She thought she might throw up the contents of whatever could possibly be left in her stomach as she labored up and over the dunes. It was an uncharacteristically chilly April morning, and she felt the strong breeze whip through her long, still-wethair as she finally crested the top of the last dune.
Kinnakeet meant place of sharp, jetting land in their language, and it was the perfect name for this spot. Nothing in the world was as purifying as this water right here, and even the simple act of witnessing it was exactly what she needed to feel cleansed. She scanned her eyes over the coastline, taking in every dip and curve of the land, every white cap persevering in its course of action to crash and flare out onto its pebbled beach.
The rhythmic consistency of crest, crash, flow, ebb, crest, crash, flow, ebb instilled a sense of monotonous calm she had been so desperately craving. A wave of peace crashed over her own numbed body. Though it didn’t flow out to the fullest expanses of her body, and ebbed back in far too quickly, she was happy to at least feel something.
She walked several paces down toward the water’s edge, sat down, sipped on her coffee, and stared out into the horizon charting the slow course of the boats dotting the bay.
She easily found Rowan’s dad Victor’s old tuna boat with a turquoise hull and the name “Pretty Pearl” painted in worn orange-red letters across the stern. Pearl was Rowan’s mom’s name, and part of why Juniper suspected he had never made updates to the cosmetic look of the boat.
The other part of why Victor hadn’t updated the boat was financial, she was sure. He couldn’t keep up with the influx of larger commercial tuna fishing vessels, manned by multiple-person teams with the newest technology. None of their Tribal members really could anymore. What used to provide an honest living from a hard day’s work now just barely got people by.
Anita thought it was important to keep Pearl’s memory alive and had told her and Rowan stories about her around their kitchen table throughout their childhood. The thing she remembered most about the stories was how much Rowan’s dad Victor had loved his wife. As a kid it upset her deeply to know that two people who loved each other so much, whowere destined for each other, could be separated by tragedy. Especially when her own dad had left her mom and all of his kids in the middle of the night after having too much to drink, again. They had never seen him since. Ultimately though, the violence in her home stopped, and she and her mom were able to find peace again and rebuild their family.
It was a good thing to be left like that, by him, she reminded herself.
She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see two figures approaching from the distance. She pushed up her sunglasses and squinted through the sunlight to make out if she knew them or not. She wasn’t really in a place to visit with anyone right now. And then she spotted it, that damn beaten-in light blue Columbia Law baseball cap.
“It’s like the hats are fucking haunting me,” she grumbled out loud to herself.
As they drew nearer, she could make out Rowan’s figure dressed in a light brown field jacket over top of a hoodie, jeans, and muck boots and felt her stomach flutter. She found it so attractive how well Rowan could do both polished and rugged. And then she could see Claire was wearing the same clothes from last night. Her stomach dropped, and she pulled her sunglasses back over her eyes.
Please ignore me. Please ignore me.
Just as quickly, she heard her name called out. She turned to see them approaching and plastered the best smile she could manage across her face and waved.
“Didn’t expect to see you out here so early,” Rowan teased, but her tone was light.
“Yeah, I guess I deserve that one,” Juniper responded with a slight smile. “Thank you for making sure I got home last night.”
“We’ve all been there,” she assured her softly.
“I appreciate that.” Juniper forced a snicker.
“And I have never been outherebefore. It’s so beautiful,” Claire chimed in with an awkward segue.
Juniper knew that was supposed to make her feel better, as a consolation for having dragged her out here to the reservation, but it just made it worse. If they hadn’t planned on spending the night together originally, they certainly had now.
There was one thing they could agree on though — this place was beautiful.
“It is so beautiful. Our families have fished this coastline since time immemorial,” Juniper added.
“I’m sorry, since time what?”
Claire looked between the two of them with a confused face.
“Immemorial,” Rowan interjected, “since forever, basically. Our origin stories say we’ve been here since the beginning of creation.”
Juniper looked up at Rowan and smiled her first real smile of the day.
“Wow, that’s pretty remarkable,” Claire said with wide eyes.
“Indeed,” Rowan chuckled.
“Would I be allowed to take some pictures down by the rocks?”
Juniper recognized how hard Claire tried to conceal her awkwardness around not knowing what was culturally appropriate or not, but it still made Juniper chuckle internally.
“Um, sure. I don’t see why not?” Rowan responded.
