Navajo Words and Phrases :
Áyeéh mát'ǫ́ǫ́ʼí, héé'ísh naat'áanii yinílidzin - Sure mother this is why I'm leaving.
Bizaad yázhí doo bííná- He speaks/knows our language.
bináá' dóó aanííní- Soul mates
Chéí- Handsome
bidzill- Magic
"Ana?"
I hear Dove calling my name as she's walking down the hallway.
"Gabriel, that's Dove; she's headed this way!"
He smiles at me as he stands, smoothing the blankets, and softly, ever so softly, picks me up, sliding me up to my pillows. Then he kisses my lips softly but with so much affection and then winks at me.
"There's nothing but innocent conversation happening in here."
The sly and devilish grin and wink he gives me makes my heart flutter.
There is knocking on my door, and Dove opens it before I have time to say come in.
"Anastasia!"
She comes in softly, closes my door, and then sprints to my bed
"I don't know, but believe me, I'm going to want to know what's been going on up here, but momma just came to me in the horse stables and said, "Dove, go to Ana and stop the fire from spreading from her bed to the whole house."
Dove looks so curious, and I can tell she's about to pop with a million questions bursting out from her lips.
"Sorry, doctor, please don't kill the messenger, but she told me to tell you, "There's a cold lake about half a mile north on the property; go jump in it."
Looking down at my Ana, I see her face in bright red, and I'm guessing mine is, too, because Dove is just looking from me to Ana.
"Dove, thank you for promptly delivering May's message, and no, I never kill the messenger."
He winks at Dove and then turns to me, picking up my hand and kissing it.
"Anastasia, I believe your leg is healing very well; I will be by tomorrow late afternoon to check on you again. I need to check in on Mrs. Baker and that new baby girl of hers. I enjoyed seeing you and spending this time together. Dove, Ana, you ladies have a wonderful evening. I will show myself out. Dove, I did tell May I would stop in and see her today after seeing Ana. Is she here in the house?"
"Yes, doctor. Momma is in the kitchen preparing for tonight's dinner."
Gabriel winks at me and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
"Anastasia, so help me, you better spill the beans. I want to hear everything, and I mean everything!"
Leaving Ana's bedroom, I listen to her and Dove bickering about how much detail she will divulge; I can't help but stand at the end of the hall at the top of the staircase for a bit. Ana tells her about how we kissed and some of the touching and then tries to play coy as Dove sees right through her attempts to say that was pretty much everything. I make my way down the stairs towards the kitchen. Ana must cave under Dove's relentless pressure; because there are a series of squeaks and squeals from both the girls and the last thing I hear is Dove asking, "You saw his penis! Oh, Ana, you're so bad!" In mock chastisement, and proceeds to ask, "So, how big is it?" The entire time, I was using Upir's abilities to listen in, but after Ana apparently gestured my size, the yelling from Dove was audible even here downstairs!
As I enter the kitchen, I can feel May's eyes on me, but she's silent inside my head.
"John, go to the root cellar and get your mother an onion and several potatoes."
John TallTree stands, all 6'4 massive body moves towards the side kitchen door.
"Áyeéh mát'ǫ́ǫ́ʼí, héé'ísh naat'áanii yinílidzin"
Puzzled, I hear John say, "Sure, Mother, this is why I am being asked to leave."
"Bizaad yázhí doo bííná." Now get my vegetables, son."
May turns to me, points to a small kitchen table and chairs, and walks towards me with a pot of washed potatoes.
"Here, Boy, get to peeling while I talk to you and you listen."
Of course, I begin peeling potatoes as May talks to me out loud.
"My son has my gift to some extent, but not the ears you like you do, so we will talk because listen to me: if John knew what Ana and especially you were thinking, I don't feel he'd take it as calmly as me. John thinks of Ana as his little sister and loves her as such, and like most big brothers, he is a very protective but good thing for you; he can't read minds unless he's very close to someone; well, besides me. We have many miles we can be apart and still communicate."
May stands and walks to the stove, puts a pot on to boil water, and returns to the table with two glasses of tea.
"Thank you for the tea."
"So polite, you are not any different from other men your age, and men have urges well, so do us women."
She chuckled and raised her eyebrow at me in a suspicious manner.
"I am not here to tell you what you should and should not be doing. Ana is now a woman grown, not by much, but still a woman. I need you to know a few things, so continue to peel and listen to me closely, Boy.
Ana's father is a worldly man; his father was some sort of diplomat, and they have traveled all his life. Charles is not like most white men. He has a very open mind and is not stuck to foolish traditions and rules, mainly because he's not controlled by the white people's religion. I know you're sincerely in love with our Ana, and there's something exceptional bonding the two of you. My grandmother talked about "bináá' dóó aanííní" soul mates. I think you call them anyhow. I think the two of you are connected in this or some other very unique way. Boy, you want to marry Ana, am I right?"
"Yes, ma'am, May I can't imagine my world without her next to me for the rest of her life. I will be hers from now until I die."
"Well, take some advice from a very wise woman: me! And the day after tomorrow, let's see, that's Friday, I believe. Come to dinner and ask for her father's blessings. I'm certain he will approve. He's already talking about some trips with everyone to China and many stops in between. I see much travel in your future, Boy."
"I honestly can't believe this, and I'm moved so deeply and filled with so many emotions it's a bit overwhelming. I am hundreds of years old, and I've never had these feelings before. All of this is so new."
"You need to tell Ana your secret, and I know you are scared."
May reaches out, takes my hand, and looks at me in the eyes as if she can see the place my soul inhabited a very long time ago.
"First of let's get a few things straight; I can be there with you while you tell her if you like, but you should know I think she will handle everything well, but I will be there to reassure her and you. Secondly, I believe even with some time, her father would not only be accepting, he would be fascinated by the whole thing. Charles is a very wise man and, as I said, open-minded. Third, you should know this entire family can keep a secret. Charles has kept mine for twenty-five years."
Mays eyes grow sad momentarily, and then I see the strength and tenacity returning.
"My village was peaceful, and we were a good source of care to the earth and all its inhabitants. We were peaceful and happy people. Five days after I delivered John, his father, Chéí TallTree, who was our tribe's Chief, was killed by a very powerful and important US military officer for refusing to surrender three of the tribe's girls to him for his men to do with what they like."
I've finished the peeling and now focus on May's every word.
"The three girls were two nine-year-old twin sisters and a twelve-year-old niece of Chéí. These were children, and our people did not let our girls marry until they were fifteen, but then only if they had their blood, and we allowed our girls to marry who they chose; we do not have arranged marriages or force anyone to marry. My husband was tall like John. As a matter of fact, he looks very much like his father. Being the size my husband was, the officer never got off his horse initially. He only rode up and demanded to see every female of our tribe for a head count. We had no reason to disbelieve him until this point; we'd had no conflict with the white men. I grew angry and suspicious when the office thought about how he'd take the twins first for their purity. Then, the officer pointed to the three young girls and called to his men for their approval on whether they would be suitable for their desires.
You see, my mind reading isn't constrained by language. I sent my husband this information, and he called our men to ready for defense and told all women to take the children and calmly flee in our language. He kept the three girls next to him. He and his men tried to make it seem like everything was fine. The officer had a Navajo boy about fifteen who he used for translation, and thankfully, he did not alert the officer to our plans; instead, he told the officer the chief wanted to drink and eat to make things official. Most of us women were able to get to the trees where we kept our horses so they were not in the sun all day. I can recall hearing the sound of a gun, and then our men were in battle with them.
We know from a few who lived and were able to escape that my mate, my love, was shot in the head and died instantly—such a big, strong man, so kind and loving, gone in a second. We lost thirty-three men that day, and they took the girls. The news got out that the officer and his men used our home to build a camp. That night, I left my newborn son with his grandmother, and in the darkness of the night, I went back to our home. I watched as two men raped my niece, but I had to wait. I had to be careful not to ruin the chances of my revenge.
As the moon hid behind building storm clouds, thunder cracked all around, and thunder boomed from the sky as our Navajo family called down a storm from the heavens around them so heavy the only thing that could be heard was the fury from our furious ancestors reeking hell on to this camp. I saw the officer who killed my love. He was in my hogan, so I waited, and I stepped into my home; my feet were silent like feathers falling to the ground, not a sound. I saw this yee naaldlooshii who, in sheer evilness, killed my Ayóó anííníshní. He had his back to me and had small, terrified Kiako tied up, and her sister bent over, shoving himself into this small girl who was dripping blood and crying uncontrollably. This evil demon man was laughing. He enjoyed their pain, and he enjoyed inflicting pain. I crept behind him and stabbed two knives into him, one in each side of his neck, and he fell to the floor. I stood over him, and I cut his manhood off, and while he still breathed, I shoved it into his mouth. And then took my knives and slit his throat.
I sent the girls to the horse post in the woods, and I went from hogan to hogan, slitting the throats of all the men who were alone in them. I rescued my niece, sending her towards the twins. Then I untied at least twenty horses and climbed on a large white horse, and with every bit of my bidzill, your people call it magic; I sent thoughts of horrid mind-burning images to these men. Images so vividly real they went mad, and the insanity only intensified. I watched from the woods with both girls on one of the horses I freed and myself on this majestic white horse. Some of the men began to walk in the campfires, others shot themselves many slit their own throats, but I watched as all of them went mad.
I was taking the girls back to where my people, my mother, was fleeing from the area. She ran with John pressed against her chest. She ran to me with fear on her face; she handed me John and told me to take the girls and flee. I hurriedly kissed my mother and baby goodbye because I believed that would be the last I ever saw of them. I placed my mother on a horse with John and sent her and the girls north to another tribe several hours away. Then, from the woods, I climbed back on that massive white horse with blood still fresh on my face and body. I began yelling at the top of my lungs the words of my magic to my ancestors. The men close to the woods started to lose their minds instantly, but a few of them who saw me escaped. Because I wore the Match Coat of a chief's wife, I was quickly identified and soon gained the name of "Chief TallTrees Bloody Widow. Word spread quickly that a demonic native woman was summoning demons to kill men.
I had close to seventy deaths on my hands that night. As I fled on horse as fast as I could, word of my killings began to spread. I knew I had to take John and get as far away as possible. Four days of riding with my infant son, I met Charles Bauchman and his wife Iris. She had just delivered not but a week earlier mid-journey on their way back to their home in Texas. Iris was not able to produce enough milk for her baby. It's in a small town; our paths crossed as she saw me with John, feeding him, sitting on the ground by a tree. Charles is gifted naturally with languages. He knew several native languages then and could speak Navajo fairly well for a redhead, freckled, very pale-skinned white man. I became their wet nurse. John and I were welcomed into their home as if they'd known us for many years. Their son David was a beautiful, good baby. He didn't fuss often and took to my milk without hesitation. As the boys began to toddle around, John and I started traveling with the Bauchmans all around the world."
May stands and crosses the kitchen for the third time, telling her story as she cooks dinner. I'm hanging on her every word.
During our time in Morocco, David became very ill. Many of the doctors didn't know what was wrong, and their treatments were not effective. We set out for France, where doctors diagnosed David with pertussis. The Bauchmans stayed at his side day and night for the next two months, but tragically, David passed away at three years old, a week from his fourth birthday. Charles and Iris were devastated and heartbroken and settled in France for the next two years while they grieved and slowly healed their wounds as best as any parent could after something like that."
I vaguely hear a shriek from upstairs, followed by immense laughter as Anna's door opens. Dove calls down
"Momma, I have gossip, and we are hungry!"
Ana is hollering, I'm assuming because she's stuck in bed, and Dove is teasingly threatening her to reveal all her secrets.
May shakes her head and says
" Oh, Dove, the girl forgets; I can read minds."
May sits back down at the table and continues.
"A few days after the funeral, I asked Charles and Iris if they would like John and I to leave to give them privacy. They both insisted we should stay. By this time, my English was very good. After Iris had gone to bed several nights later, Charles approached me while I cleaned the kitchen. He apologized and mentioned that he should've asked if I wanted to return to my family. I informed him I only had John, and we sat at the kitchen table that night like you and I are right now, and I told him everything. I hadn't spoken a word of this to anyone since it all happened, and I wept until my eyes and my soul were drained and dry. Charles was attentive, kind, and so understanding. As I told him my story, I could see the anger build in him, and when I told him everything I did, he only approved and condoned my actions. That night, he told me that from this day forward, John and I were his family, and he said he would be honored if we'd consider him and Iris hers."
I look across the table at this small woman of five and a half feet tall with large, kind brown eyes and long black hair with streaks of gray peppered through her thick hair. I now see she's not just wise with a sharp wit. She is a warrior, a courageous survivor. I look forward to knowing more about her one day if she'd be willing to share with me. So lost in my thoughts, I forgot her remarkable gift. I jumped when she took my hand.
"Gabriel, I'd be happy to share my story with you, but this brings me back to my point: you have to share your story with Ana, and soon."
I hear her call me by my name, not just Boy, and I am filled with an abundance of emotion.
John walks back into the house as if on cue.
"Sorry for the delay. I was helping Alma with one of the horses."
He hands his mother potatoes, sees a whole pot of them, and eyes his mother suspiciously. He walks over to the woman who looks like a child standing next to him; he picks her up and kisses her cheeks. She's fussing, but I can see nothing but sheer love on her face.
"OK, Boy, now think about my words, and I will surely see you tomorrow. Unless you want to stay for dinner tonight?
"Thank you, May, but I must check on Mrs. Baker and her new baby girl. And you're certainly correct. I will see you tomorrow, and I will most definitely be here for dinner on Friday evening—goodnight, John, good night, May.
I head back to town. It's dark outside, the wind is picking up, and a chill sneaks its way into the air. Walking down the street, I go to my office to retrieve my physician's bag to check in on the Bakers. Ana's enchanting eyes, soft, full lips, and the way she giggles and blushes distract my mind, and I have to chuckle because I now know what it feels like when people say that someone is lovestruck.
After checking in on the Bakers and seeing how well both mother and baby were doing, I head home, and a very faint, muffled cry comes from about three streets away. I tune in to this particular sound. I can hear someone is in distress, and there is a struggle. I take advantage of my Upir speed, and I'm in the alleyway that runs behind one of the saloons in a few seconds. What I see fills me with anger and rage. There are three men. One is driving his cock into a young woman's ass, and the other is penetrating her vagina while the third force his cock down her throat the entire time this poor girl is struggling and fighting with tears streaming down her face. I've broken the neck of the man in her who had her ass. I then shoved my palm with such force into the next man's chin and jaw, who had his cock in her throat that his jaw broke off and hung my skin, muscles, and ligaments, blood gushing everywhere. The man inside her vagina is scrambling to pull his pants up so he can make an escape, but he is entirely too slow. I pick him up by his neck; I ask the young woman to look away, and I rip his penis from his body and utilize May's technique and smile as I stuff it down his throat.
The poor woman is bleeding and going into shock. I scoop her up and take her to
my office and examine her. She is maybe eighteen and a very petite girl, even smaller than my Ana. She's dirty, and she's bleeding from her anus, and it looks as if they broke her nose, and she has several defensive wounds. She's trembling and weeping uncontrollably. I send waves of calm over her, and she quiets. Then I have her look in my eyes, and I tell her to sleep. I tell her she is safe, just sleep, and she's soon in deep sleep. I wash her and tend to her wounds, and sew up the lacerations. I dress her in a pair of long underwear. She's on the exam table sleeping, so I head back to the site of her attack and the man whose neck I broke I leave, but the other two men I take just outside of town and burn their bodies.
The sun comes up, and as the city wakes up, I make my way to the sheriff's office and tell him a version of the situation I walked up on last night. I told him there was one man and how I snuck up on him and was able to knock him with a bin in the alleyway. I told him I believed it must have hit the base of his skull because the hit killed him. Of course, the sheriff believed everything I told him. Being the town doctor. He returned to the office with me, and the girl was still sound asleep. I told him I administered morphine last night for the pain. He isn't exactly sure who the girl is, but soon we have our grandson, who the mysterious girl is. A man and woman barged into my office frantically.
The couple are James and Emily Whittier, and the girl is seventeen years old, Mary Whitters. The family moved here a few months ago, and we're living with relatives outside of town. Apparently, the family was down on their luck, and the three of them all took jobs in the city. Mary was waitressing nightly at the saloon, so that explains why a girl her age was unattended, out at that time of night. The sheriff told her parents how I saved her and killed the man who was doing it. The father shook my hand tightly, and then his wife grabbed me and him and pulled me into a hug, crying and thanking me for saving their baby. I told them I'd treated and cared for her wounds and she should be okay to return home but on a liquid diet for a week. I gave them medication for pain, and I told them I'd given her a tincture that would induce some cramping in her womb, and she'd bleed for about seven to ten days, and this was in case he'd impregnated her. The mother tried to take off a gold locket and give it to me as payment, but I refused and just asked that they get her well and come back if they needed anything else.
I was a complete disaster, covered in mud, blood, and who knows what else, so I went to the back of my office and began bringing in water to bathe. I don't mind cold water and have no fear of catching a cold, so I washed my hair and body and used a cardamom and spice soap I'd received as payment for a child's busted eyebrow I stitched up not too long ago. I have several thousand dollars I keep on me at my home, and I have much more money, bonds, gold, and gems in a bank in New York. Being alive for so long allows one to acquire many things.
As I was finishing cleaning my body, my cock began to come alive as my mind was remembering the pinkness of her nipples and how they would turn darker as I sucked them, and blood rushed to the area. I begin to stroke myself, thinking about her. I can't keep my mind from imagining the first time I can lick between her tight folds, lapping up her wet sweetness and tasting her blood. I envision a mixture of her cum with her blood on my lips sliding down my throat. It's this thought, and the images of her face burned into my mind that have me exploding copious amounts of cum into the tub. Thankfully, I am able to clean right up, and hopefully, releasing myself will allow me not to feel so animalistic in Ana's presence.
I shave and dress in a gray pair of slacks with a vest and suspenders because I think Ana finds them sexy. I try not to wear a tie whenever possible, and today is no exception. I roll my sleeve on my white dress shirt and apply some cologne. I think Ana likes my hair, but it's warm, and I pull it back, thinking she can take it out if she wants and remove the suspenders and anything else she likes.
Before heading to the Bachman, I stepped inside the jewelers, and Abe Houseman greeted me and asked how he could help me. When I told him I was looking for an engagement ring and money was no problem, he left the room, telling me he needed to get something out of his safe. When he returns, he has a velvet green box, and upon opening it, he reveals several exquisite pieces of jewelry, but one immediately catches my eye. A platinum ring with a perfectly defined, flawless rectangle diamond with pointed intricate corners and beveled side edges; it's maybe two karats in total, but it's the quality of the gem that catches my sharp Upir eyes; it is clarity and brilliance was of the highest quality. I guess Ana's ring finger should be a five, and ask him to have this ready by tomorrow. Mr. Houseman is stunned a bit and says
" Doctor White, beg my pardon, but this ring is 2000."
"It's perfect. Can you have it ready by late tomorrow afternoon?"
"Well, yes, Sir, I can. Are you sure this is the ring you want? Who's the lucky girl, doc?"
"Mr. Houseman, I'm confident this is the right ring. I'll bring you the payment tonight. The lucky person is me. The angel disguised as a girl is Anastasia Ruby May Grace Bachman!"