Chapter 13: Tribal Member

I awoke on my own accord, no one coming and banging on the door or yelling through it. This pleasant surprise led me to assume that Saturdays were a day when Jamerica could have slept in as much as she wanted. Given the prayers for food, I was guessing that church was in order for tomorrow. Groaning at the downsides of this family's rhythm, especially regarding going to church, as having a religion seemed illogical to me, I got up, took care of my morning needs, got dressed, and then headed to the kitchen for breakfast. When I arrived everyone else was talking animatedly still in their nightclothes. I had probably enacted another faux pas, but it was too late to undo it.

"You have any homework left?" Mrs. White asked me as soon as her eyes had caught my form in the kitchen doorway.

"Quillayute and English," I told her.

"Bring your Quillayute with you," she instructed me, as she placed a bowl on the table, which I assumed was for me. When I sat down, she added, "I'm sure Leah could help you."

"Sure," I agreed after taking a mouthful of her amazing oatmeal, grateful that she had given me the avenue to solve the problem that had been tying me in knots.

That problem resolved, the next was to figure out how to either fool Leah or discover a way to keep her silent.

Mrs. White eyed me critically, but said nothing.

It was annoying that she could read me so well, but then I thought about Charlie who barely had spent any time with me and Renée who was too scatterbrained to know me like Mrs. White knew her daughter. I could easily imagine Mrs. White's attentiveness annoying anyone else, and especially her daughter, but given my parents, I appreciated it and found myself envying Jamerica a little.

While eating, I allowed the conversation flowing between Jamerica's parents and brothers to infiltrate me. This type of family exchange contained all of the elements that I had longed to have when I was a child living with Renée. By the time I had turned twelve I knew that if Renée gave me siblings the responsibility of them would haven fallen upon me, since she was so carefree and absentminded. I already had enough on my plate in taking care of her, so stopped my wishing. Nevertheless, my awareness hadn't smothered my yearnings for a family similar to this one, except I had yearned for older brothers, even though I knew it wasn't possible. Simultaneously, sitting in this space observing these moments allowed me to know that my imaginings had only been useful as a fantasy. How many other moments had there been this week of stress and chores? Would I really envy Jamerica if I had a lifetime of the downsides?

Holding my feelings in, since neither mister nor misses White had responded well to my tears, I tried to absorb the vibrancy of the scene into me, relishing in the magic of being able to have something that otherwise would have remained a dream. It would be one of my most cherished memories for sure.

When the boys were done they rushed upstairs, presumably to change. I stood, taking my bowl to the sink, and started doing dishes.

Mrs. White looked at me her face softening, "Appreciate it. When I'm ready we'll go. Pops has to go in for a few hours today, but will then meet up with us."

"You're welcome," I told her in response, suspecting in how she spoke to me that she had decided I was not Jamerica.

Examining me closely once more, she moved her head like what I had said confirmed her suspicions, and then she moved to go upstairs.

My stomach filled with violent moths and my chest felt like an elephant was stepping on me. My breathing became shallower and my vision filled with black spots. Holding on to the side of the sink, I took deep breaths. This sensation was like when I would find out that Reneé hadn't paid a critical bill, only worse. I knew from past experience this was fear. I learned over time to stay calm in order to come up with a plan. Only this time there was no plan. Everything was out of my hands. I couldn't fix it.

After taking more deep breaths and forcing myself to be logical, I came to the conclusion that Mrs White's lack of confrontation about my identity meant that she was playing it cool. I had known keeping myself hidden had to end at some point. I expected myself to be joyous at the revelation, since returning to my skin would be the natural progression. Instead, I found myself sad with a touch of wistfulness. My thought repeated that nothing wondrous and joyous in my life had lasted. Even my best friendship with Reneé had come to an end once she became serious about Phil. These statements equally surprised me. It was if the moment that it could be taken away had illuminated the truth that I had buried from myself. I wasn't sure what to think about my heart's desire to let Jamerica keep my body. It seemed like I was betraying myself in some fundamental way, which then resulted in guilt and shame.

These were foreign feelings. I didn't know what to do with them. Instead of dwelling on them and over thinking, like I usually did, I decided to ignore them and attempt to pretend that they didn't exist. Forcing my thoughts away from where it was looping, I compelled myself to focus on the task at hand, reminding myself that I could deal with whatever crisis came when it arrived.

Initially, forcing myself to complete the chore in front on me, I ended up scrubbing the kitchen mercilessly. When there was no more to be done, I went to my room to pack up my books and materials for being tutored in Quillayute. By the time I came back downstairs, the boys were putting on their shoes, so I did also. We played silly games until Mrs. White joined us. While she locked up, we piled into the car. Once the boys were settled and ready, we headed out.

The drive was the first time I had been back on the reservation since I had last visited Charlie in Forks, which would have made me about eleven or twelve. The roads and the trees that lined them had a vague sense of being familiar until we started down the small streets that contained houses. When Mrs. White stopped the vehicle, she had pulled up in front of the house that I assumed to be where Leah and her family lived.

Even though nothing specifically came to mind, the surroundings had an odd sense of comfort. I gave myself a few seconds to examine the house closely. It was a one floor bungalow with nice windows painted a dark brown. In the front yard someone had made space for gardening and flowers. There were a few places where the siding had seen better days. Yet, what stood out the most was its homey welcoming appearance. Giving up trying to place the feelings it generated within me, I got out of the car and went to aid Dameion, who was strapped in behind me.

Before I had finished helping him get unbuckled, an older woman, presumably Leah's mom, had opened the door and greeted us. Certain I would give myself away to her, I focused on helping Dameion and said nothing but a greeting. When we got near the front door, a girl about my age opened it, smiled widely at me, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me deeper into the house. She stopped moving when we entered what was clearly her room.

"Close the door behind you," she instructed.

Doing what she said, I then turned and looked around completely at a loss.

A few seconds passed, then, she came up to me and whispered softly, "Bella?"

My eyes grew large and I stepped back, accidentally running my back into the door.

Her face split open into a huge smile and she exclaimed, while keeping her volume low, "It worked!" Then, she put out her hand telling me, "I'm Leah."

Appreciating the clarification and introduction, I shook it awkwardly, looking at her in puzzlement, a million questions running through my mind.

"You know?" I angrily whispered, all my hurt, confusion, and frustration from the past week coming out.

She frowned and eyed me with slight apprehension and concern, while she asked me, "You mad?"

Unwilling to share too much with her, I instead said, "It's been a huge shock, really hard, and damn scary."

"Yeah," she muttered, sounding sympathetic. Frowning as if in thought, she took some steps backward, while also eying me critically, moving away from me and towards the corner of the room where her twin-sized bed was located.

Her movement allowed me to take a step into the room.

When she was next to the bed, she positioned herself in order to sit on top of the covers with her back against the wall and her legs stretched out in front of her. Her legs were so long that, even though she was sitting width-wise, half of her calves were hanging off the mattress. It seemed like she wasn't going to say anything, which irritated me.

Dejected and conflicted, I questioned, "Do you know when we switch back?"

A part of me wanted to take some of the negative emotions I had experienced since the swap out on her, but then wonderful beautiful memories from the last couple of days came to mind. Confused at my feelings of frustration, irritation, and annoyance combined with gratitude and satisfaction, not to mention the guilt and shame I was trying to keep locked up, a scowl adorned my features, while I worked at keeping words that could have been said behind my lips.

Leah looked at me like she was trying to size me up and then challenged me, "So sick of being a Quiluete already?"

"How did you expect me to fool everyone with no warning?" I retorted, unwilling to even start in finding an answer to her snarkiness.

My question seemed to push her into becoming less defensive, as she stopped, and her features transformed from angry to frowning. After pondering for a few minutes, her frown intensified before she admitted very softly, "We honestly didn't think it would work, and were more messing around than anything." Then, suddenly her face brightened, "but I can teach you to act more like Jamerica." She stopped abruptly, and then questioned me, her tone harsh once more, "You going to rat us out?"

This girl was going to give me emotional whiplash. It's like she didn't know what feeling to feel, or worse took no time to consider her words before they left her month. My confusion and irritation at her wasn't helping, so I set them temporarily aside.

Really mulling over what she was asking, it took me a few minutes, but then I replied, "No."

She looked at me cautiously and speculatively, as if she wasn't sure to believe me.

Clearly, she hadn't thought through the consequences to me for telling anyone that the body in which I currently resided wasn't the one I was born into. Before she could say something, I warned her, "Eventually someone is going to figure it out."

Her features changed once more, softening, and added a contemplative element.

Coming back to her original question, I added earnestly, hoping she would believe me, "but until then or the switch back, whichever comes first, I'll play along with some conditions."

"What conditions?" Leah asked hesitantly.

"You get Jamerica to pass my classes and you teaching me Quillayute," I stated, proud of myself for sounding firm.

Leah seemed genuinely relieved at my answer. "Sure, sure. Those are given." Then after a brief scrutiny, questioned, "Anything else?"

"Why is she all into Mike?" I pressed, as it was the one thing apart from how it actually happened that was a complete mystery to me.

She explained how Jamerica had been interested in Mike for years, but he hadn't given her the time of day recently, and how she thought this would be the best way to show him that they were meant to be together.

The way she talked about it made it seem like it was a one-way trip, but in all the movies and novels, usually the protagonists learn some lesson and the bodies are switched back. The idea that this could be my reality for the rest of my life hit me in the gut. My epiphany must have been transparent, as Leah stopped her rambling and looked at me concerned.

Eventually, I found my voice, and with great trepidation asked, "How do we switch back?"

She looked embarrassed and worried, placing her eyes on every surface of the room except me, and then reluctantly admitted, "According to the myth there is no back." The blood rushed out of my face and I became nauseated. Then, before I could even squeak, she added, "We planned Jamerica trying it first, since she doesn't live on the Rez, and the elders here would figure out quicker than townies. Now that we know it works, we're going to try me switching with Emily."

The room started spinning. "Water?" I squeaked out, trying to maintain my equilibrium.

"Be right back," she told me, her tone sounding worried.

Sure, I had begun to find parts of Jamerica's life to be appreciative of, and that had made the situation more bearable. Plus I had briefly entertained the possibility that the switch could be permanent. However, and it was a big, however, the way she said it so matter-of-factly made her words seem like a wrecking ball that obliterated any hope I harboured. My mind began spinning with the consequences. Tears started rolling down my face and my breathing became more and more erratic.

When Leah walked in the door she took one look at me, thrust the glass of water at me, and informed me, "Be right back."

Taking a few deep breaths, I drank some water, and tried to get a handle on myself.

She returned once more and handed me some toilet paper, looking at me as if I were a skittish animal about to bolt.

"Thanks," I mumbled between sips of water and blowing my nose.

Forcing my mind to be logical, a few facts emerged. One, she wasn't certain why the spell worked, which meant there were potentially lots of options she wasn't aware of. Two, given one, her tone of certainty was misplaced, as there might be a way to get back to my body. Three, after messing up my life, she wanted to repeat this spell with someone named Emily. The fact this was all over a boy stuck with me, like gum you had accidently sat on. There was too much to try and sort out my thoughts about that detail, so was something to consider later.

My list helped calm my fear. As my breathing became more regular and the tears stopped, my brain kept looping on her stated desire to do the spell again. As the words settled more into me, my face contorted into a strange mixture of surprise and disgust. Then, the idea came to me that it was the perfect opening to allow me to learn more. Maybe I could find a way to switch us back.

"What would you need to do it again?"

She seemed taken aback by my question. After a few minutes she answered, "You have a point. For it to work we might need you and Jamerica."

Her answer had completely nothing to do with my question. She seemed to have a one track mind and a hearing problem. Unwilling to get into all that, I instead enquired, "Why Emily?"

Leah frowned, "My fiancé broke up with me and fell in love with her."

Eying her critically, especially after the lessons I had learned this past week, I asked her, "Why would you want to lose everything that makes you, you for a guy?"

"He's worth it," she stated vehemently.

Unwilling to argue with her, as she came across as a stubborn mule, I instead imagined the impact body switching would have to this Emily, if she were anything like me. It seemed cruel on their part. Her description made it seem like the switch between Jamerica and me had been almost accidental. To know it worked and then do it again purposefully, forcing someone to give up her whole identity seemed vicious.

Guessing that getting angry at Leah wouldn't help the situation any, and I really needed her to help me navigate being in Jamerica's skin, I attempted as much as possible to put myself in Leah's shoes. She clearly loved this guy, and they had been engaged at one point, which seemed like a big deal, even if I wasn't interested in marriage. She probably saw the switch as a way to get her man back, and in a small way I could maybe see that, but mentally I couldn't get past the cost to Emily.

Leah kept staring at me, as if she could tell I was thinking about what she said. And then, without prompting, she started telling me about her relationship with Sam, how he had disappeared, returned, been distant, and then dumped her for her cousin. Honestly, he didn't seem like a guy worth all the trouble to me, but obviously Leah thought he was God-like.

While she told me her life story, no doubt as a way to try and win me over, I tried to calculate the cost I would pay in attempting to stop her and Jamerica doing the switch with Emily. First, I really couldn't afford to have Leah as an enemy, and she clearly wanted Sam above all else. Second, if she was correct that this was permanent, then I needed allies, especially in her and Jamerica. It was like they had me cornered and there was little I could do about it. And learning the ritual seemed like the best way to learn about how to maybe undo it. My realization in how much they had messed with my life without considering the consequences to me resulting in my angrier rising at them to a level that I ever had been before.

Even as I thought it about it more, endeavouring to calm my ire, my mind refused to accept their plan. No one should have to endure what I had been through over the last week. So many things could do wrong and already had. Yet, if I wanted my body back, what other option did I have?

"Okay, I'm in," I told Leah with a sigh. However, before her grin could spread any wider I added my conditions, which I doubted they would meet in order to buy myself time to find a way to reverse the swap, "First, we have to successfully convince everyone that I am Jamerica, including me learning Quillayute. Second, Emily has to agree to the swap. It was terrible waking up in a strange space in a foreign body, and I won't be apart of some else going through that."

Being a White for a week had become nice, but I didn't plan on living Jamerica's life for the rest of mine.

"Deal," Leah agreed before my words were even finished. Then, as if getting to business, she asked, "Who are you not fooling?"

"Mrs. White for sure," I replied easily. "Everyone else has chalked my odd behaviours up to the death of Jamerica's grandmother."

"Which means my mother would be even harder to fool," Leah mused.

"Probably," I agreed, going along, since my childhood memories from my time with Charlie didn't include her mother. "Let's start with names."

"No, Quillayute," Leah rebutted. "I'll write out names and family connections later."

Shrugging and unwilling to argue, I pulled out my books.

Leah was an even better teacher than Mrs. White. She used regular things as we were doing them to construct sentences and demonstrate the language. It was odd, because there were pieces of it that came to me intuitively, like some part of my body remembered the sounds and pronunciation. When her mom called us out for lunch, Leah asked if we could eat in her room. Her mother agreed, so we kept at it. Leah was all business and determined. It seemed like she was willing to go to any length to have a chance to win Sam back.

When Mrs. White told me it was time to go, Leah promised to call Jamerica. Evidently, Leah's plan was for Jamerica to teach me how to fool her parents. Talking to Jamerica in my body sounded like a terrible idea, but I had to agree with Leah's logic.

"You and Leah have a good time together?" Mrs. White asked on the drive home.

Once more I was in the passenger seat and the boys were in the back, except it took less than five miles before the boys were knocked out, a clear indication that they had a good time. Mr. White was driving his cruiser, travelling behind us.

"Yeah," I answered with a smile.

Despite the circumstance, I had enjoyed Leah's company.

She humphed like that confirmed something for her. It reminded me of her and Mr. White's whispered conversation that if something had happened Leah was in on it. She was right about it all, and I had to give her credit. Continuing to fool her seemed mean. I began to rethink Leah's plan.

We got back in time for her to serve dinner, but there were no stories. Maybe that was a Friday night only thing.

Mrs. White asked for me to help the boys in the bath, while she and Mr. White cleaned the kitchen. Getting the boys through their routine was a messy job, but fun. After the boys were washed, dressed for bed, and tucked in, I went to my room and started on English.

Both Mr. and Mrs. White had come up and kissed the boys goodnight, but Mrs. White instead of heading towards her room like Mr. White had, came to mine. She didn't knock. Rather, she pushed the door open, since it had been cracked some, entered, and closed the door behind her.

Pausing what I was doing, slowly with some trepidation of what I might face, I turned around in order to face her.

"Girl, I don't mean this as no kind of disrespect, but you are not my daughter. Knowing Leah and Jamerica, I suspect that the two of them cooked up something they shouldn't have been meddling with, and you've agreed to go along with them," she stated like these were facts.

My eyes bugging out, I could not find words, and so nodded my head in agreement.

"I cannot imagine what kind of family you've come from to prefer ours over your own, but whatever lessons the Great Spirit has for my daughter, I am grateful for how helpful and respectful you are." She took a deep breath and looked at me. "I will not tell and I will not interfere, irrelevant of the outcome, because whatever magic allowed the swap would not have done so if not meant for the greater good. So, out with it, girl, what's your name?"

Hanging my head down some and unable to maintain eye contact, as I was afraid of her response, I whispered, "Bella," unwilling to lie to this woman.

"Renée and Charlie's Isabella?" she checked, after a few minutes of contemplation.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered, still diligently studying the carpet.

She smiled sadly. "Your manners and respect make sense, knowing that. It's good to know Renée raised you well, although I doubt being her daughter was easy, since she was ruled by her intuition more than any person I know, and often had no good sense." She briefly paused before asking me, "Mandy giving you trouble?" clearly interested.

Her knowledge of Reneé floored me, but there was too much swimming in my head to even begin pondering her words. Instead, I answered, "Yes," impressed with her, "but nothing I haven't had to handle before. Mean girls are all the same. I might even have made a new friend. She asked about me coming over next Friday."

Mrs. White shook her head like the whole conversation belonged in the twilight zone, which it honestly did. "What's her name?"

"Rose," I told her.

Then, she smiled kindly, "Yes, that's fine."

Keeping my eyes firmly on the carpet, and hoping she was willing to be an ally to me, I corrected, "I was as surprised by the swap as you are."

She made some non-committable noises. After a few minutes of her standing there, she added her tone softening, "If you and Jamerica were able to be friendly, it would be nice to see my daughter, even if she isn't herself."

"I'll do my best," I promised, willing to give this woman almost anything as a thank you for her being so kind and understanding to me. She was a remarkable woman.

Risking it, I lifted my head some, and glanced through my eyelashes towards her.

Her features turned into something fierce like lighting bolts might exit her eyes, "Anything you hear or learn in this family you can never utter, except to Quileutes. We don't allow pale faces into our histories, as they've used and twisted them into their own purposes."

I nodded in understanding, before my face contorted as a potential problem came to mind. "What about the Cullens?" I checked, needing clarification, since one of the stories from last night was about them.

"They're not really a pale face," she hedged, "so the same reasons for the restrictions do not apply. Nevertheless, they are not Quileute and therefore are not privy to our stories." She looked at me sternly and frowned. "They look pretty on the outside, but looks are deceiving. You need to stay clear of them. They are vagabonds, here today, gone tomorrow."

It was amazing how she said so much, while also saying so little.

"I will not speak of the stories to anyone who isn't Quileute," I promised.

"You remember that, as there are consequences for broken vows, especially betraying the trust of another." At that her features changed once more, and she looked at me in a kind of mothering way. "With it just being you and Renée and then you and Charlie, I imagine that you're not used to taking care of more than yourself. I'll give you some more grace, this next week, but as long as you're here in this family, I'm going to need you to help out. That means going to bed on time, so you can get up in time to help with the boys. No more sleeping in, that includes tomorrow as we leave by nine in the morning. Neither Renée nor Charlie are church going people, so tomorrow will probably contain unexpected things for you. Try and not show it, if possible. The less questions people ask the better."

"Yes, ma'am, and I'll work on contributing more," I vowed.

She turned to leave and then looked at me once more, "And I'll teach you how to care for your hair and body. No Swan would ever know about that."

Smiling a little, I agreed, "I would greatly appreciate the help."

Evaluating me once more, she seemed to have a slight watery tint to her eyes, as she uttered, "Okay." Then, she turned and then under her breath repeated the sentiment.

Shaking my head at what had just occurred, I decided that my mind was too full of her words and their implications to get any more homework done, so crawled into bed, and fell asleep with the possibility that she knew Renée when they were both young. Glad that I wouldn't need to try and fool Mrs. White anymore, I considered the consequences if Jamerica failed my classes. Tutoring Jamerica became my first reason for fulfilling Mrs. White's wish. It was the least I could do for her hospitality and acceptance. She definitely inspired me as someone I could admire to become in the future. Without doubt, Reneé had some good points and I missed her fun ways, but imagining her in Mrs. White's place caused me to shiver in dread. At least I had one reasonable person in my corner. It was that assuring thought that allowed me to sleep soundly.