Lisa was a pretty, dark haired, brown-eyed girl that he met while working at the Whole Foods Store before he quit that job to contemplate his unemployment options during the warm weather and the bright, sunny summer days while lazing around his backyard pool. As nice and down to earth, as she was beautiful and sexy, never had he known anyone like her. She was indescribable. She was so indescribable in fact that whenever he tried describing her to his friends, he couldn't do her demeanor and beauty justice. She was the first Native American woman he had ever met who wasn't on television and in a cowboy and Indian movie. He was falling for her.
Because of her heritage, mostly Sioux Indian with a wee bit of Irish on her father's side and her mother an American Native Indian from a small tribe in British Columbia with a bit of French ancestry in her, which explained the half-size totem pole proudly displayed on the front lawn, she was strikingly beautiful.
In the way that white men freely and repeated raped Native American Indian women back then with the same lustful disregard they had when they repeated raped black female slaves, without regard for them as people, instead thinking of them as mindless savages and with no penalty or laws enforced to dissuade the abatement of their violent assaults, he wondered if General George Custer and the United States Calvary had anything to do with the Irish being mentioned in her family tree. The Irish in her, from the American Calvary, no doubt, from her father's side and the bit of French in her, from the French Canadian fur trappers, no doubt, from her mother's side diluted her blood line just enough to give her exquisite one of a kind beauty.
Besides the way that she looked, what first made him notice her were the uncommonly wise things that she said. Instead of saying the dumb things that women said at her age, instead of being preoccupied with shopping, hair, makeup, nails, cell phone texting, and boys, she was deeper, introspective, and more contemplative than that. She had these cute daily wisdoms of life that Native American Indians always reverted to about nature and animals when drawing an analogy about the bad behavior of Caucasians and when pondering the meaning of life in general.
Talking to her was akin to talking to a sage who was in charge of guarding the planet. She was an oracle filled with planetary tidbits and environmental details. Her recall of those things that were important to her quality of life was amazing. Never would you ever see her wasting her time by shopping at the mall. Whatever she said stayed with him throughout the day and, as he pondered the double meaning of her statements, her subtle clues enlightened him.
What she said as a passing thought meant more to him as his new found way of life than what other women who he had intimately known in the past and have taken volumes to say without making as much of a commentary point that she makes in one sentence. That was it, he felt enlightened whenever he was with her. He was in awe of her wisdom and insightfulness. She was so full with a wealth of knowledge that he felt as if he was being tutored privately to what was important in life. In the way that a short woman makes a man of average height feel taller, unselfish with her knowledge whenever freely imparting her information, she had a magical way of making him feel smarter than he was.
Along with her beauty, her cute way of saying things is what stayed with him long after leaving her. Whenever he thought of her, he heard her voice in his head saying something cute but insightful and that made him miss her terribly. Always, he heard her voice much like a growing consciousness that helped him through his day whenever he thoughtlessly put the good of the planet last and didn't do things the way she would have done them.
Suddenly, her conversations with him regarding the planet were working their magic on him and changing his conscious thought. Suddenly, he was feeling guilty whenever he didn't consider the repercussions of his environmental wastefulness. He'd smile with the thoughts of her admonishing his bad decisions whenever he mindlessly was about to do something that was inherently bad for the planet. Thinking of her changed his bad behavior making him do the right thing.
"The Native American Indian is the soil, he fits in the landscape that once grew as naturally and as beautiful as wild flowers. Once upon a time, Indians ran as free as Buffalos," she said when comparing her people to nature, "and we never took anymore than we could use from the land."
Of course, I've taken one such wisdom out of context, but with a heritage so rich with the Earth, she had a thousand of these types of sayings and for all occasions. Never was she without one, especially when comparing the bad habits of modern day people to the laws of that natural order of things that was the universe.
He never tired of listening to her speak of her culture, traditions, and nature. Yet, in love with her now, he could perceive a time when some of these sayings, much like the howl of an endless coyote or the hoot, hoot, hoot of an owl that never sleeps, became annoyingly tiresome with her prolonging the point and with her sweet voice now becoming as grating on his nerves later as a crying crow that refuses to leave a tree in front of his house.
"Damn you Pocahontas, I mean, Lisa, just say what the Hell you mean in English. I don't have my Sioux Indian decoder dictionary with me today. Just tell me what time to pick you up from the hairdresser."
When the hawk reaches its summit in the sky, when the Blue bird of happiness shits on your shoulder, and when the chipmunk stands tall against the squeal of tires bearing down upon him by a blue Ford Explorer is when I'll be ready."
"Whatever, I give up. I'll just wait outside for you."
As a proud member of the Sioux tribe, she believed that there was a purpose for everything that lived on the Earth with an herb to cure every malady.
"We are here for a reason," she said, "and are not complete until we find our purpose in life."
Certainly going to school full-time and working two jobs, she was on a mission to find her purpose, as her parents and grandparents before her had found their purposes. Presently, unemployed and floating around on his rubber raft in his parents' pool ala Dustin Hoffman when he played Benjamin Braddock in the movie The Graduate, Freddie pretty much figured out that his present purpose in life was to have hot and deeply penetrating sex with his Indian girlfriend, Lisa. Now that she was standing before him naked, this could become his reality and he may be getting laid sooner than later. God, he loved Earth Day.
What he liked most about her was her personality. She made him happy every time he was with her. She was the kind of person who was upbeat, positive, and personable. She had such a beautiful smile. Everyone liked her. She was just so nice and she overwhelmed him with her personable attitude. He wished he was more like her.
Too critical of people from having suffered city living, he needed to spend some quality time embracing nature, meditating, and relaxing. Breathing deeply was not a good thing to do when living in a polluted city filled with the toxic exhaust fumes of cars, trucks, and buses.
She talked of going camping and pitching a tent deep in the forest. She talked about sleeping beneath the starry sky. He liked the idea of camping, but at the end of the day, he'd prefer having a hotel room where he could take a long, hot shower, order up room service, and snuggle up against her hot body in a soft bed laden with lots of comfortable pillows later while watching a porn movie. Definitely, he wasn't the camping type.
She liked people and he liked that about her. Able to maintain a conversation with anyone about anything, he admired her people skills. He loved that about her. He wished he could be more like her in that way, too. He wished he could reach out to people more and in the way that she could. Only, raised in the city, he learned to be standoffish, guarded, and suspicious early. Leaving one too vulnerable and open, it doesn't pay to be openly friendly on the mean city streets, sometimes. Growing up in the city, he developed his stone like city face to dissuade interaction and conversation from strangers who were intent on looking for and taking advantage of naïve victims.
Affectionately, he loved calling her his squaw. He found the word as endearing as he found it sexually exciting. He thought of her as his little squaw whenever she walked beside him, behind him, or in front of him on the street, in the supermarket, or in the stores, especially when checking out the wiggle of her sweet ass from behind. Only, he had no idea he was insulting her.
"Should you ever meet my parents," she said not making eye contact, but instead looking down while fidgeting with a button on her blouse, "don't say that in front of them."
"Don't say what?"
"Squaw. Don't ever call me squaw in front of my parents."
"Why not? It's my pet name for you," he said smiling proudly that she was his squaw, putting his arm around her shoulders, and pulling her closer for a kiss. "I like calling you my squaw." He so wanted to reach down and cup her ass through her tight jeans, but he feared that it was too soon in their 3 month relationship to do that. Suddenly, he felt that he was dating a Catholic Nun instead of a hot Native American Indian woman.
"I know you do, Freddie, but—"
