Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
“Our minds can come up with all sorts of things when we’re alone with nature. Especially at night. We have to rely on our sense of smell… touch… taste, and especially hearing. The gift of sight is greatly diminished in those woods, even with a flashlight. Everything around there roaming the earth can see far better than we can, and from a greater distance, too. These walks instill humility. A reminder that we’re just a speck in a big, wide world. The walks help me finetune my senses. A good hunter and trapper is patient. He pays attention. He listens. He trusts himself. He trusts his God-given instincts.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then brought her hands together and up, as if about to pray, or perhaps do a bit of yoga. He had no idea what in the hell the woman was doing, but it looked rather strange and off-putting.
“When I look at you, Jack, I see Northern Lights from the inside out. I see colors in reverse, that fall into the rivers, and the oceans, making oily rainbows. You are a garden of rough and tumble. You are the seed not yet planted, and the tree that stands taller than others, wide and worn with age. I see chipped iron. Overwhelming power. Tumbling bricks. Stacked stones. Splintered wood and cracked marble.”
She opened her eyes, then reached over and stroked his arm.
“Is that supposed to be some weird poem or something?”
“Oh, Jesus Christ! Just take me to my Martha’s!” she quipped, eyebrows rutted and forehead wrinkled.
“I am. I thought that’s where we were going?”
He looked straight ahead, but could feel her fluttering heat. He’d ignited a rage. He assumed he should’ve felt ashamed for playing with her this way for entertainment. But he didn’t.
“Mr. Jackson Currant, here I am trying—”
“Don’t call me Jackson. I told you only my mother called me that.”
“JACKSUUUUUN CURRANT! Jackson! Jackson! Jackson! Action Jackson! Stonewall Jackson! Samuel Jackson! Jacksonville, Florida! Michael Jackson! Hee! Hee! Mahalia Jackson! Janet Jackson, what have you done for me lately?! LaToya and Jermaine Jackson! Tito Jackson, too! The whole motherfucking Jackson 5, ABC, You and Me! Now… as I was saying… Here I am trying to have a special moment with you, and this is what you do. Ruin the moment!”
His lips twisted, and then, he burst out laughing.
“Jack, my Lord… no wonder you’re single,” she teased.
“I never said I was looking.” He chuckled. “I have another vice.”
“What? Being a jerk?”
“No, but close. I like messing with people. Especially if I like them.”
Her eyes got big, and she wrapped her arms around herself. A mixture of anger and amusement flitted on her face. She wasn’t as mad as she let on.
A few minutes later, they arrived at Martha’s house. The small home was aglow with lights, and there were cars and trucks parked everywhere. He found a spot behind a Ford Focus, parked, and helped her out of his truck. Taking her hand, they walked across the street to Martha’s house. Outside were a few Native Indian men drinking and smoking. He nodded in their direction, and they nodded back as he entered the dwelling with Kim. The sound of Major Lazer & DJ Snake’s, ‘Lean On,’ featuring MØ, greeted them.
The house had wood paneling on the walls and dated furniture from the 1980s and ’90s. Big red balloons floated about, and there was barely room to even maneuver, or walk a straight line. The strong smell of marijuana and cigarette smoke engulfed them. To his right, he spotted Martha in the kitchen. She stood with a pink and yellow dress on, her hair pinned up atop her head, and cackling with a bunch of other Indian women.
“There she is.”
Kim released his hand and made a fast trek to her. He followed behind her, and they struggled to get through.
“…Excuse me…Pardon me… Hi, I just wanna get over there… Sorry, didn’t mean to step on your foot… excuse me…” And so it went. As they inched closer to the kitchen, a short, broad-shouldered man wearing a taupe cowboy hat jammed his hand in a red cooler full of ice, pulled out a bottle of beer, and popped the cap with an opener.
“Here,” the guy said, offering it to him.
“Thank you.” Jack chugged the cool beverage. He stayed a few paces behind Kim but kept her in his sights. For just a moment, there was a gap in the path, and he could see clearly in front of him. His eyes practically burned a hole into her backside. She’s got a real nice ass. Kim’s sudden laughter transported him away from his hedonistic thoughts as she finally reached Martha and wrapped her arms around the woman. Before he knew it, Martha threw her short, plump arms around him, too.