1983

Kota Ahoka, a toffee skinned boy with silky black hair, opens a locker. The hall is crowded with students. Some listen to cassettes while swapping books from their lockers, while others chat. The native boy grabs a workshop book and slams his locker. His long hair hangs past his sharp jaws, and his big brown eyes shine under the sunlight. He strides the noisy hall, groups of girls stare after him, starstruck. Many boys glare jealously. His flowy hair surfs the air. His sight is set on a door at the end of the hall. The mixed looks continue as he walks.

Kota grins. Should I say I can't help being cursed with beauty? Or will those words make the jocks jump me? He soaks up the attention.

A cute girl blocks his path before he can reach the door. "Hi, Kota." She smiles. "Do you have a date for the dance tonight?"

Kota attempts to respond, but another girl hustles over angrily. "Hey! I was going to ask him!" A tall girl comes along, bumping the other to the side. "Wanna go with me?"

"I asked first!" the other argues.

"Well, I'm asking now." The two face off like batty cats.

Ugh oh. I hope they  don't fight over me. I should put an end to this before it gets ugly. "I appreciate you two asking, but I'm going with my crew. Sorry." The teens' boiling expressions switch to dreamy awe. Kota's native accent is light and soothing, so much that it ends their spat.

"Oh..." The first one stares at his mouth in a daze.

"Maybe next time." He grins.

"Ok...next time." The tall one speaks serenely.

The bell rings. Everyone in the hallway scatter into classrooms like a swarm of bees. Kota makes it to the door. Two boys, Mike and Jimmy, wait there, shaking their heads. Mike is dark skinned with jerry curls. Jimmy is ginger haired with blue eyes. "Wow!" Jimmy exclaims. "You just keep turning down girls."

"Seven total, counting those two."

"We already planned to go together."

"So..." Mike scoffs. "You should ditch us for a babe."

"Whatever happened to loyalty?" Kota goes into a loud classroom.

"It doesn't apply here."

"Why not?"

"You already have a cheat code. Why not use it to land a chick?" Jimmy uses animated hand gestures to convey his confusion.

"I don't have a cheat code."

Mike laughs as the three take seats at workstations full of wood slabs. "Dude?"

"I'm serious. I don't know what you guys are talking about."

"Your voice...you lighten it to lure girls in. Just admit it." Jimmy squints. "You know they love it."

"No, I don't. For the last time, this is how I talk!" Kota stresses.

"Hmm mmm....right." Mike doubtfully eyes him.

"Good afternoon, class." The teacher closes the door and then walks to his desk. "Today, we're going to build a candle holder." The man uncovers a cloth to showcase a block of stained wood mounted by legs. It's shaped like a horseshoe. "This is the main subject; you all will be replicating. You have 35 minutes." The teacher winds up a clock on his desk; it ticks like a bomb. A clunking noise follows. All the students pick up the wood pieces before them.

Kota opens a drawer to unload the needed tools. A saw, drill, nails, hammer, and stainer. I still can't believe, after three months, these two think I fake my voice. If I deepen it, I'll sound like Darth Vader...not even a cool version of him. It's silly...I can't help how I sound. Making girls swoon isn't done on purpose. He saws the wood block into a shorter shape, since it isn't as defined as the teachers. He hears Mike and Jimmy chuckling while sawing. This distracts him, so he stops and looks their way. "Are you guys making fun of me?"

Jimmy cheeses. "Hi, I'm Kota." His voice is higher pitched to mock. "I'm a flower child." The two burst into laughter.

"Quit it!" His cheeks heat.

"I'm a Casanova." Mike jabs using the same tone.

He huffs, continuing sawing through the wood. "I'm neither of those."

"All girls want me...even the queen bee."

Kota halts and glances over at Jimmy; speechless. "Wait...Macy Hart said that?"

He nods. "The word around is that she wrote you a note and tried sticking it into your locker. Her boyfriend caught her, though. I'd steer clear of the jock king if I were you."

"When did this happen?"

"Last week. You didn't hear about it?"

"No..."

"You would have rejected her, anyway."

"Boys!" the teacher yells. "The clock is ticking. Get to work!"

The three end their chat and cut through the blocks. They slice the wood and then wipe it clean. Dust particles float the air like pale glitter as the class mold their pieces. Wow...the queen bee was at my locker...with a note for a date? That's insane! She's the most beautiful girl in school, with the toughest boyfriend. That's her type. Why is she interested in me? He ponders while dividing the sides of the wood chunk into a sharp cut. He does this with ease. Mike is wrong. I would have said yes if I ever got the note. Macy has flawless handwriting. Teachers dote on it; I would have realized it was her asking.

WHOA...THE QUEEN BEE WAS AT MY LOCKER! So neat!

The coloring stage is next. The dull wood is shaded cherry red with a paintbrush. The process of hammering legs on comes next. Kota bangs in four nails on each side, then mounts the finished product. He eyes the timer, 10 minutes to go. Everyone else is still working. Hmm...I just don't want to sit here doing nothing. Maybe I could add a few modifications. My dad taught me handy work; we built our garage last summer break. So I know what I'm doing. I doubt the teacher will fail me if I add something more.

He takes a stencil blade from the drawer and begins carving a large dreamcatcher on the side. The wood sheds, dropping curled pieces to the table. Kota is sure to keep the depth of the design at two centimeters, as to not crack the old wood. It's a lot more delicate than a new slab. That's something else my father taught me. The circular shape and hanging feathers are easy to complete. But the webbing star symbol inside takes about five minutes. Once done, he repeats the mark on the other side. He's only able to complete half of it because the timer goes off. It rattles atop the desk. 

"Time!" Most of his peers aren't finished with the project. Jimmy and Mike have just begun painting the wood dark. The teacher patrols the aisle to survey his students' assignments. Five are to his liking. The stern man shares approving glances. When he reaches Kota, he frowns. "Mr. Ahoka. Your duty was to create a replica, not dirty it with graffiti! That's a C minus!"

"Graffiti???"

"Yes. Is that symbol not illicitly drawn on your assignment against my rules?"

"Yes, but..."

"No excuses; keep your kinds symbols away from art!" the man snaps. "You've been here long enough to adapt, so do so. And you two." He sets his sight on Kota's friends. "D-"

Kota gapes at the teacher, who presses onward down the aisle. "What did he mean by adapt?"

"Just ignore it," Mike grumbles.

"Well...you did deface it, dude."

"I finished early and was bored. This isn't graffiti." Jimmy shrugs just as the bell rings. "I didn't deserve a C minus," Kota complains while standing with his book.

The three pile into a line leading to the door. A girl behind them clears her throat, then taps Kota's shoulder. He spins to find a lime eyed redhead. "I thought it was cool. Mr. Boone overreacted. That symbol is art." She whispers supportingly. "Ummm...anyway, I was wondering if you had a date-"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going with a date for the dance."

The girl's humiliation is clear as day. "Oh, okay..." Her eyes jump to the side. "I hope you have fun."

"Likewise." She blushes shyly before shuffling past him.

"That's eight." Mike uses his fingers to count.

"You're a natural heartbreaker, Ahoka."

These two are getting on my nerves. Do they want me to bail on them? Out in the hall, a green-haired girl in a leather dress and boots waits. "Hey, dummies, ready for tonight?"

"Hey, Liz." Kota greets with a jerk of his chin. "Yep, so ready. I got the drinks."

"I'll buy the pizza." Jimmy adds.

Mike drapes his arms around her shoulders. "And I'll supply the kissing." He seduces.

"You wish." Liz shoves him away and starts down the hall. The boys flock after her. Blue banners hang from the ceiling promoting the Under The Sea dance. Fizzy bubbles and seashells decorate the backdrops. Liz rolls her eyes. "I still think we should ditch the dance. Why do you guys insist on going to these cheese fests? Y'all can't even get dates."

"Hey!" Mike's mouth drops. "Yes, I can!"

"We all can. Especially Kota, he gets tallies every day." Jimmy defends.

"Those bozo girls only crush on you, then go on to the next. Trust me."

Kota shakes his head. "Nope, I could pull all of them if I wanted. Even the top girl. Macy Hart is into me." He gloats.

"You're shitting." Her flat tone is dismissive. 

"I'm not." He squabbles. "Tell her, guys."

"It's true." Jimmy beams widely. "It was hot gossip last week while you were despising human life."

"Ha ha, very funny." She fakes amusement. "And who cares? Macy Hart is a snooze; you're better off dating a grandma. She's so safe and vanilla."

"That might be true, but she's won most beautiful three years in a row. So, she has a high reputation."

"Those contests are rigged...plus she uses boob tissue."

Kota playfully bumps her shoulder. "Sounds like someone has a green monster on their shoulder."

"I'm not jealous of the plastic queen."

"Don't worry, I'll dance with you, so you feel better." Mike reaches for her hand.

"You're going to lose that hand if you touch me, and that's sad. It's your girlfriend. You two will be dancing together tonight."

"Why so cruel?"

"Oh, Mike, why would you think that?" She exclaims sarcastically, as if she's a sweetheart.

"You're so mean."

"No, I'm a ray of sunshine." She smirks. "What time is this dumb dance?"

"6pm." Kota scrolls his locker combination in. "We can show up at 6:30. Then leave at 8."

"And stay out till midnight!" Liz replies enthusiastically. "That'll be a real party, not that teenybopper dance."

"You sure you can be out that late, K man?" Mike asks, concerned. "Isn't the rez strict on curfew?"

"Yeah...but I have a secret way out. No one will know I'm gone." He pops the book inside his locker and shuts it.

"You're gonna get busted. What punishment would your parents give?" Liz cocks her head to the side.

"I'd probably have to cook dinner until my hands are sore."

Her eyes widen. "That's it?"

"Yeah."

"That's not punishment..."

"Yes, it is! Hand cramps are the worse!"

"Can we switch houses?"

"Depends if you all eat poyha."

"P-what??"

"Poyha...deer meat and wild berries."

"That sounds nasty."

"Oh, trust me, it's the best."

"Kota." Mike tilts his head forward, so he follows the direction. "One more coming in, hotshot."

Uh oh...I'm sure the last girl went to cry. I rather not do that to another one. I should be flattered by the endless attempts; instead, they're causing anxiety. I want to run away. I want to flee outside, but that'll be rude. I don't enjoy being mean. I honestly want to keep my word to my crew. The next time there's a dance, I'll go with a date. Until then, I'm not interested.

Kota's thoughts are transparent enough for Liz to get a good read. She marches ahead to meet the girl, who rocks a chic fairy style. A short olive dress with loose sleeves. The flower headband she wears is veiny and covered in green leaves.

Aww...she looks so sweet. Meaning she's going to crash hard over what she's about to hear. He gives a regretful gaze as the wistful teen stops in her tracks.

Liz crosses her arms. "Kota isn't accepting dates; he's going with his gang. Try someone else, sorry hon."

Kota cringes as her face droops into a grimace. All her confidence fades. The girl doesn't speak; she just goes back the way she came at a hasty pace. Great...now I feel like a bully. Maybe I should skip the dance to avoid facing the girls I rejected. That's if they're still going. I should apologize again to ease the pity I feel. "I'll meet you guys at the bus stop at 5."

"Fine, I guess I'll wear a nice dress."

"You mean a black dress?" Jimmy cracks. "As always."

"For your information, I have different shades of black in my closet. Ink. Spider. Coal. Oil."

"Could you wear something pink?" Liz jabs her elbow into Mike's side. He groans and hunches over, out of breath.

"See you guys." Kota chuckles.

"See ya."

"Peace out."

Kota exits the window-filled hall and out into a manicured courtyard. He opens the wood shop book as he paces the ultra-green nature. Autumn trees contrast with the garden covered in yellow and orange leaves. The wind twirls the colorful leaves in a scurrying pattern. His hair ripples in the wind, catching the attention of a group of girls who pass by. "Hey Kota." The clique says in unison, their soft giggling reveal their attraction.

"Hey," Kota looks up briefly and smiles charmingly, then returns to reading the book. He skips to page 45, where a porch mailbox is displayed. I'm almost done with this one. It's a gift for mom. I should work on one for my sister, Dyani. Maybe a doghouse as her birthday present? A puppy? I'll have to hide it somewhere, so the surprise isn't ruined. I believe that's on page 105.

Kota glides a leaf infested sidewalk, his shoes crunch on the shriveled leaves. He nears a bus stop where other teens wait. The designation set in his mind is the Ozark Mountains. Tahlequah where the Cherokee tribe resides. A town with a population of 1,482. Unfortunately, it's too overpopulated, to the point that the reservation school had no openings for Kota. So, he had to transfer to another district. One that's twenty minutes away. He boards the bus, going to the middle to sit.

The town of Tahlequah is located at the foothill of a vibrant mountain. The crummy town doesn't match the beauty of the surrounding hills. The place is in need of funding to demolish abandoned buildings, and increase property value. Most citizens ride bikes since cars are too expensive. My family car has been around for forty years. Grandad worked on it until his knees went bad; now, dad does repairs. It's a sturdy Chevy.

When the bus arrives at the main entrance of the reservation, the tribe officers wave to Kota. He returns the kind gesture. "I'm awaiting the Pow-Wow just for your agitsi's (mother's) pudding." One rez officer states eagerly.

"Me too! She's making a bunch, so we can gorge."

"Good!"

Past the rez gates are cracked sidewalks and small ranch houses. The lawns are covered in vibrant leaves, giving the area an appeal, despite the poorly constructed homes. The neighborhood is quiet and almost vacant. A few people occupy a park at the end of the street. He nears an elongated, one-story house paneled with white siding. Kota raises his hand above the door frame to the ledge to retrieve a key. Inside, loud music bumps. Witch Queen of New Orleans by Redbone. He closes the door and goes to the kitchen. His sister washes dishes, swinging her short hair side to side to the beat. Her bronze skin and defined cheeks resemble his. "Hey."

Dyani glances sideways at him and stops her dancing. "You saw nothing!"

"$5 and I'll wipe my mind clean of it." He pokes. "Is mom in?"

"No, she went shopping for the PowWow. Dad said to put away his tools. For some reason, he thinks if I touch them, I'll end up in the hospital."

"You do trip while you walk."

"That was one time! My pants were too long!" She cups bubbly water in her palm and tosses it his way.

Kota dodges the foamy streak, using his book as a shield. "Hmm...I'm gonna side with dad, kamama (butterfly)."

"Asdudi galvladitlv, (shut up)."

"Tla, (no)."

"Go do what dad wants."

"I will...when I want to." Kota jeers.

"You keep forgetting I'm older. That means I hold authority when mom and dad are out."

"Does that mean I can go to the dance tonight?"

"No...you're too annoying."

"I think that's a yes."

Dy goes back to scrubbing dishes. "Why do you want to go, anyway? Once a registration spot opens here, you'll be gone from that school."

"That's a big if. Tahlequah doesn't even have a spare desk."

"For now."

"I doubt the classrooms will get roomier."

She dries a stack of plates one at a time, placing each in a cabinet baring rose wallpaper. "Still...you shouldn't get attached. You'll be where you belong soon."

"I have no issues fitting in. I'm pretty popular."

Dyani looks his way, rolling her eyes. "If you say so."

"I am!" He defends while laughing.

"Even if you are, I don't want you there."

"Why not?" His soft voice drags out the question.

"Have you ever heard of bigots?" Dy asks, while lathering cups with a sponge.

"It's not that bad. One teacher has a thing against me...a few guys glare me down. Other than that, everyone else is nice."

"Or they're pretending nice when you're around."

Hmm...is that true? Kota ponders for a bit, then shrugs. "My friends don't; that's all that counts. We're partying tonight."

"Ummm...a school dance is nowhere near a party." She snickers.

Should I tell Dy about the bonfire in the woods? Or would she rat me out? I'm not sure if I can trust her. My sis usually gets payback when I annoy her. "Depends on who you go with, clumsy."

"Okay...you're getting on my nerves!" Dy dunks a cup into the dishwater and charges at her brother.

Kota jets from the kitchen, heckling like a hyena. He makes it outside and swings the door shut just as the liquid splats against it. He paces to the garage with a goofy smile and tittering laughs. The unit is compact, big enough for one car and storage. He reminisces, remembering him and his dad placing the shingled roof and molding the windows to their panes. The interior holds oak walls and a concrete floor. There are tools all over the counter, far from their shelves. Kota goes to collect them and slide them back where they belong. Dad finally fixed the grandfather clock. It took him ages.

Now I can finally get around to finishing the mailbox since the workspace is clear. He opens a cabinet below the shelves and pulls out a letterbox with the name Ahoka engraved on its front. He uses a screwdriver to twist hinges onto the back, then sets a flap of wood atop it to connect the piece. After the roof of the mailbox is complete, Kota spray paints it pure white. The chemical dye smell mists the air and relaxes him.

At 4:30 pm, he goes to his room; gray walls and a blue twin bed greets him. A narrow closet is his destination. Kota browses for a casual outfit, believing a formal suit would be over the top. He decides on a simple style with a hint of class. A dress shirt with the first few buttons undone, dark denim pants and jacket. The last accessory is mid-rise boots. On his way out, he writes a note and pins it to the letterbox: Nasginai Unitsi (For Mother.) He treks down the block to the park, going to a back corner. Kota lifts the bottom of the park's flimsy gate and crawls underneath to escape.