Jory Strong: Two Spirits

As if sensing Trey’s eyes on him, Tenino picked up the phone, turned, took himself in hand even as he spoke into the receiver, said, “Oh yeah, the schoolteacher and I are getting along just fine. Any word from the Feds?”

Trey blushed, quickly pulled on sweatpants and a shirt, then his shoes. The rumble of thunder greeted him when he stepped outside. He found the wood and gathered an armful of it, inhaled deeply, loving the smell of clean air and evergreens, damp earth and the approaching storm.

He’d spent most of his life in the city though he’d hiked in areas set aside as preserves. But compared to here, those places seemed…tame, refined, less…

Trey frowned, struggled to pinpoint the difference and found it when the low clap of distant thunder was followed by the phantom drumbeat, as if this land was so ancient and primordial it had a heartbeat, as if it was a place of magic like those captured in legends and folktales.

He’d underestimated it when he’d gotten his first look at it through the window of the police car. Now it spoke to him, called to him in a way he couldn’t ignore and didn’t want to.

Tenino was hanging up the phone when Trey stepped back inside.

“Any news?” Trey asked, going to the fireplace and setting the wood on the hearth.

“Nothing good, at least when it comes to Patricia Veron gunning for you.”

Trey stood, turned to watch as Tenino came toward him. “What does that mean?”

“A fight broke out in the prison cafeteria a little while ago. One of her uncles was shanked while the guards were distracted. I think it’s safe to say he was probably the target all along. Child molesters aren’t popular. Doesn’t look like he’s going to survive it.”

Trey started to ask which uncle but didn’t. He had met both of them, liked them. But that didn’t make him feel bad about one of them being attacked in prison.

A long time ago they may have been the innocent victims, but they’d grown up and ruined lives. They’d perpetrated horrendous crimes on children.

Trey glanced down Tenino’s still-naked body and saw the phone call had impacted him just as thoughts of Patricia and her family had killed his erection. He turned, reached out to touch the thunderbird carved into the mantle, changed the topic. “I can see how this land gave birth to the thunderbird. There’s something about it, something almost mystical. I keep imagining I’m hearing a drum, and sometimes there’s chanting.”

Surprise ripped through Tenino, followed by sheer happiness. Both Ukiah’s mate Marisa, and Tekoa’s mate Jessica, had heard the heartbeat of The People before drinking from the Creator’s cup.

“We call it singing,” he said, keeping his voice level, matter-of-fact, when what he really wanted to do was question, cross-examine, secure every bit of evidence proving Trey was meant to be his permanent partner.

“Sorry,” Trey said, heat rising to his cheeks, making Tenino curse silently in fear of shutting the conversation down.

“No offense taken.” His fingers settled on the mantle next to Trey’s. “Ukiah made this.”

“Your cousin, right? The sheriff’s brother?”

“Yeah. He’s an artist. Also operates a lodge, complete with private cabins, for people who come here to hike and rock climb but don’t necessarily want to rough it in tents. These days he’s got a waiting list and there are always people begging to stay during the winter when he closes down.

“The land has a way of holding you, making it almost impossible to leave. I managed it once. Worked as a cop in Los Angeles then in San Francisco. But I couldn’t stay away. I won’t leave again.”

Trey nodded, ducked his head so his blond hair completely hid his expression. Tenino wanted to reach over, pull the strands of gold back, or better yet, pull Trey against him and prevent him from hiding. Shit, it’d all happened so fast. It was way too soon to talk about something that transcended the pleasure of fucking and was more about the spirit than the body.

He grimaced. In a minute he was going to start reciting poetry. How fast would Trey run if he started doing that?

Trey surprised him again by saying, “Hohoq is one of the names of the thunderbird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. The Thunderbird is important to those of us who live here. Roughly translated, we’re called People of the Thunderbird.”

“There are a lot of different beliefs when it comes to them.” Trey’s voice held a hint of a question as well as caution, as if he didn’t want to risk saying or straying into something sensitive.

Tenino couldn’t stand it. He curled his arm around Trey’s waist, forced him to turn so they could look into each other’s eyes. “Don’t pussyfoot around and worry about political correctness with me. I’m a gay cop. You think I can’t handle anything you can dish out?” He leaned in, tempering the words with a kiss meant to tell Trey he’d endure a hell of a lot of accidental insults in order to keep the lines of communication open.

Trey met his kiss with equal passion. Nearly drove him to the rug with desperate longing.

Tenino fought the lust, knew this conversation was more important than physical release—even if his penis didn’t agree. “What is it you want to know?” he managed, needing to close his eyes for a second so Trey’s lips and the feel of their cocks touching—hardened once again even if they were separated by the thin material of Trey’s sweats—didn’t distract him.

“Just wondering what the thunderbird means to you, I guess,” Trey said.

Tenino wasn’t sure how to answer, wished now he’d spent at least a few minutes thinking about something beyond sex with Trey. “The Thunderbird serves the Creator by guarding the land, just as The People protect and care for it.”

It was the best he could do, the truth as much as he could tell it. Once his people had been so much more, but…

Tenino turned his thoughts away from anger and bitterness. The past couldn’t be forgotten. Neither could it be changed or those who lived today be held responsible for what their ancestors had been a part of or allowed to happen. He was one of The People. He was Thunderbird. But he was also American. A cop. A man who enjoyed technology yet still revered the natural world.

“I want to show you something,” he said, the impulse riding him as if it were the Creator’s wish.

Tenino moved away, got dressed then went to the table. He picked up several guns and took them to the gun safe. Without a word, Trey collected the rest of them and came to his side, handed them to him so he could put them in their proper places.

“Does the sheriff’s department have budget problems?” Trey joked. “Looks like an arsenal in there.”

Tenino laughed. “Hazard of the trade. I don’t know a single cop who settles for just his on-duty piece.” He closed the safe.

“Won’t do you much good if you have to get to them quick,” Trey said.

“If I need this much fire power, I’m in deep shit. I’ve got my service piece and the shotgun in the patrol car. The chance of someone breaking into the cabin is remote but I don’t like to take unnecessary risks. Last thing I want is for one of my guns to turn up at a crime scene.”

Tenino picked up a shoulder holster he kept on top of the safe next to the on-duty one holding his service piece. He put it on then slid the .45 caliber from its usual holster, checked the safety before placing it into the shoulder piece. He didn’t expect trouble, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be prepared for it.

He started to step away from the safe, thought better of it and laughed at the strange twists and turns of falling in love. His hand went to the keypad on the safe, hit a series of codes before asking, “When’s your birthday?”