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Back in the Saddle 4/13/2006 7:27:36 PM
I haven't been posting much of anything lately, due to a bizarre series of illnesses that all seemed to attack me at once. I'm hoping that's all behind me now. The sun is shining. Finally. YAY! After too many months of rain, rain and more rain. I'm hoping that's behind us, as well.
There's a lot that's been happening while I was under the weather, I hope to catch up with some of that in my new newsletter...I hope to catch up with the newsletter, too, for that matter (another of the things I've let slide these last few months).
But, for now, I'd like to point out that I've had a new release: Visions before Midnight, Book 7 in the Oberon series is now available for purchase!
Which of course means I have to post an excerpt...
In this scene, which occurs during a high school field trip to a local park, Native American educator, Chay Johnson, explains the tradition of courting flutes to the students while the object of his affection, teacher's aide Erin Allridge, looks on.
At the other side of the glade, Chay had gathered the girls in the outdoor theater for an introductory talk while Erin tried hard not to glare at him. This is why co-workers shouldn’t get involved, she felt like yelling. For precisely this reason.
Because, sooner or later, you ended up like this: both of you glaring at each other from across the room. Both of you with too much to say, and no way to say it.
Or maybe not, she realized, glumly, as Chay caught her eye and winked. Maybe there would just be one of you who was left feeling angry and pent up. While the other sat, unconcerned, perched on the edge of a table, one foot planted on the stage floor, the other swinging casually through the air, smiling and joking with the class: the very picture of nonchalance.
"Okay, so, any more questions?" Chay asked the girls. "Anything you want to know about that I haven’t mentioned, yet?"
A hand went up. "What are you gonna do with those," a girl in the front row asked, pointing at the flutes he’d assembled on the table beside him.
"Oh, great," Erin muttered. She’d been hoping the subject wouldn’t come up.
"I’m glad you asked," Chay said, smiling as he launched into a long tale about Mouse and fire and a flute made of Elder wood, while Erin’s mind slipped back to Saturday night. Maybe she should have slept with him, after all, when he showed up at her apartment, instead of wasting the chance on the slim hope they might somehow be able to start over again, and build a real relationship.
It was obvious that was never going to happen, and now…now she’d never be able to sleep with him again, either. What a waste.
Another hand went up, and Erin reluctantly turned her attention back to the class. "But, how were they used for courting?" the girl asked.
Courting? Erin glanced suspiciously at Chay. What was he up to now?
His smile flashed brighter. "Okay, that’s easy. Supposing a man, such as myself, had a crush on a young woman. Let’s use Rain Woman, over there, as an example." He gestured toward her. The girls giggled. Erin struggled to hide her embarrassment. "I’d want to show her how I feel, right? I’d want to find a way to impress her. So, one thing I might do, is I’d take myself off to some secluded place––out here in the woods, perhaps––where I could be alone for a while, and I’d compose a song for her. Something unique. A song from my heart. Something that would show the whole world, or at least the woman in question, just how strong and beautiful my feelings for her are."
Erin felt her face grow warm. That couldn’t be why Chay had wanted her to hear him play last Saturday, could it? He’d been pretty insistent. Had one of the songs he’d played that night been written for her? Or, maybe he’d saved it for last…and she’d missed it? Shit. No wonder he got upset when she left early. But, if that were the case, why couldn’t he tell her? Or was that what he was trying to do now?
She glanced at him doubtfully. Had she been wrong about him? Maybe he did want a relationship, after all. Too bad that didn’t matter anymore, thanks to him and his stupid challenge.
We’ll wait until you ask for it. Well, he’d be waiting forever then.
Because no matter how much she wanted him. No matter how beautifully he played or how deeply his music touched her soul, she was not going to beg him for sex. No how, no way, nowhere. So, he could just forget about composing a song for her. He could go out in the woods and get lost, for all she cared.
"But, how would you do that?" one of the girls wanted to know.
Chay smiled. "Well, I’d sit out here in the woods and think about my ladylove, about my feelings for her. And then, when it feels right, when I’m sure I have it all clear in my mind, I’d pick up my flute–" He stretched an arm behind him, and took one of the flutes from the table. "And, then I’d play the song that’s in my heart, allowing all of those feelings to come out as music. Like this."
Oh, no. Erin closed her eyes. Her heart began to pound in anticipation and, at the first note, it melted.
Music filled the sunny glade, and it seemed as if everyone within hearing stopped to listen. Erin kept her eyes closed, afraid of what would happen if she opened them. If she locked eyes with Chay now, she knew she’d never be able to keep her own feelings from showing. All the longing she felt would be obvious and clear, and everyone would see it, everyone would know. And then? Game over. It really wouldn’t matter that she hadn’t said a word, or that they were both still dressed with yards between them, he’d still have had her. He’d still have won.
The song was mercifully brief.
"What happens then?" the girls were asking as she opened her eyes once more.
"Well, once our young man was satisfied that the song he’d composed conveyed everything he was feeling, he’d go back to his village and play his song to the woman in question. And, if he was lucky, she’d find it pleasing and that’s how they’d begin their courtship."
Another hand shot up––from the back of the group, this time. "What if more than one guy liked the same girl?"
"Then they’d both make up songs and she’d have to choose."
"What if she liked one of the guys more than the other?" Mandy Cavanaugh asked. "And, what if the second guy had a better song?"
Chay shrugged. "I don’t know. Maybe she’d lie about it. Or, maybe she’d reject them both. She doesn’t have to accept either of them, you know."
"Well, what if she does like you––and she likes your song, too?" Kate Greco wanted to know. "What happens then?"
Chay’s eyes cut briefly to Erin. "Well, once I’d played my song for her, the ball would be in her court. She’d have to do, or say something to let me know how she felt. Perhaps invite me to share her blanket, or something along those lines."
Share my blanket? Erin felt herself growing angry again. That had to mean sex, right? It figured he’d find a way to bring the conversation back to that again.
Well, too bad for him. Because the two of them would not be sharing a blanket any time soon. Not literally, and not figuratively, either. No matter how much he hinted, she still wouldn’t ask. She’d been there, she’d done that, and, good though it was, she was over it now. She’d declared her independence. From men. From love. From loneliness.
Oddly, that thought was not nearly as cheering as it might have been.
