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Tristan entered the library at just before one p.m. on Saturday, with Maggie in tow and balanced comfortably on one hip. Having arrived for the Books and Babies program, they approached the area where everyone sat. Congregated around a colorful circular rug, the attendees were a mixture of parents and their children, who ranged from newborn to toddler age.
On locating an empty spot in the circle, Tristan claimed it with Maggie, who seemed delighted at the sight of so many other babies. No sooner had her feet touched the ground, did she toddle off to a chubby baby girl, who was confidently doing flips onto the brightly colored carpet. Deciding it looked fun enough to try, Maggie did the same, contorting her body to imitate the girl. Watching on with a smile, Tristan observed them play together, which continued for several minutes until the storytime reader made an appearance.
Small in build and tall in stature, she strode out onto the carpet, offering a smile to the parents and babies who had been eagerly awaiting her arrival. There was a self-assured grace about her, a confident way, yet also a humbleness at the very same time. Hair worn in a long braid slung over one shoulder, she seemed to be in her early thirties. But overall she was very attractive, and Tristan couldn’t help noticing she had great legs, too. Taking a seat in the middle of the carpet, she immediately launched into an introduction.
“Welcome, everyone. I see all the familiar faces here, but it looks like we may have one new person…”
Hoping she wouldn’t suggest that people introduce themselves, Tristan retrieved his phone from his pocket, fakely fidding with the high-tech device. Yet to his utter dismay, she honed right in on him, focusing her gaze on his hunched over form.
“So it looks like we’ve got a dad out there, which is great.”
Tristan felt his stomach do a dip, and swallowing a lump in his throat, slowly lifted his gaze to meet with hers. Offering an encouraging smile, the storytime reader gave a little nod, as if to confirm that she was speaking to him. Clearing his throat nervously, Tristan began to speak.
“Um hi, I’m Tristan. My daughter is Maggie….” Averting his gaze, he scouted her out, then saw she was still at play with the other girl. “She’s two, and it’s our first time here.”
“Well hello, Tristan. My name is Olivia, and we’re happy to have you here with us today.
We welcome both you and your little one into our group.”
“Thanks.” Cheeks hot with embarrassment, he cleared his throat and averted his gaze.
“You’re actually the only father we currently have in this group, but don’t let that make you feel uncomfortable. I think I speak for all of the ladies here, that we find it refreshing to see a hands-on dad.”
A multitude of voices around the circle confirmed she was right, and feeling more self-conscious than before, Tristan mumbled a quiet response.
“Well thanks.”
Before storytime began, Olivia started them off with a few stretches, bending down to touch her toes, before stretching out one leg and then the other. Watching her demonstration, the toddlers did the same, curving their little bodies and wiggling around. Once that was all finished they sat back down on the floor, circling the carpet where Lona was seated in the very middle.
Now holding Maggie on his lap, Tristan watched on as storytime ensued, which featured a book about a girl who had a special friendship with a caterpillar. Sharing the story in a way that really drew the kids in, Olivia was effortlessly engaging. So much, that by the time the book was all over, even Tristan himself was sorry it had come to an end.
As part of the program, the kids were given an activity sheet, which related to the story they had all just heard. While the toddlers were busily coloring things in, the parents had a chance to socialize. With only females in the room, Tristan felt completely out of place, and immediately pulled out his phone to check any emails which had come through. Only a few seconds in, however, he felt a small hand reach out to touch his arm. Glancing in the direction of it, he saw it belonged to the woman who was sitting right beside him. Wearing very little makeup, she had the kind of face he couldn’t help but admire – eyebrows naturally thick, lips full and almost pouty-like, and those eyes….bright and friendly, she offered Tristan a warm smile.
“Good storytime, eh?”
He nodded and smiled, then looked back down at his phone.
“Me and my daughter, we come here every week.” Worn in a wavy bob, she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “They have puppet shows sometimes, and Wiggle Wednesdays is always fun.”
“Wiggle Wednesdays?”
“A free dance class for all the toddlers.”
“Oh.”
“You should come.” She smiled invitingly.
“We might,” Tristan said. “But sometimes she goes to her great-grandma’s on Wednesday.”
“Well that’s cool,” she replied. “Just something to keep in mind, you know?”
He escort nodded.
“I’m Lona, by the way.” She held out her hand.
“Tristan.”
“My daughter is Nikita,” she said, and gestured to a chubby baby girl who was coloring with Maggie.
“My little girl is Maggie,” Tristan replied.
“Seems they get on pretty well, huh?” She said while watching the two girls excitedly color.
“Yeah,” Tristan agreed.
“You still with the mom?”
He shook his head.
“Broke up, eh?”
“She died.”
“Oh.” Lowering her gaze for a few seconds, Lona waited before speaking again. “Really sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, it’s been tough,” he said. “But she’s honestly much better off without me.
“That can’t be true.”
“It is.”
“You shouldn’t say that,” Lona countered. “I think you can’t possibly know just how much she loved you.”
“Oh I do,” he replied. “And that’s the whole reason she killed herself.”
Now at a loss for words, Lona went quiet. Whatever interest there had been now seemed to slowly wane, and Tristan wondered if he hadn’t been too harsh with the words he had spoken. Now feeling uncomfortable, he stared at the phone which he held in his hands. Yet instead of engaging with the apps on his screen, he cleared his throat, then began to speak.
“I didn’t treat her real well,” he confessed. “I was a jerk and to be honest, she really did deserve better.”
Gazing deep into his eyes with a compassionate look, Lona spoke a few words in an attempt to comfort.
“I’m sure she forgives you, Tristan. And I honestly think you should believe in that.”
He did want to believe, and a part of him was certain that she did. But pangs of guilt were still there, and always would be, he knew that for sure.
“Well me and my ex, we don’t talk much at all,” Lona continued. “He comes around when he wants to, gives me a little money whenever he has it. But for the most part, I’m on my own. Only have my mom and grandparents to help out and give support.”
“That’s not right,” Tristan said. “He should take responsibility and be a good dad.”
“It is what it is.” She lightly shrugged. “My dad took off when I was young, too, so guess I’m used to men not being around.”
Having no words to say back, Tristan averted his gaze, focusing on Maggie and Nikita, who were now babbling in their baby language. Perhaps sensing that he was feeling a little uncomfortable, Lona spoke once again.
“You seem different, though.” Gazing thoughtfully at Tristan’s face, she studied him. “For one thing, you’re a single dad. Which is really unusual here on the reservation.”
Not wanting to interrupt, he just let her speak.
“But there’s something else about you…you’ve got this vibe that’s really chill. Not gangsterish, like my ex. You’re just calm and normal, know what I mean? And I think that’s really cool.”
“Thanks,” Tristan said.
“I don’t know if you smoke or drink, but my ex does. As for me, I’m out of that life. Wanna be a good example to my kid, you know?”
Tristan nodded. “I understand. And no, I don’t smoke or drink. Never have.”
“That’s good.” She smiled approvingly.
With the storytime program now coming to an end, most parents and kids were making their exit, while a few stayed around to chat. As Tristan picked up Maggie and held her in his arms, Lona did the same with Nikita. On reaching the door and walking outside, they took a moment to say their goodbyes.
“So I guess I’ll be seeing you next Saturday,” Tristan said. “We’ll come again, since Maggie likes it.”
“I’m glad she did,” Lona replied. “And remember, you can always show up for Wiggle Wednesdays, too.”
“Yeah.” He lightly nodded. “Well have a good weekend, alright?”
“You too.” She smiled softly, then tucked a lock of hair behind her pierced ear. “So are you two doing anything in particular?”
“What, you mean for today?”
“Or tomorrow.”
“No, not really. Just probably watch some movies, and maybe get into some crafts like finger painting.”
“That sounds fun,” Lona said. “Me and Nikita are gonna make some sugar cookies tomorrow.”
“That’s cool.”
Now giving Tristan very solid eye contact, Lona seemed to be waiting expectantly….and he was pretty certain of just what it was, that she was waiting for. A part of him wanted to, and yet something inside was making him reluctant. So instead of going ahead with what he knew she was hoping, Tristan decided to bring the conversation to an end.
“So I’ll see you Friday then,” he abruptly said.
“Yeah.” She smiled weakly. “See ya.”
As Tristan walked away he could feel her eyes following him, all the way to the spot where he had parked. He wanted to look back but didn’t, choosing instead to continue with Maggie to his car.
* * * *
Lucas entered town at just past noon on a cold May morning, sun peeking through large, fluffy clouds above. Behind the wheel of his faithful old escort bayan pickup truck, Lucas gazed out of the windshield and checked out the sights which began to surround him. Known as a small, run-down border town, Shelby was a place Lucas didn’t like to visit. A ghost town of sorts, it had a lot of drunks and unsavory people, the type that liked to make trouble, or at least give dirty looks so that it made you uncomfortable. He much rather would avoid the whole town entirely, but what he needed to procure just couldn’t be found on the reservation.
Pressing his boot-clad foot a little heavier on the accelerator, he drove past a number of mom-and-pop shops. The engine rattled as he picked up speed, confirming that his visit to this town was much needed and very non-negotiable. A 1983 Ford F-150, Lucas’s pickup was longing for a new timing belt, which he planned on installing himself. He could complete the job in a weekend, but the part itself would set him back financially. Due to his lack of cash, he’d had to make a choice he really didn’t want to and pulling into the parking lot of his destination, he grudgingly rolled into a space. After putting his truck in park and cutting the engine, Lucas retrieved the item which he was preparing to sell.
Crafted from gorgeous wood and comfortably lightweight, the hunting rifle he held was an absolute favorite of his. Having accompanied him on many excursions to the woods, the firearm was impeccably made, so much that he seriously considered right then and there just forgetting the whole thing. But if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to repair his truck, and that would not only affect his ability to get back and forth to school, but how could he possibly expect to continue dating Claudia, when he didn’t have a car to even take her out on dates? Exhaling a heavy breath, he took a moment to reminisce, recalling the use of his gun and just how well it had served him.
From a young age, Lucas had been shown how to butcher, gut, skin, preserve, and prepare wild game. Whatever wasn’t eaten was put to use in other ways, with skins made into hides for warmth, while bones of the animal were used in jewelry. Taught by his father to be a subsistence hunter, he killed game out of need for food only, and never for sport or entertainment. He recalled his father once mentioning that the ways of the white man was to “kill without reason.”
Trained from childhood to respect God’s creatures and also the earth, Lucas had never taken an animal’s life to make them a trophy. He always said a prayer over them after taking one down, thanking the Creator first, and then the animal itself. Along with thanking the slain creature for the gift of meat it had given, Lucas also blessed its journey to the other side. Then, only once that had been done, did he begin the process of cutting it up. With grocery prices so high on the reservation, knowing how to procure your own meat was an important skill, and as such, Lucas kept up the tradition of hunting.
Still gazing at the rifle in a wistful way, he began to wonder if there wasn’t anything else he could possibly sell. But knowing in his heart that this was the best choice, he reluctantly exited the car, then trudged toward the entrance of the gun shop. A chime rang to announce his presence as he entered, and inhaling the scents which permeated the air, made his way to the glass-top display case. A smorgasboard of manly scents, the gun shop was fragranced with tobacco and gun cleaning solvent, as well as a hint of leather. Noticing a sign on the wall behind the cash register, Lucas took a moment to read it:
WARNING, it stated in big, bold red letters. I don’t dial 911 for shoplifters.
As if to confirm this declaration, was a depiction of a hand, which held a gun with barrel pointed straight ahead. Shifting his gaze to a camera which was mounted above the sign, Lucas stared into it impatiently, hoping the owner would soon make an appearance. Half a minute after this thought had come into his head, a shopkeeper did emerge. But to Lucas’s complete surprise it was a woman, and a very pretty one at that. With her dark red hair, tattooed arms, and low cut camo tank top, she fit right in at the gun shop. Lucas couldn’t help but check out her overall look, especially her bust, which jutted out fetchingly. But he was a pro at keeping his cool, face poker straight as she reached the counter.
“Can I help you there, darlin’?” The shopkeeper asked while looking him over, green eyes shifting from his face to his two, traditional waist-length braids.
“I’m here to sell,” he deeply stated, then tipped up the gun which he carefully held.
“Nice lookin’ rifle for a nice lookin’ man,” she softly said, then held out her hand to accept the weapon.
Completely reluctant to do so, however, Lucas kept his palm gripped firmly around it.
“Well I’m not gonna run off with it now, sweetie,” she assured him. “I just wanna hold it for a bit, y’know? Test the weight and see the details, bayan escort that’s all.”
Tentatively holding up his beloved hunting rifle, Lucas placed it in her palm, then eyed her closely as she checked it out.
“Solid piece,” she commented while gripping it firmly, then seductively ran her palm along the length of the hard wood. “Firm, suited for action, and most likely delivers a superb performance.”
Now looking straight into Lucas’s eyes, the storekeeper lightly fluttered her lashes, then parted her lips ever so slightly. “Grade A quality for sure. Looks like it can handle just about anything at all…”
Knowing full well that she was entrapping him with her stare, Lucas fought hard to gaze away. But she’d purposely shifted her body, so that her huge boobs rested on the glass counter. Willing himself not to look down, Lucas kept his gaze firmly on her face.
“So I bet it shoots real smoothly, too.” Her thumb was now stroking the barrel of the rifle, encircling it ever so enticingly. “Packs a lotta power from the looks of it.”
By this point, Lucas was inwardly sweating, and hadn’t the crotch of his pants gotten just a little bit tighter at her talk?”
“Uh, so how much do you think I could get for it, ma’am?”
“Ma’am?” She giggled lightly, then firmly stated, “I’m not that old, hon. But just for curiosity sakes, what is your age?”
“I’m nineteen,” he stated.
“My goodness, you’re even younger than I thought.” She looked him up and down once more, before giving a wink. “I’m twenty-five, myself.”
Lucas lightly nodded to acknowledge what she’d said, then pointed to his gun, which she still held.
“So how much would you give me?”
Eyeing the rifle once again, she gave it a long, thoughtful look. Yet before she could give an answer, a chime rang to announce the presence of a new customer. Glancing behind Lucas, the shopkeeper smiled, then offered a greeting to the men who had entered.
“Well hey there, you two,” she said to the men who’d approached the counter. “Came back for that Beretta 92, did ya?”
“You know it, Tiff.” Big and beary looking, the customer wore a trucker’s cap which proclaimed, “That’s What She Said!” on the front.
The second man, who was much smaller but cocky in demeanor, wore a western-style outfit, compete with cowboy hat and boots. Smiling widely and exposing missing teeth, he gave the shopkeeper a flirtatious gaze.
“And as for me, well you know I’m just here to stare into those big beautiful green eyes of yours.”
The smile she gave back was polite yet dry, and clearly uninterested, returned her gaze to the big, beefy one.
“Well I’ll be glad to help you two out, but this gentleman here was first…” Gesturing to Lucas, she made it clear that he was priority. “So soon as I finish with him, I can help you with that Beretta.”
As if noticing for the first time that Lucas was even present, the two men gave him a long, hard look. Not liking the way that they stared, Lucas met their eyes straight on, standing tall and proud beneath their fiery gaze. He guessed something in his demeanor must have told them he was fearless, because they shifted their gaze back to the shopkeeper.
“Seems unsafe you being alone in the shop like this, Tiff,” the big bear-like one said. “Your father’s usually here, did something happen?”
“He’s on lunch, Mike,” she replied. “Be back in a couple of minutes, as a matter of fact.”
“Well we’ll stick around,” said the miniscule one with the cowboy hat, and purposely eyeing Lucas, he snidely added, “No telling what could happen, pretty woman like you all alone without any help.”
Quietly exhaling a breath, she quickly replied, “I’m fine, Ted. Thirty minutes isn’t all that long, know what I mean?”
“Well, we can still wait, anyhow,” he firmly stated, and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, strolled off to a display of new arrivals. Following behind him was the beefy one, glancing one last time at Lucas before turning his back.
“Sorry bout that,” the shopkeeper said, lightly rolling her eyes at the situation. “They’re friends of my dad’s, so a little overprotective, know what I mean?”
“Yeah.” Lucas lightly nodded, but kept his gaze on the rifle which was still in her hand. “So you were telling me how much I could get for it…”
Looking thoughtfully at the weapon, she checked out the barrel, then the frame before once again testing its weight. Seeming to approve of the rifle in general, she finally gave him a number.
“For this piece, I’d be willing to go 650.”
“Really….” More than he had expected, Lucas nodded and gave the okay. “Well alright then, let’s do it.”
Procuring a pad of paper from next to the register, she began to jot down info about the gun. Lucas watched as she scribbled away, filling out the sheet which would serve as a record.
“You know this really is a beautiful rifle,” she professed. “So I’m kinda wonderin’ why you even wanna sell it.”
“Need a part bad for my truck,” Lucas stated. “So it’s gotta be done, no other choice.”
“Well that’s a shame,” she replied. “This your only gun, or do you have any others?”
“I have two other rifles,” he said. “All used for hunting.”
