Chapter 1. Tomahawks And Other Thoughts

I drove myself to the airport with the windows up and the heater on. Hell, excuse me, I meant Arizona, had dropped to a glacial 75 degrees and I was responding with my only available power. Air Conditioning. I had a jacket on the seat next to me shoved into my carry on backpack but I didn't want to wear it until I had to. It would have clashed horribly with my cute summery top anyways. It was a white ¾ sleeve t-shirt that had a super cute, glittery watermelon on it next to a glass of lemonade with the caption under it reading "Chill. It's summer."

#Fabulous.

Anyways my mother would have been here to drive me to the airport but we can never agree on what music to play, or whether the windows should be up or down, or how far I was over the speed limit, or if my hair was okay, and also if I should be driving or if she should be driving. I am seventeen years old. I am the most responsible seventeen year old I have ever met and if I had the means I would have gifted myself an Audi Cooper a long time ago for good behavior. The plan was that while my mom went on a lunch date with the ex NFL football player which afterwards they were going to come get the car. That way I would have some chill time without my mom before I got on my flight and played Native American relaxation music while I tried to fall asleep on the plane.

Another thing my mom and I can't agree on, which I thought about as I saw a Camaro roaring down the freeway just past me, is if she should marry a 6 foot tall black guy with tattoos all the way up and down his arms, whose name was Jerome but he went by JJ. He owned two Camaros and they purred like panthers, just like the car that passed me. My fingers beat a taboo on the steering wheel as I signaled to switch lanes, looking back. I mean, we both know he's a good guy but she's worried it would be awkward for me. How can it be? I'm half Navajo because of her. I have lighter skin than most but I like it, it's kind of a tan brown and it's actually super pretty. Because of some strange genetic disconnect my hair is also a dark black with red undertones that bleaches red brown in the summer from tennis- it's also curly. I have gorgeous brown eyes, and I look very Navajo. I rarely pass for Hispanic and that is fine by me.

Being half white is my worst curse. I've never been hated on for being half Navajo, but at my old high school it was for being half white. I'm glad she's dating a huge black guy, so when people come up to me and say "Who's your daddy?" I can show them a picture of JJ and say "Do I need to make a call or are you gonna be nice? That's what I thought."

No really, I'm a very happy person. Considering I come from a broken home and have serious issues with accepting my white half I'm doing great. My mom left the reservation and a very poor family by getting some scholarship for being Navajo and working her butt off to get into a college somewhere in Washington. Then somehow she met Charlie, a white man aiming to be a police officer. They fell in love. They got married when she was very young and both had just barely graduated. Charlie got a job in Forks, Washington, and they moved there.

Then sometime after I was born, something went drastically wrong.

I guess my mom, who has always lived in Arizona heat and was born with what my grandmother calls "the spirit of a Navajo" makes her nomadic by birth, she can't just stay in one building, in one place, and live there too long. She hates the caged feeling it gives her not being able to get out and travel. To her, being free means you can drop everything and move again. So therefore I've lived on the rez and off the rez until she finally made a deal to settle off the rez for four years so I could go to a better high school away from some of the crazy in rez high schools. That went well. I got good grades, ran track, played tennis, and was happy with my life. And actually mom has been stable. She seems to have finally found her place and she likes JJ, having her own house, and having a stable job and a stable daughter.

But lately my mom and I have been talking about college and that's what led to my leaving for Charlie's for my junior year. We needed time away from each other. Probably because even though my mom and I are opposite personalities I share the same tendency towards wandering. I can't stay inside my house. I can sleep there. I can do my homework. And then I have to get out. It has become absolutely intolerable for me to stay in the house alone with my mother because we start to fight. Never before has it been this bad but finally I called up my father who I hadn't seen since I was fourteen and said I was coming to live with him junior year. That was a rather spectacular fight and a rather dramatic end to the battle.

I arrived at the airport early and had all my baggage ready to go, aka one backpack, and one suitcase. I skimp on everything but makeup and sports equipment. Unfortunately I had no idea what kind of sports equipment would even work for me in Washington. Were there even tennis courts up there? I'd heard it was a small town but I hadn't felt comfortable calling Charlie to arrange what I would bring, a separation of three years will do that to you, so mom was to send me my sports stuff as situation required. Running I would still have. I was not giving that up.

My best hope was that there would be trails to run in Forks. Also it wouldn't be so hot that I'd have to carry a gallon of water in a camelback so I wouldn't get heatstroke out there. So there were some pros.

My phone rang as the plane was about to take off. Mom was freaking out about my leaving some item or other. I told her it was fine, not to panic, and told her to tell JJ I said hi. Then I hung up as she was saying something else about did I leave the stove on.

The answer was no. When I fry up some Mexican food right before heading to a place where I was sure they wouldn't have it, I do not burn the house down on my way out. I may have considered it, but I didn't. Yes. I did consider it. And yes I also turned the burner off. Airplane mode on the phone to protect the innocent.

The four hour flight to Seattle and then another layover flight to Port Angeles, and then came my driving to Charlie's house with him. He met me outside the airport. I ignored his outstretched arms and said

"Hey dad."

He understood the no physical contact rule and was reminded of it by the look on my face, so he immediately dropped his arms. It was the side effect of some summer or other when I was younger where he wanted to give me a hug and I said no. I said no because earlier that school year some guy had come up behind me and basically attacked me, despite my nearly taking his face off with a right hook as well as some other things, I was still not a very touchy person. There is nothing like having someone try and violate you that will teach you exactly what a physical gesture truly means to another person. So I didn't like to be touched. Still working on that.

"How have you been, Bella?"

He called me Bella because that's my American name which is like my middle name. My grandmother either calls me granddaughter or child but I preferred Haseya. On the rez people called me daughter or sister most of the time.

It wasn't like they didn't know my name, I guess most of the old folk had a lot of things about the English language they wanted to forget. I speak Navajo but only because of my grandmother. She insisted on it. My mother was hardly supportive because she grew up in one of those schools where they were punished for speaking the Navajo tongue and she has always been one to turn her back on the ways of the ancestors. She wouldn't allow me to have my womanhood ceremony and she avoided most cultural events. She was so on and off about it. Sometimes she'd be like "Embrace your heritage" and other times it was "We need to get off this rez. I can't live like this anymore." Not conflicted at all.

"Dad," I said "Can you please use my Navajo name? I haven't been Bella in years."

He shrugged "OK, whatever you want."

We got my bags into his police cruiser with no problem. I checked my phone to see what my friends were all up to. I was scheduled to skype with them and some government offshoot had bought me a nice laptop for school this year, so I could have ignored Charlie for an hour or so.

"So why the change?" Charlie asked "I thought you liked the name Bella?"

I liked the name Bella until I got caught behind the school by a bunch of Hispanics who razzed me about it. I don't know why they even cared because it was none of their business, but they were happy to do stupid impressions of white people speaking Spanish and getting spray tans, as well as some other less savory things. After that day I wasn't Bella anymore. I was Haseya.

"Not really." I said "My grandmother told me a name was an important part of reconnecting with my heritage."

Yeah. That heritage. Whatever that means, I'm connecting with it.

"Well. I was going to wait until we got back to the house." Charlie said "But I, uh, I bought you a car."

"A car?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Yeah, you remember the Blacks?"

"Blacks?" I asked, trying to work out who he was referring to.

"Billy Black and his two daughters, Rachel and Rebecca? And then his son Jacob?"

"Oh, them!" I said happily.

I remembered them all right. We used to go play all the time. Actually, correction, Jacob and I used to go play all the time in the woods. The girls usually wanted to play dolls. I usually wanted to go looking for wolves and bears.

Yep. I was the dang cutest child. Still am.

"So what do they have to do with a new car?" I asked

"I bought it off Billy, it's a pretty old car but it runs great." Charlie.

"Thanks, dad." I said.

I would have asked more but I was tired.

I was placating him by calling him dad. In my head he was Charlie due to lack of filial feelings but he preferred to be called dad for some reason. I often placate people, I'm extremely good at it. Charming, funny, charismatic. I have everything a girl could ask for except for the Bahamas and a boyfriend. I also occasionally get zits but that's life.

"You're welcome." He said.

And then he was quiet for the rest of the ride. When we got to my secondary house (or as I preferred to call it, the creepy doll house with yellow cabinets) he left me alone to unpack. He wore his boots all over the wood floor which made me cringe. As soon as I was home and he wasn't, I was cleaning that floor

Don't get me wrong. I adore mud. I love to play in mud, but I was raised not to wear shoes into the house. I left mine by the door in the mud closet. I also removed my socks because I wasn't planning on going anywhere. I walked those over to the laundry room to put in the hamper.

It was so nice to unpack my things without my mom breathing down my neck. Kind of eerie though. I unpacked my toiletries first because why not, my clothes could wait.

My makeup was all beautifully arrayed in plastic containers, sanitized and ready to go, and even though I knew it rained all the time I had packed it so I could wear it to school. That was because school was inside a building and I had my biohazard/rain gear so it wasn't likely to drip into zombie face with that kind of protection.

I was upset about the fact that I wouldn't get to use my flip flops around here very often. What is the point of having a beach if it's full of rocks and at glacial temperatures? I could lodge some very pointed complaints at the man upstairs if he wasn't capable of shooting down lightning bolts at THOSE WHO COMPLAIN.

Ahem. Rain was pouring everywhere, dashing against the windows, and I swallowed back tears. I missed my friends a ton all of the sudden and waiting until Friday to skype suddenly seemed like forever. Plus I'm a seventeen year old girl and we tend to be overdramatic. Charlie yelled my name, breaking my mournful mood.

"Bella!" He yelled "I mean, Haseya!"

"Yeah, dad?" I yelled back

"Billy Black says he wants to bring over some dinner for us, is that okay? They're also going to stay for dinner."

Dinner is always okay. In fact, dinner is better than okay. Dinner is my life.

"Yeah dad!" I said

He concluded his conversation with Billy and called up the stairs "He'll be here in about fifteen minutes or so. He's bringing his son, Jacob, with him."

Jacob? My old chum? Yes! I did a fist pump and went into my bathroom to check my makeup. For flights I like to do face masks, mainly to creep people out, but this time I hadn't and my makeup was made to last. Perfect complexion? Yes. Thank you BB cream. Long eyelashes. Thank you mascara. And a flushed bronze glow to my face thanks to an Estee Lauder blush.

Everything was perfect except my lips. I opened the plastic container containing my lipsticks and applied a melon shade that was a happy, bright shade. I looked like I just stepped out of the desert. I also had my hair braided in corn row braids in cool zig zag shapes that went back into a high, wild ponytail. I also liked to put feathers into my hair to accentuate Native American stereotypes for the future generations but I hadn't planned on seeing anyone but Charlie today.

I looked at myself in the mirror and blew a kiss at my reflection. Then I held my hands out to the side, palms up.

"I just want to take this time to say, that I am HOT." I flipped my hair and sashayed out of the bathroom.

Did I mention I'm a teenage girl? Yeah, well, let's revise that. I shall be referred to as QUEEN. Or Her Supreme Majesty. I'm not picky.

The doorbell rang and I ran down the stairs. I was excited to see what Jacob looked like all grown up. Opening the door after a brief dispute with the lock I saw Billy first, in a wheelchair, which was new.

Charlie had forgotten to apprise me of that detail. I assumed that like other things, like a new design on a rug, after a long time of newness, that thing becomes old and is no longer relevant. There was nothing anyone could do to change the fact that Billy had an accident and was now in the wheelchair so it was accepted as a fact of life and irrelevant to share the details again and make it all fresh. And yes, I do have thoughts that deep at very inconvenient moments. Billy held out his hand.

"Hello, Haseya." He said

I smiled

"You remember my name!" I exclaimed, shaking his hand.

Billy's eyes were lit up with a curiosity he tried to hide.

"Yes." He said. He was trying to work out why I had changed my name from Bella and I knew it, and I was not going to tell him. It's a story I myself would rather forget.

Behind him was a super tall boy. Jacob was about a year my junior but I tended to attract younger guys. I also looked far younger than my age. When I went through airport security on the way here, they thought I was a twelve year old. One of them lost a bet on it. I was used to it. When someone insists on wearing shirts with glittery watermelons on them…

"Is that Jacob or some hunk you picked up off the street?" I asked, arching my eyebrows.

Laughter burst out of Jacob like sunshine through the clouds. He tended to laugh more deep in his stomach, even as a boy. I remembered when he got his voice change how I insisted on putting my ear next to his stomach when he chuckled because of the vibrations. Of course when he pointed out that my nostrils fluted when I laughed that cute moment ended with my swift punch to his left shoulder, but I'm not the least bit miffed about it. Nope. Completely forgot it happened.

"Hey!" Jacob said "Can you help me get this old man over the threshold so I can go get dinner from the car?"

"Yeah, sure." I said. And from the front I lifted the arms of Billy's wheelchair over the threshold.

I hate to be narcissistic but I really love looking at the muscles in my arms when I pick things up. I am such a stud. I can't even handle it. Thanks to tennis and track and all the other madness I do, you can see tendons in my hands and you can actually see certain muscles moving in hard, lithe lines under that gorgeous tan skin. So I didn't look at Jacob until he got back with the dinner.

Billy had outdone himself by making some sort of pasta that looked like Fettucine Alfredo from a restaurant. Probably from the back of the box but there was no way I was going to complain about food.

I tried to carry the food into the kitchen but Jacob wouldn't let me. Mr. Chivalry. So then I set the table.

"Hey Jacob!" I said as soon as I was done, finally making eye contact.

I knew he was going to hug me. He'd never done that when we were too cool but for some reason I just knew it was coming. I steeled myself for the inevitable.

"Haseya!" He said, he wrapped me in a huge bear hug. I could literally feel his heartbeat, and I could also feel mine stopping as the air left my lungs. I wrapped my arms around him as tight as I could, you know, revenge for his breaking my ribs, but of course not so much as a pop. And out of nowhere my back popped.

"Ahh!" I exclaimed, putting my hands to my back

"What was that?" Jacob let go instantly, fear lighting his eyes

"That," I said, using both hands to massage the left and right of my lower spine which was giddy with the pleasure of popping "Was my back popping."

Jacob looked extremely awkward. He is so cute when he's awkward. I'll have to remember to tell him that when he starts dating.

"Oh." He said

"It's fine." I said "Since I started running track it always pops at really inconvenient moments. That feels so good."

Then I couldn't help it, I put my hand to cover my face and I started laughing so hard I nearly cried. Jacob saw me losing it and he waited for it to subside and put his hand on my shoulder

"Are you all right?" He asked.

I snorted.

"I'm not just all right, I'm fabulous." I said. I gestured with my hand to his physique, which was getting to be long and muscular. I smiled "Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful?"

He laughed again.

"I'm still a beanpole." He said

"You got a point, stud?" I asked.

That made him laugh so hard I saw a tear leak out of the corner of his eye.

"I missed you." He admitted.

"Me too." I said.

I suddenly became aware that Billy and Charlie were sizing me and Jacob up and there was a gleam in Charlie's eyes that made me want to throw a tomahawk in his general direction.

"The food is cold." Billy observed. "Do you two want to heat it up while Charlie and I talk in the front room?"

I nodded my assent even though I knew exactly what the old men were up to and it was not happening. Jacob Black was not the only man in my life with muscles and dating was so out of the question. Then again, he was cuter now that he wasn't commenting on my nostrils. Ok, he'd always been cute even when he was a jerk. But there was no way, Jose, that I was settling for just one guy. Call me cruel but I'd rather leave a string of broken hearts behind me than pick one and go with it. Plus Jacob didn't see me the way Charlie and Billy were thinking, did he?

As I took out the container and stuck it in the microwave I caught Jacob looking at me funny. When I say funny I mean I caught him appraising me. That made me very excited and very insecure at the same time. His gaze made me aware of my pulse as blood rushed fast and hot through my limbs, making my legs weak.

It's not every day that your guy friend gives you that kind of look and on the one hand you want to slap him for it but on the other hand part of you has always wanted that from him, if he's not a flubberworm, that is.

RRRRR. Having hot guy friends is a pain.

"So you do tennis?" Jacob asked

"Yeah." I said "How about you, any sports?"

"Na." Jacob shook his head "I actually build cars."

I took this opportunity to lean my back against the counter because in my experience, guys tend to look at my back more than my front. I hate men. Did I mention that?

"NO." I said, pointing a finger at him "You aren't serious."

"I am." Jacob said, flashing his gorgeous smile.

"So that's where the biceps come from." I said "I was wondering how you get biceps like that in Forks."

Jacob shrugged and shuffled his feet as though he was about to ask a question he wasn't sure he wanted to ask.

"I thought you weren't going to visit anymore." He said, looking down. I crossed my arms over my chest and said

"I was working through some things."

"So, umm, why are you back now?" He asked.

The look in his eyes was fragile as though I could cut him with my response. Normal people would look at the expression he was giving me and think that he was being casual and asking a question to get an answer he didn't really care about. I knew different. He reminded me forcibly of that time I had been pet sitting a black Labrador puppy named Levi and every time I got up to go home the puppy's black eyes would watch me and this look would come over his face like if I left his heart would break in two.

When I saw that look I always had to walk over to Levi the puppy, put my arms around him, hug him tight and tell him how much I loved him and how he was going to be fine because his owners were coming home soon. At that point Levi would get hopeful that I would stay. But as soon as I put my shoes on he knew I was bound to leave and he put his tail between his legs and started to keen.

I am really good with dogs, animals, and that makes me good with people. It's a gift. So thusly I knew my response to Jacob would have to be like what I told the puppy. Honest and somehow I'd have to remind him I cared about him without some awkward display of affection.

"I've been having a really hard time, Jake." I said "School's been super stressful, I've been fighting nonstop with my mom, I'm trying to work out how to get into college, and I just haven't felt like I've been making the cut. I wanted to try it out here for a year as kind of a break from everything." To my surprise I was finally crying.

"Haseya?" Jacob asked.

I had turned my face away from him and put the back of my hand up to wipe away my tears. I couldn't talk past the lump in my throat so I just opened the microwave to pull the noodles out. He walked over to my side and I felt the strength drain out of my forearm, it was all I could do to keep my grip on the counter, where my hand had latched on like I was holding on for dear life.

There is no way, I told myself, that I'm going to let Charlie or anybody see me cry.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong?" Jacob asked

The fact that he called me baby helped me master myself. I just felt so out of control lately, like something was deeply wrong. Actually being called baby is one of those tricks because whenever I freak out I say "Baby, calm down." To remind myself I'm too young to not be happy.

I managed to speak.

"I." I choked. "I'm just… I gotta go." I tore my hand away from the counter. So much for self-mastery.

And just like that I was out the door, running, without shoes. Straight into the woods. I heard panicked voices coming from the house but I kept running. There was no trail where I was but that didn't matter to me. I didn't want to be on the trail. I wanted to get away from everything. I didn't want to have to stand before Jacob or Charlie or Billy and be accountable for my depression. I didn't want anyone to ask me "Are you okay?" Because I wasn't. I hadn't been okay for a few months now.

I ran until my breathing got ragged and my clothes were full of scratches. I'd bruised myself against branches but I didn't care. That was the thing about running. I didn't care anymore.

For me to run until I get tired is quite a while so I imagine that I ran for at least two hours that night through the rain and even though it was pitch black I managed to correct every misstep. The moon broke through the clouds and I saw my own bedraggled state. I shrugged. I started to walk now. I didn't really care about getting back to Charlie's house.

This kind of thing had happened back in Arizona too but usually I came back before nightfall because walking around at night is when scorpions and other nasties come out to do their jobs. But I ran miles and miles on the rez. I didn't know what I was running from but when I was running I was not stressed. I was peaceful. I was ruled by the desire to run and be away from the things of man.

Even now I was no longer stressed. I had come to a quiet acknowledgement that my actions had been wrong and stupid and that I had probably driven Charlie to arouse a search party. Which was too bad for him because I would get back home in one piece. No matter how far I wandered I was never lost, and I always managed to reach home again.

In Navajo religion they say the spirits of our ancestors watch out for us. Well, I know mine do. There are many times when I should have by all logical reason been lost in the desert with no easy way back and I've found my way back. It's like this feeling of companionship, of never being alone. There are some strange things my people do and half of me feels like because of the "white" I shouldn't be a Navajo because I'm not pure, but I'm sure of protection.

It's a very quiet thing. A quiet assurance that is like the wind. You don't see it, but it's there and it is always around you.

I caught sight of a house with a yard and walked towards it, moving through the trees like a shadow. By all accounts I should have been afraid of the dark shadow that crossed my path because it was most assuredly a wolf. But I wasn't. I watched the great black wolf bound across the path and then I saw its eyes fix on me. And I still wasn't afraid.

"Yes. I'm here." I said. "And I want to be alone. Don't be concerned about me, I will find my path. Worry about your own."

The wolf regarded me with deeply intelligent eyes but it melted into the underbrush.

I got back to Charlie's house at about midnight and I was tired but I was now calm. I was worried about how cold my limbs were but that was minor. The jittery, nervous energy that had made me need to leave had dissipated. He was gone, presumably to search for me. I went up the stairs and showered with hot water very quickly, and without even drying my hair I pulled on sweatpants, flip flops, and a t-shirt. I layered Jacob's jacket over it as he had left it here. I walked back into the woods, sufficiently warmed to join the attempt. Billy was in the other side of the house. How do I know that? Good question. I just knew.

"CHARLIE!" I yelled "JACOB!"

I heard voices calling out my name.

"CHARLIE! JACOB! I'M AT THE HOUSE!" I yelled. I heard them coming towards me. I knew they would be angry with me so I went back in and was face to face with Billy. I ran my hand through my dripping ponytail.

There was something impossible to read in his black eyes.

"I'm going to bed." I announced. "It's a school night, after all."

With that I left my shoes by the door as well as Jacob's jacket, and went upstairs just as Charlie and Jacob came back in through the door. I heard their concerned voices murmuring from where I lay on my bed, staring at the white ceiling and wishing it was a starry sky rather than this walled cage. I heard them move towards the door.

"Haseya is struggling." Billy said "Charlie, what is the reservation in Arizona like?"

Charlie sighed. "I don't know Billy. Whenever I ask about it she puts barriers up and hides it from me."

Jacob was silent, to his credit.

"I'm deeply concerned about my daughter, Billy." Charlie said "Her mother says that more and more often, Haseya leaves the house without warning and runs off. She has no idea where she goes. And Haseya doesn't talk about it with us. I was hoping maybe having you and Jacob come over would help her adjust to life here."

I could almost feel Billy thinking. Typical to most Native American tribal leaders was a wisdom that you just couldn't get off a cereal box, there was a deepness to their words sometimes that reflected the past better than any pool of water. It was as though the ancestors spoke through them for our good. And it was that way that he spoke now.

"Haseya needs to wander." Billy said "We can hope for her safety, but I fear if we try to shut her in a house, in a small town, it will end badly. You have to let her run, Charlie."

Charlie heaved another sigh.

"I worry so much about her."

Billy looked up in the direction of my room.

"You don't need to." He said with utmost authority. I clutched the bone carving of the wolf that dangled around my neck as I heard that.

"I'm so sorry, Charlie." Jacob said "I just asked her if she was okay and she just ran out. I should have stopped her."

"Not your fault, Jacob." Charlie said "I'll have her call you when she's ready to apologize for scaring you like that."

I felt terrible for worrying them but at the same time I was assured of the necessity of running away again. Now I felt like I could go to school tomorrow. If I could have a conversation with a wolf in the woods and come back unharmed, then I could handle a school full of idiots. Right?

Hot tears dripped onto my pillow.