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  April peeked out at the crowd. The applause gave her hope. Brittany strolled down the catwalk in one of Mildred’s high-priced gowns. April contributed by creating a masterpiece on her daughter’s head. And last-minute bartering gave her daughter access to tanning equipment, eyelashes, and proper shoes. Brittany will win, she thought. She has to win.

  The song Pretty Woman played. Brittany used the slow sexy walk they practiced for the last two days. The little girl waved at the crowd and taunted the judges like mother told her. She was a marvel.

  April crossed her fingers and prayed. If they didn’t win, she had no idea what they would do. She did the math in her head: I owe $800 for the dress, $200 for makeup and incidentals, and $300 for miscellaneous and officials who aided her. She deducted the prize money she hadn’t won and decided she would have close to $3000 after paying off everyone. That would get them a new place, they couldn’t go back. A text message gave her the bad news, they lost their apartment. She kept silent, no reason to upset her daughter, winning took priority over everything.

  She watched Brittany with anticipation, mumbling figures to herself. She had hope. The crowd went wild for Brittany, she amazed them all. The young girl came back through the curtain to thunderous applause. April was first to greet her. She hugged her daughter. There was no need to pray, the crowd told her the good news.

  “You won, baby.”

  “I did!”

  “Of course you did, baby. I was Homecoming Queen, two years in a row. You come from good stock. No one is better looking than my baby.”

  April had time to give her another hug before the girls lined up to go back out onto the stage. She sent her daughter forward with a kiss to her temple.

  Brittany moved to the end of the line. She kept her eyes forward and marched in line back into the bright lights. Cheers went up from the crowd. A band played and the host sang a song as they marched.

  April peeked out after the curtain closed. She saw her daughter fiddling with the small circular card with her number on it. She panicked, hoping the girl didn’t tear it from the dress. She relaxed when Brittany stopped and hoped she would find a way to upstage the others. April’s hands shook and she felt weak in her knees. Her throat dried and she found it hard to breathe. She remembered all her pageants and wished it were her out on the stage. How she would twirl and smile and outshine them all. She regretted not giving all her trade secrets to her daughter. There was still time. She dismissed the thought and turned her gaze to the officials to await the results.

  Mildred was there. She stood in front of a microphone clapping for all the contestants. A card was in her hand. She waited until the applause died to look at the card. Her face was placid and gave no indication of the winners.

  April’s heart fluttered. She studied Mildred further.

  A woman rolled out a cart with three crowns. April gasped. Each crown she gazed on was bigger than the next. She imagined them on her head. She imagined them on her daughter’s head. Excitement overwhelmed her to the point of fainting. Deep breaths allowed her to relax and remain focused. She listened intently.

  Mildred picked up the smallest crown and approached the microphone. “Third-place winner and title of Princess in Training, winning a prize of $500 is . . . Trista Carter.”

  Trista raised her arm, waved, and walked forward. Mildred put the crown on her head and the young girl smiled. Her mother was a large woman. She clapped generously, jumped up and down and received congratulations from those around her. April heard the name and shock hit her. She thought she was having deja vu and it worried her. She then remembered the pageant circuit was a circuit of familiar faces. She relaxed. Her daughter beat them last time and she would beat them this time.

  Mildred consulted her card. “Second prize of $1,000 and winner for Princess in Waiting goes to . . . Juanna Alvarez. The end girl took a step forward, raised her arm and waved. Juanna received a larger crown with more beads. Her crown shimmered as she furiously waved. Hoots and hollers went up from the right side of the crowd. Nearly everyone stood and applauded, alarming April. The young girl had a twin sister next to her. If she won second place, surely they would give first place to the identical twin. April held her breath.

  “First-place winner,” said a flushed Mildred, “and Queen of the Mideast, winner of the grand prize of $10,000 goes to . . . Brittany Dushell.”

  Cheers erupted from the audience. Everyone stood and clapped for her. Brittany waved as hard as she could. Her crown was the largest. This time she waited and received a sash, crown, and flowers. She walked forward under the bright lights, smiling and waving to every face she saw. Her song played. On her way back, she saw her mother. April was clapping and crying. Brittany moved faster and rushed back. She dropped her flowers and rushed into the arms of her mother.

  “Are you okay, momma?”

  “I’m fine, baby. Momma is fine. I’m so happy, so proud, so happy, baby.”

  “I won, momma. I won!”

  “You sure did baby, you beat them all.”

  “Did you win like me, momma?”

  “I sure did, baby. I was just like you and I beat them. Every last one of them.”

  April broke their hug and kissed her daughter’s forehead. Her tears flowed and she kissed her forehead again before hugging her more. Brittany clung to her mother.

  “I did it for you, momma. I won for you and we have $10,000.”

  “Thank you, baby.” April gave another hug and all sound faded as she reveled in the moment.

  Later that night, they attended a banquet in Brittany’s honor. The room was setup similar to those of the past. Treats covered the head table. Brittany invited the other two winners to join her. They took pictures, signed autographs, gave interviews, and took turns at the chocolate fountain before sitting to eat.

  While the children ate, April and Mildred were off in a corner. They talked in hushed voices. After which, they joined those at the head table. Brittany noticed Mildred and the man looking at her. She went to her mother’s side.

  “Momma,” she tugged at the woman and whispered. “That man is watching me. I don’t like him, make him stop.”

  “Shhh,” said April. She gulped down a glass of wine and motioned for another. “How many times have I told you? You are pretty and that’s that. Go back and eat, we have an appointment with that nice man later. Eat up.”

  Brittany walked back to her seat. She watched the man as she went, glaring at him. He smiled at her and began eating. She didn’t smile back. She sat and barely ate. Her eyes went to the man time and time again.

  After dinner, they entered a large room with more food. April and Brittany gazed at the spread of sweet treats with delight. A silver-plated tray contained over-sized cookies. They saw oatmeal cookies, double chocolate chip chunk cookies, peanut butter cookies, and lemon cookies. A tray of brownies mixed with squares of white and chocolate fudge lay next to the cookies. And by it, three bowls of potato chips. April picked up a soda and gave it to Brittany. “Don’t make a mess.”

  Brittany eagerly took a sip of her soda. A woman gave her a small plate and napkin. She picked up a square of fudge, a brownie, and one of the giant double chocolate chip cookies. Without hesitation, she bit into the cookie and moaned. “That’s good.”

  April walked her daughter to a small table with chairs. “Stay here and eat and don’t make a mess. I’ll be back.”

  “Okay, momma.”

  The little girl took another bite of her giant cookie. A woman came by and gave her a matching giant lollipop. She took a couple licks and then went back to her cookie. Brittany watched her mother leave through another door. The door stayed open long enough for her to see Mildred and the man who stared at her.

  Minutes later, April came back through the door, smiling. She grabbed a cookie off the tray and caressed her daughter’s face before going to the couch with her giant cookie.

  A woman came by with a tray of champagne and stopped by April. She drank one and put it
back on the tray and then downed another. Before the woman could leave, she grabbed yet another. It didn’t take long for April to be overwhelmed by the amount of alcohol she imbibed. From time to time the woman would return with more drinks to ply her with. April drank like she was on a mission, downing drink after drink. She finished the two drinks the woman left for her and looked around for the woman again. Her hands shook and she felt unsteady. She needed another drink. Where was the woman? She was about to yell when the woman came through the door with another tray. “About damn time!”

  The woman left quickly, a sour look on her face.

  April kept drinking. She rubbed her hands, tension mounted. It wasn’t working. Oh god! What do I do now? She drank all the drinks before her as fast as she could. “This will save us. It will save us.” She repeated the words to convince herself of their validity.

  The alcohol was working. Her head felt heavy, yet light. She lay on the long couch in a semi-sleep state, yet she held onto an empty glass of champagne. A man entered the room with a large camera or perhaps recording device, April couldn’t tell which. Through her haze she knew he was one of the judges.

  “As we agreed,” said the man. He handed her an envelope.

  “You have a few minutes and then we are out of here.” April put the envelope in her purse.

  “Well,” the man said.

  “Take it easy,” she said in a rushed soft voice. “You will scare her if you are impatient. You have to be delicate, like this fine glass.” April picked up her empty glass and rubbed it. She longed for another drink. Anything to keep her pain at bay.

  “Well,” the man repeated, breaking her trance.

  Irritated, April rose and went to her daughter.

  “Brittany, baby.”

  Brittany put her cookie down. April saw the look in her eye and didn’t like it. She was a mother and felt her daughter’s distress. She smiled brightly to ease her fears. She stroked her angel’s hair.

  “Momma?”

  “Baby, this nice man wants to take your picture. You smile real pretty for the cameras and show momma you are a big girl.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “This is saving us, baby. You are saving your family. Doesn’t that make you feel like a big girl?”

  “Okay,” her timid response.

  It killed April. There was no choice, she told herself. She would do it if she could. That was the god’s honest truth. She had done worse already.

  “Be strong for momma. We need this, baby.”

  April kept smiling to reassure the young girl. She left her in the center of the room and sat on the couch. Thank god a woman came into the room with a new tray of drinks. “Faster, okay?” April took her medicine and reclined on the couch to watch. Brittany looked at her smiling mother while the man adjusted her crown, sash, and body for poses. The shutter clicked and the light flashed continuously.

  After a while, the man got bolder with his poses and touches. Brittany looked at her mother for strength. April was passed out on the couch, her last glass of champagne lay spilled on the floor next to her.

  Chapter Five: Pipi

  Mike Jones and his grandfather, Pipi, went on a trip to the Florida Everglades. They had made minor trips to the area to engage in camping and hunting. This time, they were heading deep into the territory to find trees and make camp. Pipi had a surprise for his young grandson. Mike knew little of his roots on his father’s side. His mother was not fond of Indian heritage and discouraged all efforts in the household.

  Pipi was full-blooded Seminole. His wife, Osceola, was part Seminole. They longed to pass on their knowledge to the next generation. Their problem was that out of four children, only one survived to adulthood, Josiah, Mike’s father. Josiah could pass for white and took full advantage to infiltrate White America. He abandoned his heritage and embraced Westerners.

  Bonnie was old money, transplanted from Connecticut. She and Josiah married and she miscarried three times in their first year of marriage. They decided to wait a year and were successful. During the birth of Michael, a near-death experience forced her to give up hope for more children. Her doctor tied her tubes the instant Michael came into the world. Bitterness overtook her and she blamed Indian charms and chants for her misfortune. She vowed the voodoo of the backward Indians would never touch her son. A vow she would keep as the center piece of her existence.

  As a result, Pipi spent most of his time away from his grandchild. However, on one particular day, luck befell him. Bonnie took Josiah to a retreat in Connecticut. Michael would stay with next door neighbors. The old man made sure to keep out of sight to prevent her from changing her mind and taking the boy with her. With the parents gone, Pipi had a week to teach Seminole ways to a lost son.

  “How far are we going, Grandfather?” asked Mike.

  “We are nearly there, Matthew.”

  “You know I hate that name, Grandfather.”

  “Sorry.” Pipi indulged the youth, he had a preferred name himself. He wanted to say, “Call me Shadow when we are alone.” He didn’t. The boy would not understand. The devil had poisoned him against their ways. He pondered how much to say to the child.

  “Do you know I have a spirit name?”

  “A spirit name?”

  “Yes, I have a spirit name. When we travel among our kind we don’t speak the white man’s name to one another. You will visit our people in the camp tomorrow and learn our true names.”

  Mike nodded and kept walking. “What about me?”

  “What?”

  “What is my spirit name, Grandfather? I have one don’t I?”

  A wry smile crossed Pipi’s lips. That was the reaction he wanted. He hated that it took eight years to get him interested, but he would take it none of the less.

  “Tonight will begin your learning. You will have a spiritual name as well as a spiritual animal.”

  “Animal?”

  “Yes. Your animal is your spiritual guide through this life. You are unaware of it now, but it is with you now, guiding your steps. You make no move without your guide there to help you.”

  “That sounds . . . interesting.”

  Pipi felt as if he walked on eggshells. His fists tightened. How could the boy not know? The boy wasn’t mocking him and his ways was he? He resisted the urge to shake the boy as he wanted. He needed to be delicate. Calm down, it will work out, he told himself. He thought of how to proceed and came up with one reply.

  “It is, my son.”

  “What is your animal guide, Grandfather?”

  “That, I cannot say. To say means to betray all that I hold dear and would put me on a path without my guide. No, my son. Your spirit guide listens as well as guides. Should you reveal information about it to another, it will become angry and leave you. Without your guide, you will blunder into traps set by the enemy.”

  Mike laughed as they walked through thick underbrush. Pipi smiled. He knew the young boy was skeptical, his hateful witch of a mother lied to him his entire life. It will be hard to undone the damage that devil did. He would try. No! He would succeed. Destiny demanded that he succeed. He clutched his breast pocket to feel the note. It was still there, he smiled.

  For a while, they walked in silence. The only sound available was that of Pipi slashing at weeds and undergrowth. Mike had a look on his face. His look was intense as if in deep thought. The old man stopped to see what the matter was.

  “Grandfather?”

  “Son?”

  “Grandfather, why is my last name, Jones?”

  Pipi chuckled. He turned and slashed his way through an opening and made it to a clearing. “Our family name is Jonnelarso.” Ahead of them was a log and a pile of ashes from a long-ago campfire. “Sit, my son.”

  “Tell me, Grandfather.”

  Pipi took a drink from his canteen. He passed it to the young boy and sat beside him on the log.

  “When Josiah left the camp, he left behind all that made him Seminole. He left his clothing and poss
essions. When I say he left his clothing, I mean he literally left his clothing. He was eighteen and headstrong. In the middle of our tent, he stood up and took off every stitch of clothing. Right there in front of me and his mother. He was a bold one, that father of yours. He said he hated Indians and everything Indian. He would not have any of it in his life and he stormed out naked as the day he was born. Your grandmother and I were furious. Josiah ran off with your mother. She bewitched him. Sending him to that private school was a mistake.”

  Pipi sighed. He hate he had fallen for the trick. One day a government man came to their hut and offered his son a full scholarship to an elite school. Pipi thought it was the answer to a prayer, a way to educate his son so the young man would return and uplift his people. That dream would never come true.

  “Is that true?” asked Mike.

  “The wind knows the words of the truth.”

  “Huh? What does that mean?”

  “I would not lie to you, my son. I tried to keep you on the reservation with us, but they wouldn’t allow it. It got so bad that they refused to allow us to see you for two years. Don’t abandon your heritage like they have, my son. You must know who you are. Our people have a destiny and we have done great things. This I can say, my spirit guide showed me this. Our people are the future and you must embrace your people.”

  “I embrace everything.”

  “Everything that you know of, my son. That leaves a lot out. Tonight, we begin.”

  Pipi tapped him on his thigh and they rose. This would be their home for the night. They unpacked and prepared their large tent. The tent was capable of holding several campers. They would have plenty of room to roam about within its confines.

  Mike gathered wood while Pipi fashioned spears from tree limbs. He brought bows, but intentionally left the arrows at home. This hunting experience the young boy will remember. The area held game and will give valuable lessons not taught in schoolbooks. His young son would soon be a man and needed to be treated as such.

  After setting up their tent and having their wood in place for the campfire, they strode through tall trees in silence. The old man took the lead with the boy trailing, bow in hand, anxious. They stopped. Pipi gave the signal and they crouched low. Ahead of them, a rabbit stopped to nibble a blade of grace. Pipi smiled. Mike had no way of knowing, but this was the old man’s spirit guide. They were on the right track.