Quileute Days
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters and Quileute Days is actually celebrated in La Push...so, no I didn't make that up either. I would like to go some day. ^-^ Mmm hmmm.
It's July and it has been unseasonably warm this summer, the amount of rainy days steadily dropping and for everyone on the Olympic Peninsula it has been like a vacation but at home. The weather is looking promising for this year's Quileute Days which means the Makah, Sioux and Quileutes coming together, camping out, bonfires, tribal dancing, old stories being passed around, and booths of all kinds opening and selling all sorts of things ranging from tribal bracelets to canoes and from delicious fry bread to beer will have perfect weather.
You've been engaged to Jacob for about 4-months now and I've heard, from Kim who heard from Rachel, that you're steadily pulling your wedding plans together. There is no rushing and there are no phone conversations between us talking about different ideas and plans for your wedding. It's what we had always talked and joked about doing when we were finally engaged. We were going to plan out every detail together, visit every venue together and taste test every food item together.
For my wedding you didn't even bother showing up for the planning when I invited you. You did show up one time and one time only but that was for a luncheon that guaranteed free food. But then the rest of your pack had shown up as well and instead of discussing the food, cake and decorations with me; you instead had the conversation with Jacob.
At the time I just assumed that you were talking to him about everything to spite me; to prove to me that you still had an interest in these kinds of things but just didn't want to do any of it with me. Every time Jacob would comment on something, you'd stand there, eyeing the article and then finally comment about how it would or wouldn't work with the color scheme that the two of you were discussing was a slap in the face. Even now the realization that Jacob was there with you when I couldn't even talk Sam into considering tagging along was a double slap in the face.
But I suppose I've had my fair share of slaps to the face to last me a lifetime; first imprinting, Sam and then finally you. As I walk around looking at all of the different booths and smile at the passing and familiar faces I think that maybe I should just open a booth myself.
One dollar to slap Emily Uley in the face! Why? Well because she callously broke her cousin's heart, stole her fiancé and at every chance she gets rubs it in Leah's face that she has Sam Uley now and forever. Step right up! Step right up!
I let out a sigh as I continue on walking by, shaking my head at an old woman trying to convince me to buy some of her fry bread. I used to run a booth; we both ran one together back when we were little girls. We'd run back and forth in between working your grandmother's booth where she sold her handmade woven blankets and your father's booth where he sold his wood carvings and canoes. One year, the year before Sam's transformation, we both had open and ran our own booth; you made and sold fry bread while I sold muffins. Everybody bought up our food to the point that we had to close down early for the day.
I didn't know it then but you had talked every boy and man that walked up to our booth into buy my muffins. None of them really saw the 'cultural' point of having muffins at an event that was meant to celebrate tribe and Native American pride. The truth came to me my first year of being with Sam; I'd put in my request for the booth, Sam and the boys had all helped me out, carrying everything over and even the other imprints had helped me bake. However, Kim and Rachel didn't seem too excited about the idea and the day of Rachel had tried to 'suggest' that I sale some fry bread as well. The problem is that I've never been able to make good fry bread. I don't know why; it's just a – it's like a curse.
But I had brushed her off saying that everything would be fine.
I wish I hadn't because my booth was a complete bust. A few people bought the muffins but with so many other things around it just didn't seem necessary to eat blueberry muffins. William Mason, a crude and extremist in tribe pride, had called me a 'red Martha Stewart sale out'. He and Sam had choice words after that comment but at that point the damage had already been done.
Sam had tried to get the boys to buy my muffins but the problem was that none of them had any money. Besides it was just easier and cheaper if they waited around for the end of the day and then gorged themselves on my muffins for free.
I hear a laugh that causes me to stop in my steps and as I look around I suddenly realize that I've wandered over into the arts-n-craft section. The laughter is so light, carefree and reminds me of good days gone – long gone. It's you; you're standing underneath a sheltered booth, one hand resting on your hip and the other planted firmly on the table. You're wearing a simple pair of jeans and a dark green tank top and the way you're leaning forward towards the boy before you I know that you're haggling with him.
My eyes can't help but widen at the realization that you've opened up a booth this year; you've not worked a booth since – since your father died. You and the boy stand going back and forth talking about a small wooden sculpture of a wolf. He's trying to get you to lower the price but you're remaining steadfast. I move closer towards your booth and it looks like you've got the largest booth this year.
The walls are lined with paintings and the tables filled with everything from bracelets, earrings, rings and wooden figurines and sculptures; there's even a pair of canoes in the far back hanging up on a make-shift wall. My eyes widen at everything; everything that you and your boys have made.
"Hey Emily." I look up from an intricate bracelet made of string and beads to see Jacob standing on the other side of the table. He gives me a weak smile and I return one of my own.
Things are strained between me and the rest of your pack; Jacob especially. Neither of us really knows how to address the other because you and I aren't exactly on the best of terms yet. Polite, formal and the usual every day conversations have become the extent of our interactions; a 'hey' or 'hello' followed up with an awkward 'how are you?' and 'good' back.
"Interested in buying?" Jacob asks nodding his head down at the bracelet in my hand. I look down at it, up at him and over at you. "She didn't make it, I did." Jacob answers the question that was hanging in my head.
"Oh," I say before looking around. You've always been very good with your hands; creating beautiful pieces of work since you were 4. According to Harry, it's always been a natural talent you have to take the simplest thing and make it into something more; something beautiful and worthwhile.
"She didn't make a whole lot of bracelets this year." Jacob says pulling my attention back in. I notice his dark side glance as he looks back over at you, now teasing the boy as he stands blushing.
"It's a secret talent of hers." I whisper to Jacob with a small smile.
"Yea, believe me I know." Jacob admits as he shakes his head and you reach over and lightly touch the boy's arm. "And she's closed the deal." He grumbles as the boy nods his head and reaches into his back pocket pulling out his wallet.
"She's been doing that since she was 7," I say continuing our conversation. "She's always talked people into buying her wares using her big brown eyes, her sweet smile and eventually," I begin but stop as I hear a low growl. Looking up I notice Jacob glaring at me darkly, there's a warning his gaze and I look down and hang my head in shame. Without realizing it I must've sounded very spiteful about your tactics.
A part of me can't help but resent Leah's easy nature and her ability to just lure people towards her. Even Harry used Leah to sell his goods; it was hard for people to say 'no' to the adorable little girl with the big, soft brown eyes, the small button nose, that sweet and contagious smile. Because of Leah's ties through Sue to the Makahs, Harry was able to sell canoes to them as well by simply telling them that Leah had helped make it. Leah's both Quileute and Makah giving her a tie to both tribes; she's everyone's daughter, sister and friend.
"Not working this year?" Jacob asks shaking his head and clearing the growl out of his throat. I shake my head 'no' and I know that I've hit the limit to our conversation. I silently berate myself as Jacob lets out a heavy sigh and frowns over at you, you're finishing up with the boy and wave him good bye.
"Sold your wolf for fifteen bucks." You declare proudly as you tuck your hands into the apron you have around your waist. "Emily," You greet with a nod of your head. I open my mouth to give my greeting back but someone beats me to it.
"Leah? Leah Clearwater?" A deep voice calls out. We all turn around and even though I can't see your face, I know your eyes light up and a huge smile breaks out across your face as you walk up and hug the man. He's about your height, maybe a few inches taller than you, but he's white, with sandy brown hair, light green eyes and even with the simple t-shirt and jeans I can tell he works out.
Sam walks up and stands beside me as you and the man comment on one another's looks and presence. I suddenly feel small as Jacob and Sam both turn to face this new man that has garnered so much of your attention; both of their arms crossed tightly across their chests, both their jaws squared and I'm certain teeth clenched.
"Aaron I can't believe it's you." You say as you shake his shoulders lightly and laughing. "I've missed you!"
"Can't believe me? I can't believe you!" Aaron throws back, his hands resting on your waist. It looks awkward with a table in between the two of you but it also looks very natural. "You have no idea how much I've missed you. It's been what? Two years?"
"I know, at least." You throw out.
Another man shows up, this one much older than Aaron but with the same light green eyes as his hair is a salt and pepper color.
"Dad, look who I found." Aaron says throwing his father a quick glance before turning back to you.
"Mr. Gene!" Leah cries and wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a big hug.
Gene and Aaron Hayworth are regulars to the Quileute Days and any other tribal event going on in the Olympic Peninsula. The story is that Gene has ties to the Quileute tribe through a grandmother who remarried, after her husband died, a pale face. Leah has known these two since she was 3-years old as they've always frequented Harry's booth buying up his figures, bracelets and eventually Leah's paintings.
Turns out the two of them have been out east; Aaron working on his masters in art history and Gene was dealing with the passing of his wife, she died of breast cancer a year ago. The three catch up like old friends and I feel myself tearing up as you tell them about Harry; Gene even sheds a tear at the news and Aaron gives you a hug. He must whisper something to you a little too personal or intimate because both Jacob and Sam growl.
"We've missed an awful lot then, huh?" Gene asks as the two of you both wipe away tears. "But I'm glad to see that you've managed to pick up where he left off." Gene says with a proud smile.
"Yea, we've fallen behind in our tribal art and have a lot of catching up to do." Aaron adds giving you a wink.
Gene and Aaron have always been the biggest spenders at these kinds of events. Gene being a retired stock broker and supposedly coming from a wealthy family anyway they just have money to spend; and they always spend the majority of it at the Clearwater booth.
With a nod you turn and usher them to the back of the stand where there are a few paintings and wooden sculptures. Aaron pauses for a moment and looks at the small group of us that have been watching his interactions with you closely. He looks from each of us with an appraising eye and I feel insulted when he gives me a cold, disgusted and disapproving glare. Sam wraps his arm around me and that only seems to make Aaron smirk as there is an 'I knew it' look to his face. Aaron, obviously, recognizes Sam as he and Leah dated the last few years he was here. His glare makes me feel ashamed and I find myself unable to meet his eyes any longer.
"I wasn't sure if you two were going to show up this year." You say with a huge smile on your face. "I missed you the year Daddy passed away."
"Yea, no one had said that he died. Just that you were all going through some 'trials' and didn't have a booth." Gene says softly as part of the truth hits him again.
"Yea, but in that time I've had a lot of time to think and I've got something especially for you, Mr. Gene." You say proudly.
At this point a small crowd has gathered around to see what Leah has for her two favorite customers. It's been years since Leah participated in Quileute Days; if Sam was the Golden Boy of La Push because of his strong loyalties and pride in his heritage; it's only fitting that his girl be the same way. Leah was undoubtedly the Golden Girl as she could dance, sing, cook, craft and sculpt for the celebrations. Leah has always had at least two hands into some activity going on and her absence, since her and Sam's break up, was noticed and greatly missed.
Although she's not dancing, singing or cooking this year there is still a high energy in the air over what she could've made. Every vendor knows that you keep your absolute best work hidden in the back to keep common eyes from tainting it.
In the back, you show them figures of wolves running; Jacob chuckles at the irony as that is what most of your work seems to consist of. Gene and Aaron carry the pieces to the front to get a better look at them in the sunlight. I've never been the 'artsy' type of person but I can see the time, detailing and effort that went into each piece. The fine lines marking the fur, the intricate shaving to make the teeth and the care that went into each expressive eye.
It's easy for me to pick out Seth, Embry, Quil, Jake and even Paul among the pieces. You've managed to capture a part of their personality in each one. Wolves maybe clichéd for Native Americans, like buffalos and totems, but everyone gathers around to awe and marvel at the near life-like wolves. Some running, others fighting and there's even one howling with its head thrown back.
Aaron and Gene find themselves at a loss over which ones they want to purchase; and as they debate there are others who are making bids for the pieces that aren't getting that much attention from the pair.
Somehow everyone that wants a sculpture seems to work out an agreement with Gene and Aaron leaving every sculpture crafted by hands – sold.
"Alright, what about paintings? Do you have any this year?" Aaron asks as Quil and Embry work on wrapping up and distributing the pieces sold. The crowd has gotten bigger since Gene and Aaron's first arrival and it seems that word has gotten around that Leah is unveiling the work from her 'hiatus'.
You quickly nod your head and Jacob moves to help you bring the paintings forward. I'm amazed at how much you have to sell this year; you've already sold 17 wooden wolf statues. Is all of this really the culmination of the last 2-years?
You unveil your paintings and they captivate people even more than your wolves did. Your paintings are of some wolves but there are also beautiful landscapes from around the peninsula. There's even a painting of all the Elders surrounding a bonfire. I'm amazed at how you've managed to bring our every day lives and activities to life with just oil, paint and a canvas.
Gene automatically falls in love with every painting that you show but Aaron seems to hold back; his interest not really piquing to just one. I think Aaron loses his brownie points with Jacob as he casually picks up your sketchbook and begins flipping through it. You never let just anyone look through it but you seem perfectly fine with it as you stand next to him waiting for his response.
"I want this one," Aaron says finally settling on a page and pointing to a sketch that I can't see.
You look down at it, a small frown forming your face, before you nod your head and walk towards the truck that is parked out back. You soon return, Seth in tow, carrying a few more covered canvasses.
An easel has been set up to hold up each of the paintings allowing everyone a chance to look and appraise each work at their leisure. You hand Aaron a fairly large canvas and he gives you a questioning look as if asking if you're okay with this particular one being displayed. You nod your head and he sets it up and carefully begins to unwrap it. It's a painting of you. You're naked in the photo but you're sitting just so with your knees bent and legs crossed that it's not only beautiful but tasteful. But what really capture me are your eyes. In your eyes there is just so much hurt, pain and sorrow in them. There is a small frown on your face as your head is tilted so that it's resting on your forearm, your, what used to be, long black hair has been pulled to one side hanging over your left shoulder and your right hand is lightly toying with a purple flower.
In the painting you look so small, vulnerable and sad that it breaks my heart; yet there's also an underlying strength in them that seems defiant.
From there more and more emotional and meaningful paintings are pulled out and with each one I get a glimpse into your soul, who you are, what you've been through and every step deeper and deeper I begin to feel sick to my stomach because I'm partly to blame for this.
Not all of the paintings are just about pain but some even of your healing. Aaron frowns and casts a hard look at Jacob before turning back to the painting. It's of you and Jacob in a moment just before an embrace. It's intimate and so personal because you're both naked or at least from the small of your back up you are. Your back is to the viewer, with your head turned to the side, giving a view of your profile. There is a far off gaze in your eye and it's obvious that you're trying to avoid Jacob's. Jacob stands in front of you, part of his body hidden behind your form, his eyes looking down intently trying to get you to meet his gaze, a firm hand gently cupping your face.
Aaron agrees to buy all of your paintings and looks like he even puts in a few requests for some of uncompleted sketches in your book. Details are worked out on how to get everything that they've purchased from the rez back to their home in Seattle. You're more than pleased about the turn of events as there is now a perpetual smile across your face every time I see you turn.
"I've got something extra special for you, Mr. Gene." You call as out almost as if what you have is important and much needed. "This is what I really wanted you to see."
You pick up a huge box and all eyes widen and there's a collective gasp that ushers throughout the crammed area as you reveal a wooden bust of Harry. It's a perfect likeness of your father from his sage and loving eyes and even down to the fine wrinkles that had started to appear the last few months of his life. The bust, although made of wood, seems to breathe and the hair, finely detailed, looks as if it could blow in the breeze that has picked up.
"It's made of redwood," You begin to explain and your voice wavers and cracks as your eyes shine with unshed tears and pride. The bust makes you very emotional and as I chance a look around it makes the older people emotional as well. "The head is one whole piece, the neck and shoulders had to be made separately." I look at you, Leah, as you continue explaining how much you put into it, the tools used to carve out the details and how long it's taken you.
This is a piece that has taken you 2-years to complete. Gene and Aaron are not only touched by the piece of art but are rendered speechless by it. Looking up at you I'm confused for a moment because I don't recognize you. You're not the angry, bitter, hurt and spiteful spirit warrior that mocked, insulted and spurned me your senior year in high school. You're not even the girl, best friend or cousin that I've loved for what seems like forever.
You, Leah Michelle Clearwater, have become a completely different person to me in this moment. In this moment, I realize that I know nothing, truly, about the woman before me. The woman before me is strong, beautiful, talented, emotional, warm-hearted and loving. This is a woman who only wishes to surround herself with those that she love and who love her back. Pain, although unavoidable, she's ready to accept and, right now, embrace with open arms.
Long gone is my cousin that would fight my battles for me, that'd sweet talk any boy into buying my muffins, the cousin that loved Sam Uley with all her heart that when he, we broke it there was nothing left but a cold husk.
"It's – it's beautiful, Leah." Gene breathes out.
"It looks just like Harry." Aaron adds as he kneels down and looks into the face of a man that hasn't been seen in over 3-years.
"I know, I missed him so much," Leah admits with a nod. "There was just so much going on around the time that he died," She pauses as she swallows the emotional lump in her throat. "I was – I was afraid that I'd lose my memories; I had lost so much so soon." I suddenly feel eyes boring into my back and the back of my head as I tense at her words, the hurt and pain in her voice; the truth of Leah's situation at the time.
"Oh, Leah, it's amazing but we can't take this – it belongs to," Gene begins but is cut off as Leah quickly shakes her head.
"No, I made this for you." Leah says adamantly. "There are two others; one of my own and one for my mother. You always joked about how we never did much with people,"
"Harry said it was because a human figure would have to hold some significant value; it just couldn't be of some random person." Aaron fills in for her. "What's a human without a,"
"Soul." Leah finishes. "I thought I had lost mine and what little I thought I had left was put into this one. When I finished them, all of them, I knew there were only so few people that I'd want to give it to. So…this is my gift to you for always believing in me." Leah says and she looks down at the ground.
For some reason, Gene moves Leah away, out of earshot for us normal humans, but I'm certain that every wolf present can hear exactly what is being said. Whatever Gene is saying to Leah must really touch her because she hugs him, holds onto him with all her might as he tells her something while stroking her back.
"You're a real lucky guy," Aaron says seriously standing up and giving Jacob a hard glare. "You better take excellent care of her."
"Believe me, I know and I wouldn't ever dream of hurting her." Jacob states back looking back at Aaron.
"You won't be so lucky to still see her everyday if you do." Aaron adds with a hard frown before replacing it with a smile as Leah walks up to him and into his arms for an embrace. The comment catches all of us off guard and to prove a point Aaron promises Leah that he'll always be there for her if she needs him; after congratulating her on the engagement.
I eventually move on, dragging Sam with me and decide to see what else Quileute Days have to offer us. I find myself at a loss of what to do and make of this new realization that I've come across. How do you become friends again with someone that you've hurt the most and in the worst possible way? Is it possible for me to connect with this new Leah in some way? As I look up at Sam I can't help but wonder if he's thinking the same thing as me? At one point the two of us were Leah's closest friends…and now? Now she'd much rather show the whole world her most vulnerable moments then confide in either of us.
Step right up. Hurry! Hurry! Come and deliver a slap in the face to Emily Uley. Say that Leah Clearwater sent you and get two slaps for the price of one.
A/N: So this idea has been rattling around in my head for a few weeks now and I was finally able to get it out. I've been dealing with a problem for the last week or so now and I've told only a few people but I think I'm going to just put it out there – I believe I've hit my angst plateau. What does this mean? Well it means that Kei is pulling away from all of her dark and angst-ridden stories for the moment.
*sniffles* This really may affect…Decision, First Come Love, Leah's Propaganda, Redemption, Wake-up Call and Worth Waiting For; as these stories deal with a lot of angry, disappointment, resentment, jealousy, envy and whatever kind of negativity I can work in there.
But, of course, everyone's top concern is Wake-up Call. I have an idea of how the story will work out but the emotions and descriptions I put into it helps keep it on track. This story originally came to me back in Tokyo as I was forced to share a single bed with my Mum who loves to grit her teeth in her sleep, mumble and roll over on top of me. So…yea, I wasn't in a good place or good mood during that time.
I DO have part of the next chapter for Wake-up Call typed up and I'm going to try and expound on it more since I wound up breaking it up in the last chapter. I just don't want to short change my own ideal and you guys in the story by sudden lethargy and mental laziness.
I'm not done with writing altogether and especially not Blackwater but I might need to do something a bit more light-hearted before getting back into the heavier and more negative emotions again. I do plan on wrapping up Redemption soon as I've worked out a loophole to deal with my own personal issues here. But than again someone could post like a truly delicious and heart wrenching angst story that could get the juices flowing. Just that right now for the last 6-months I've been reading nothing but stories that anger, frustrate and annoy me; I'm just weary of them and have moved onto something light and with a bit more intrigue oh Alexandre Dumas's Viscount de Bragelonne you will not let me down. *hugs book and sighs*
Oh! And I just have to share this with you guys because it had me cracking up like an idiot in my car. Yesterday, after posting, Squirrel Love I pick my niece up from pre-school and on our way back home a cop car speeds past us, no lights or sirens, and so I just ignore it and go on. But like 60-ft down the street the cops just sped away from was a dead squirrel lying in the middle of the road. Seeing that squirrel just had me into tears thinking about that story and now my niece thinks her Addie crazy. LOL. Oh, good times. Good times.
Alright, so you all know what to do. You can make my day by reviewing or you can be just totally and completely selfish by not saying anything about the story or the update whatsoever. T-T I just poured my heart and soul (partly) out to you guys and gals so the least you can do is give me a response back. If you don't well…*sighs* that's fine but 'shame on you'!