Chenoa (part 1)

1.
Soft clouds tangled gently between her fingers as she felt herself float gently. Her spirit soared and she wished to go higher and higher. She wished to fly forever as she felt soft scales beneath her body. Feeling her hand tighten around the smooth serpent like scales, she was engulfed by an overwhelming feeling of belonging and freedom. Then just as she went to look at what was carrying her, a voice broke through the mist.
“Chenoa!” a loud male voice cried from a distance.
Chenoa Rose felt her body thump onto her bed as she jolted awake. For a moment she was confused and disorientated. Just as she had awoken she thought she had been levitating. Looking around Chenoa saw that she was still in her room and the wondrous sensation she had just been experiencing was just another dream.
“Chenoa!” the voice called again. “Come on! You’re going to be late for school.”
Bolting out of bed she rushed over to her dresser and started getting into her school uniform. Brushing out her curly red hair, Chenoa looked at her pale Irish-Cherokee features. High cheek bones and prominent chin were really the only signs of her Native American blood for her skin was pale and her eyes a dark blue. She always found to be a genetic mystery.
Soon she was running out to the bus, just stopping downstairs long enough to gulp down some orange juice and give her dad a peck on the cheek. She hated Mondays! Jumping over their house’s white picket fence, Chenoa made a mad dash for the bus stop, which was about a country block from her house.
Panting and wheezing, Chenoa reminded herself that she had to start exercising again and that she was too young to be this out of shape. The bus stop came into view and she could see the bus coming closer. She would never make it and her bus driver never waited.
“Oh, I can’t miss the bus!” she thought desperately. “I need speed. I need more speed! I need to be faster!”
Suddenly her body tingled and her legs felt strange. A purr seemed to catch in her throat and for a second or two she though she was running on all fours. The next thing Chenoa knew she was standing at her bus stop, catching her breath and waiting for the bus to arrive. Chenoa was just about to look back and try to figure out how she got there so fast when the bus came. Climbing in she looked out at the street and in the mud she could have sworn she saw large cat paw prints but Chenoa blinked and they were gone.
“Hey kid!” the bus driver barked. “Take a seat.”
“Oh, sorry,” Chenoa apologized and started walking back to the end of the bus.
“Chenoa, back here!” her friend Gabriella called waving to her from the back.
“Hey babe,” Chenoa waved back smiling and she quickened her pace.
Weaving carefully between the backpacks and feet, Chenoa sneered as she saw some familiar faces coming up. Pam Richardson and her friends were all sitting and babbling away while blowing bubbles and checking their make-up. Behind them were the popular boys, like Chris Downy, Nick Lasso, and Leon Croon. They were the pretty people. They were the ones that everyone, excluding Chenoa, wanted to be. Well, maybe she wanted to be them a little, but she’d never admit it. They were rich and had everything they could ever want. Every one of them was blessed with great looks as if they parents had personally designed them at birth. People like that made Chenoa sick. They didn’t work for anything.
“Hey Chenoa, nice outfit,” Pam sneered giving Chenoa’s well worn jeans and t-shirt the once over. “Real classy.”
Her friends all laughed and Chenoa just smiled back.
“Well we all can’t look like we stepped out of a slaughter house,” Chenoa replied politely nodding to Pam’s animal print clothes and fur jacket.
“Uh! These are all faux-fur products!”
“Right, whatever you say, princess.”
Chenoa chuckled walking past the girls into the popular boys section.
“Hey babe,” Chris called. “How about you conger up some rain with a little dance?”
“Why don’t you go screw yourself?”
“How about you do it instead?”
“I’d rather kiss a horse.”
Chenoa started walking pass him when suddenly the floor was flying up to meet her. Someone had stuck their backpack out in front of her causing her to trip. With a whumpf Chenoa hit the ground and stars shone in her eyes.
“Ohh better be careful, Rain Dance,” Chris gasped. “You may break something in my backpack.”
Grumbling Chenoa got up and made her way back to Gabriella, who was watching horrified.
“Oh my god! Are you okay, hun?” Gab asked moving over quickly so Chenoa could sit down. “What a jerk! He just pushed his bag right under you! Oh my god! Ugh!!”
“I’m fine,” Chenoa smiled waving it off. “It’s okay. No bruise, no foul.”
Chenoa glanced up at Chris laughing and she felt fire rise in her heart. He’d get his come-upings. Karma always paid a visit. She hoped his midterm paper would just vanish from his backpack. Waving her hand in the air as if she could grab his paper, Chenoa made a fist and blew the imaginary paper away. Just like that. Wouldn’t that be nice?

2.
“But, Ms. Poggit,” Chris pleaded several hours later. “I swear my report was in my bag! I just had it! I promise I’m not making this up!”
“I have heard this story many times from you, Mr. Downy. I told you that I would not accept any late papers this time,” Ms. Poggit scolded Chris in Chenoa’s history class.
Chenoa tried not to listen or smile but she couldn’t help it. Somehow her wish had come true. Oh, what a great day it was!
“Please!”
“No, Mr. Downy! You can turn it in tomorrow but I’m going to deduct points from it. End of discussion!”
Grumbling Chris packed up and walked out of the classroom behind Chenoa, who was biting her lip to keep from laughing. Even though she was happy Chris was getting his just-punishment, she couldn’t help but feel bad. Chris wasn’t all that bad when he wasn’t around his friends or the popular girls. Sure he was a dumb jock but Chenoa was sure there had to be more to him…he had his looks.
“I guess that’s what I get,” Chris suddenly laughed.
“Huh?” Chenoa glanced up seeing Chris still walking next to her down the hallway.
“I said I guess I deserve loosing my paper after what I did on the bus to you,” he sighed smiling that amazing smile of his.
“Uh, right,” Chenoa stammered.
“I should have learned by now not to mess with you. Every time I do karma comes back and bites me hard on the butt,” he chuckled. “I remember when I stole you’re lunch back in fifth grade, some one stole my bike. Its kinda spooky sometimes, almost like you got magic protecting you.”
Chenoa laughed gently, but nervously. He was making her uncomfortable with his kindness.
“Well, I just wanted to apologize,” he smiled sweetly. “I’ll see you around, Chenoa, and don’t listen to Pam; I think you look great today.”
Chenoa stood there for a moment blushing as he walked off. Chris wasn’t so bad, she told herself. He could be nice…for a jock.

The rest of the week went by quickly and Chenoa grew impatient for the weekend. It was going to be her birthday on Saturday. She would be turning fifteen. Unfortunately it was also the anniversary of her mother’s death.
On Thursday, Chenoa found herself coming home early because her school ended up losing its electricity and they couldn’t get it working again. The bus dropped her off at her stop and she made the long walk home. A small bunny came out of a patch of bushes and hopped up to her. Smiling Chenoa bent and picked the animal up.
She had always had an unusual gift of attracting and controlling animals, wild or tamed. They just seemed to love her. Chenoa scratched the bunny behind the ears for a little before she let the poor creature go.
“Ya the only one I have ever seen with such a way with critters,” a slow southern accent drawled.
Turning Chenoa saw her neighbors’ farmhand, Matt, behind her.
“Hey Matt!” Chenoa beamed running over and giving him a hug.
“Hello Ms. Chenny,” he replied sweetly.
Matt was a simple looking fellow with thick dirty blonde hair and cool hazel eyes. He had a smile that was innocent, but a little distant. Though Matt was polite and kind, he never really seemed all there.
“What are ya doing home so early, Ms. Chenny?” Matt inquired courteously.
“School lost electricity,” she informed him.
“Well, don’t that beat all? And to think with your birthday is coming up and everything. You must be mighty upset.”
“Upset? Lord no, Matt! I’m glad. I hate school. Well, not hate, but you know what I mean.”
“I’m afraid I don’t ma’am. I never got to go to any fancy school like you does. I just remember my ma teaching me before she died. I used to love reading those books. My favorite was Huckleberry Finn and The Adventure of Tom Sawyer by Mark Swain.”
“Twain.”
“What?”
“Never mind. I guess I should be happy with going to such a great school, but, I don’t know, It’s just sooo boring. All well, I’m out for today and then all I have is tomorrow then it’s my birthday. It’s kinda funny because I was just thinking about how it would be great if the electricity would just mysteriously go out and then it did! It just seems to be my lucky week.”
Matt’s cool eyes sharpened intelligently and looked at Chenoa for a moment while she stared off into the distance.
“How do ya figure, Ms. Chenny?”
“Well, first Chris lost his report after he made me fall on the bus. Then the lab rats somehow got free on Pam Richardson. I won the weekly drawing for free candy in Mr. Cray’s art class and now the electricity went out.”
“Oh...Is that all?”
Chenoa turned around and Matt’s eyes lost their intelligent gleam. Chenoa frowned. Matt had sounded disappointed.
“I know it doesn’t sound like much, but I think it is.”
“Of course it is! Ya got to enjoy every minute of life, Ms. Chenny.”
“Yah, well, I better get going to my house. I’ll see you later.”
Walking away Chenoa didn’t look back at Matt. She liked him but sometimes he bugged her. It wasn’t that he was simple acting; it was that fact that his simpleness just didn’t seem to fit him.

Chenoa reached her home in record timing and she went inside calling out to her dad.
“Papa Bear, I’m home!” she called into the kitchen.
Voices reached her ears as she set her backpack down and entered the kitchen.
“I just don’t think this is a good idea,” she heard her father say.
“She is of age and it is time to get her into training,” a voice like sleigh bells said.
“And what if I don’t agree, hmm? What will you do? Take her away from me too?”
“Don’t be rash! You know that it was not my fault that…”
“Papa Bear!” Chenoa called again.
“Shhhh!” she heard her dad hiss. “I’m in my workshop, Little Dove!”
“Dad, we got let out from school early, because the electricity went out!” she shouted as she made her way to his workshop.
Chenoa’s dad was a carpenter and in his free time he liked to whittle. His workshop was located in what used to be a garage, which had long ago been transformed into a workable room.
Walking into his shop, Chenoa saw her father, a tall proud Native American with a long thick ponytail. Next to her father was a man she did not recognize and whose features were quite strange to her. The man was tall and lean, with the whitest hair Chenoa had ever seen. It was long and hung loose around his shoulders, but what was so peculiar about it was that he was so young looking. Judging by his looks appeared no older than twenty-five. He had brilliant green eyes and a fair delicate complexion. Startled the man looked up at her and he licked his lips nervously. He was a very strange man indeed.
“Uh Chenoa, this is a friend of the family,” Papa Bear began.
“Chenoa,” the man interjected his voice flowing like a river holding out his hand to shake hers. “My name is Draco. I have been wanting to meet you for a very long time.”
“You have?” she stammered shaking his hand.
“Yes. I was a friend of you’re parents from a time before you’re father turned human, I mean old.”
Chenoa just stared at the man transfixed. His voice seemed to hypnotize her and his eyes were just gorgeous.
“You look just like your mother,” he continued holding her gaze.
Music seemed to be playing in Chenoa’s mind and she felt herself go light headed. Something was calling her name, calling her to come and find it.
“Grasp it,” a voice was telling her sweetly. “Take a hold of your fate, your destiny.”
“Chenoa,” Papa Bear interrupted placing his hand on her shoulder. “How about you go start making us some lunch? I’m starved.”
“Uh, sure Papa Bear,” Chenoa nodded shaking her head, looking away from the man’s sea glass green eyes.
Chenoa walked out of the room still a little woozy. What had just happened?”
“What do you think you are doing?” she heard her father snap.
“Nothing. Sorry, it’s a force of nature,” the man sighed apologetically.


3.
Chenoa, Papa Bear, and Draco had a nice lunch in which the conversation seemed to revolve around Chenoa. Papa Bear gloated about Chenoa’s good grades, her ability to stay out of trouble, and her superior intelligence to most of the kids in her school.
“Papa Bear,” she whined after thirty minutes of his gloating. “You’re boring the man.”
“No,” Draco laughed. “I enjoy hearing about you.”
Chenoa felt herself blush and she glanced up at the strange man. There was something about him she just couldn’t resist. She wanted him to like her, to approve of her or something.
“So Draco…how old are you?” she asked nonchalantly gazing up into his amazing green eyes.
Draco laughed smiling a dazzling smile and Chenoa felt her heart skip a beat.
“Me, my dear? I am going to be turning two million years old this year,” he chortled looking at her.
Chenoa stared at him for a moment and felt a little awkward. He was joking of course but she had been serious. She hated when older people didn’t take her seriously.
“But don’t worry,” Draco smiled taking one of her hands in his, “love and compassion is ageless.”
Chenoa blushed furiously and Papa Bear cleared his throat loudly.
“Yah, I seem to remember you using that line on my wife when you first met her,” Papa Bear scowled barely covering his amusement.
“I was only teasing Catherine,” Draco beamed. “I knew you were crazy about her and I wasn’t going to steal her away.”
“The only reason you didn’t really try is because Myra would have skinned you alive.”
“Oh ya, she was a nasty tempered one. That was one relationship I will never try again.”
“I remember when she caught you with the Nymphs.”
“Nymphs?” Chenoa interjected curiously.
“Yes, beautiful celestial creatures,” Draco started leaning on the table towards Chenoa.
“Draco, you exaggerate,” Papa Bear cut in quickly with a sharp tone. “They were these twins who were very blessed in their looks, that’s all.”
“Oh poo,” Draco scowled. “You’re no fun.”
“Chenoa, how about you go check on the fields or go outside? It’s a nice day out so might as well enjoy. I’ll do the dishes.”
Nodding Chenoa went to get up from the table and Draco stood up too, pulling her chair back for her.
“Till supper time, dear maiden,” Draco cooed kissing her hand dramatically.
Laughing nervously, Chenoa smiled politely before leaving to go out into the fields.
“Was that necessary?” she heard Papa Bear scoff.
“I just can’t help myself when I’m in the presence of such beauty.”
“Come on, she is just turning fifteen.”
“Oh, only in that body.”
Chenoa climbed far out into the fields behind her house. Walking for a good amount of time, she finally stopped when she reached a soaring willow tree. The Willow was her favorite spot on the whole fielded area. The tree was ancient and seemed to hold so many secrets. People’s names were engraved in the thick hard trunk and the bark was rubbed smooth in some places by unknown sources.
Chenoa ran her fingers along the trunk till she got to one engraving. Closing her eyes Chenoa let her fingers trace along the engraved name. Catherine. Smiling Chenoa tried picture her mother. She could not remember much of her. She had died when Chenoa was only four. All she remembered was her mother saying something to her before she died.
“I protect you with all my body and soul,” she had whispered into Chenoa’s ear.
It had been ironic to Chenoa that her mother had died on her birthday. From what Chenoa could gather from stories she had heard, her mother had not even been sick when she had passed away. Chenoa had been but her mother had not. Now everyone told Chenoa how she looked like her mom. How she sounded like her mom. At times it frustrated and angered her because it seemed like everyone could see her mom except her. It was like a cruel joke that everyone was in on.
Sliding onto her butt, Chenoa watched over the golden fields as the stretched back into the green plains and then the lush woods. This one tree, the Willow, was the only tree that had not been cut down for the fields. Maybe it was too old or maybe someone had kept it for sentimental reasons, Chenoa did not know. Yet she was glad it was there. It some how made her feel closer with her mom, since Papa Bear hated talking about her.
Chenoa jumped as her pocket started to vibrate. Relaxing Chenoa realized it was her cell phone and she quickly answered it.
“Hello?” she spoke into the cell.
“Hey doll,” chirped Gabby. “what you up to?”
“Nothing. I’m just at the Willow thinking.”
“Sounds like loads of fun!”
“Oh it is. Guess what? We got this strange guest at my house!”
“Really? What’s this guest like?”
“Two words. Gorgeous and weird.”
“Interesting mix. You have my attention.”
For the next hour Chenoa told Gabby about Draco and about her unusual attraction to him. Gabby added her opinion without hesitation, informing Chenoa that she had to introduce Gabby to this mystery guy.
“What’s so weird is he appears so young and yet he seems to be the same age as my dad,” Chenoa added switching hands so that her other ear could rest.
“Think of it as the maturity of your father with the godly looks of a twenty year old. Sounds like a catch to me.”
“Eeew, come on, Gabs! He’s too old. Anyways my dad would flip a shit if he even knew I thought such things about Draco.”
“Oooh, that name gives me the shivers. Draco. It sounds so powerful. I have got to meet him.
“You will. You can come over tomorrow after school.”
“I wish school would be canceled tomorrow too! That would be the best way to start your birthday weekend.”
“Don’t I wish, but the chances of that are slim to none. I mean its not even winter so we can only dream.”
“Ahh, but dream I shall.”

An hour or so later Chenoa went back inside for dinner with Papa Bear and Draco. Draco had changed into a t-shirt and tight jeans that did nothing but make his perfect butt more apparent. Chenoa had to work hard not to stare at him as Draco pulled his hair back into a ponytail.
“So Chenoa,” he beamed taking a seat right next to her at the kitchen table. “Have fun out in the fields?”
“Yup,” she nodded not looking at him.
She was afraid that she may do something stupid if she looked up into those gorgeous green eyes of his.
“She probably talked to Gabriella on her cell phone the whole time,” Papa Bear laughed placing food on the table and taking a seat.
“Not the whole time,” Chenoa giggled.
Her father knew her too well.
“What’s for dinner?” she inquired looking at the strange dishes in front of her.
“Draco made it,” Papa Bear replied forking some of the strange food onto his plate. “So I’m not entirely sure.”
“Its Siren filets seasoned with Moon Fairy dust and Griffon roast glazed in wild berry,” Draco grinned hungrily spooning large quantities on his own plate.
Papa Bear and Chenoa both looked up at Draco. Chenoa stared at the man unsure of whether he was joking or just plain crazy. He handed her the food and smiled pleasantly.
He’s joking she assured herself as she took the food and put some on her plate.
“Right,” she laughed. “Whatever you say. A chef never reveals his secrets sort of thing I guess.”
Draco looked up at her still smiling and his eyes met hers. Chenoa found herself unable to look away and he just nodded saying yah something like that.
He turned his attention back to his food and Chenoa shook herself. Looking down at the food on her plate she carefully took a bite. It was delicious. The most wonderful food she had ever tasted. Chenoa could barely believe it and she found herself eating seconds and almost even thirds.
“I’m glad to see you enjoy real food,” Draco guffawed jovially.
“It’s just so good,” she said between bites.
Chenoa had never felt so hungry as she ate the food in front of her. It was as if she had never really eaten before.
“Be careful,” Draco warned. “Most people who eat mystical food for the first time eat too much and get sick. Slow down. I can always make more tomorrow.”
Embarrassed Chenoa put down her fork and knife and wiped her mouth off with her napkin. She reached for her drink and took a swig finishing her glass off.
“I know what you’d love,” Draco said watching Chenoa. “You’d love some Dragon’s Breath.”
“What?” Chenoa coughed surprised.
“No!” Papa Bear argued. “She is…uh…too young for that.”
“Oh, come on, Bear. She can have just a little,” Draco cooed pulling a large bottle out of nowhere. “Just try this, girl. It’s great.”
Chenoa cautiously took the glass of liquid he had poured. It was a dark liquid, almost black and yet not. She could not distinguish its true color. From one direction it had a red tint, yet from another a green, and yet from another a purple.
“Go on,” Draco coaxed. “Try it. You won’t be sorry.”
Holding the glass to her lips, Chenoa slowly took a sip. From the moment it touched her lips, Chenoa felt energy race through her body. Down her throat it ran like liquid fire. Voices and sounds filled her mind. The room spun and for a brief second she thought she could breathe fire. Her body felt different. She felt lighter and less human as if she was a…a…a dragon.
A strange noise escaped her lips like a small roar. Her vision was blurry and she could see Draco grinning broadly, triumphantly. His hand reached out and gently touched her scaly cheek.
“Good girl,” he swooned as she fell asleep.



COPYRIGHT ROBYN JOHNSON 2009