Tag: Dakota Jack

Fiction: High Society

On By Charlie BrooksIn FictionLeave a comment

Orignally published in Garbled Transmissions.

We laid naked together in her parents’ barn, watching the skies through the holes in the roof.

“Tell me about it again,” said Tracy. Brown hair fell over the olive skin of her face as she sat up. Her eyes glittered like a pair of emeralds in the evening light.

I didn’t move. My body was young, but she still had a way of wearing me out. I looked at her sleepily and smiled. “It’s all just memories from childhood. I don’t even know if they’re real.”

“Come on, Dakota.” Her voice took a pleading tone, knowingly baiting me. “Just tell me a little.”

With a resigned sigh, I gave a nod. “I only remember bits and pieces of my real home—the home I had before the white man put my people on the move. But the land was open there, and the air was crisp. Just breathing gave you energy to run, swim, and hunt. It was a land of freedom, a land of possibilities, where you could do anything. Nature walked right next to you, so close that you could touch it. But we never took from it, besides what we needed for food and clothing. We were too thankful to hurt the earth that had given us so much.”

She smiled a reckless smile that did remind me a little bit of my old home back east. “And was it green?”

I breathed in and brushed her hair out of her face. “During the spring, it was even greener than your eyes.”

Tracy rolled her eyes at my stale cliché, but kept her smile. She dropped, getting a grunt of surprise as she landed heavily on top of me. Then she rolled onto her back and curled up, pulling my arms over her body and turning me into a red-skinned coat. Her eyes watched what little we could see of the stars, and her breath came out as a deep purr.

“It won’t be long until I’m out from under my daddy’s thumb. Then I’m gonna go east and see the green for myself. You’ll join me, won’t you Dakota?”

Since she couldn’t see me, I didn’t try to smile. I swallowed and gave a small shudder as I thought of going back there, a stranger again in a new land. “We’ll see,” I said.

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Fiction: But a Dream

On By Charlie BrooksIn FictionLeave a comment

Originally published in Garbled Transmissions.

I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. My mother rushed to my side to see what was wrong, but the dream had always faded away by then. Whatever monster had chased me through my sleeping mind had disappeared, becoming formless black shadow once again.

“Odakota, you don’t have to have these dreams,” she told me once. “You might be asleep, but you’re still in control. Just tell yourself you’re dreaming, and you’ll be able to decide what comes next.”

I nodded and lay back down, but I didn’t go back to sleep. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath until my mother’s soft snores floated across our small home. Then I stood up and tiptoed outside, wondering where I could hide from the monsters in my head.

We had been moving farther west each year as the white men continued to take the land for their own. Our tribe had started in the grasslands to the east. Now the prairies of our new home had grown dry. Looking out to the mountains further west, it seemed that we were pushing closer and closer to a wall.

I can’t remember how long I stood outside. When I finally turned to go back to bed, I found my father standing behind me. He stood tall, with well-carved muscles and hardened dark skin that seemed like leather. I craned my neck upwards and looked into his face. His dark eyes seemed like the deep black pools of my dreams.

“We’re a proud tribe,” he said, his deep voice scaring away the rushing wind. “Hiding from nightmares doesn’t become us.”

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