Falling From the Sky (6 page)

“Well, I didn’t have enough tickets to get both of you something, and Ridge needed some good luck,” he explains. “So I gave him the rabbit’s foot. But he really needs it to win his basketball games this summer.”

I convince myself that he’s only saying that to give Abby and Jade a simple “little kid” explanation. But deep down, I wonder if I really suck so badly that I need a damn lucky rabbit’s foot to help me. He wouldn’t know. He hasn’t seen me play…unless my penny jump shot was really that awful.

“I love them,” Abby says in all seriousness. “I have a whole buncha them that Uncle Mike gave me.”

“He had to kill a lot of rabbits then, huh?” I ask her.

I smile so she’ll hopefully know I’m kidding with her. My version of funny and a five-year-old’s version obviously differ because her eyes widen, and widespread panic absorbs her face.

“Uncle Mike said they all died of old age and went to animal heaven,” she says.

“They did,” I quickly agree. “I was just kidding. They actually go through a salon too, and they tell them what color fur they want. Then they send their old feet back to earth as good luck charms because they get new feet in animal heaven that make them run faster.”

That’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever said. Even the bullshit stories I tell Jordan aren’t that bad. I jab my fork back into the plate of noodles and stuff my mouth so I won’t have to say anything else, especially about the rabbits.

“Uncle Mike didn’t tell me that part. That’s cool,” Abby says.

She stuffs her mouth with a hush puppy, and from the look of her bulging cheeks, it’ll be a minute or two before she can speak again.

Micah hasn’t said a word. By the smirk on his face, I can only imagine the stupid things he’s thinking about me right now. He hands his plate to Zoey as she heads to the kitchen.

Jade stares at me again in that awkward, dissecting-me-in-her-head kind of way that I hate.

“Do you live in a real house or a house like Micah’s?” she asks once her mom is out of the room. She says it in a low voice, so I get the feeling she’s not supposed to ask that.

“Micah lives in a real house,” I say in the same low voice.

“No, he doesn’t,” she argues. “He lives in an Indian house, not a real house.”

Micah sighs and leans back against the couch. This must not be the first time he’s gone through this.

“My house looks a little different on the outside, but it’s kind of the same,” I tell her. “It has a living room, kitchen, bedrooms, the whole deal.”

“My house is brick,” Jade replies. Her hand flies to her mouth, like if she covers it, the words won’t go any farther than my ears.

Zoey crosses her arms in the doorway. “Jade, what have I told you? Micah’s house is just like everyone else’s. It’s just on a reservation, and ours is in the city.”

She looks over to her brother. “I’m sorry, Micah.”

Micah just shrugs as if it’s no big deal. His face says that he’s bothered, but I don’t think he’d dare tell his sister that something bothers him, especially something a little kid says.

Jade jumps at an attempt at redemption. “I like him better than Taylor.”

“Bring me your plate and go outside!” Zoey yells. “Abby, you too.”

Both girls scramble to their feet and hand their mostly-empty plates over to their mom. Then they rush out the front door, leaving me sitting on the floor with Micah. This is actually becoming ridiculous. It’s that giant elephant in the middle of the room that everyone knows is there, including me, but no one dares speak of. But this elephant really stands out, like a toxic green elephant who was rejected by the freak show. And unlike most unmentioned elephants sitting in living rooms, this one has a name – Taylor.

I grab my own plate and follow Zoey’s path into the kitchen. She tells me I can just leave the plate in the sink and disappears before I can say anything to her. Micah appears in her place, though.

“I need to be honest with you about something,” he says as soon as I turn around. “Can we talk?”

I pray this is the elephant talk and follow him into his bedroom. I close the door behind us and lean back against it, just in case this goes badly and I need to run. It’s always nice to know your escape route.

“I just want you to hear it from me instead of Jade because she gets the wrong idea about things, and I don’t want her to freak you out,” he explains.

I hate to tell him, but I’m already freaked out. Micah paces the room and avoids eye contact with me.

“Okay, so Taylor, my ex,” he says. “Taylor was...”

Now I know it’s about to get bad because he can’t even say it. I could say it and pretend I’m just guessing and relieve him from having to go through telling me, but I can’t speak. Micah stops in front of his dresser and braces himself against it with both hands, staring at the carpet.

“Taylor’s a guy. He’s my ex-boyfriend.” His eyes never leave the carpet.

I don’t know what’s appropriate to ask, and I don’t want to give off homophobic vibes by asking the wrong things too soon because I’ve always thought I was pretty open-minded.

“Are you freaked out yet?” he asks. He slowly brings his head up and looks toward me.

“No,” I say.

I’m half-serious and half trying-to-convince-myself-I’m-not-freaked-out. I’m actually pretty numb to any real feelings right this second.

He reaches up to the mirror and pulls the flamingo picture out. I step away from the door and remind myself to pretend like I’ve never seen it before.

“I burned all of his other pictures,” Micah says. “But this one was always my favorite.”

He hands it to me, and I study it again. My early assumption about them looking too friendly to be just friends was right on target.

“So you’re into guys?” I figure this is better than the obvious ‘Are you gay?’ question that I really want to ask.

“Well, I can be,” he says. He takes the picture back and tucks it behind Abby and Jade’s photo. Then he walks over to his bed and sits. “It sounds complicated, but it’s really not.”

I don’t want to look too curious or eager, but it would be really hard to lie and say I don’t want to know.

“Try me,” I tell him as I sit next to him.

“Okay. You asked for it,” he warns. “The thing is, I hate labels. All labels. Race, gender, sexuality, all of it. I don’t see color or gender or gay, straight, bi, whatever.”

I bite down on the corner of my lip and try to process the words as he speaks, but he really isn’t making sense. He can say the words, but how do you not see color or gender? Is this supposed to be some kind of ‘free love’ bullshit or something? I mean, I don’t judge Terrence by his skin color, but I can’t look at him and
not
see that he’s a black dude. I can’t look at Samantha and
not
see that she’s totally a chick.

Micah continues explaining.

“Like, when I meet someone, I try to wait until I know them before I place any judgment. And when I fall in love, I fall in love with who someone is, not the fact that it’s a guy or girl or whatever, you know?” he asks, like this is normal.

He talks with his hands, which turns out to be a good thing because they distract me. I don’t feel the pressure to make eye contact.

“But things with Taylor ended pretty bad,” he says. “I don’t have a lot of friends because of stuff that happened with him. You know, rumors and drama. Abby and Jade get the wrong idea that if I bring someone around here, like I’m automatically dating them – guy or girl.”

I highly doubt Micah ever brings a girl around here. The little remarks from Jade, and the almost-remark from Pax, were comparing me to Taylor because they assume I’m the new boyfriend. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

“Have you ever brought a girl around for them to assume was your girlfriend?” I ask, although I’m sure I already know the answer.

Micah hesitates and looks away. “Well, no, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

The hell it doesn’t. It’s cool – I get it. Micah likes guys. Why can’t he just accept it himself?

“I told them that we’re just friends, though,” Micah says. “I’ve made it very clear, I promise. So no one is going to think anything, but if it bothers you, I’ll understand. And you don’t have to hang out with me if you really don’t want to. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

He’s wrong. People already think something. Jade. Abby. Pax. And it’ll only be a matter of minutes before other people on the reservation label me as Taylor’s replacement. I’m starting to hate labels now too.

Micah is also lying. It’s in his voice. He’ll be offended and hurt if I bail on him now. Then he’d probably blame his family’s assumptions, and they’ll all hate me because I’m the reason Micah is mad at them. He just said he doesn’t have many friends, so then he’ll just bottle up all those feelings of rejection, and in some way, it will be my fault.

“Nah, we’re cool,” I tell him.

I don’t know why I say it. I’m not really uncomfortable, but at the same time, I don’t feel like we’re cool.

But it’s not like I have anyone else to hang out with this summer.

“You’re sure?” Micah asks. “I don’t want things to get weird.”

Dude, it’s already weird.

“Okay, let’s just put it all on the table,” I say. “Do you think I’m hot?”

Micah bursts out laughing, and I’m actually relieved.

“Well, you’re not exactly ugly or anything,” he says. “But for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t make a move on you, even if I thought you were the hottest guy alive. I know you have a girlfriend, and you’re not into guys. It’s cool. We can still kill zombies, you know?”

The atmosphere is light when we join the others outside. No one bothers to acknowledge us, but no one gives us an awkward stare either, which suits me just fine. The only tension is in my head. It’s quieter outside than it was earlier tonight. Everyone lingers around the bonfire.

Micah and I grab two lawn chairs and plant them near the fire. His grandfather sits on a stool carved from a tree trunk. We haven’t been formally introduced, but he looks like a fierce leader, and frankly, I’m intimidated. Micah’s cousins join the circle, and Zoey ushers Abby and Jade over to two small plastic chairs.

The orange flames rise and fall in front of me. The fire reflects in the eyes of everyone around us, and I wonder if anyone else is as warm as I am. If they are, they’re not showing it. Maybe it’s just a white guy thing. I’m sure I look even more out of place than I feel.

“Poppa B tells the same stories all the time, but Abby and Jade never get tired of them,” Micah warns me. “You’re a first-timer, though, so you probably won’t mind.”

With that, Micah unwraps a stick of blue rock candy and proceeds to seductively pull it in and out of his mouth. I guess he assumes he’s in the clear to practice blow jobs in public with me now. I can’t watch.

I hope somewhere in his stories, Poppa B explains the premise behind loving a person and not a label. I guess I get where Micah is coming from in theory, but it’s just a hard concept to grasp. It’s like the cafeteria back at school. Everyone bitches about everyone else segregating themselves by race or cliques, but hell, we all do it anyway. It doesn’t change, and it’s not going to change, and one person like Micah isn’t going to make a difference just because he hates labels. He needs to lose his “save the world” kind of dreams. It’s a harsh world. He can’t save it.

The flicker of the fire lights up Poppa B’s face as he leans in and begins to tell about the beginning of the Jocolnu tribe. The first story is similar to the folktale of a boy raised by wolves, but Jocolnu legends say it was a pack of bears, and the boy was a Native American. According to Poppa B, the boy wandered too far into the woods, joined a family of bears in a den, and many years later, was discovered by local tribes, none of whom could handle the boy and his “outrageous behavior.” But in true fairytale style, the boy overcame his raising, found a beautiful girl, and began his own tribe right here in Bear Creek territory. Today, they are known as the Jocolnu. I won’t allow myself to think it’s silly (even if it may be). It’s their culture, their history, their lives. And it’s better than anything my ancestors would say. After all, it was the white men who stole land and spread diseases to the natives.

The bear is the focal point of all of Poppa B’s stories. There’s one about a tribe of native men who fasted for seven days and turned into bears to provide food for other tribes. Then there’s the story about an Indian dance that is performed from dusk until the last ember burns of the bonfire. The dance is supposed to lull the bears into their winter hibernation. And the story about native chiefs returning as bear spirits after their earthly deaths actually creeps me out a little bit because I can truly see Poppa B returning as a bear. I take back any thoughts I had of his stories being silly. They’re actually really cool. Fuck the pilgrims.

I’m a little sad when Poppa B retreats to his house for the night. He stopped before telling about the legends of the undead. Micah swears that Poppa B always stops before getting to the details, which Micah hates because if his tribe has a link to zombies, that boy will be all over it. Abby and Jade run around, using up their last bits of energy, and throw a Frisbee with Pax and Micah. It lands behind a cooler, and I hurl it back to them.

This time I can’t stop the four letter words from flying. I bite into my lip, but Zoey already knows something is wrong.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah. Just pulled a muscle at camp,” I say. “It’ll get better.” God, I hope it gets better.

“Have you taken anything for it?” she asks.

“Pain reliever.”

“Go to bed,” Zoey says. “I’ll tell Micah you were tired from basketball practice. He’ll understand.”

“Good night,” I tell her almost immediately.

CHAPTER SIX

A graffiti sky looks down on me when I open my eyes. I’m alone in Micah’s bed. I don’t even remember falling asleep. Did he sleep in here last night too? There’s no way I overdosed on Tylenol and passed out. Or maybe I did?

I force myself to sit up. A sharp burn rushes through my shoulder. It ignites into a bursting flame when I reach across the bed for the piece of paper on the other pillow.