1. The move
I stared out of the car window, amazed at how fast the trip into the mountains of North Carolina flew by. The closer we got, the more my ears popped. I immediately pulled my ear buds out and did my best to get the pressure in my head down. My dad had awful taste in music, and my iPod was my only escape from the torturous sounds coming from the speakers. I quickly put them back in before I decided to open the door to escape up the mountainside.
It was the end of July, yet in the mountains the afternoons felt like spring – another trait of the higher altitude. We stopped once along the way in a small town just across the border of North Carolina and South Carolina. I refused to get out the car and sulked in the backseat while my dad filled up the Explorer. Families were standing around, mostly packed for vacations. This was going to be one vacation that would never end, at least according to my mom.
We were moving – not that it surprised me. I knew that, eventually, something had to give. My parents had very little choice about what we could do. It was either move or lose everything we owned.
My parents were moving us to Cherokee, North Carolina, home to the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Nation. I’d spent many hours travelling this same road with my family for our summer vacations. We’d always spend two, maybe three weeks in the small cabin that had belonged to my grandparents. We would hike small parts of the Appalachian Trail; camp out by the rivers that flowed down the mountains, fish, yet through all this, I never in my life imagined we’d move up here.
My grandmother died a month ago, and she left the cabin to my parents. With the job market in a slump, my father found himself without a job, and my mother, a real estate agent, found out the hard way what happens when you don’t sell a house for six months. They both decided to take a leap of faith, sell our house and move to the mountains.
Obviously with only a year left in high school, I wasn’t happy about their decision, but they figured the change would do me well. Some strange part of me wanted to believe that too. My entire life had been spent worrying what people thought of me. I saw things differently than the rest of world, and it didn’t exactly sit well with others.
I could tell we were really close to the cabin. As we drove up Highway 441 where the Big M met the entrance to the Cherokee Indian Reservation, we turned down a small dirt road. Our driveway was lined with beautiful trees. I could already smell the fresh mountain air as I rolled down the window to take a deep breath. This was the only thing that kept me happy instead of wanting to dart out of the car and run straight back down to South Carolina.
My dad stopped the car right in front of the cabin. My grandmother had picked this location herself specifically for the house. It was as close as she could get to the reservation without living on it.
It was a small cabin, consisting of two bedrooms, one small bathroom, kitchen and small living room. The washer and dryer were in a small shed built off from the house. Apparently, that had been added after she and my granddad moved up here for their retirement.
Everything we needed we brought with us. The cabin was fully furnished, and we didn’t need much to fill the rest of the house.
My parents had a huge yard sale last weekend. They sold everything single thing inside our house, including my bed. I guess there was no need lugging all that extra stuff with us, especially when money was really tight and hiring a moving van wasn’t exactly an option.
I slept on the floor for an entire week. I couldn’t understand why we hadn’t moved as soon as the yard sale was over, but there was paperwork that still needed to be taken care of. A part of me resented my parents for not letting me keep a few more things. As I saw my items one by one slip away from me, I felt even more alone in this endeavor.
My dad stepped out of the car, looking over the small yard we’d acquired.
“Nadia, come get the key to the cabin and unlock the front door so we can start moving some of this stuff in,” he said.
My grandmother, who had strong ties with the Cherokee people, allowed her best friend, Meli, to name me. Apparently, Nadia means “hope,” however I wondered sometimes if I’d been named correctly because I never felt anything like hope.
I walked to my dad to grab the keys out of his hand. I felt awful for him. He looked like he’d aged fifteen, maybe twenty years, since he’d lost his job.
My parents felt so much better knowing that they could relax a bit once the house had been sold. It gave them a little money to live until either one of them could find a job. They’d been really stressed out until the sale finally went through. It got so bad at home that I’d leave as much as possible, and I spent more time at the library than I did in my own house. If the library wasn’t open, I was at a local park. Either way, my house had felt less and less like home.
Since the Cherokee Reservation was a tourist destination, they were banking on finding a job in the service industry there. I even offered to find one, and my parents had agreed as long as it didn’t interfere with school. They were also in high hopes of me getting a college scholarship, and I didn’t want to disappoint them. So far, I’d done well in school.
As I reached for the keys, I think my dad could sense that I was feeling a bit apprehensive about the whole situation. He put an arm around my shoulders.
“Nadia, this is going to be a great experience. I hope one day you’ll realize that.”
I hated to hurt his feelings. I knew he needed this as much as they thought I did, so I put on a fake smile.
“Dad, it’s not that I don’t want to be here, I’m just worried I won’t get to know anyone. Not that it matters. I’ll only have a year here anyway.”
Dad kissed the top of my forehead, and I quickly ran up the wooden steps to open the door of the cabin.
I snuck my head in to see that nothing had changed in the six months since I’d last stepped inside the cabin. We had moved my grandmother back home when we found out she had cancer. I remember the day we drove up here to bring her back to South Carolina with us. She refused to go, saying she needed to be here.
I hated that we made her move, but she settled in fine at our house. It was awful that she was only there for six months, but I was glad I at least got to see her for that long.
The smell of the cabin was very rustic. I took a deep breath, and the scent of mothballs and pine from the cabin walls flooded my nostrils. Everything in the room instantly reminded me of my grandmother, and I almost felt like I could break down into tears. I was so sad knowing that my grandmother wouldn’t be in the kitchen, baking my favorite peanut butter cookies, or in her recliner, knitting me a scarf for the winter.
I composed myself as soon as I heard my mom fussing at my dad about squashing the bag of breakables that she’d kept.
“Ronald, I told you not to put anything on this bag! You’d better hope nothing was broken,” Mom yelled.
Great, we’d only been here for fifteen minutes, and they were already arguing. Their disagreements seemed to have gotten worse as our financial worries strengthened. My biggest goal in this move was to see that they would stop the fighting. It wasn’t helping matters much.
I walked slowly down the steps to help bring boxes and bags into the house. Every single bit of clothing that belonged to me filled up two suitcases. I’d only kept a box of personal belongings. Space was tight in our Ford Explorer.
My mother looked so worn out. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her shoulders seemed stuck in a permanent slump. On top of losing her mother, she was under the stress of just being a mom, a wife and doing everything she could to sell a house. She stayed home so much taking care of her mother that she didn’t sell a house for over six months. She hoped a job offer would pan out in Bryson City, just up the road from the Reservation.
I walked up to my mom who handed me a small box of food that we’d brought with us to put in the cupboards. She gave me a fake smile as she handed the box off to me. At least I wasn’t the only one pretending that everything was okay. Even though it was my mom’s idea to head up here, I could see the hesitation in her eyes, too.
“Mom, do you think after everything’s moved in, and we’re all unpacked, we could just go into the Reservation and grab some dinner? I’m sure you don’t feel like cooking, and I know I sure don’t feel like it either.”
She smiled sincerely for the first time in a while. You could see the gratefulness radiating from her eyes.
“Sure, Nadia, we’ll go as soon as we’re done here. I’m sure all this unpacking will make us hungry.”
We grabbed a couple of left over boxes out of the Explorer and took them into the house. I already knew which room was mine. My grandparents kept a small extra bedroom for my family when we came to visit.
My mom was an only daughter; so was I. My dad’s family, all still in South Carolina, had more than enough children and grandchildren. I was always closer to my mom’s family anyway, and it was nice being the only grandchild on my mom’s side. I was spoiled rotten. Although, it would have been nice to have cousins to play with growing up; even a sister or brother would have been nice, but, I took what I’d been given.
I watched my mom pull some items out of a box in the living room. She was tall, very thin – most of that came from barely eating for the past three months – and she had short black hair, honey colored skin and very high cheek bones. I sincerely think she could have been a model in her younger years. My heart went out to her knowing that she’d gone through so much.
“Elaine,” I heard my dad shout to my mom, “could you come here a minute? I need you to show me where this is supposed to go.”
She ran to the back where my grandmother’s old bedroom was located.
I grabbed my box of personal items and headed back to my room. Even though my room was small, it had all I needed, including full-sized bed with a really nice wooden headboard. Across from the foot of the bed sat a dresser with a small TV on top of that. The walls were made out of logs. I really loved the homey appeal that the entire cabin held.
I pulled out several pictures, arranging them on the dresser around the television. Most of them were of my mom, dad and grandmother. I barely remembered my grandfather. I knew as a young child we’d spent a lot of time together. He’d died when I was really young, but I was always really close to my grandmother.
I had a couple of pictures of my two best friends, Katherine Benjamin and Jenni Howle. They were the only two people I thought I would even miss from my hometown.
I finally found a good group of friends in eighth grade after years filled with turmoil and frustration from so many mean classmates. I met them after I’d had a run in with one of the class idiots, Jackson Douglas. He started calling me all kinds of cruel and obnoxious names, and Kat and Jenni stuck up for me. From that point on, we were all inseparable. They are also the only two that knew me for me… and about my crazy dreams.
I sat on my bed, staring at the photograph of Jenni, Kat and I. It was taken at a birthday party for Kat. Jenni and Kat were wearing their normal girly clothes while I sported my infamous sweater that I would never take off.
I pulled out a couple more items, stuff I’d kept for the upcoming school year, such as a book bag and pencils and things. I hated the fact that my parents needed to buy me school supplies, so I tried to keep things to a minimum.
I placed everything on the crocheted comforter. I was pretty sure my grandmother made this one. She loved to crochet and knit, and before she got too sick to show me how, she taught me as much as she could.
I went back into the living room and grabbed the suitcases that held my clothes and toiletries, and I took them to my bedroom. I unpacked my clothes and realized as I was unpacking that I barely had any winter clothes – except for my favorite sweater. In South Carolina, we had pretty mild winters. I’d forgotten that I was moving to the mountains and realized I had yet another financial burden to put on my parents.
As soon as I placed the last item into the closet, my mom stuck her head into the bedroom and said, “Nadia, are you hungry? I think we’re ready to go into town.”
“I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
I reached over to my bag. I was supposed to call Jenni as soon as we got here, but with all the unpacking to do I figured I’d take care of that first.
“Nadia! You were supposed to call as soon as you got there. You had me worried sick,” Jenni said harshly.
“Chill, Jen. We had a ton of unpacking to do so we did that first. I wanted to let you know that I was ok. I miss y’all already,” I said as I almost choked on my words.
“You’ll be ok, Nadia. Besides, we now have a place to spend our vacations.”
“I guess you’re right. It’s just odd being here. I feel like we’re on an extended vacation.”
“Well that is an excellent way of looking at it. I’m glad you are being optimistic about all this. This is a good thing for you and your parents. Don’t forget they need this.” Jenni reminded me.
Jenni was always the optimist. She had a way of finding the silver lining in even the darkest cloud. I knew I could always count on her to be the one to make me feel better.
Kat, however, could make anything look worse than what it was. I wasn’t in a mood to call her and hear about the bad things that could come of this move. I needed a positive influence, at least for now.
“Well, I’d better get going. We still don’t have our plans switched over or cell phones for up here, so it’s an emergency use only kind of situation.”
We said our goodbyes, and I told her I’d call as soon as I could.
I went into the living room and found my mom and dad patiently waiting on me to join them. Since we were starving from our day of driving and unpacking, we decided to head to a fast food restaurant.
I hated to get back in the car so soon. The five hour car ride took more out of me than I thought. My dad pulled into the McDonalds just up the road from our house. This technically wasn’t part of the reservation, but we were going to live here, so I had no rush to get into town.
We ate pretty much in silence as we people watched. Parents were rushing their kids through their meals as the local teenagers loitered and took up a large corner of the restaurant.
“Dad, do you think there is any way I could borrow the truck for a bit tomorrow? I’d like to go into town and start looking for a job.”
My dad didn’t say anything for a moment, and I was sure that meant no.
“Sure, take it. Make sure you’re back by three, though. Your mom has a final meeting with the cabin sales in Bryson City at four.”
“Oh yeah, good luck with that Mom. I’m sure you’ll do great.”
Mom nodded and smiled. I really hoped she got the job. I was ready for burdens to finally be lifted from my parents.
We finished or food and walked to the door of the restaurant. The sun was setting over the Blue Ridge Mountains, and even though I’d seen it tons of times before during my various trips here, I was still in awe at the beautiful colors that laced the sky. The blues, pinks and oranges seemed to mix together in a way only the heavens could produce.
We got home pretty quickly, and I settled into my room. I grabbed my pajamas out of the dresser and went to the bathroom to freshen up and brush my teeth before bed. I stared at myself in the mirror for a bit, certain my eyes were forming the same dark circles my mom had recently developed. I was entirely too young to have that happen.
I got under the covers and nuzzled my head into my goose down pillow. Before I knew it I was dreaming.
I was sitting at the park where I would go to clear my head.
Night was beginning to fall, and I didn’t want to move. It seemed almost as if, I belonged. There, in the woods, felt like home. Then, all of a sudden, I felt a slight tremble travel through my body.
I thought I was getting a cold chill until it happened again. I fell to the ground and started convulsing. I was aware of what was going on around me, but I had no understanding at all what was happening to me. I thought I was having a seizure.
I felt myself blackout, and the moment I woke up, after what seemed like an eternity, my senses were heightened. The darkness around me was complete, yet I could see every single detail in the leaves and the trees. Everything was in black and white, and I began to freak out, thinking that I had gone completely colorblind. I could hear the passing cars and the trees brushing against each other in the breeze. In the background, I heard a baby crying and people listening to music. Then I realized something even more frightening than my senses.
I tried to speak, and instead, a howl poured out of met. I looked at my hand which now was a paw. I startled myself and tried to sit up, soon realizing that I had four legs instead of two and instantly stood up. I ran as fast as I could, straight to water. It was the only way I could see my reflection. The full moon beamed down over me, and as soon as I found a body of water, I saw a reflection that could never be wiped from my mind.
The eyes staring back at me were my own. They were the only thing that hadn’t changed about me.
I was wrapped in silver fur. At first, I didn’t recognize exactly what kind of animal I was.
I thought I was either a wolf or a dog, but quickly noticed the shape of my face and soon remembered our study on coyotes in my Life Science class. I had turned into a coyote. I stared for the longest time at myself.
I still felt human, but my coyote instincts were taking over. I could smell other animals, and I felt driven to hunt. I quickly slowed, scared at myself and the unfamiliar instincts that flooded my brain.
Freezing in place, I wondered how on earth I could bring myself back to being a human. My mom and dad would probably not like having a coyote as a daughter. I lay down in the grass in the forest of the park, simply wanting to be a normal girl. I whimpered and quickly drifted off to sleep.
“I found her; she’s right here.” An unfamiliar voice startled me from my sleep.
I opened my eyes to see the ground next to my face. I thought I’d been inside a dream the entire time. When I came to, I quickly realized that I was completely naked and remembered what happened.
The deputy placed a blanket around my body, sitting on the grass, and I tried as hard as I could to cover up myself. I sat there, while everyone around me chattered noisily.
I heard one deputy on the phone with someone saying, “Yes ma’am. She’s right here. She’s fine. We have emergency services on the way to check her out. You might need to bring her some clothes though.”
I instantly woke up. This wasn’t the first dream I’d had like that. They started last summer, right after I’d turned seventeen. These dreams would come in a regular rotation but this was the first time I actually phased into the coyote.
I lay in bed for a while, staring out the window. The moon was waning, but it was as bright as I’d ever seen it before. It made me feel a little bit better, and before I knew it, I was back asleep, dreamless for the rest of the night.
(Do not reproduce without written permission from Elicia M. Seawell)
