school year below mine, and people were always confusing our families on the census: Gives Light, Takes Flight. The error wouldn't have happened in Shoshone, where Gives Light is Makan Imaa and Takes Flight is Yutsummi'a. Whatever. Aubrey's hair was the shortest on the rez, probably because he didn't want it getting in the way of his farmwork. He was as tall as I was, as skinny as Sky was, and bedecked in the thickest, most sinful eyeglasses known to humanity. And Uncle Gabe wondered why I didn't want a pair.
"Looking forward to the pauwau coming up?" Aubrey asked kindly.
"No," I said.
I shouldn't have been so short with him. It wasn't his fault he didn't know how to talk to me. Most people didn't. Aubrey had extra reason to fear me if he wanted to: My dad had killed his aunt, Rebecca Takes Flight.
"Well," Aubrey said. "I should--"
"Wait," I said.
Maybe Sky was right. Maybe people didn't hate me the way I thought they did. If I judged people prematurely, they had every right to distrust and avoid me. Sleeping Fox and Zeke looked at me and saw my father; but they didn't speak for the rest of the community. Even if Rosa Gray Rain and Aubrey Takes Flight saw my father's face in the place of mine, it didn't mean they hated me. Had I ever done anything to make them like me?
"Uh," I said. "What crops are you planting right now?"
It was the difference between night and day. Aubrey sat up straight and pushed back his eyeglasses and jabbered at me like he'd been waiting all his life for someone to ask him that question.
"Well!" Aubrey said. "Actually, we just put some soybeans in the ground--late June's the best season for them, really--and the snapbeans ripen soon, and the okra, do you like okra? After the monsoon we'll plant beets and carrots, some winter squash, shame they take so long to grow but what can you do--"
"Do you like books?" I asked. I was afraid if I didn't interrupt him, he'd forget to take a breath.
"Yes," Aubrey said, breathless anyway. His aura was yellow. "Do you like cyberpunk?"
"Whozzat?" I asked.
"Oh, no, well, it's--it's a genre, really."
"Oh."
"Twenty minutes into the future, desolate alienation, cyberspace and mega conglomerates--"
"Mega what?"
"Well. Um, what do you like to read?"
"Fairy tales and stuff," I said.
"Ah, fascinating!"
I felt better now that Aubrey and I were treating one another like human beings. Friendliness might have been a bad idea, though, because he stayed with me--and rambled at me--for the rest of the night, right up until Solomon Knows the Woods extinguished the bonfire. By the time I stood up and excused myself I felt like my ears were falling off. Undeterred, Aubrey promised we'd hang out together at the pauwau in a couple of weeks.
"Raf, let's go!" Uncle Gabriel called out.
Relieved, I jogged after him with my trash in hand. I followed him down the poorly lit dirt road.
"Do you have any shirts you need mended?" Uncle Gabriel asked me. His big hand swallowed up my square shoulder. "Rosa offered to do some tailoring for us. She's a pleasant woman, isn't she?"
"Does she ever actually talk?" I asked dubiously.
" 'Course she does! Just this morning we had a great talk about Indian gaming. I'm against it, you know I am, but she really opened my eyes--"
He opened the door to our house and flipped the overhead lights on. I wished we had wicks and oil lamps like every other house on the rez.
"You seem happy today," Uncle Gabriel said, turning on me with a smile.
I dumped my trash in the plastic bag hanging off the front door. I tossed myself haphazardly on the hardwood floor, snacking on black licorice.
"Yeah," I said.
"I saw you talking to Aubrey," Uncle Gabriel said. "I'm glad you're making friends."
I hesitated. I pulled the wet licorice out of my mouth. "You still think I should stay away from Sky? Skylar," I said quickly.
"Yes," Uncle Gabriel said, without pause.
I put the
"Looking forward to the pauwau coming up?" Aubrey asked kindly.
"No," I said.
I shouldn't have been so short with him. It wasn't his fault he didn't know how to talk to me. Most people didn't. Aubrey had extra reason to fear me if he wanted to: My dad had killed his aunt, Rebecca Takes Flight.
"Well," Aubrey said. "I should--"
"Wait," I said.
Maybe Sky was right. Maybe people didn't hate me the way I thought they did. If I judged people prematurely, they had every right to distrust and avoid me. Sleeping Fox and Zeke looked at me and saw my father; but they didn't speak for the rest of the community. Even if Rosa Gray Rain and Aubrey Takes Flight saw my father's face in the place of mine, it didn't mean they hated me. Had I ever done anything to make them like me?
"Uh," I said. "What crops are you planting right now?"
It was the difference between night and day. Aubrey sat up straight and pushed back his eyeglasses and jabbered at me like he'd been waiting all his life for someone to ask him that question.
"Well!" Aubrey said. "Actually, we just put some soybeans in the ground--late June's the best season for them, really--and the snapbeans ripen soon, and the okra, do you like okra? After the monsoon we'll plant beets and carrots, some winter squash, shame they take so long to grow but what can you do--"
"Do you like books?" I asked. I was afraid if I didn't interrupt him, he'd forget to take a breath.
"Yes," Aubrey said, breathless anyway. His aura was yellow. "Do you like cyberpunk?"
"Whozzat?" I asked.
"Oh, no, well, it's--it's a genre, really."
"Oh."
"Twenty minutes into the future, desolate alienation, cyberspace and mega conglomerates--"
"Mega what?"
"Well. Um, what do you like to read?"
"Fairy tales and stuff," I said.
"Ah, fascinating!"
I felt better now that Aubrey and I were treating one another like human beings. Friendliness might have been a bad idea, though, because he stayed with me--and rambled at me--for the rest of the night, right up until Solomon Knows the Woods extinguished the bonfire. By the time I stood up and excused myself I felt like my ears were falling off. Undeterred, Aubrey promised we'd hang out together at the pauwau in a couple of weeks.
"Raf, let's go!" Uncle Gabriel called out.
Relieved, I jogged after him with my trash in hand. I followed him down the poorly lit dirt road.
"Do you have any shirts you need mended?" Uncle Gabriel asked me. His big hand swallowed up my square shoulder. "Rosa offered to do some tailoring for us. She's a pleasant woman, isn't she?"
"Does she ever actually talk?" I asked dubiously.
" 'Course she does! Just this morning we had a great talk about Indian gaming. I'm against it, you know I am, but she really opened my eyes--"
He opened the door to our house and flipped the overhead lights on. I wished we had wicks and oil lamps like every other house on the rez.
"You seem happy today," Uncle Gabriel said, turning on me with a smile.
I dumped my trash in the plastic bag hanging off the front door. I tossed myself haphazardly on the hardwood floor, snacking on black licorice.
"Yeah," I said.
"I saw you talking to Aubrey," Uncle Gabriel said. "I'm glad you're making friends."
I hesitated. I pulled the wet licorice out of my mouth. "You still think I should stay away from Sky? Skylar," I said quickly.
"Yes," Uncle Gabriel said, without pause.
I put the
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