Date: Thu, 02 Oct 2003 15:29:36 +0000
From: aterovis@comcast.net
Subject: Chapter 2 of Never Alone

Never Alone
Part 2 of 4

	I stood in front of my closet debating what to wear. What was
appropriate attire for finding out your family's deepest, darkest secret?
For that matter, what was proper attire for a powwow? I blindly grabbed a
pair of shorts and a T-shirt and pulled them on. It's not like I had a lot
to choose from anyway. With six kids, my parents didn't have a lot of money
to spend on fashion and most of my money went to art supplies.

	Once dressed, I slipped quietly downstairs. I was hoping to make it
out of the house without Mom giving me the third degree since she would
demand to know where I was going and would no doubt flip out if I told her
I was going to a powwow. I hated lying and I was no good at it anyway so
there really wasn't much point. I lucked out and she was on the phone
gossiping with one of her church friends, so I was able to make a clean
escape--or so I thought.

	Even though we didn't have a lot of money, my parents had found it
convenient to get a third car for me. Not out of any consideration for my
needs, but because it meant they wouldn't have to drive me anywhere, they
could send me out on errands, and they didn't have to share a car with
me. I had to maintain it, however. It wasn't much, just a slightly beat-up
1989 Honda Civic, but it ran and it was mine and that was enough for me. I
pulled open the car door to find Michael and a girl tangled in the back
seat.

	"What the hell?" I gasped as they both struggled to situate
clothing and tuck various body parts back where they belonged.

	"Jacy!" Michael yelped. "Don't tell Mom!"

	"What are you doing in my car?" I demanded, but quickly realized
what a stupid question that was. It was obvious what they'd been doing, and
knowing Michael, he'd tell me in detail. "Never mind," I added quickly. "I
can see what you were doing. Mom will kill you if she finds out."

	"That why I asked you not to tell her," he whined.

	"What if she had been the one to catch you?"

	"She never drives your car. She calls it a piece of junk."

	"Still, right here? In my car?"

	I'd been avoiding looking at the girl but risked a glance in her
direction now. She was looking everywhere but at me, but I recognized her
easily enough. She lived a few houses down and had a reputation for being
easy. A well-earned reputation, I now knew.

	Michael shrugged with a cheeky grin.

	"It's not funny," I snarled. "Get out - both of you. And I'm
locking the car from now on. I don't even want to know how many times
you've done this before."

	I think he realized that I really was angry at this point. "I'm
sorry, Jacy," he said as he climbed out, looking only slightly
disheveled. The girl climbed out after him, eyes still averted. "Look, it
won't happen again, I promise."

	"I know it won't, because if it does and I find out, you won't have
to worry about Mom killing you -- I'll kill you. Damn, now I have to get
the backseat disinfected."

	"Don't be so uptight, Jace," he said, struggling to keep from
grinning again. "We were just fooling around. Just cuz you don't do it..."

	"Keep it up and I'll tell Mom," I warned. He blanched at that. The
girl seemed to have gotten bored because she suddenly turned and started
walking away without a word.

	"Andrea, wait!" Michael called after her.

        "Screw yourself," she snapped as she flipped him a rather rude and
dismissive gesture and kept walking.

	I chuckled. "I guess that's what you'll be doing tonight," I said
as I climbed into the car. "I have to go, but this isn't over. We'll talk
about this later."

	Michael groaned. "Great, just what I need - a sex talk from my
freakishly prudish big brother."

	"Or it could come from Mom and Dad..."

	He sighed. "We'll talk later."

	I shut the door and turned the key in the ignition. It came to life
with a sputtering cough and I was on my way.

	Michael's sexual escapades had momentarily distracted me from my
worrying, but now that I was alone, my anxiety came back with a
vengeance. I tried turning on the radio and cranking it up loud, but not
even Beyoncé could lift my spirits.

	I had no idea what Lily was going to tell me, but my overactive
imagination had been busy coming up with all sorts of horrible
scenarios. The one that seemed to best fit what little I knew was that I
was adopted. Actually, that one really wasn't so bad. It would at least
explain why I was so different from everyone else in my family. The only
problem was that I looked too much like my mom's side of the family. Or
maybe Dad wasn't really my father. Maybe I was a child of rape or Mom had
had an affair or something like that. That might explain why Dad never
seemed very interested in me. On the other hand, Dad was sort of distant
with all us kids, not just me in particular.

	My mind kept offering up one possibility after another, each one
darker than the one before, until I finally reached the site of the
powwow. It was held in a wooded part of the local state park. There were
several people milling about directing parking and taking admission. Lily
hadn't mentioned paying to get in. I dug out my wallet, hoping I'd have
enough cash to get in. I did, but barely.

	I followed the crowds toward the actual powwow site. Once there, I
just stopped and took it all in for a minute. I was a little shocked at the
size of the crowd. There were easily hundreds and maybe thousands of people
present, many in full regalia - something I'd only seen on TV before
this. There was some sort of demonstration going on in the center of a
large roped off circle, a group of drummers sat off to one side pounding a
large hide-covered drum and chanting. The drumming seemed to pull at me and
I found myself moving steadily closer to the circle, squeezing between the
other spectators. I stopped just short of the rope and watched a young man
not much older than me whirling rapidly around the circle. He was only
wearing leather and feathers and not much of either, but it was his dancing
that held me enthralled. His feet almost seemed a blur as he executed the
elaborate footwork.

	"He's good, isn't he?" A woman asked from nearby. I turned to see
an older woman sitting in a lawn chair. Her gray hair was held back with a
leather thong and she was wearing a brightly patterned cotton dress. She
smiled at me and nodded toward the young dancer.

	"He's very good," I said.

	"He's my grandson," she said, pride glowing in her voice. "Not too
many of the young ones dance these days. There are only a few others in his
league. He has a good chance of winning this year."

	"It's a competition?" I asked.

	"Oh yes," she said, sounding surprised. "Not right now, of
course. This is just exhibition dancing. Is this your first time here?"

	I nodded.

	She looked confused for a minute. "You're of the blood though,
right?"

	It was my turn to look confused.

	"You're Indian?" she clarified.

	"Oh. Yes."

	She smiled again. "Thought so. At least I'm not that feeble
yet. You look a bit familiar. Do you have a name?"

	I blushed at my bad manners and extended my hand. "I'm sorry. My
name is Jacy Elliott."

	She took my hand as her eyes widened. "You're Glen and Rose's
oldest?"

	"You know my parents?"

	"Let's just say that I'm no longer surprised that this is your
first time at a powwow," she said with a kind smile. "I'm glad you're here
now. It's good that you are trying to learn about your heritage."

	I decided not to enlighten her that it had been Lily's idea and
simply nodded.

	She watched her grandson for a few seconds, then said, "You know,
your father used to be quite a competitor." As hard as I tried, I just
couldn't picture my father out here dancing. "He was quite a loss when he
and Rose stopped attending the events. You were just a tiny baby at the
time." I noticed she didn't say that Mom was a loss.

	The conversation dried up and we watched in silence while her
grandson finished dancing.

	"I have to go find my aunt now," I told her. "It was nice meeting
you."

	She smiled at me again. "The pleasure was mine. And by the way, my
name is Celia Vessey. Tell Lily I said hello."

	I stopped, startled. "How'd you know it was Lily that I was going
to find?"

	She laughed. "Because, she's the only one of those girls that still
comes to the powwow."

	Feeling rather foolish, I said goodbye and went to find the arts
and crafts tent. There were quite a few tents set up around the perimeter
of the powwow grounds, most set in a rough circle that echoed the one at
its center. The majority of the booths held various Native-style jewelry,
clothes, and books. Some of the jewelry was high quality, but some of it
looked as if it had been mass-produced in China. There were several booths
selling a flat piece of fried dough called fry bread. It looked and smelled
delicious, but I'd used almost all my money just to get in and couldn't
afford to buy any. I finally found the arts and crafts tent, which was
slightly larger than the others and marked with a sign that read: "Local
Artists and Craftspeople. A portion of the proceeds goes to the tribal
association."

	I slipped inside and found that the tent was pretty much deserted
except for Lily, two older women in canvas director's chairs, a middle-aged
man who was browsing, and a young man wearing full regalia and facing away
from me, his tanned bare back arched gracefully as he bent to look closer
at a painting. I gasped when I realized it was my paintings - the one of
the male nude - and the landscape was hanging right next to it.

	At my gasp, Lily turned to see me. "Jacy!" she said, obviously
pleased to see me. "I wasn't sure you'd actually come."

	The young man stood and turned to face me as well. I felt my face
flush as I recognized the guy from work.

	He arched an eyebrow. "Fancy meeting you here, Crossing Guard."

	"You two know each other?" Lily asked, sounding very surprised.

	"No," I said quickly.

	"We've not been formally introduced," he said after a beat. "But
we've met."

	"Jacy, this is Skye Morgan. Skye, this is my nephew Jacy Elliott."

	Skye held out his hand and I didn't have a choice but to shake
it. It felt like an electric shock as his hand touched mine.

	"That was his painting you were just looking at," Lily went on,
much to my horror.

	Skye's eyes widened and he turned back to the painting. "You did
that?" he said, sounding impressed. He glanced back at me. "Nice work,
Crossing Guard."

	"Crossing guard?" Lily asked.

	Skye laughed. "Jacy stopped me the other day as I was leaving Dairy
Queen to tell me to be careful crossing the street."

	I don't think I could have been any more embarrassed at that
point. Lily looked at me with a questioning gaze, but I couldn't even meet
her eyes. I was wishing fervently that I'd never come to this stupid
powwow.

	"Well, I'd like to stay and chat but I have to go get ready. I'm
dancing soon," Skye said, his eyes never leaving my face. "Come see me. I'm
good." With a final smile, he left the tent. I stood staring after him, my
mouth agape and my heart pounding.

	"Smug bastard," Lily said as soon as he was gone, but she was
grinning as she said it. "He is good and he damn well knows it. Still, you
can't help but like him." She turned back to me and her grin widened. "I
see you're not immune to his charm."

	I felt my blush deepen.

	"Don't sweat it," she said. "So what's the whole story behind that
crossing guard thing?"

	"There is no story," I mumbled, unwilling to tell anyone about the
strange occurrence.

	"Bullfeathers," my aunt scoffed. "Give me a little credit. Unless
you expect me to believe you just go around telling random strangers to be
careful crossing the street. Or maybe it's just the cute strangers?"

	"I don't want to talk about it," I said through gritted teeth.

	"Jacy, you're going to have to trust me."

	I threw a meaningful glance in the direction of the two older women
who were pretending not to listen but obviously were. Much to my relief,
Lily understood immediately.

	"Let's go for a walk," she suggested. She turned to the two
women. "You two can hold down the fort while I'm gone, right?"

	They agreed and Lily and I made our exit. Once outside, we walked
aimlessly into the trees.

	"Okay, now let's hear it," she said.

	"First, why are my paintings in there? Were you trying to sell
them?"

	"No, I brought it along to show to someone who was going to be
here. I didn't want to just set them on the ground so I hung them
up. They're clearly marked as not for sale, but if they were for sale I
probably could have sold them several times over today."

	"Really?" I asked, pleased in spite of myself.

	"Yes, really. They've been getting a lot of attention today, much
to the dismay of the two old biddies you saw in there. They're both artists
and several of the other paintings are theirs. If you ask me, they're a
little jealous. But anyway, what happened with Skye?"

	I sighed. There was going to be no getting around it. I quickly
told her the whole story, trying to gloss over the vision as much as
possible. When I was finished, she walked quietly for a few minutes.

	Finally, she said, "I think I made the right decision bringing you
here today."

	I looked over at her. "What do you mean?"

	She stopped walking. "Jacy, you've been raised white. Rose and Glen
made that choice when you were just a baby and they were born again -- and,
as adults, that was their prerogative. But by doing so, they denied you
your culture. You know nothing about who you are, but, as the saying goes,
blood always tells. Just because you don't know about your heritage doesn't
make who you are go away. There are...let's just say there are certain
hereditary traits awakening in you right now."

	"I don't understand."

	"No, you wouldn't, but if you want to, I'll try to help you
understand."

	I thought about it a minute. "I do want to understand," I said
slowly. "I think I have to understand."

	She smiled. "That's what I was hoping you'd say. It won't be easy
though. And you'll have to keep it a secret from your mom."

	I nodded-that one I knew without being told.

	"Come on," she said. "Let's get back to the powwow. There's someone
I want you to meet."

	We made our way back just in time to hear the emcee announce that
Skye Morgan was about to give a demonstration of fancy dancing. I found
myself trying to see through the crowd to the dance circle. Lily couldn't
help but notice.

	"Go watch him," she said. "I'll go make sure the person I want you
to meet is still here."

	I stood indecisively as the drumming began until she gave me a
gentle push in the direction of the circle. I glanced back to see her
weaving away through the crowd, so I turned back to the circle and gently
pushed my way once more to the rope. Skye had just begun to dance, but even
knowing as little as I did about powwows and dancing, it didn't take me
long to realize that if the first guy I'd seen dancing was good, Skye was
amazing. Every move he made was filled with a pure fluid grace. Watching
him now, it was easy to believe that there was some magic in dancing; that
it really was some form of primitive communication between man and the
gods. Or maybe not so primitive after all-no one watching Skye move could
call what he was doing primitive-powerful, yes; sensual even, but not
primitive.

	Transfixed by his dance, I watched unblinking while he moved faster
and faster as the drums swelled to a heart-pounding crescendo, then stopped
suddenly as Skye leaped impossibly high into the air, his body arched, his
arms flung over his head. For a brief moment, it seemed as if he might keep
rising, but gravity exerted its hold, and the drummers thumped the drum one
last time as Skye's feet touched the earth once more. The reverberation of
the final beat still thrummed in the air as Skye raised his eyes, found me
in the crowd, and gave me the same slow, smoldering smile he'd given me in
the Dairy Queen that day. He stayed in the center of the circle until the
applause began to die out, then walked directly towards me. He ducked under
the rope and stood in front of me, breathing heavily. He was too close for
my comfort, so close I could feel his body heat rolling off of him like
steam. I tried to keep my eyes on his face, but his glistening chest
heaving only inches away kept drawing my eyes south.

	"You didn't clap," he said.

	I blinked several times. "Sorry?"

	"Was I that bad?"

	"No!" I gasped. "You were incredible." I bit the inside of my cheek
when I heard the awed tone in my voice.

	He grinned. "You really think so?"

	I nodded.

	"Come on," he said with a jerk of his head. "I need something to
drink after that."

	I followed him as he made his way towards one of the food booths,
but our progress was slow as people kept stopping him to compliment him on
his dancing. We finally made it to the booth and he bought a bottle of
water. The smell of the fry bread was enough to distract me from Skye
momentarily. Skye, of course, noticed right away.

	"You want anything?" he asked.

	"No, I'm okay," I said quickly.

	"Have you ever had fry bread before?"

	I shook my head no.

	"Oh man, you've got to try it." He ordered a piece of fry bread,
and a steaming plate was handed over.

	"What do you want on it?" Skye asked, moving towards a small table
set up to one side. It held an assortment of toppings: powdered sugar,
honey, and jellies.

	"I don't know. Just fix it how you usually do," I said shyly.

	He poured on some honey then dusted it liberally with the powdered
sugar. "Follow me," he said, once he had it garnished to his liking. He led
me a short distance from the hubbub to a picnic table that was lightly
screened from the rest of the park area by a small stand of trees. He sat
down on one side and patted the bench next to him. I obediently sat to his
right. He tore off a piece of the bread and popped it in his mouth.

	"You've really never had this before?" he asked.

	"No," I answered shortly. It was all I could manage. For some
reason, my heart was hammering at my chest like it wanted out. It left me
feeling tense, as if I sensed something was about to happen but didn't know
what.

	"You're going to love it," he said as his eyes locked with mine. He
tore off another chunk of bread and deliberately lifted it to my
lips. Without thinking, I parted my lips and he slipped the piece into my
mouth. It was incredibly sensual and I felt a stirring in my pants. I
chewed automatically as he brought his fingers to his own lips and licked
off the sugar and honey, his eyes never leaving mine for a second. I almost
forgot to swallow.

	"What do you think?" he asked after a moment.

	"Huh?"

	His mouth twitched. "About the fry bread."

	"Oh, uh..." I hadn't even tasted it. "It was good."

	He grinned knowingly. "Want more?"

	I nodded.

	Before I could reach for it myself, he'd broken off another piece
and fed it to me. I was achingly hard by now and desperately hoping that
Skye wouldn't look down at my lap. I made a point to actually taste the
bread this time and found it really was quite good. It reminded me a bit of
the funnel cakes I'd had at carnivals as a kid, but better.

	"So Lily Snyder is your aunt?" he asked, startling me with the
suddenness of the question.

	"Yeah," I answered softly.

	"And you've never had fry bread before?"

	"This is my first time at a powwow."

	His eyes grew wide with surprise. "But don't you live around here?"

	"Yeah."

	"How can you be local and Lily Snyder's nephew and never have gone
to a powwow?"

	I shrugged. "My parents don't really get along with Lily and they
never took me to a powwow. They're pretty religious."

	"So?" He frowned. "What's that got to do with anything? It's not
like we're out here worshipping the devil. We worship the same God. I even
go to church...sometimes."

	I shrugged again. I didn't have the answers and even if I did, I
didn't feel like defending my parents.

	"So your parents don't know you're here?" he asked after a minute.

	"Nope," I said.

	He grinned. "Cool. The crossing guard is a rebel."

	I flushed again at the reminder of our first meeting.

	The grin vanished in a blink and he was all earnest sincerity. "Hey
look, I'll stop teasing you about that if you'll explain what it was all
about."

	I shook my head no.

	"Come on. It's been driving me crazy ever since it happened. I've
almost gone down to the Dairy Queen and asked you a couple times. Ebony, my
friend who was with me that day, thinks I'm being stupid and it's only
because you're so cute..." My blush deepened at that. "...but that's not
it. Or at least it's not all of it. I felt something really weird that day
when I was looking into your eyes."

	I looked away now and shook my head again. "I can't," I whispered.

	"Why not?"

	"I don't even understand what happened."

	He watched me for a minute, then seemed to decide that I was
telling him the truth. "Then why don't you tell me what happened and maybe
we can figure it out together."

	A tingle went up my spine at the word 'together' and suddenly I did
want to tell him. "I...after you left...I thought I saw you get hit by a
car." The expression on his face froze as I spoke the words. "When I ran
outside though, you, uh, you weren't even near the road. I was really
confused, but then you started backing towards the road just like I thought
I'd seen you do a few seconds before, so I yelled for you to stop. And then
the car that I'd just seen hit you drove by." I shuddered at the
memory. The drums stopped behind us and Skye sat staring at me
expressionlessly in the sudden hush. I started to babble to fill the
silence. "I know, it sounds stupid. I shouldn't have even told you. Now you
probably think I'm some sort of freak. I'll just go." I stood to leave, but
Skye's hand shot out and caught me by the wrist, pulling me gently back
down.

	"You really don't have any idea, do you?" he said in a quiet voice.

	"About what?"

	He shook his head slightly, almost to himself. "Never mind," he
said, his voice so soft I almost couldn't hear him. He was looking at me
differently now, with a new respect. He smiled suddenly.

	"What?" I asked defensively.

	"You just look so cute sitting there with that powdered sugar on
your lips."

	I swiped at my mouth, but his smile just grew. "You missed." I
wiped again. "Missed again. Here. I'll get it."

	He leaned slowly towards me. I knew what he was about to do and
wasn't at all sure I wanted him to, but at the same time, I seemed unable
to move. His lips met mine and for a moment, we were kissing. Then I
snapped out of whatever spell I'd fallen under and jerked away.

	"I'd better go find Lily," I gasped as I leaped up. I was breathing
as heavy as if I'd just finished a marathon. "She's probably looking for
me," I gibbered as I backed slowly away. "There's someone she wants me to
meet. It was nice meeting you and thanks for the fry bread. It was really
good." Skye just watched me make my ungraceful exit with a half smile on
his lips. "Bye," I blurted as I spun around and practically ran away.

	"I'll see you later," he called after me.

	I threw myself back into the crowd, which had thinned out
significantly since I'd first arrived but was still large enough to lose
myself in. As I walked, scanning the faces for Lily, I tried to calm myself
down. That was easier said than done since I could still feel his lips
pressed against mine.

	It doesn't mean anything, I told myself forcefully. He kissed you,
you didn't kiss him. My argument would have carried more weight if I'd
resisted a little more or liked it a little less. I'm not gay. I'd been
attracted to plenty of girls over the years, both physically and
emotionally. I'd never even looked at guys...before now. The problem was,
if I was honest with myself, I had to admit that I was more attracted to
Skye than anyone I'd ever met. Did that make me gay?

	I was so caught up in my thoughts that I almost walked right into
Lily.

	"There you are!" she said, grabbing me by the shoulders. "I've been
looking all over for you. Where've you been?"

	"I was with Skye," I said. I couldn't read the expression that
flickered across her face, but I quickly explained. "After he danced he
bought me fry bread because I'd never had it before."

	"That was nice of him," she said carefully. "Jacy..." she started,
then stopped.

	"What?" I asked.

	"Just...be careful with Skye."

	I tried hard not to reveal anything with my face. "What do you
mean?"

	She paused and seemed to be thinking about her next words. "Just
that Skye is a very...compelling person. He's a good kid, but...Oh, just be
careful, okay?"

	"I don't understand, but I'm always careful."

	She looked over at me and gave me a sad smile. "Yeah, I can believe
that. Well, come on. The person I want you to meet is still here." She set
off at a purposeful pace and hurried to keep up. She expertly maneuvered
through the crowd, leading me to a small booth with a hand-lettered sign
hanging in front: Handmade Soaps, Essential Oils, Teas, and Herbal
Remedies. A white-haired old man sat behind a table laden with the
advertised products. Another table at the back of his tent was stacked high
with books. He was talking to a customer as we approached and it gave me a
chance to study him. He looked to be in his seventies, his face weathered
by time into creased leather. His hair was long and he wore it pulled back
into a single braid and tied with bright red strips of cloth. Unruly white
eyebrows created deep shadows across his dark eyes, which still looked as
sharp as a hawk's. His hands were steady and looked strong as he accepted
the customer's money and handed them their purchase, several small brown
vials that I guessed to be essential oils. Business taken care of, he
turned to look at us with a gentle smile.

	"Hello again Lily," he said. His voice was warm and kind. I felt
myself liking him instinctively. "Would I be correct in guessing that this
young man is Jacy?"

	"You would," she said with a smile. I could tell she was genuinely
fond of the old man. "Jacy, I'd like to introduce you to Fletcher Snyder."

	Snyder? That was Lily's last name. I looked back and forth between
Lily and the older man, trying to figure out the connection. Or was it just
a coincidence? As far as I knew, Lily had never been married, but I wasn't
sure. Now that I thought about it though, she must have been or else her
last name would have been Allen. So maybe this man was her father-in-law.

	Lily watched my face carefully. "This is my father," she said
softly, still watching my face.

	I closed my eyes as my head swirled. I opened them again and looked
squarely at Lily. "What?" I asked, thinking maybe I'd misunderstood.

	"This is my father."

	"But Grandpa Allen..."

	"Grandpa Allen was my stepfather."

	I shook my head, trying hard to understand. "But that means..." I
turned to the old man.

	He nodded, still smiling gently. "I'm your grandfather."

To be continued...

---------------------------------------

More about the author:

Josh Aterovis, a twenty-something artist-author, was born and bred on the
Eastern Shore of Maryland and lives there with his partner, Jon. Aterovis
is a Latin pseudonym meaning "black sheep."

Whenever anyone asked Josh what he wanted to be when he grew up, he always
said an author. It got him plenty of strange looks, but he never really
expected it to come true; it was just one of those things a kid says. In
1999, Josh's wishful dream became reality when he began to write a story
and post it on the Internet. Bleeding Hearts resonated deeply with readers,
who encouraged him to seek publication, and in 2001, the story was
published by Renaissance Alliance Publishing, Inc. Named the Best Whodunit
of 2002 by the Stonewall Society, Bleeding Hearts became the first book in
the Killian Kendall mystery series.

Reap the Whirlwind, his second book featuring amateur sleuth Killian
Kendall, was published in May of 2003. Josh has completed four books in the
series and is currently working on the fifth. He has won numerous awards
for his writing and for his web site, which also features his well-received
art gallery: www.steliko.com/bleedinghearts.

Email feedback to Aterovis@comcast.net