REZ's EDGE - Destruction & Redemption by Brad Jensen

REZ's EDGE - First Kiss

An Excerpt From REZ's EDGE

We shimmy between the naturally-pebbled rock wall and the Romanesque concrete, walk the narrow dirt path, reach up and grab the white concrete and step down to the red dirt underneath the viaduct.  As we step along, the concrete ceiling rises higher and higher.  Pigeons are startled by our presence and flutter off from the overhanging girders.  The red dirt is littered with kid trash, cigarette butts, wine and whiskey bottles, beer cans, mounds of dirt, and boulders.  No other humans, though,  Oyate, Cheyenne, Anglo or otherwise.  Just us three.

"My Dad said that those two jerks, Charlie and Jake, were flapping their lips about Jonathon being Indian."

"What happened?"

"Those guys are serious.... jerks.  They said Jonathon belonged on the rez.  Said they killed all the buffalo, gave 'em infected blankets, and loaded 'em with lead to get 'em there and that's where he belongs."

"What did Jonathon do?"

"Told me, so they could hear, that, 'This is what a Vietnam vet that's a med tech at the V.A. has to put up with, ignorance from misguided misfits.'  Then one of 'em said, 'Who you calling misfits?'  And then they said, 'We never asked you to go kill babies!'

"Really?"

"Really.  Then Jonathon told them he was a med tech in 'Nam and that he never killed any babies, as he was too busy saving soldiers lives.  Also said that his great-great-grandfather and his grandfather served in the US Army, too.  That shut 'em up, and we got outta there.  Told me afterwards that he had to get out of there before he did something he'd end up in jail and probably lose his job for."

"Wow."

"Yeah, he's pretty cool."

"Just like you, Dakota.  Pretty cool, as long as you're not knocking redskins into urinals."

"Ah, come on, Cheryl.  I know you're just getting your digs in.  That's okay, I dig you too," I say as I push her into Olivia.    

"You're in trouble now!" says Cheryl.

"Get him!"

The two crazed girls attack and start tickling me, something fierce.  I'm backed up into a square concrete pillar, giggling like some ticklish little girl, and sliding down white concrete into red dirt.  Fighting it, but not really fighting it.

"Do you want to kiss us?" asks Olivia.

"Both of us?"

I've been hit in the forehead with a bullet of astonishment.  "Uh... uh... yeah."

Olivia moves her pale-skinned face in close to mine and my eyelids glide shut like the pneumatic movement of a tape-deck door on an expensive high-fidelity stereo system.  Her lips are warm plump satin upon mine.  I smell the warmth of her exhaled breath.  It's not sweet, it's not bitter, it's almost like the aroma of warm buttered popcorn.  I melt a little as I feel the moisture of her lips tug lightly at mine as she slowly backs away and my blue eyes part to see her eyelids separating and revealing emerald pools of speckled green jewels.

The red bow on my face turns slightly upward and so does hers.  A warmth is glowing in the middle of my chest.  She turns to Cheryl and rocks her head back towards mine.

Her dark-toned face turns towards mine and I'm sinking into pools of sparkling amber.  Her heat pulls me closer and the warmth in my chest is growing.  My eyes take a stroll up the slope of her milk-chocolate bridge and I pour my entire being into her mind's-eye.  I'm unable to stop peering into her aboriginal soul.  I can no longer focus.  I release and let eyelashes fall like thick golden honey.  Smells of warm baked bread laced with melted butter and a touch of warm cinnamon oil, rush into me as the plush heat of moistened silk presses warmly, softly, into my lips.

It's there.  Barely.  Just a hint.  The taste of cherry Jolly-Rancher, the taste of Cheryl.

My flesh is electric.  My heart and pulse beat inside like drums.  I'm flying.  My heart is flying.  My mind is flying.  My soul is flying.  I'm borne on the wings of a golden eagle soaring into the eye of the setting sun.  Fireworks.  Atom bomb.  Supernova.

My eyes are heavy.  I hear giggling.  They open.  My cherry and pop-corn christened lips stretch and my teeth peek from underneath.

Two girls, one white, one brown, both a hand length away from my face, smile back at me.  They pop up, turn and run away, chuckling and giggling like mad hyenas.

"Bye Dakota!"

"See you tomorrow!"

"I'm glad you're not wíŋkte!"

Olivia nudges Cheryl.  They waver all over the place and laugh hysterically.

On my ass, in red dirt, I chuckle with pure joy.
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