Chapter 15: Colors of the Wind
"Pocahontas!"
Immediately, Pocahontas flinched and turned to the girl next to her who was also Native American but with shorter hair. "Yes, Nakoma?"
"You weren't listening to me, were you?" said the girl named Nakoma.
"No, sorry," Pocahontas replied.
"You've got someone on your mind, don't you?" Nakoma asked.
"Not really," Pocahontas lied.
"You're blushing," Nakoma pointed.
"I am?" Pocahontas turned away as the two walked out of the main building. "I must be catching a cold."
"You can't fool me," Nakoma said. "You're thinking about your engagement to Kocuom, right?"
"Um, no."
"Really?" Nakoma sighed. "I'm actually quite jealous, you know. He's quite handsome."
"Especially his smile," Pocahontas joked.
"Well, you can't blame him for not smiling lately," Nakoma said defensively. "He's busy finishing up college."
"And he's worried about the gangs that are causing trouble lately."
"Especially the Huns, those guys are definitely up to no good."
Then before Pocahontas could reply, her phone started ringing and so she answered it. "Hello?"
"Pocahontas," replied a deep stoic voice.
"Father," Pocahontas said happily. "What's up?"
"I've got a lot of work to do. The Town Council is meeting to decide what do about the street gangs, so I'm sending Kocuom to pick you up."
"Can Nakoma come along?" Pocahontas asked.
"Of course she can. I'll see you later tonight."
"Okay, bye, father."
"What is it?" asked Nakoma as Pocahontas hung up.
"That was father. He's sending Kocuom to pick us up because he has a lot of work."
"You don't sound too happy about it."
"No, I'm—
Before Pocahontas could finish her sentence, John Smith appeared from behind a tree and approached her and Nakoma.
"Pocahontas," John said standing before her. "Hey."
"Hi," Pocahontas said shyly. "What are you doing here?"
"I had to see you again," John replied.
"Have you two met before?" Nakoma said looking between Pocahontas and John.
"Pocahontas!" cried a voice that steadfast and masculine.
"That's Kocuom," Nakoma said. "We should get going."
"I've changed my mind," Pocahontas said, taking John's hand. "Tell Kocuom I decided to walk home today, but don't mention who I'm going with. Please."
Nakoma was about to say something, but Pocahontas and John were already heading down the sidewalk. She suddenly heard her name called, and saw a tall Native American youth with a serious face and a bear-paw emblem on the breast-pocket of his shirt.
"Yes, Kocuom," Nakoma asked shyly.
"Where's Pocahontas?" the tall youth asked.
"She decided to…walk home," Nakoma said rubbing her shoulder.
Kocuom grumbled. "Pocahontas can't keep running off like that. It's dangerous on the streets with the Hun and Pandemonium gangs preparing for war. Tell her that next time. She usually listens to you."
"Sure she does," Nakoma muttered as she followed Kocuom to his car.
###
"I'm sorry I had to drag you away like that," Pocahontas apologized once she and John were far enough away from the school. "It's just that I didn't want you to be seen by a certain someone."
"And who would that be?" John asked, sounding interested.
"Kocuom," Pocahontas said bluntly.
"Who's he?"
"My soon-to-be fiancée."
John's eyebrow raised. "How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"And Kocuom?"
"Twenty-three."
"That's a significant age-gap. Was this your idea?"
"No, it was my father's. My family and Kocuom's are really close and so now that I'm of marriageable age my father thinks it would be a good idea to marry Kocuom for a steady and prosperous future after I graduate high-school."
"So there's no real way of backing out of it."
"I haven't said 'yes' to the engagement yet, but I fear I might have to though I don't think it's the right path for me."
"Who says that?"
"Well, there's this…dream I've had lately where I see a spinning arrow that spins constantly, going faster each time, but then it stops just as I'm about to wake up."
"That's interesting, yet it could be just a dream."
"I take it from your sarcastic tone that you don't believe in dreams."
"Not exactly. They could mean something, or nothing at all. It's hard to tell, so I choose not to believe in them."
"But if you close yourself off to them, then you'll never fully know."
"I suppose, but what can a dream about, say, colors in the wind tell me about what's going on my life right now?"
"Tell me more about it," Pocahontas said excitedly. "Then maybe I can ask Mrs. Willow to interpret it for you."
"Mrs. Willow? The Student Counselor?"
"Yes, that's her."
"I didn't take her for the type to be into dream-interpretation, but I'll see what she has to say."
Then the rest of the way, John told Pocahontas everything about his dream that involved colors in the wind. Pocahontas listened to every word he said, though she couldn't keep her eyes off his face. It was then she noticed something sticking out of his pocket.
"What is that?" Pocahontas asked, pointing at John's breast-pocket.
"It's my compass," John said taking it out. It was very round and rusted, but the red arrow inside it still moved.
"What do you need a compass for?" Pocahontas said taking the compass from John's hand and looking at it with bemusement.
"It's a keepsake, from my foster father."
"Who's that?"
"Ratcliffe."
"Ratcliffe? As in the senator?"
"Yeah, he used to run a foster home before he became senator. I met a lot of my current friends there, though only my best friend Thomas and I are the only ones left. All the others moved away."
"That's too bad."
"Not really. It was bad when Ratcliffe ran things, but now that he's doing bigger things he doesn't have time to run a foster home anymore."
"So who's running it in his stead?"
"Ratcliffe's buddy Wiggens, but he's a lot nicer than Ratcliffe."
"Well that's good."
"Anyway, I need to head in this direction," John said as he and Pocahontas approached a crossroads. "Where's your house?"
"That way," Pocahontas said, pointing down the street opposite to the one John pointed to.
"Oh," John said, sounding disappointed. "Well, it was nice talking to you."
"Same here," Pocahontas said waving. "I'll tell Mrs. Willow about your dream."
"Okay."
After a few paces, Pocahontas realized she was still holding onto John's compass. She looked back at the street John went down, but he was too far away.
"I'll give it back to him tomorrow," Pocahontas said then as she noticed the arrow moving she realized, "Wait a minute. Could John Smith be who the arrow was pointing to in my dream?"
End of Chapter 15
