strict,” Jack said, frowning. “No drinking, no smoking.” He sat moping until his face brightened with a new idea. “You know, I read some history where Indians used to smoke peace pipes. I’m sure they were filled with opium or something. Plus, marijuana is legal in almost every state now.”
“That doesn’t matter because our laws govern our land.” Anna suddenly felt bad that she sounded so defensive. It might be nice to try it now that the wine has worn off, she thought, feeling amorous and adventurous. “I guess we could smoke it real fast.”
She watched Jack inhale on the end of the tiny homemade cigarette, hold his breath for a few moments, then exhale. It smelled like the sage they used for their ceremonies, which was a comforting thought. When he passed the joint to her, she tried to mimic Jack but ended up having a coughing spasm, which sent him into a fit of laughter.
They passed the marijuana cigarette back and forth a few times until it became a tiny stub too small to hold. Jack snuffed it out on the hard-packed dirt floor and crawled under Anna’s blanket. Then, wordlessly, he took his jacket off, made it into a pillow for both of them, and lay back on it, pulling her down with him. He rolled toward her, the length of his body warm and hard against hers, and started to kiss her. Then she felt his hand go up under her sweater.
“Jack, I don’t think…I don’t know if…” but she really didn’t want him to stop, passion flooding through her, ignited by the pot smoke and her teenage desires, and she let him touch her in places she had never been touched.
She sat up and was about to remove her sweater altogether when she heard the loud crunch of approaching footsteps. Anna sat frozen with fear.
“Hey, come back here,” Jack whispered loudly, grabbing her shoulder, his hearing not as attuned as hers.
“Shhh.” She put a finger to her lips and held her other hand over his mouth. “Someone’s coming.”
Jack sat up abruptly, listening. He turned to her, his face turning pale as he too heard the sound, now getting louder and closer.
Anna slunk down and pulled the blanket up over her head, motioning for Jack to do the same. The footsteps suddenly stopped.
“Phew,” Jack sighed.
“Who’s in there?” A deep man’s voice boomed as the door cover was thrown open, and a gust of cold air and the bright beam of a flashlight intruded on the hogan’s interior.
“Papa, it’s me.” Anna sat up uncovering herself and saw her father’s shape filling the entrance. The flashlight beam shone into her eyes.
“What are you doing in here? I smell marijuana! And what… who is under that blanket?”
Jack threw off the blanket and stood. “I’m sorry, sir, my name is Jack and––”
“Enough!” In one swift motion, the hulking figure in the doorway loomed over them, a giant hand swooped in like an eagle’s claw and grabbed Jack’s arm, and the teenage boy was hurled through the doorway out into the night. Paco Becenti growled as he turned and exited the hogan. “Get out of here, you filthy piece of white trash,” he snarled, and Anna could hear Jack’s racing footsteps receding.
She sat shaking with fear, hot tears of shame streaming down her face.
But her father never re-entered, silently retreating back to their home.
CHAPTER 3
DESPITE HER PLEADINGS, Paco Becenti forbade his daughter to ever see Jack again.
“He’s a snake,” her father said, crossing his arms, his back turned toward her as he faced the massive fireplace in their living room. A fire built earlier had burned down to a pile of embers, which deceptively reflected a warm radiance on her father’s stern features. He leaned wearily onto his hands, resting against the amber-colored mantel, which he had lovingly carved and finished out of an old oak beam.
In addition to being a former president of the Navajo Nation Council, Paco was a master woodcarver and had made a lot of the furniture that decorated their home, from the huge, oak dining room table and chairs to the cherry wood kitchen cabinets. He had also carved many of the elaborate decorative statues and figurines that his wife sold at the market at prices fetching hundreds, and sometimes thousands, of dollars.
“Papa, you don’t know him.” Anna stood meekly at the other end of the large, high-ceilinged room. Cedar beams crossed overhead in an A-line frame, and stone covered the fireplace. A large couch and two recliners rested on a homemade rug, which covered a golden wood-planked floor. The room was much like the rest of the Becenti home, grand yet comfortable and homey.
“I know his kind,” Paco said, turning now to face her, a tall, formidable, handsome man who had aged well, his black hair graying at the temples, his dark brown eyes flickering with emotion. Anna knew she saw love in them but also sadness and a fierce, father-like determination to protect her. He uncrossed his arms and thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I know he’s up to no good and that you need to stay away from him. How dare he come into our sacred hogan and offer you drugs? How dare he try to take advantage of you? It’s a good thing I showed up when I did!”
Anna felt her cheeks flush red, not finding any words to say. Paco crossed the room and looked into his daughter’s eyes, grasping her shoulders firmly, his tone somber and deep. “You are forbidden to ever see him again. Do you understand me?”
Anna nodded meekly, unable to defend herself as she looked up into those piercing dark eyes, her father’s figure towering over her petite five-foot-six frame.
His grip softened, and he wrapped his large arms around his daughter, giving her a bear hug, enveloping her, making her feel safe and loved.
“I love you, Anna,” he whispered into her hair and kissed her on the cheek. She could see tears of love filling his eyes, and her own tears spilled over onto her cheeks.
“I love you too, Papa.”
BUT, as water finds a way to cut through rock, Anna’s love and desire for Jack found a way.
Since her parents had taken away her phone privileges, she waited until one night when she was alone in the house to call Jack. Flo had just left for a weekend spiritual retreat for teenagers and her parents had taken Dena out shopping to get new school shoes. Anna complained of having a stomachache, saying she really didn’t want to go shopping. She called Jack to tell him she was thinking of him.
“I miss you too, Anna.” She heard Jack’s irresistible voice and smiled. “I really want to see you, to be with you. I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Anna’s heart pounded. “I am falling in love with you too,” she whispered, sighing. “But my father has forbidden me to see you.”
“It will be our last chance to be together since we’re leaving to go home in two more days. Can we meet tomorrow night at our old meeting space at the entrance to the Coconino National Park? Please, Anna. I need to feel you next to me. I want to make love to you.”
Now her whole body ached with desire. I have to see him one last time, say goodbye to him in person and together we can figure out a way to see each other in the future. She wanted to make love to him. What did her father know of young love? Her parents’ marriage had been arranged like so many Native American marriages in the past. But I’m in a new generation. And I’ve been sheltered way too long. I’m old enough to make my own choices, to live my life, to experience love.
“Yes, oh yes, Jack, I’ll meet you. Tomorrow night then.” Her heart felt like it would fly out of her chest, and she danced around the room after hanging up.
Fortunately, Anna knew that her parents planned to dine out with friends the next night, and her older sister Dena had to work.
She waited anxiously for the designated meeting time and then snuck out the door, through the forest, and up the hill. Jack arrived a few minutes after.
But instead