The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents) (14 page)

“What the fuck?” Sheen yelled. I knew what they were thinking. They were wondering what in the hell was a sports car like that doing here. They probably were also thinking about how in the hell we were going to get that car out of the mud without some serious help. I just shook my head and Kanoke laughed. Because I was wondering the same damn thing myself.

“Did she ask you if you turned into a werewolf?” Kanoke asked. We all hated that damn Twilight story. Ever since those fucking books and movies came out, we got hella tourist up here. They would ask all these dumb ass questions like; have you ever seen a real life werewolf or are vampires real and does your tribe hate them? We would just ignore them just like how I was ignoring Kanoke now. As soon as we got to the car, they both started cursing and fussing in Umallupi.

“How in the fuck did she get so stuck? I mean common fucking sense should have told her to stop and just shut the fucking car off,” Kanoke fussed. I hated speaking in our native tongue in front of non-native people.

“I told her.”

They just shook their heads at the woman and the car. We all maneuvered around the back of the car trying to get a good grip on it. Once we felt secure, I yelled over the trunk.

“Go!”

The car stalled for a second and then moaned and groaned a little as it tried to straighten.

“Stop!” I yelled over the trunk again. We got better grips and then we were ready for the next attempt.

“Go!”

The car jerked and the tires spun this go around.

“Stop!” I yelled again. I knew one more shifting should do it. We all got ready. We were covered in mud from our waists down, and our hands were slick. It was hard to find a good place to grip.

“Okay, again,” I told her in an even tone. She followed directions even though she hadn’t when I left her here. But I realized she was scared and didn’t know what I was going to do. She gunned it again, and the car spun before finally working its way out of the mud and gliding onto the road. We stepped away and I looked underneath to make sure none of the pipes were clogged. Everything seemed to look alright. The guys walked back across the road and I walked back over to the driver’s side. This woman didn’t belong here and she needed to leave. One of the other guys on the Res might not have been as nice as I was. I was about to knock on her window again to get her attention, but she was staring across the road at the guys. She pushed some buttons from the inside and both windows rolled down and the top came down. She yelled over the roof of the car at the guys.

“Thank You.”

Just then I felt the stickiness of the mud on my shirt against my skin. I pulled the shirt off because that was a nasty feeling.

“Do you think you can find your way out now?” I asked her as I wiped my muddy hands on the balled-up shirt.

She didn’t say anything, so I looked up from my hands and stared into the most alluring chestnut eyes I’d ever seen. She gawked at me like she was trying to talk to me with her eyes. Her mouth opened slightly before she closed it. Her lips looked soft as clouds and so luscious. I’ve never seen lips that looked that soft before. I wanted to touch them, just to see how they felt to the skin. I took in a deep breath and smelt the sweetest fragrance. It smelled like fresh laundry and then something a little sweet. She was staring me up and down; her eyes were wide, and she had a dumbfounded look on her face. Her fingernails were polished chocolate brown, and she gripped her fingers on her steering wheel. She squirmed a little in her leather seats. She squinted her eyes and sucked her lips into her mouth, acting as though she had something to say but didn’t want to say it. I shook off her strange behavior and focused.

“Now you need to leave. You people act as though you can’t read the sign that says, ‘Private Property.’ You do not belong here and you’re not welcome.”

She looked up at me in shock.

“If your kind would just read the signs,” I mumbled under my breath. Her eyes went all crazy and I stepped back a little.

“My kind!” she yelled. I watched her carefully as my mind started running through what I just said. Had I called her a bitch or something by accident? No, I hadn’t. I very rarely used that word, and I know I wouldn’t have said it to this face. This woman was beautiful, and I would never say such an ugly word to her. Wait, did I just say beautiful? I never use that word either. But she was beautiful. Her caramel skin was a couple shades darker than mine. But our skin colors complemented each other’s. She had long soft curls; I just wanted to run my fingers through her hair. And those chocolate brown nails…I wanted her fingers all over me. I wanted those nails tracing against my skin and digging into my back. I wanted her neck and head to fall back as I thrust inside of her. I wanted to hear her moan and wanted to see the face she made when she orgasm. My heart started pounding in my chest and then out of nowhere, my dick jerked, and I felt blood rushing through it. What the hell was wrong with me? My dick was hard and I haven’t even touched her yet.

Wait, I needed to focus right now. She was pissed about something I said. What the fuck did I just say? Okay, I told her she needed to leave and I told her that “her people”…wait, and I told her that “her kind”…oh shit! That sounded really racist. Oh fuck, she thought I was racist against the color of her skin. Oh sweet beautiful goddess, how could I be racist of your skin when we almost share the exact same color? I had to fix this with her. I didn’t want her thinking this about me.

“Wait that came out wrong,” I told her with pleading eyes. That did not help me at all. She let go of the steering wheel and laid into me with her words. Her hands started flying all over the place.

“I read the
Twilight
series a long time ago; and since I had moved here, I wanted to come and see what the town and reservation life was all about. I wasn’t impressed by what I saw. When I gassed up at the station, the attendant told me about this place. I came here and I liked it. I know this particular area wasn’t in the books or movies, but I wanted to see it anyway.”

She took a big breath and started getting teary eyed and my chest swelled. My heart was pounding faster and my hard-on was gone. I felt like shit for making her tear up. I was pissed at myself now. I was making this amazing woman upset.

“It started pouring in like two and a half seconds and I couldn’t get to the car fast enough. A semi ran me off the road and I knocked down someone’s mailbox. The house had the number twenty-four on it, and it was back on the main highway. I’m not the type of person to just do a hit and run, so I wanted to pay for it; but I got lost. And then I got stuck in this stupid mud.”

She really started wailing now and I didn’t know what to do. She was absolutely beautiful and I would do anything to see her smile. I wanted to wipe her tears away, but my hands were filthy. And in the mood she was in right now, the last I needed to do was touch her. Touching her right now would be very very bad. I kept silently, repeating that to my twitching hand.

“I just moved to the PNW and I freaking hate it and fucking hate you too!”

She was pissed at me. Why couldn’t I get a freaking…oh, yeah...she thinks I’m the racist Indian.

“You’re a God dammed racist; you fucking psycho, and fuck you!” she screamed at me.

I heard a door shut across the road and I saw my mom and sister watching us. I noticed a few others had stepped outside their houses as well. This wasn’t good. That’s all I needed: another woman saying horrible things about me. She snapped out of her rage all of a sudden and blinked a few times.

“Do you know the people whose mailbox I knocked down? I need to let them know I will pay for it and any damage I did to their yard,” she sounded sweet then; there was no rage in her voice now and that made me happy. I didn’t want to see her upset. Her cheeks were red and her tear-stained face reminded me of a child’s. Her chestnut eyes buried me. I smiled at her and I wanted to touch her face, her arms, her hands, and those juicy, succulent lips. And then just like a whip, all of her calmness was gone. She turned back into the raging bull from before.

“Do you know the fucking people in the little house?” she yelled at me again. I couldn’t resist it this time, she was too adorable.

“Yes, I do.” I laughed. And the calm before the storm came. She started taking in long hard breaths and it made me a little antsy.

“Well, if you’re done laughing at me, jackass, why don’t you tell me who the family is so I can contact them about the mailbox so that ‘My kind!’ can leave this warped world.”

“Hey, there’s no need to down the Res-”

She interrupted me. “No need? Did you really just say, ‘No need’?” You racist son-of-a-bitch…kiss my fat ass. I’m a minority just like you. Our skin is the same color almost and...you know what? Screw this and screw you! Where is the closest police station?”

“Ma’am, I’m real sorry if I offended you; but I really didn’t mean it like that. I was only trying to help you--”

“POLICE STATION!” she interrupted.

I couldn’t think of what to say. I didn’t want her to leave like this; all pissed off and thinking I’m a racist and shit. She wouldn’t even look at me anymore; she just stared out the front window.

I leaned over into her car a little and that sweet smell of hers hit me smack dead in the face. I looked her over and I could see clear down her shirt. She had huge tits and her black bra was peek-a-booing out of her V-neck shirt that was sticking to her body. Her nipples were hard, and I could see them clear through her bra and shirt. Her jeans were tight and they hugged her curves. I bet she had a lot of curves. I’d like to bite and suck each and every one of them. I leaned in even closer and she gripped the steering wheel more tightly. I wanted her to look at me; just for a second. And when she gave me that second, I would kiss her long and hard. But she never looked up at me; she wouldn’t even give me a side glance.

“There is a ranger station three miles up to the left,” I told her softly, still waiting for that glance or maybe a change in her body. She dropped one of her hands and put the car in drive and sped off. I just lifted my hands that were resting on her window seal. All she left behind was mud and her sweet scent. I watched the back of her car until the lights were gone, and then I walked across the road.

“Lil Sampson, what the hell is going on over there?” I heard Roan, one of my neighbors ask.

“A woman was stuck in the mud,” I shook my head and just kept walking over into my yard.

“Damn women drivers,” Roan said.

“Give me those clothes so I can put them in the wash,” Mom told me. I stripped out of my boots and jeans. The guys had their clothes piled up on the ground by the door. I stood there in my boxers, gathering up their clothes and mine. I walked over to my mom’s front door and handed her the clothes.

“Who was the crazy bitch in the car?” Mom asked me.

“She was lost and then got stuck in the mud.”

“Why was she screaming at you?” she asked. Patty walked over and I hugged her and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

“I insulted her,” I admitted.

Patty laughed. “Oh no, not Mr. Suave; who’d of thunk it.”

I looked at her as we both laughed. I wasn’t good with words and I was constantly saying something that pissed someone off. Females mostly, I just wasn’t good with the opposite sex. That’s what Zedd is trying to correct in me. I knew how I could have handled that situation better, but there was something about her. I lost everything I’d learned from Zedd. I was drowning. Elle wasn’t like other girls. She was more of a tomboy. She didn’t wear makeup and she didn’t dress like the lady in the sports car. And she never smelled that damn good before either. Elle didn’t smell, but she never smelled like that. The lady in the sports car smelled fresh and clean.

When I made it back into my house, the guys were all sitting on the couch in my clothes. I didn’t care; we shared stuff like that. We were all about the same size, give or take a jean size or two. I went over to the wall phone and called the Ranger’s Station. I wanted to give them a fair warning on what was to come.

“Ranger’s Station, this is J.P.”

“J.P., this is Little Sampson. Is Karen or Charlotte in?”

“Charlotte is. Hold on just a sec.”

“Char, phone,” he yelled.

A couple of heartbeats later, she answered. “This is Charlotte.”

“Charlotte, this is Lil Sampson up at the Res.”

“Well, hello there, Lil Sampson. How’s Big Sampson doing?”

“Oh same, ole same ole. Listen, I wanted to give you heads up. There’s a lady coming up there. She knocked down Sal Greene’s mailbox and she wants to report it. Now since it’s still wet and muddy, me and some of the guys are about to go over there and put it back up. Now she’s all in a tizzy about it, so let her give you her information so she’ll calm down.”

“Well, what is she all in a tizzy about? It’s just a damn mailbox.”

“I kind of upset her and now she thinks I’m a racist.”

“What?”

“I used the words, ‘you people’ and ‘your kind.’”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“She’s Black, Charlotte.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Now, Lil Sampson, you can’t say those types of things to Black people. It is kind of racist because they’ve been singled out their whole existence; just like us,” Charlotte was Native just like me. She wasn’t from my reservation, but she was still native.