Sixteen

Throwing the door closed behind me, I took off running as fast as I could my shawl fluttering like wings around me. As always, when I was bothered I headed toward the river that made its home in our property. The belt of trees that grew lush along the banks sheltered the place, making it a natural sanctuary. Heart thundering like a herd of buffalo, I slowed, leaning against a tree trunk to catch my breath.

Al Baily and Toby Whitney! Off all the people I had met since leaving the village of my father, they were two of the worst! Digging my nails deep into the palm of my hand, I fought for control over my volatile temper. With the changing of many seasons, I had been able to tolerate or ignore much that offended me, but the world I lived in was still unwilling to accept my kind. Indians were still 'savage' and 'uncivilized', an unworthy form of life, and I wore that brand like a scarlet letter weighted around my neck. Being half white made me all the more an abomination.