Long Snows Moon (9 page)

“What’s Ripe Berries Moon?”

“Its Native American astrology but it’s done
under the moon instead of the sun. Like I’ll bet you’re a Virgo and
you just had a birthday.”

“Yeah, my birthday was September fifteenth.
Are you a mind reader or something?”

“I can just tell stuff about people. I get it
from my mom. She calls it intuition I call it knowing. She’s a
medicine woman.”

“She's a doctor?”

The girl nodded. “She's a psychiatrist, an
M.D., she has a Ph.D. in Botany, and she's a good old fashioned
medicine woman, descended from a long line of shamans and healers.
Plus, she's a cool mom.”

“That is cool,” Devon nodded.

“Anyway, since your birthday was September
fifteenth, you were born under the Harvest Moon. It was my mom’s
idea to name the first-born pup after their moon cycle for the
pedigree papers. It’s like the dog’s birth certificate.”

“Okay, I get it, now. So, give me an Indian
name.”

“You are Shadow Wolf.”

“Devon,” Claire called.

“Shadow Wolf, that’s awesome,” Devon said.
“Maybe we can stop back by here on our way home. I didn't even get
a chance to look in the store.”

“Sure, try to stop by. My mom and I make
dream catchers, medicine pouches, arrowheads, all kinds of stuff. I
even sell some of my paintings.”

“That’s cool. I’ve never met a real artist.
But, I couldn’t tell you were Indian.”

“I’m half.”

“Well, you don’t look it. Let me braid your
hair like an Indian squaw.”

“No, that’s so cliché.”

“Come on, you have beautiful hair, I bet it
looks awesome as hell.”

Jameson stared at the ground, shyly.

“I’m sorry,” Devon said. “My aunt Claire’s
right. I have a big, filthy mouth. I just love your hair.

“That’s okay.” Jameson smiled. “You are just
a little wild, you can’t help it. Come on, I’ll let you braid it.
What the hell.”

They giggled and Jameson pulled Devon to the
ground. The puppies tumbled over their laps until they fell asleep.
Devon stroked Jameson's long hair, separating it with her
fingers.

“Your hair is so dark it’s almost blue,”
Devon whispered. “But your eyes are an amazing yellowish-green
color. I've never seen anyone who looked like you.”

Jameson blushed and pet Berry. “My great,
great-grandparents were Navajo and Sioux. They settled here and
joined with the Lakota. My dad was a white man so I am a half-breed
like the puppies. Look, your eyes are the same color blue as my
puppy.” She held her up for Devon to see.

“You're right, they are the same color. She
could be my daughter if I was a wolf,” Devon said.

“Devon,” Claire hollered.

Devon rolled her eyes and sighed, “I hate
that bitch.”

“Do you really hate?”

Devon frowned. “Not hate, I guess. She’s just
so bossy and controlling.”

“Your mother loves her.”

“Yeah, my mom does have a way with animals,
get it?” Devon laughed as she braided.

“Yeah, that's funny. But, seriously, she
can’t be all bad if your mom loves her. In a way you love her,
too.”

“I guess I love her a little, but she’s still
a bitch,” Devon insisted.

Jameson raised a quizzical brow. Devon felt
conscious of her language. Claire was right for sure. She squirmed
under the girl’s cat-like gaze, hypnotized by her wild eyes.

“You’re a mind reader, aren’t you?” Devon
hurried to finish the braids.

“Yep,” Jameson laughed. Her eyes flashed as
she revealed her secret. “I can read your mind right now.”

Devon watched Jameson's mouth and wondered
what she tasted like.

“I doubt that,” Devon tossed her head. “I
doubt that very much.”

“Well, then tell me what you were thinking
about.”

“I wish I could fly away from my life and not
worry about stupid things like boarding school and proper
etiquette.”

“In your mind you can fly here whenever you
want.” Jameson said.

“Devon, honey,” her mother called.

“I really have to go.”

“Good-bye, Shadow Wolf. Good luck on your
journey.”

“What journey?”

“Your life.” She got up and pulled Devon to
her feet. “The grand journey of life, your Medicine Walk.” She
pulled Devon closer and whispered, “Walk lightly and listen well,
there will be signs of the Great Mystery all around you.”

Devon nodded, not understanding but
accepting. She withdrew her hands, feeling light-headed.

“Your hands are hot.”

Jameson smiled at Devon and her cat eyes
twinkled. “Here, take this in case you don’t find what you’re
looking for.” She untied a leather string from around her neck and
gave the arrowhead to Devon.

“Wow, that’s amazing.”

“It confirms our friendship. It’s to remind
you even when you’re alone we are still connected. We are all
one.”

“We are all one,” Devon repeated. “Thank you.
I’ll never forget that.”

Devon removed her expensive silver locket.
She bowed her head for Jameson to tie the leather around her
neck.

“I love it, I really do,” Devon breathed.
“I’ll never take it off. Then you take this.”

She pressed the pendant in Jameson's
palm.

“Are you sure? It looks awfully
expensive.”

“Yeah, but it’s a trade, you have to take
it,” Devon insisted. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want
to.”

“I will wear it and I will treasure it.” She
put it on.

“Oh no, the puppies escaped,” Devon
hollered.

They’d left the greenhouse door ajar. The
puppies woke up and discovered the opening. Jameson managed to herd
them back inside, but one scampered toward the woods. Devon dashed
after it as it burrowed under a tangle of dead branches.

“Come back here, puppy, you’ll get lost in
there.” Devon sprinted into the woods. “Where did you go?”

It was as if she had stepped into another
world. Tangled brush thatched with vines make it hard to move.
Devon shoved her body through the branches breaking them with her
hands as they swatted back at her, slapping her face in
disapproval.

She saw the puppy ahead, caught in a snarl of
roots.

“Are you okay?” Devon cooed. She rescued him
and held him close. “You shouldn’t run away, the woods are
dangerous for a tiny creature.”

Branches snapped behind her, then a terrible
growl. She turned to meet the menacing eyes of an angry wolf.

Devon clutched the puppy against her chest
and met the wolf’s stare. The trees were crowded, making it
impossible to run. She touched her arrowhead as she hummed a song
she didn’t know she knew. She held out the puppy for him to sniff.
He did, no longer growling, he sat. Devon sat beside him and
stroked his grimy coat, not caring about his dirt. The wolf closed
his eyes and slept.

Jameson bounded into the woods on a path that
eluded Devon. Devon put her finger to her lips and pointed to the
sleeping wolf. Jameson frowned and motioned for Devon to come.

Before she got up, Devon kissed the wolf’s
snout, and followed Jameson out of the woods. She handed her back
the puppy.

“Are you crazy? That was a wolf.”

Devon frowned. “I know.”

“Devon,” Claire called.

“I have to go. Thank you for the
arrowhead.”

“His name is Two Stars. He is their
father.”

“I know that, too,” Devon grinned. “I don’t
know how, but the knowing popped into my head.”

“I call him Two Stars even though I know his
real name. He thinks I can’t pronounce it.”

“What is it?”

“Ocumwhowurst.” Jameson shrugged when she
said it. “It’s not that hard to say.”

“Ocumwhowurst,” Devon stated. “Yeah, it’s not
hard at all. I like Two Stars better, though.”

“So do I.”

Devon followed her back into the greenhouse
to return the puppy to its place.

“My mom and Claire would kill me if they knew
what I just did,” Devon chuckled.

Her chuckle became a hiccup when Jameson
slammed the door behind them.

Jameson's brows bent when she shouted at
Devon. “You shouldn’t have approached Two Stars like that. He is
extremely dangerous and unpredictable. I cannot believe how
reckless you are.”

“Well, I’m still alive and I rescued your
dog. Are you seriously mad at me?”

“You must respect wild animals. To kill is
part of their temperament.”

“What's the big deal?”

Jameson dropped her eyes and shook her head.
“I don’t think you understand much about the world and the laws of
nature. I’m scared for you.”

Devon put her hand on Jameson's shoulder.
“Don't worry. I have your magic arrowhead to protect me, like it
did in the woods.”

“I hope that will be enough to keep you
safe,” Jameson said. “Be careful. Even the highest predator is prey
to something.”

“You are wise for a kid. How old are
you?”

“Fourteen.”

“I turned fourteen a few months ago. Don't be
mad. I will never go into the woods and talk to sleeping
wolves.”

Jameson cocked her neck as if trying to
decide if Devon was pulling her leg.

“I'm serious. I will be careful on my journey
of life.”

“Okay, sorry I freaked out but you scared
me.”

“I wish I didn’t have to leave,” Devon took
Jameson's hand. “We could be best friends.” Devon surprised herself
by hugging her.

Jameson returned her embrace. Devon smelled
the wildness of the outdoors in Jameson's hair. She felt the
softness of her cheek against her face. Was it Jameson's heartbeat
or her own that hammered in her chest? Devon trembled when Jameson
slid her hands up her spine and laced her fingers on the back of
her neck. She pulled her close. Their noses touched.

“Respect this life,” she whispered.

Their eyes locked. Jameson rummaged her
fingers through Devon's hair.

It was an exotic move for a young girl and
something Devon had only seen in movies. Devon saw her reflection
in Jameson eyes, longing for the kiss. Devon closed her eyes.

Jameson whispered, “I taste like this.” Their
lips met.

“Goddamn it Devon, now!” Claire bellowed.

Devon growled. She felt like a wolf, ready to
bite.

“You better go.” Jameson released her.

Devon dashed from the greenhouse and dove
into the backseat of the car. She pressed her face against the
leather to hide her shame, panting as though she’d sprinted a mile.
They practically kissed!

“Put on your seatbelt,” Claire snapped, “and
take these wipes. You’re getting the seats dirty. I knew you’d
forget to wash your hands.”

Claire flung two packs of moistened
towelettes. One hit Devon in the eye.

“What the f …?”

“Don’t say it!” Claire warned as she cast
Devon a Medusa stare in the rear-view

“Wave good-bye to your friend,” Analise
said.

Jameson sat on the porch next to Ducks. She
put her fingers to her lips and blew Devon a covert kiss as she
fondled the locket.

“We are all one.” Devon opened the window.
“Ocumwhowurst. That’s easy for us to pronounce.”

Jameson looked more like a woman and less
like a child.

“Did you have fun, Honey?” Analise asked.

“Of course she had fun. She was rooting
around in the dirt like a little savage with a little savage.”

“She not a savage, you bitch,” Devon snarled.
“Even dogs hate you!”

“Damn you, Devon, how dare you speak to me
that way. Buckle your fucking seat-belt for god's sake.

“Language, Claire,” Analise gasped.

Devon laughed so hard she fell to the
floor.

“If this is the way this trip is going to be
then I will turn this car around and drive home now,” Claire
fumed.

“Calm down, Claire,” Analise begged. “Now,
Devon, apologize to Claire immediately.”

Devon giggled. The way Claire said fuck was
hysterical.

“You have a fresh mouth, Devon Louise Van
Sykes,” Claire said.

“So do you, Claire Louise Sommers-Danforth.
Way, much filthier than mine. But, now I have your big shoes to
fucking grow in to.”

That night dinner had been a disaster, but
Devon could have predicted that.

Chapter Eleven

“
Devon, go sit in
the car and wait there,” Claire ordered. “Make sure you lock
yourself in and don’t open the doors for anyone but us.
Go.”

Devon shoved her untouched plate of spaghetti
and meatballs away and made a grand fuss of leaving the table. She
didn’t even bother looking at her mother for moral support, knowing
all too well she would side with Claire. She stomped away from the
table, but not before casting Claire a murderous look.

Claire returned the stare with equal
wrath.

Devon pretended to leave but hid in a nearby
alcove and eavesdropped.

“Claire, I let her have the wine, it’s my
fault,” Analise apologized.

“She drank the whole glass.”

“We should have been paying more
attention.”

“She’s used to getting away with murder,
Analise. I do question your parenting skills sometimes,” Claire
stated, tossing back her own wine and refilling both of their
glasses.

“That’s a bit harsh. I love my daughter and I
try to be a good mother. You can’t expect me to keep her on a
leash.”

“Manners and discipline are what I expect.
Trevor is a model son, meticulously groomed, polite, and even
enjoys doing his own laundry.”

“Devon is intelligent, inquisitive, and
extremely sensitive. She is the kind of person who has to
experience things herself, not take someone’s word as rote.
Besides, this isn’t a competition, Claire.”

“You know I love Devon, Analise.”

“If you love her be more patient with her. If
you love me, be more patient, period.” Analise put her hand on
Claire’s.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’m used to being
in charge and running things, you know it’s hard for me to turn
off. And it’s been much too long since we’ve been together, if you
know what I mean.”