Page 38 of Hummingbird and Kraken

He was pretty sure that the closest place—the closest anything—was Rohahen’s tribal lands. There was even a store out front, he remembered. And he’d seen people using laptops. Ro had invited him back, or at least it seemed that way. Maybe he could ask for Ro or ask someone else about using the internet out in the parking lot without imposing on anyone.

He wasn’t quite sure of the distance, but Ro’s truck had been going slowly and they’d turned off the highway almost as soon as they’d gotten on it. It couldn’t be more than a few miles.

He put on his sneakers, which had pretty good arch support even if they had sparkly rainbow laces. He decided that he felt pretty comfortable in his short shorts and tight, purple shirt. If Ro’s people were going to have trouble with his clothes, this wasn’t going to work out anyway.

He’d spent too many years hiding himself and he wasn’t going to start again now.

He tossed his pencils and sketch pad into his backpack and set off.

Sunlight sparkled through the trees, and the rush of the wind in the trees sounded like rivers. It was like a special sound that was only for this place, and it calmed him as he walked.

He could see himself being happy here, as long as he could figure out a job, his relationship with Geir, some friends, and not pissing off his friend’s Chief/crush.

Alright, so maybe that was a huge list of things. But walking down the shady path, it didn’t seem so bad.

He turned onto the highway, noting the dingy red mailbox that had led him there in the first place.

In his mind, highways were traffic jams and noise, but this one was just as quiet as the rest of the forest. He thought he saw a rabbit or something scamper away, and he could hear a bird singing overhead.

After a few minutes of walking, he heard the increasing pitch of a car coming up from behind him. He took a few extra steps off the side of the road into the underbrush and kept walking.

A black car slowed and then pulled up beside him and the window rolled down. The driver was a younger woman with blond hair in a short, spiky cut and a masculine-looking shirt. Maybe she was queer?

“Hey, need a lift somewhere?”

Aw, that was sweet. “Nah, I’m just heading up the road.”

“Are you sure? It’s a long way to anywhere. If you’re running away from somewhere, there are people who can help.”

He smiled, thinking that a few days ago he had been running away from somewhere, but hopefully he wasn’t any more. He probably looked like a teenager, though.

“No, just taking a walk.”

“To the Indian Reservation?” she pressed.

He wasn’t sure if that was the right name for his destination, but he agreed anyway. “Yep. Maybe they have some interesting jewelry at the shop.” He wasn’t about to reveal anything else.

“I’ve heard they’re not very welcoming to outsiders.”

He bristled. “They’ve been plenty kind to me.”

“Oh, you know them! I could give you a ride if you like. It’s just up the road.” Her voice sounded a little brittle, and he couldn’t figure out why she was still pushing. If this was Midwestern hospitality, it felt like New Yorker rude.

“No, thank you,” he said clearly.

“Really, it’s no bother.”

Now he was getting annoyed. He’d already told her no twice, and there was a line between helpfulness and not respecting consent.

He turned and pointedly started walking. It was how New Yorkers handled things.

The car beside him trailed beside him for another minute and then eventually sped off.

He rolled his eyes. People like her were better forgotten, and he wasn’t going to let her ruin his day.

He kept up his pace, letting the whisper of the trees wrap around him again. He saw some sort of large rodent, a racoon maybe, at the edge of the forest.

He waved at it, thinking maybe it was a shifter, but it didn’t wave back. He liked the idea of it, though. After watching him for a moment, it disappeared into the woods.