Gone Chapter 4

                                                Chapter 4              

After the movie, Mystic River, Alec and Sandra Dee walked to nearby Rattlesnake Bar and Grill. They ate chimichangas, tostadas, laughed and kidded each other. Alec mocked his Boston accent, quoting dialogue from Mystic River. Sandra Dee smiled and punched him lightly on the shoulder. “I was just pahking the cahr in Hahvahd yahd.”

After a few beers, they walked back to his motel room where they fell on the bed, snuggled and kissed. He was out of practice in romance etiquette; his hands groped, all over her chest. It aggravated more than it pleased her. Her shirt and bra tossed on the floor. He was ready to explode in his jeans.

“Slow down. Easy,” she said, smiling.

“Sorry.”

“Patience.”

She unzipped his pants and stripped them to his ankles. She climbed on top of him, her breath warm on his thigh. She sucked on his cock and he came in thirty seconds. Just like that, he was all done. His stress floated off; the world was one peaceful unified rhythm. He sighed. He massaged her breasts softly.

“That’s more like it… relax,” she said.

He loved her attitude, confidence and the way she made him feel like a man. She observed great humor, with an edge he related to. A feisty, loyal tribesman, she harbored no bad feelings toward whites, unlike her family and most of the tribe. She measured a person, not by color or politics but by the size of their heart.

“You look like a little boy,” she said.

“What?”

“Your little bad boy smile. You are so cute.”

“Ha— it’s because I just came.”

“Oh. And I thought it was because you liked me. I get it. You’re using me.”

“Right. I secretly hate you,” he said.

“You repulse me very much.”

“Whore.”

“Pimp.”

She cackled.

“So why are you in Tucson? Of all the places you could go why here?”

“I… I woke up one morning, sick of my life. I just sort of… left. I didn’t know where I was going. I hopped in my truck and just drove. It was like something guided me here.”

“What made you leave?”

“I guess I was just overdue, long overdue. I guess I needed a road trip.”

“I’m glad for it.”

“I’ve spent a lot of time doing nothing. Just wasting away. Here— with you, I don’t think of the past. It’s like you make me forget. I feel reborn.”

She kissed his chest.

“Have you ever wanted to leave?” he asked.

“I love the land here… it’s very old, very dangerous. It’s the only land I know.”

“You never wanted to see how others live?”

 “Where else will I go? I was born on the reservation. My mother died here. My grandfather raised me.”

She turned her face toward the cracked ceiling.

“I like it here. It’s home. I have cousins here you know. My grandfather. He was a great man. He taught me about our heritage. He taught me about America.”

They lay on the bed a long time. She rested her cheek on his chest. Her breath warmed his skin. He had never met a woman so open, free, and crazy. Good crazy, he thought.

“Besides I make good living.”

“Oh right, super waitress.”

 “Well, many of my cousins run illegals across the border.”

“You mean like Mexicans?”

“I mean like Mexicans, Brazilians, Puerto Ricans, Nicaraguans… the list never ends.”

“Isn’t that… very dangerous?”

“It’s just a day in the life here, honey.”

She lived on the Santa Rita Ranch in the Tohono O’Odham reservation, west of Tucson. The reservation covered 90 miles across the southern boundary of Arizona— its boundaries lay in the US as well as Mexico. Most of her family disliked Mexicans as much as they disdained whites, she said. Mexicans were invading their land, destroying homes and cemeteries. They smashed fences, doors and ravaged barns and sheds often disposing trash, clothes and sometimes, dead bodies in their yards. Their reservation sat right smack in the hot spot— on the frontline of drug smugglers, robbers and illegal alien crossings. It was commonplace practice for many Indians— smuggling was simply part of the economic atmosphere.

“That’s crazy shit,” he said.

“Which part?”

“Everything. Sounds like a mean business. And a good way to get killed.”

“It is what it is,” she said.

She rolled her hips on top of his. She stroked him until he got hard again.

“Ok. Let’s do this, sweetie. Just relax, ok?”

“Ok.”