Fractured Fairy Tales: A SaSS Anthology

by Amy Marie

  “That’s pretty profound, Johnnie,” he chuckles. “Sorry, I know now is not a time to joke, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “You can do whatever it is that makes you feel comfortable,” I tell him. “Right now, your comfort is what matters to me. Come now, take me to your home, teach me about Smith, the man and how he came to be.”

  “Wait, did you just say you’re coming home with me?” he asks, confusion marring his face. “I’m a stranger. You should never go home with strangers. You don’t know me from Adam, how are you coming home with me?”

  “I don’t know who Adam is, but I will tell you, I know you more than you think I know you. We are destined, and destiny would not put me with someone I cannot trust. I feel it in here,” I say as I point to my heart. “Your soul is good. It is pure. If it weren’t, we wouldn’t be here right now.

  “You’re too trusting,” he replies as he shakes his head.

  “Just take me to your home, Smith, you will understand soon enough.”

  I feel if I don’t take the lead here, we will never make it to his home. And if we don’t make it to where he is most comfortable, we won’t be able to face our lives together.

  “It’s a long drive, don’t you want to eat first?” he asks.

  “Oh, yes,” I reply. “I had totally forgotten about supper after our journey. We are probably too late to join everyone, but would you want to try? Or would you like to go somewhere else?”

  “No offense, but I don’t think I can face your tribe again so soon.”

  “I understand. Take me anywhere you’d like. I can adapt to whatever you like to eat.”

  He grabs my bags and leads me off the reservation. We walk for a few minutes before he strolls over to a green Jeep Wrangler, my favorite kind, with soft doors and a soft roof. He puts my bags inside then walks around the passenger side and opens the door for me. It also has a lift on it, so it’s pretty hard for me at five feet tall to get into.

  “After you,” he says and helps me to jump up into the vehicle.

  “Sorry about that,” he says when he gets in the driver’s side. “I’m six feet six, so I wanted the Jeep to be high off the ground. I guess I never accounted for someone of your, ahem, stature to have to get into it.”

  “It’s okay,” I respond. “This is perfect. I would do the same to mine if I had one. Even if I needed to buy myself a step ladder to get into it. And thanks for trying to be so polite and not calling me a shorty. Most people like to poke fun at me and call me ‘fun-size.’”

  “I wouldn’t go as far as fun-size, more like bite-size,” he jokes back.

  I shoot him a glare, which is meant to be mean, but I burst out in laughter inside. I don’t think he realizes what he said and how it could be taken.

  Yes, I have a dirty mind and totally thought of something else.

  Chapter 12

  Smith

  “My full legal name is Matoaka Johanna Rolfe. I am a direct descendant of the great Pocahontas. Many do not know this, but her legal name was Amonute. Her name with the tribe was Matoaka. No one outside the tribe ever used that name. She was called Pocahontas because it means misbehaved. Not only am I named for her, but they also started calling me Pocahontas when I was younger because I was quite the troublemaker. As with Amonute, no one outside the tribe has ever called me Matoaka. So please, if we are in public and you want to speak to me, please either call me Johnnie or Johanna.”

  Holy shit. I just realized this woman sitting in my living room knows nothing about me and until thirty seconds ago, I didn’t even know her full name.

  “Um, my full legal name is Smith Robert Johnson. It’s nothing special and has no special message or meaning of my past. You can call me Smith or Smitty, which is what most people call me. Well, now that I know a little bit more about my history, I may now know why my middle name has been carried down within our family for centuries.”

  I feel my life is so boring compared to hers. Could the visions we saw be wrong? I’m really starting to wonder if maybe they drugged me, and I was hallucinating that whole time. But this feeling deep inside me won’t let me believe that I was.

  “Robert was the name they used in your vision. The man who fathered Noaka’s child.”

  “Yes, it was, I guess. All I ever knew about him was that he was arrested after impregnating his sexual slave and was sent back to England and the child, whom we now know was named Earl Robert, was raised solely by my great-great-great-grandmother Catherine, along with her five daughters.”

  “Do you know anything about the child?” Johnnie asks, curiosity lining her voice.

  “Just what I thought I knew from the journals, but we already know those are littered in lies.” Right now it’s so hard to believe that anything that was written in the journals could be even a little bit true.

  “Is that all you have? Journals? You don’t have stories of your history that were shared?” There’s a natural curiosity lining her voice. She genuinely does want to know about me and my history.

  “I will try to give you everything I have, but I can’t promise you any of it will be accurate. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  “We will figure it all out together,” she assures me. “If we need to go on another journey into the past, we can do that. I was taught by the elders how to take the journey.”

  “No,” I respond immediately. “I don’t think I want to do that again. I think whatever truly transpired needs to be left in the past, and we should begin to build a new history.”

  “I agree. Where should we start?”

  “Tell me more about you.” I legitimately do want to know all there is to know about this woman. I could give two shits about our ancestors and what is supposedly bringing us together. I want to know her and what could be.

  “There’s not much to know. I’m twenty-two years old. I recently graduated with my master’s in environmental law. My parents paid for my college, so I don’t have any student loans. The tribe has trust funds for every child born within the tribe, so I will never have to go without. I was born of John and Amy, or as you will eventually come to know them Bidzill and Catori. Bidzill means strong one and Catori means spirit. When you are around the tribe, that is what they are called. When you are with others, they will always go by John or Amy.”

  “Why so many different names?” This confuses me. I’d love to know why the natives have gone by one name in public and another within their people.

  “Our native names are derived from nature or animals or characteristics. We believe we come from something greater. We will all have a part of our names from our ancestry, one way or another. We keep those to the tribe so that we have separation or uniqueness. We need something to remember who we are and where we came from.”

  “I still don’t understand.” And that’s the truth. I honestly have no clue what she’s talking about.

  “Anyone can identify as John or Amy or Smith, but can you identify as Eagle or Rat or Bull? Everyone thinks those are the names used for natives, but they are more slanderous. We like to have a unique identity amongst our people that no one else shares. It’s like having a family nickname if I were to use a more layman’s terms. However, for us, our ‘nicknames’ are used outside of the tribe and only our real names are used within.”

  “I guess that makes a little more sense,” I reply, thinking it repeatedly in my head. “My mom has always referred to me as Dark. Although it sounds kind of offensive, it’s only because I was the darkest one in my family. All my family has blond hair and blue eyes. No one understood where the black hair and near-black eyes came from. Hell, my father even had a DNA test run because he thought maybe my mom had an affair. Turns out I was one hundred percent his and it took my parents more than five years of counseling before my mother could forgive him for thinking she’d ever cheat.”

  “Oh my goodness,” she gasps. “That’s horrible. But truth be told, I guess I can’t blame your father. No one knew you were the child of N
oaka. They had no idea that you were born of royalty. Are you an only child?”

  “Yes, I am,” I answer. “Not that it’s what my parents originally wanted. They wanted a large family. All our ancestors had many children and they wanted the same. I was the game-changer. Now that I think of it, so was Earl. He was the only child of Noaka and Robert, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, you and I both saw the same memory,” she answers. “Noaka took her last breath after she birthed her son, so he would have been the only child of Robert and her. Even though he did have daughters, they would have taken on their husband’s lives, not kept with their fathers. Are you a continuing son? Or was there a woman who continued the line?”

  That’s a weird question. I have to think about how to answer it for a moment. It’s not that I don’t know that I’m a continuing son, but I’ve never heard it referred to as such.

  “I’m trying to understand what you are asking so I can answer you truthfully.” I hope I’m not making a fool of myself and I think I understand what she is asking. “If I understand what you are asking, I am from the son of a son of a son, etcetera.”

  “Yes, that is exactly what I was asking,” she tells me.

  Relief runs through me that I didn’t make a fool of myself.

  “So, then the answer is yes,” I answer. “Is there any significance to that? Or is it just out of curiosity?”

  “Oh no, that wasn’t curiosity,” she replies. “It just tells me a lot about your line. Are you the first one with dark hair and dark eyes? Or was fate missed many times in the past?”

  “Huh, oh, I understand. No, I’m the first-ever in our bloodline that has had dark hair and dark eyes. The portraits of Earl Robert show not even he had dark hair and eyes.”

  “That’s not possible,” she answers.

  I’m confused. Yet, suddenly I understand more than she said.

  “They painted him differently than he appeared, didn’t they?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  “Yes, because if you remember our journey, although Noaka didn’t see the child, we were able to. He was dark, like a native, not light like the man who fathered him.”

  I have to look back at that memory, and I realize she is correct. The child had dark hair covering almost all of him. I thought him more of a monkey by his hairy appearance more than a human child.

  “Being born that dark, he could not have changed too much. There had to have been others who were darker, yet not as dark as yourself.”

  I studied a bit of genealogy in school, I know she’s correct.

  “They hid it until it didn’t appear anymore, didn’t they?” I ask no one in particular, although she is sitting here with me.

  “They had to have,” she replies.

  “Well, now we know the truth, so what do we do?” I need to know where we go from here.

  I don’t want to live with the lies of my past. I want to build a new future, a new history. I won’t hide any more than I’ll allow my descendants to hide who they are.

  Chapter 13

  Matoaka

  Getting to know one another has been quite fun.

  After the initial shock of learning his ancestors’ lies and deceit, I can only imagine the emotions he was feeling, though he tried very hard to express them out loud. Smith’s confusion and pain have finally calmed a lot now that he was able to talk through everything he originally believed to be true.

  I’ve learned the man has quite the sense of humor and loves to make people laugh. His way of dealing with things is by cracking jokes and sometimes even making himself the butt of the joke.

  We’ve been at his home for three days and have been getting to know everything about each other. It’s been an experience to learn so much about each other’s lives.

  It was a good thing his home has two bedrooms. It meant I was able to sleep in a bed and not on the couch or floor, though his couch has to be one of the most comfortable couches I’ve ever sat on.

  The first night we came here, all tired out, I immediately offered to sleep on the couch. Smith told me there was no need. That even if his home didn’t have two bedrooms, he would’ve given up his bed for me to sleep in.

  To me, that would have been unnecessary. This is his home, and I am invading his space. I wouldn’t have put him further out.

  “Hey, Smith,” I yell from the bathroom as I am getting ready for the day. “Is the coffee ready yet, or am I going to have to kick your ass?”

  “Good luck trying that,” he yells back. “Of course the coffee is ready. I learned the first morning you were here how unruly you could be if you don’t have your coffee.”

  “Haha,” I respond. Though, he’s not really wrong.

  “What do you think about going out for a picnic today?” he asks, throwing me a bit off guard.

  “Um, okay,” I reply, questioningly.

  I wonder why he suddenly wants to leave the house when all we’ve done is stay in and talk.

  “I thought maybe I could show you some things about my life,” he tells me, seemingly reading my mind.

  “Oh, that sounds great.” Now I feel guilty about doubting him.

  “Well, I’ve already packed your coffee and a basket, so as soon as you are ready, we can go,” he says from behind me, startling me.

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” I gasp as I grab my chest, my heart beating a million beats a minute.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he responds. “But if we don’t hurry and leave, you’ll miss the best part of my day.”

  “What are you up to, Smith?” I question, looking into his eyes.

  His eyes are beautiful, such a deep dark color and I feel like I can see his soul when I look into them.

  “I’m not up to anything, Johnnie, really,” he replies. “I thought that if we are destined to spend our eternity together, you might as well get to know everything about the man you’ll be marrying.”

  That last part throws me for a loop, immediately. He said it with such conviction, and I don’t even know when he made this decision. We haven’t even covered anything about our fate since we left the reservation.

  “Don’t look so scared, Johnnie, I know what we are fated for, and I won’t mess with fate. I’m trying to accept it, but I want us to know one another before we have to take those steps. Don’t you think we should?”

  I can’t argue with his logic, so I just nod my head and exit the bathroom. I’m at a loss for words and don’t want to say something I don’t mean.

  I grab the mug of coffee he prepared, quite perfectly, for me and walk out the door.

  Smith quickly catches up with me and heads to his car.

  “I hope I didn’t spook you,” Smith says as he boosts me up into the passenger side of his Jeep.

  “No, you didn’t,” I answer honestly. “I just didn’t think you were there yet. We haven’t even discussed it yet, I thought we were taking our time. I’m not disagreeing with you, but I didn’t know you’d even been considering it.”

  “I haven’t been sleeping much,” he replies as he gets into the driver’s side. “I realized that somehow I already knew there was a reason I found you in the forest. That there was a greater meaning. I told you, I knew something was different about you and me from the moment I laid eyes on you. I know we really don’t have a choice, and I’m not going to fight it. What’s the worst that could happen, you hate me and try to skin me alive?”

  “Hey, I would never do that! I may scalp you, but I’d never skin you alive!” I answer with a chuckle.

  “Let’s go see the sunrise over the mountain,” he tells me. “It’s so beautiful and we don’t have much time left. We got a late start this morning. Though I know it’s not too late, but it’s later than I normally go out. On the first morning we spent together, I was surprised to see you get up before the sun as I do. It’s great to know I won’t have to spend my early mornings alone anymore.”

  “Wait, you’re taking me to Ryan’s Peak?” I ask, a bit of awe to my
voice.

  Ryan’s Peak is my favorite place to spend my mornings. I usually jog up there in the morning to watch the sunrise myself.

  “I don’t visit often, but it’s my favorite place to be,” he admits.

  “It’s my favorite place too,” I tell him, looking directly in his eyes.

  “Well, it’s just another thing you and I seem to have in common,” he says and starts driving.

  We arrive at the peak, just on time, and Smith pulls out a blanket and a picnic basket.

  Together we lay out the blanket and take a seat to watch the sunrise. It’s absolutely beautiful.

  “So, what do you say, Matoaka?” Smith turns and looks at me. “Will you become my wife and spend the rest of eternity with me? Will you help me fulfill our destiny?”

  A Note From KiKi Malone

  Thank you for reading!

  If you enjoyed this story, the full paperback will be on sale at #SASS20 in Norfolk! It will be placed on sale online shortly after.

  The full story will be released in ebook format on September 1, 2020.

  Part Twelve

  Sinister Seas by Kira Nyte

  The Little Mermaid Retelling

  Blurb

  Storm of Flames

  Aria has shunned the human world since her love for a human prince brought fear and danger to her people. She believes she is safe under the sea—until a witch imprisons her family, steals her tail and sends her onto land on wobbling legs in search of the Forgotten Prince.