23
MISSING HIM
September 10
The powwow edition of The Examiner came out on Justine’s birthday. It had been her only perk since returning home a month ago. She had tried her best not to think of Darrius, her trip or anything remotely related to New Mexico. She buried herself in work, taking on new assignments no matter how menial. Earlier that day, she did her usual volunteer work at the boys club. Working with the children always made her feel better. However, working with the Native American boys that day only reminded her of Darrius. One boy, Sanchez, even looked like a ten-year-old version of Darrius, and working with him made matters worse. Sanchez had always been her favorite student; he was so willing to learn photography and angle shots. He saw the pain in her eyes that day.
“Are you okay, Ms. Paretti?”
She smiled into his innocent face and mussed his thick, dark hair. “Just not one of my better days, Sanchez.”
He handed her a fabric flower he had been holding behind his back. “I made this for you in arts and crafts today. You like it?”
Taking the flower, she smiled and said, “It’s beautiful, Sanchez, and guess what? Today is my birthday. A woman loves flowers on her birthday.” She kissed the top of his head, and started her lesson as the other children slowly filed in.
* * *
When she walked into the office at work, she found the new edition of The Examiner on her desk and the memories seemed to flood her, like an awakening. For once, it was refreshing to see a picture of a native sky, the true blueness of it, the richness and serenity of it. Unlike a San Francisco sky and its fog, the photograph she’d taken of an early Gallup morning made her smile. One of her main pictures graced the cover—the banner and entrance of the Day parade.
She thumbed through until she found the reddish-brown cliffs. They were her photographs of Red Rock State Park. It had taken her until now to actually think fondly of the place. What had taken longer was not persecuting herself over what had transpired there. In the back of her mind, Red Rock represented why she and her lover were a no-go, but she had gotten used to the reality of it, had accepted the fact that love was gone. Now it was time to move on, take pride in her work, accept kudos from coworkers on a job well done and make her photos of New Mexico something people would remember. As she looked at the photos, pleased at how good they were, she thought of the man who was probably still somewhere in the mountains, grappling with the betrayal of a lover.
As she put the newspaper down, her boss came in with a bouquet of yellow and desert-sand sprayed flowers. His smile, something that hardly saw the light of day, seemed to brighten the room. Finally, he had gotten over the fact that one of his best photojournalists almost died for the cause. However, she would never reveal what her true cause had been after meeting Darrius Red Sky.
“Love the photo spread, Justine. Love it! This is by far our best piece on the Southwest in the paper’s history. Sure, you had a little stumble, but we pulled through, right?”
She looked at him. A little stumble? I almost fell from a damn cliff! “Yes, I was just looking through it. Quite a beautiful layout, too, if I do say so myself. I really captured the flavor of the area, those beautiful hills, mountains in the distance, the quietness of the early mornings. What did you like most about the photographs, the powwows?”
“Actually, I like the pictures of you helping out at the mission schools. Never knew you liked kids so much.”
“You never asked. I’ve always loved children, and when I can help them, I do. I always donate money to mission schools, St. Jude’s Hospital—any institution or program that helps children. You should know that about me by now. I’ve only worked for you for three years.”
“Yeah, whatever. I love the photos of the day parade and how you got right in the middle of the action. That’s one thing I’ve always liked about you, Justine; you’re never afraid to take a chance.”
“Yeah, brave ol’ me.” A curse.
He held his arm up in a half salute. “For the cause, do or die, right?”
“You don’t know how true those words really were when I fell from the cliff.”
“And one of the local natives rescued you, you say?”
Local natives! He’s a little more than that! “You could safely say that. And it was two men—brothers.”
“We need to send them their own edition. Did you get their names?”
All too well. “Yes, Darrius Red Sky and his brother Derrick.”
A smile wrinkled his red, aging face. “Red Sky, huh? Well, make sure you send them both a copy.” He walked to the door, but paused. “Ready for the Western Voices interview in a few weeks?”
“Sure. Can’t wait.” I just wish it wasn’t on Darrius’s birthday, October 31.
“Oh, by the way, thanks for the invite to your party tonight. A few of us may decide to drop by and meet the parents of such a fine photographer.”
“Sure, come on by.”
Once alone, she thought of her boss’s words. Send him an edition. Would Darrius even open mail from her address or The Examiner’s? She looked through her edition again, knowing he’d love to see his people represented so well, so proudly. A spread on his homeland across the pages of a national newspaper would make him happy. That is what she wanted—a way to somehow make Darrius happy, to think better of her, even if they never got back together again. Being known as a good person by others had always been important to her, even more so with him.
At that, she decided to take a chance and mail a copy to him and Derrick. She would include a note; not just one hoping for forgiveness, but one of apology, thanking him for the experience of showing her, for the first time, what love was, and that it didn’t have to take months or years to establish. Her parents dated for a year before deciding to take it to the next level. That had been impossible for her and Darrius. They knew right off that they were supposed to be together.
Her hand shook as she wrote the note. She started to ball the paper up and forget the whole thing, but she knew it was worth a shot for Darrius to have kinder thoughts of her:
Darrius, I hope you don’t mind me contacting you, but I wanted you to see just how serious I was about making Albuquerque, Gallup and the native culture something to be cherished and respected. I know I did terrible things to break us apart, and there is not a day that goes by when I’m not thinking about you and what we had. I miss you, love you and will always cherish the brief time we had together. Always know that you are in my heart, and will always be. You’re my soul mate, and if I never see you again, it is truly my loss. Please enjoy the photographs. I think I’ve captured some very valuable scenes that people around the world will remember. I’ve included photos taken the day of my fall. I hope this will prove to you my true intention, which was solely to take great photographs. I would never desecrate something so valuable to you and your people. I love you so much, Darrius.
Justine.
* * *
Overnight, Justine had become one of the most sought-after photographers on the West Coast. She looked forward to seeing her family and friends all together to celebrate two special occasions—her birthday and the photo spread. So, it was a double celebration. Her office had been flooded with calls from other publications trying to lure her to their team. Her email inbox was clogged with good wishes.
Just before leaving the office for the party, she took a call from Western Voices News Magazine asking for an interview to be aired nationally. She was enjoying the attention, having fun with the notoriety, but there was still a huge part of her missing, and she could feel his presence in the aching in her heart. He should be here.
After the party wound down, the only guest was her girlfriend since eighth grade, Fara, half Native American, half African American, the best friend a girl could have.
Fara took Justine’s hand and said, “I didn’t give you the other gift I have for you.”
“What other gift?”
“I gave you turquoise earrings to match the bracelet Darrius gave you, but there is something else.”
“I told you not to get me anything. You being here with me tonight is gift enough, Fara.”
“One more little thing.” She took out an envelope from her purse and handed it to Justine. “This may be just the thing you need to soothe your mind, if not your heart. I know you miss Darrius. For God’s sakes, you cried on my shoulder the first three days you returned from New Mexico and you would hold on tightly to that fetish his sister gave you as you cried. I’m surprised you don’t have it with you tonight.”
“The fetish is my totem. It protects me. I had it in my hand the day I fell from the cliff and I never dropped it, even though I was unconscious. Go figure, huh?”
“If you say so. Now open my other gift. This will help.”
Justine opened the envelope and took out two tickets. “Two tickets to the San Francisco Autumn Native American Festival. Wow! I didn’t know it was coming up so soon.”
“It’s in early November, as usual. Time always gets away from you. Will you go with me?”
Justine did not relish the prospect of going to another powwow. She knew just the sight of the vibrant colors, the decorative dress and the talented dancers would take her right back to where she wanted to be but couldn’t be—in Darrius’s world. But she didn’t want to make Fara feel bad, so she graciously accepted the invitation. “I’ll wear my new earrings, my Koshari shirt and the squash necklace.”
Fara reminded her, “Don’t forget to wear Darrius’s bracelet.”
“It is his bracelet, isn’t it? I see him all over it and I never leave home without it.”
“You hadn’t better dare.”
Justine eyed her friend suspiciously. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“What would I know?”
“You have always been a sneaky little thing. Something’s up and I’d better keep an eye on you, my dear.”
“Nothing is going on. I just want you to have fun, live your life despite any setbacks. You’re beautiful, young and smart. You can have any man you want.”
But I want Darrius. She hoped she wouldn’t receive Darrius’s newspaper back with the letter inscribed Return to Sender.
Would her wound ever heal?