Justine turned to her. “Whose?”
“You know who I’m talking about. I see you scanning the area as if searching for him. I knew you’d do this, Justine, and you need to stop.”
“I’m not looking for him, okay? Believe me, I know better than anyone that Darrius isn’t here. He’ll never be here, and we both know it.”
“I don’t think you believe that.”
“Come on, Fara, don’t do this. It’s bad enough that I’m not over him. I don’t need anyone forcing the issue, okay?”
Fara shrugged. “Fine, but I just want you to have a good time.” She pulled out a wrapped item from her bag. “Here, I bought you something before I got the food.” She unwrapped a single eagle feather with a clip on the end. “Here, wear this. It’ll look good with your attire.” She clipped it to some of Justine’s long strands.
“Where did this come from? It looks awfully real.”
“It is. Actually, I found it lying on the ground, dusted it off and—”
Justine was appalled. “You didn’t! Tell me you didn’t see it laying there and—”
“I’m kidding. I know you never pick up an eagle feather. I know you always get a tribe member to retrieve it instead. Come on, I’m aware of all the myths and sayings of my people—well, half of my people. Look, I’m just trying to lighten your burden by making you think of something else. Darrius told you about the feather, didn’t he?”
“Good guess, Tonto.”
The Grand Entry began and everyone stood as the first dancers entered the arena. It took her back to where she wanted to be, the main arena at Red Rock. But, Fara’s words had hit home, and she realized she had to get a grip, enjoy the powwow and try to forget Darrius.
The drums started again, and out came the dancers into the middle of the arena floor. Several of the male dancers were tall, and their headdresses made them seem even more towering. They were handsome men, and Justine could see that through their highly decorated faces. Suddenly, she was in a better mood and she smiled at Fara. “Thanks for bringing me here. I think this is what I needed to take my mind away from my problems.”
“It’ll all get better with time.”
Justine finished her drink and burger just as the grass dance started. One of the men who came out to perform was tall and had a complexion much like Darrius’s. But his face was covered with war markings and other designs so she really couldn’t see his features. Then her mind went to work to combat anything she subconsciously may have been doing. No, he is not Darrius. You are seeing things that you want to see. He’s not here. Enjoy the show, stupid!
Still, the more she watched this man and his style of dance, the more she couldn’t take her eyes off him. No, he’s not here. She knew that, but the way the dancer’s hair whipped across his face and shoulders did nothing but remind her of Darrius’s Koshari dance. This was no Koshari tonight because this dancer had on bright yellow with stripes of cobalt blue throughout his headdress and costume. His moccasin-clad feet were bright yellow as well, matching the tassels of his pants. Besides, as far as she knew, Darrius never did the grass dance. He was strictly Koshari at its best. No, this definitely isn’t Darrius. And there was no way Darrius would be in San Francisco and not find her.
The dancer seemed to have spotted her, and Justine picked up on it. But maybe he was fixed on something beyond her. She kept her eyes on him until he left the area after the dance.
Justine said nothing to Fara about her encounter with a strange dancer. It was for the best because she’d have been called psychotic by her best friend. She forced her mind to go elsewhere, like shopping, the part Fara liked the most anyway. It was fun trailing behind Fara as they stopped at booth after booth to see and partake of the wares.
Something made her turn around. At the T-shirt counter, several rows away was her grass dancer, still in his yellow and blue attire. The dancers hardly ever walked around in their outfits and makeup while browsing, but this guy did. What made it more interesting to Justine was that the dancer was looking at her. His face was still hidden by the makeup, but he was good looking—very good-looking.
This time she had to get Fara’s attention. “Look at the dancer behind us. He looks like Darrius from what I can see of him.”
With T-shirt in hand, Fara turned, saying, “Don’t start.”
“I’m serious. Look at him.”
“How would I know what Darrius looks like?”
“I showed you his picture.”
“Right. Forgot. But the guy is wearing makeup, and besides, every man is going to be Darrius to you tonight.”
“I realize that, but—”
“Here. Isn’t this the shirt you saw online and wanted to order?”
Justine looked at the shirt Fara was shoving into her chest. It was of a shaman conjuring a buffalo hunt. “Yeah, and the dark brown will look good on me, but—” She turned in the direction of where the dancer had been. He was gone. She scanned the area, but he was nowhere. “Fara, he was here and he looked so much like Darrius.”
“It wasn’t him, but if that guy looks like your Darrius, then he’s a hottie, isn’t he?”
Justine twisted her face into an arrogant frown. “People are beginning not to use ‘hottie’ anymore, Fara. Besides—”
“Besides nothing. Come on, let’s shop before the jingle dance starts. You gonna buy that shirt or not?”
Justine threw it onto the table and pulled out a twenty. “Yeah, I’m buying it, okay?”
Before the transaction was completed, she looked in the area of the dancer, wondering where he went, if it were Darrius, and if he was really looking at her. So many questions, but in the back of her mind, she knew there was no way it was her Darrius. He was a lost cause.
26
LOVING HER
The powwow ended late, and all Justine wanted was a good long sleep and to spend Sunday alone. It had been a good powwow and also a good respite, and she wanted to thank Fara before saying goodbye.
* * *
At home in her bedroom, she took her shaman T-shirt from the bag and tried it on. It was a little large on her, fitting more like a nightshirt, so she kept it on. She plopped into her bed, never wanting to take the shirt off. Having something else that reminded her of Darrius so close to her heart made her calm. She retrieved the cottonwood carving of the Koshari from her nightstand and rested it on her chest in the quiet room.
The small nightlight by her bed softly illuminated her surroundings. Shadows danced slowly across the walls, propelled by a swift breeze outside. Drafty windows. Justine returned the doll back to its resting place, deciding the only way not to think of Darrius was simply to go to sleep.
But sleep did not come. What came instead were thoughts of the powwow. Her eyes popped open. Shadows still danced across the ceiling and walls, but they were beginning to lull her and she was thankful. One shadow by her bedroom door held her attention more than the others. She lingered on it for a second or two, knowing what she was seeing was a figment of her imagination. Extreme fatigue could easily have produced any kind of imaginary figure. Her mind saw Darrius dressed as the Koshari, and she quickly looked at the doll on the nightstand, hoping the vision at the door would be gone before looking back. Squinting, she then looked at the bedroom door again. It was still there.
