And here's nine.
Life Happens chapter nine: The New Start
The next morning, Morgana left her room and headed to the kitchen. Rhonde was in there, doing something with a large black box attached to the wall.
"Morning," she called over her shoulder.
"Are we to go get breakfast now?" Morgana asked innocently. Rhonde turned around.
"Honey, we don't go out and kill our food every morning." She walked over to the young native. "Usually, you walk to the cupboard or the freezer, pull something out-cereal, whatever-and eat it. If it's from the freezer, you throw it in the microwave and zap it."
"It's not fresh?" Morgana was confused, and already wanted to go home. At least she knew at to cook at home.
"Oh, it's fresh. Fresh from the microwave. In the city you have to eat faster, so that you can get where you're going faster. That's the way life is. Now," she said when a timer went off. "How about a breakfast burrito?"
The day was Saturday and they had nothing to do, except for one essay Rhonde had to complete for a sociology class. Morgana was left to do what she wanted. Rhonde had promised to go with her to enroll after the paper was finished. Until then, Morgana moved the largest furniture in the living room against the walls then changed into the outfit from her parents.
Barefooted, she stepped into the living room. She began with some of the stretches Rippling Water had taught her. She had learned that if muscles were not stretched properly they could be injured to the point of no use. She spent a good half hour on her stretches. By the time Rhonde had stepped from her room at the other end into the kitchen, she had been training for over two hours. Rhonde stopped in her tracks to the kitchen when she spotted Morgana in the living room, knife in hand.
"Morg, what are you doing?" she asked in a calm, low voice. Morgana stopped and turned around.
"Hello, Rhonde. I'm just practicing."
"Practicing what?" Rhonde looked confused.
"Things I learned at home. Moves that keep my body strong and agile."
"And the knife?" she pointed to it in Morgana's hand. She looked at it as though it were a part of her.
"These were more...fighting moves than stretching." Rhonde's brow raised. "I use to challenge the young men of my tribe. To test my skills and strength." She sheathed the knife.
"Ever get beaten?" Rhonde asked helping replace the furniture.
"Only when my father took me on." She smiled at the memory.
"You miss them." It was a comment, then the question, "What's with the outfit?"
"My parents made this for me." She looked to the top and bottom. "Something to always remember them by." She sat down on the couch across from Rhonde.
"Looks comfy. And the arm things?"
"My grandfather, Chief Whispering Wind, gave them to me."
"So you're a princess?" Rhon inquired.
"Not exactly." Rhonde waved a hand as if to go on. "I'm what you would call...adopted. My father did not conceive me." She looked down with the shame her tribe had once felt.
"That's cool. Are you and...the man you call your father close?"
"Extremely close." She raised her head. "He gave me my first bow and quiver. I still have them."
"In your room?" Morgana shook her head. "Come on." She dragged Morgana into her room. She went and sat on the bed while Rhonde looked around. "Interesting. Lot's of hides."
"Hides are important. They cloth us, give us bedding, and keeps us warm."
"Here we have the GAP, Serta mattresses, and General Electric for that." Morgana looked at her. "Never mind. Later." She went on looking around. Starting at the hide hanging by the door, to the plants on the dresser, the large hide by the bed and stopped at the worn bridle. She was about to touch it when Morgana stopped her.
"Please. That's the one thing I ask you not to touch. It's very sacred to me." She dropped her hand and her head.
"I didn't mean anything by it." Rhonde paused. "It's the most beautiful bridle I think I've ever seen. Handmade?"
Morgana shook her head. "My father made it. It and others as we grew. They're not hung."
"You have a horse? What's her name?" Rhonde was interested totally now.
"Had. I had a horse. His name was Ravenhold. My father gave him to me when I was five."
"I thought...What happened to him?" Rhonde was confused, and reminded herself to ask more questions later about this girl's past.
"Can we go enroll me now? I don't want to talk about it." She fought hard to keep her tears back, and nearly won.
"Okay. Get dressed and we can go," Rhonde said slipping out, 'Oops,' passing through her mind.
Morgana dressed, but had to stop when she couldn't see through the tears. Rhonde came in then, finding her crying in just her underwear. "Easy, child. Just let it out," she encouraged, rocking the younger woman. "Jus' let it out."
When the tears had stopped and she had finished dressing the two headed out. They went to the administrative office and parked in front. Rhonde led her to the attendance office then told her she would be back after dropping off a paper. So Morgana was alone again.
Head held high, she walked into the crowed office. Before she could grab hold of the door handle a young man, probably twenty-one with auburn red hair and dangerously green eyes, stormed out, angry about something. "Watch it," he barked, a voice with no accent but many. He turned for a second and spotted the earth skinned lady that had blocked his exit. Nostrils flaring, he left in a huff. Thinking she might see him in a class, she continued about her business. When she had finished, Rhonde was waiting outside for her. Together they left campus and headed for lunch.
Monday rolled around, and the two prepared for class. Rhonde came out in silver snake skin pants and matching boots, a tight black short sleeve shirt and a hot pink jacket. Her hair was up in loose, red curls everywhere. Again Morgana was shocked, but said nothing. Her own attire was simpler. A sage green off shoulder shirt with long, flaring sleeves, a denim skirt that fell just above her knees. A large leather belt and the boots her father had made completed the look.
"Don't you look nice," Rhonde complimented. "But let's do something with your hair. You're already making a great impression. How about an unforgettable one?" So Rhonde set to work on her hair. A couple minutes later they walked out, Morgana with a new hair do.
"Okay, this is your locker, next to mine. You'll keep your books and whatever you don't need at the moment in here. You can decorate it if you like, but I don't suggest bringing in hides." They both had a laugh at that. "I'll show you to class, and...Hey, are you listening?" Rhonde said once she noticed Morgana was no longer with her.
"Uh, sorry." Morgana kept scanning the room. Rhonde's words seemed to just fly by.
"Looking for someone?" Rhonde asked in a tight voice.
"Saturday I nearly got ran over by this guy with auburn hair and the most gorgeous green eyes. I was wondering if he's here."
"You're describing someone sounding remarkably like Jackson Hooper." Rhonde eyed the native. "If he's here, you'll probably never see him again. Tends to disappear and show up only to turn things in. Come on," she said shutting her locker. "Don't want to be late on the first day." Rhonde showed Morgana to her first class, informed the teacher that she was new and had never been in a big city before, then left wishing her good luck.
"Good morning, miss..." the professor said handing her a text book.
"Greywolf. Morgana Greywolf," she filled in.
"Is 'Morgana' alright to call you by?" She shook her head yes. "You're in luck. We just had a student drop out. Though I don't know why, with this being his last semester his senior year; but oh, well. Please have a seat. Class, this is miss Morgana Greywolf. She's joining our class this semester. Does anyone have any quick questions for miss Greywolf? If that's alright?" He looked towards her in the back. A young blond guy in the front raised his hand. "Yes, Jason. You have a question."
"I was just wondering...Where are you from?" the strikingly handsome junior directed to Morgana.
She answered, "I come from a reservation two days ride from Colorado Springs."
"So you're Native?" another asked.
"Yes. Cherokee," she said proudly.
"Very interesting. Now, class, shall we get to work? You can ask Miss Morgana questions later. I'm sure she's very fascinating."
When class ended all of the students rushed out. Morgana gathered her stuff, got up, and started to leave when Mr. Lenski spoke to her.
"It will be nice have you in class, miss Morgana. You seem to know quite a bit about law already. See you tomorrow."
"Thank you, sir." She walked out smiling and looking at her schedule and right into Jason, dropping all of her books. "I am so sorry...I"
"It's okay, Morgana. Here." He bent and picked up her books. "I'm Jason Princeton. Trying to find your next class?" He held the books for a moment.
"Yeah." She sounded frustrated. "Catching a spring buck that has been spooked is easier than finding my way around here," she said flipping the paper over and over.
"Here. Let's see where you're going now. Sociology with Mrs. Gibbs. You're in luck." He smiled. "I'm heading that way." He handed her the paper back. She took her books as well.
"Thank you," she said, the relief in her voice.
"I don't know anything about catching spring bucks that have been spooked, but I do know something. You'll get the hang of this place quicker than you think. It all ends up being a pattern."
"Think so, Mr. Princeton." She paused, thought a moment then spoke again. "Your last name is 'Princeton' and you go to Harvard."
"It is funny, isn't it," he laughed with her. "Class is this way."
End chapter nine. Ooo, is there a new love in the picture now? Wait and see.
