breaking my promise, therefore, dishonoring my tribe if I were to go farther than the boundaries of the reserve. Where I am standing right now could be considered me leaving since this part of the land no longer belongs to our tribe.”

  His look of confusion is quite clear. And quite comical.

  “You actually do that?” Honest confusion spills from his question.

  “Yes, we do,” I answer. “Every member of this tribe has spent at least a year on the reservation once they become an adult. After that year is up, you can decide if you want to stay and live here forever or if you want to live in the modern outside world. Should you choose the outside world, it is still our duty to come and spend at least one month a year on the reserve. I have eleven more months before I make my decision. But I don’t think it will take me that long.”

  “Wow,” he breathes out, a bit of awe in his voice. “I have to tell you, not that it doesn’t amaze me, but I don’t think I could do it. I’d probably break the first week.

  I chuckle out loud at that.

  “I honestly thought I would have too. I fought my parents for a long time before I graduated from college about having to do it. But now that I’m here, I know it was exactly where I was supposed to be.”

  “Can I come to have dinner with you?” he asks. He seems to really want to spend time with me. Again, it’s such a shame he isn’t of my people because I could feel a pull to him that I’ve never felt with anyone else in my lifetime.

  “We only have outsiders on our reservation certain times of the year,” I answer. “I’d love to have dinner with you, but I have to get permission from the Chief to have you here. Maybe I can explain that you are willing to help us stop this atrocity, and maybe he’ll agree.”

  “That’s great,” he states, excitement in his voice. “Here’s my number, call me and let me know.”

  “I can’t do that. We don’t use modern technology here on the reservation. You’ll have to meet me here later in order for me to let you know.”

  “Really?” he asks. “What if there’s an emergency? If someone gets hurt?”

  I understand his confusion.

  “We have healers. We also have medical doctors. We do go to school and learn, you know.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  He has an innocence to him, I’d love to teach and get to know.

  “Can you meet me back here…in this spot?” I look up to the sky before continuing, trying to decipher the current time. “In like an hour? The sun in the sky tells me it’s around four o’clock. We have dinner at six, so it’ll give me time to talk to the Chief and then give you time to speak with him if he allows it. He will decide if you are welcome or not.”

  “I’ll do that,” he answers without hesitation. “You’re not only beautiful, but you’re also amazing, you know that, right?”

  I don’t respond to that because I don’t think a response is needed.

  “I’ll see you then,” I answer and run off into the woods, hoping the Chief will allow this man to try to help us conserve the land.

  Leaving Smith behind wasn’t easy. I felt like I could stand there and talk to him all day, but I needed to speak to the Chief.

  If Smith really wants to help us, and something inside me tells me he does, then I need the Chief’s permission to bring him onto the reservation and to continue down this path to correct the wrongs that continue to be done to our tribe.

  As I reach the Chief’s quarters, nervousness takes over me.

  I fault in my steps, playing out in my head exactly what I want to say. I know if I really want this, I am going to have to be convincing when telling the Chief.

  The Chief has never met this man. He has no reason whatsoever to believe in him the way my soul is screaming inside me to believe in what he says.

  What if he says no?

  Oh God, I didn’t think of that before now?

  If Chief says no, Smith will be standing in the clearing without any explanation as to why I never showed. Because I guarantee you if he says no, he’ll also forbid me to go back to the clearing to explain why he can’t come on our land. He’ll be left wondering why I didn’t come back and if he’s done something wrong.

  I don’t want him feeling that way, no matter what’s decided.

  “Spit it out, Young Pocahontas,” the Chief suddenly speaks behind me.

  I’m startled because I didn’t hear him come up behind me. Although, I shouldn’t be. As large as the Chief is, he’s just as stealthy.

  I want to argue with him that that’s not my name, but I can’t. It’s an honor to be called by a name that’s so greatly respected amongst our ancestors.

  I didn’t get that name because of honor, however. I got it because I was a spry, sneaky little troublemaker in my youth. When I was little, apparently the elders decided I truly earned my namesake.

  “Chief,” I say, a bit breathless. Being so nervous, I lost my breath when I was startled. Plus, the man scares the shit out of me. He’s an easy six foot six and built like an ox, no one could ever claim he doesn’t intimidate them the slightest.

  “Speak, child,” he states, patience lost in his command. “I know there is something you want to say. Why have you come to my quarters? Don’t overthink, Young Pocahontas, just speak. When you don’t overthink, you speak your honest truth. You don’t have time to over-explain or think of ways to make things work to your advantage. You can’t exaggerate something that is true in your mind when you just speak it out loud and without thought.”

  Yes, our Chief was chosen to lead this tribe for a reason. He is so wise beyond his years and so very respected. He doesn’t ever pull punches and always just tells it as it is. I wish I had his confidence to just speak my mind without having to think of the consequences should someone not agree with all that I was trying to convey.

  “There’s a man,” I start.

  “No,” he answers, not allowing me to finish. “You are still too young, Pocahontas, I will not allow men in your life.”

  Oh goodness, he thinks I want to be with this man I’m coming to him about. I mean, I know most people ask the tribe’s permission before marrying, but I don�
��t ever feel I would come to the tribe if I met someone I’d just like to date. Maybe if I ever decided to marry, but that would be a long way down the line.

  “No, Chief,” I begin to explain. “That is not what I’m trying to talk with you about.”

  “I know,” he answers with a chuckle. “It’s just fun to watch you turn beet red with embarrassment. You are older now, and it’s easier to have fun with you. I needed to be strict and strong when you were younger as you needed to learn respect. But you have excelled at that, and now it’s time you have fun with life, your elders, and your tribe.”

  Since when did the Chief get a sense of humor? I’m not sure I like this new side of him. I think I like him being mean and demanding respect at all times. I don’t think I could be one to joke around with him at any time in my life.

  “Chief?” I start to ask but immediately change my mind. I’m actually afraid of what he may respond if I ask him the question that is sitting in the forefront of my mind. I decide it’s just best to get back on track so we can discuss what’s really important right now.

  “One of the men from the woods the other day…he would like to come to supper. He has offered to try to help us stop the desecration of the lands beyond the reservation. I’d like to bring him to meet you and to hear what ideas he may have to help us reclaim what is rightfully ours and what has been stolen from our people.”

  I remain standing strong in front of the Chief. He appears to be studying me, my gait, and my spirit. It’s as if he’s looking straight through me. It’s like he’s trying to determine if what I am saying is sincere. If I truly believe in this stranger.

  “Come with me,” he declares and starts to walk away. “We will go see Elder Lacy.”

  Elder Lacy is what you’d call a seer. She knows things before they happen. She can see a person’s soul and know if they are good or bad. She can read emotions and feelings. She scares the daylights out of me with what she knows and how she’s able to read things way before they happen.