Uncivilized
Page 67
I laughed behind his back and, the first time I had sex, I soon realized it was the best feeling in the world. I wasn’t about to stop. I never told Father Gaul that, though.
“Father Gaul has been gone a long time,” I mused. While the Caraicans were slightly more open to the prospect of conversion to the Christian word, they still worshipped their own spirits and deities. Father Gaul would come and spend a few months with us, and then he’d move on to another tribe. He single-handedly kept me up on my English-speaking skills, as he was the only one that spoke my native language that we ever saw. He also brought me books to read and taught me how to do basic math. He taught me history and geography of both the old and new worlds. He told me I would probably need it one day, but I wasn’t sure why. I had everything I needed to know to live my peaceful but sometimes solitary life.
“Yes… he had to make a trip back to the United States on an important matter,” Paraila said.
“I’ll make sure to hunt something good for his arrival,” I replied as I leaned back on the dirt ground and rested my head on my hands.
“He’s bringing some other people with him,” Paraila said, and his voice sounded hesitant.
Shrugging my shoulders, I responded, “No matter. I will provide plenty of meat for his guests.”
“These people are coming for you,” Paraila said and his voice was so soft, I’m sure I didn’t hear him right.
Pushing up from the ground, I looked him in the eye and saw fear, sadness, and regret.
“What do you mean coming for me?” I asked with my own level of fear about ready to cause my heart to jump out of my chest.
Paraila reached his hand out again and patted my head. Then he dropped it to my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. His eyes were sorrowful but determined. “It’s time for you to go back home… to where you belong.”
Blinking my eyes, I look at Moira’s sweet face and try to draw upon the rage and hurt I felt when Paraila told me I had to leave.
It’s gone. Absolutely gone. I can’t pull up even a shred of bitterness within me. There are other emotions still there. Longing for my home and a deep and abiding love for Paraila. Those won’t ever go away, but I suddenly realize… I am actually grateful now that I have come here and experienced this journey.
As Moira’s green eyes watch me with curiosity, I realize… it’s due solely to her.
Chapter 20
Moira
“So what did you think?” I ask Zach as we get back into the black Range Rover that Randall loaned us for the length of our stay here. He has several cars that just sit in a huge, climate-controlled garage detached from his mansion.
“It was interesting. But I don’t feel any affinity toward it,” Zach says as he buckles his seatbelt.
We had just exited the church I had chosen to take Zach to for a Wednesday evening worship service. We were both dressed casually in jeans and had eaten at a pizzeria close by for dinner before it started.
“You sound a little bit disgruntled,” I observe.
Zach shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t know what to expect, but it just seems foreign to me. I mean… I remember some of what my parents taught me about Christ, and I listened to Father Gaul’s teachings, but I just don’t have any real connection to it.”
“It’s understandable,” I tell him as I reach over to squeeze his hand before I start the car. “I think faith takes practice and you really haven’t had that.”
“It’s just not my type of faith,” he asserts.
As I pull out onto the highway¸ I ask him, “What is your faith then? What do you believe in?”
Zach is quiet for a moment as he stares out the car window. Finally, he says, “I believe in myself, and I believe in my tribe.”
My heart sinks a bit hearing this because those are clearly Zach’s two main loyalties. Every day that goes by, I fall further under his spell. I want desperately for him to stay here because I’ve become fiercely attached to him in the short time we’ve been together. It’s not just the unbelievable sex, and the sad realization that when he goes, I’ll never have something so amazing ever again. It’s because as I’ve gotten to know Zach, I’ve come to understand the purity of his soul and appreciate the courage with which he has faced this new life of his. He’s kind, patient, and curious. His laugh comes easily now, and when those blue eyes turn my way, whether it’s in lust or levity, I immediately fall slave to the power he holds over me.
He has thoroughly possessed me, and he has no clue. He has no idea the power he holds, and he clearly has no idea that my heart is now involved too. I only wish it weren’t so, because I have a feeling I’m going to be destroyed when he goes.
“I believe in you,” Zach says quietly, and my head snaps over to look at him.
He stares back at me, his eyes shimmering with intensity. I hold his gaze for only a moment before I have to turn it back to the road.
“You do?” I ask, my throat tight with emotion over the prospect that maybe he finds something else within me other than a willing body.
“I do,” is all he says, but it’s enough for now.
We make a quick stop at a local drugstore, as I have to pick up a few things like shampoo, and Zach needs some more razors to shave his face.
He carries the hand basket while I take my time walking the hair product and cosmetic aisles. He’s always patient when we go out shopping, and I expect it’s because he finds extreme interest in it. Not like most men who would rather be immersed in a tank full of hungry sharks. But the concept of having your heart’s desire available at a whim is something that I’m sure Zach won’t be used to for a while.
“Father Gaul has been gone a long time,” I mused. While the Caraicans were slightly more open to the prospect of conversion to the Christian word, they still worshipped their own spirits and deities. Father Gaul would come and spend a few months with us, and then he’d move on to another tribe. He single-handedly kept me up on my English-speaking skills, as he was the only one that spoke my native language that we ever saw. He also brought me books to read and taught me how to do basic math. He taught me history and geography of both the old and new worlds. He told me I would probably need it one day, but I wasn’t sure why. I had everything I needed to know to live my peaceful but sometimes solitary life.
“Yes… he had to make a trip back to the United States on an important matter,” Paraila said.
“I’ll make sure to hunt something good for his arrival,” I replied as I leaned back on the dirt ground and rested my head on my hands.
“He’s bringing some other people with him,” Paraila said, and his voice sounded hesitant.
Shrugging my shoulders, I responded, “No matter. I will provide plenty of meat for his guests.”
“These people are coming for you,” Paraila said and his voice was so soft, I’m sure I didn’t hear him right.
Pushing up from the ground, I looked him in the eye and saw fear, sadness, and regret.
“What do you mean coming for me?” I asked with my own level of fear about ready to cause my heart to jump out of my chest.
Paraila reached his hand out again and patted my head. Then he dropped it to my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. His eyes were sorrowful but determined. “It’s time for you to go back home… to where you belong.”
Blinking my eyes, I look at Moira’s sweet face and try to draw upon the rage and hurt I felt when Paraila told me I had to leave.
It’s gone. Absolutely gone. I can’t pull up even a shred of bitterness within me. There are other emotions still there. Longing for my home and a deep and abiding love for Paraila. Those won’t ever go away, but I suddenly realize… I am actually grateful now that I have come here and experienced this journey.
As Moira’s green eyes watch me with curiosity, I realize… it’s due solely to her.
Chapter 20
Moira
“So what did you think?” I ask Zach as we get back into the black Range Rover that Randall loaned us for the length of our stay here. He has several cars that just sit in a huge, climate-controlled garage detached from his mansion.
“It was interesting. But I don’t feel any affinity toward it,” Zach says as he buckles his seatbelt.
We had just exited the church I had chosen to take Zach to for a Wednesday evening worship service. We were both dressed casually in jeans and had eaten at a pizzeria close by for dinner before it started.
“You sound a little bit disgruntled,” I observe.
Zach shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t know what to expect, but it just seems foreign to me. I mean… I remember some of what my parents taught me about Christ, and I listened to Father Gaul’s teachings, but I just don’t have any real connection to it.”
“It’s understandable,” I tell him as I reach over to squeeze his hand before I start the car. “I think faith takes practice and you really haven’t had that.”
“It’s just not my type of faith,” he asserts.
As I pull out onto the highway¸ I ask him, “What is your faith then? What do you believe in?”
Zach is quiet for a moment as he stares out the car window. Finally, he says, “I believe in myself, and I believe in my tribe.”
My heart sinks a bit hearing this because those are clearly Zach’s two main loyalties. Every day that goes by, I fall further under his spell. I want desperately for him to stay here because I’ve become fiercely attached to him in the short time we’ve been together. It’s not just the unbelievable sex, and the sad realization that when he goes, I’ll never have something so amazing ever again. It’s because as I’ve gotten to know Zach, I’ve come to understand the purity of his soul and appreciate the courage with which he has faced this new life of his. He’s kind, patient, and curious. His laugh comes easily now, and when those blue eyes turn my way, whether it’s in lust or levity, I immediately fall slave to the power he holds over me.
He has thoroughly possessed me, and he has no clue. He has no idea the power he holds, and he clearly has no idea that my heart is now involved too. I only wish it weren’t so, because I have a feeling I’m going to be destroyed when he goes.
“I believe in you,” Zach says quietly, and my head snaps over to look at him.
He stares back at me, his eyes shimmering with intensity. I hold his gaze for only a moment before I have to turn it back to the road.
“You do?” I ask, my throat tight with emotion over the prospect that maybe he finds something else within me other than a willing body.
“I do,” is all he says, but it’s enough for now.
We make a quick stop at a local drugstore, as I have to pick up a few things like shampoo, and Zach needs some more razors to shave his face.
He carries the hand basket while I take my time walking the hair product and cosmetic aisles. He’s always patient when we go out shopping, and I expect it’s because he finds extreme interest in it. Not like most men who would rather be immersed in a tank full of hungry sharks. But the concept of having your heart’s desire available at a whim is something that I’m sure Zach won’t be used to for a while.
