Apache Moon - short story

First I must premise this by saying it is an LGBTQ+ story. It is not graphic. But a story none the less. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.

Apache Moon by Michael Peterson

Back then the love between same-sex people was taboo and almost outlawed. One could be beaten to death or tried for crimes that we're not committed simply under the suggestion of a sexual perversion. For those of us who found comfort in the arms of those who look like ourselves, the world was a very different place. It was the fall of 1991 when my whole world changed.

I meant a young Native American man called Dancing Bear, but his government issued name was David. Dancing Bear had long jet-black hair, high set cheekbones and Sun kissed skin in the most beautiful bronze-color you ever saw. More like a walking statue carved from some unworthy piece of mahogany. His voice was soft and melodic. Though his laughter was loud and booming, full of life and cheer. People flocked to Dancing Bear like moths drawn to flames. All the girls swooned over him, and the men touted him as a lady killer, wishing they had only a part of his natural charm and charisma.

But I knew his heart. A thing many claimed to know and understand. In Native culture they call it Twin Flame. The banter between us was always topical and child-like in its innocence and always in good humor. As I said we lived in a time where being attracted to anything other than what was "the norm" could cost you your life. Not that either of us had terminology for what we felt. We were just really good friends and talked alot about our childhood, the poor decisions our parents made, the hardships of being a kid, and school, you know, the meaningfully and important topics of "serious" youth conversations. 

We didn't attend the same school, as he went to school on the reservation. But I always rushed home to just spend as much time with him as I could before our parents called us in for the night.

Growing up I was bullied alot as a child. I came from a very small town, and was ignorant of the city and the life of the kids therein. My limited education of bigger topics, terms, and going on's, were not up to date with the more mature children of the big city school that I was forced to attend after my parents divorced. My only saving grace was Dancing Bear, and our friendship. 

On my way home from school one afternoon, my bullies Tom Fredricks and Scott Newland found me and beat me up and tore my shirt, for no other reason than the sport of it. After the assault, I gathered my few things and shuffled home whimpering and feeling sorry for myself. When I came into the apartment complex bloody and crying, Dancing Bear was the first to meet me. He asked me what had happened and I told him the whole affair. 

He walked me to my door, and gave me a hug. That was the first time he had ever hugged me. I felt his strength and his warmth. I felt a strange attraction that I had never felt before. It was like two magnets pulling, trying to unit themselves. An almost supernatural force.

Later that night I heard a tapping on my window. In the pale moonlight I could see it was him and I opened the window quickly. 

"how you doing bud?" He whispered. His voice gave me goosebumps. I dismissed the feeling and thought it must have been the cold fall weather. 

"I'm ok. My mom said she's going to the school tomorrow to talk to the principal. I asked her not to, but she's really mad" I trailed off. 

He smirked at me and said "well I think tomorrow is going to be much better. You have a good night bro." I could see that he had dirt on his face, which was unlike him to even have a hair out of place. But he ran from my window and I heard his door slam shut. 

That next morning my mother took me to school and had a meeting with the principal. When I was allowed to return to my classroom, everyone was whispering as I walked in with my pass from the office, and I took my seat. 

At break, several people came up to me and asked me about the fight that I had with Tom and Scott. I recanted the story to my small captive audience. Then I saw Tom and Scott. Both with swollen black eyes, and busted lips. Apparently the school yard thought that I did that to them, and was all a buzz about it

. 

At lunch, I had to stand behind them. All eyes examining us. They turned to me and Tom said "bout yesterday, sorry man" and then Scott quickly added "no hard feelings" and they got out of line and cut in front of the people at the front. I didn't know what to think. Hushed whispers rang out when they quickly walked away. I felt really insecure about all of it. I was always the type to try to stay out of sight, for fear of being on some bullies radar and getting beat up, even though many times I was much larger than they were, and more stronger physically. 

That day after school I walked home as fast as I could. But I was met by Dancing Bear about a block up from the school. “Hey dweeb, how was school today?” he called out. It startled me and I got excited and replied “It was strange. Scott and Tom had black eyes and were all busted up. Everyone was talking about it. Like I did that to them. They even apologize to me.” I said as I looked over to him. He had a big grinning smirk. In the full light of the day I could see that he had a few scrapes and what appeared to be a bruise on his jaw. But with his dark complexion it was hard to tell.

“Oh good they said sorry, not that it makes up for the fact that they touched you to begin with but…” he stopped. “Did you beat them up?” I shyly asked. His smirk turned into a full smile, and he scrunched his face “I dont know what you are talking about” he snorted. No one ever did anything like that for me. Mostly I was just a wallflower. Something that was in peoples way, not something that would be noticed or even made a fuss over. “Well whoever or whatever did that to them I’m thankful for it” I said sarcastically. It was now summer and my mom found a new house that was cheaper than the apartment we currently lived in and wanted to move us away. Even though it was only a few miles away on the other side of town, it might as well been the seventh moon of Jupiter. I protested the best I could, but she had already signed the paperwork and told management that we would be out within a few weeks. 

The last night in our apartment, Dancing Bear came to my window. “Hey you.” his voice was falsely upbeat. 

“So tomorrow is the big day huh?” 

“Yeah, I dont want to go. I like it here. I dont want to leave you behind.” I confessed.

“Its not that far, we’ve walked further together. Its not like its a state away or anything. We can still hang out” he said. The thought of us still being friends and hanging out somehow made it easier to leave. But those were the promises of children. Children who had no control over where their lives would take them. After a few days of getting settled into my new house, I got on my bike and rode over to the old apartment to go see Dancing Bear. When I got there, and knocked on his door. His grandmother answered the door and said that he had been taken by Child Protective Services and placed back out on the Reservation.
My heart broke. The Reservation was twenty miles away and quite literally two cities away. Sadness and grief filled my little heart. 

Some years passed, and I had made friends with other people and had even moved back in with my father after my mother made a series of really bad decisions that affected my safety. It wasn’t until the summer of my high school graduation in 1999 that I returned to the town that I had once lived in. I still had a ton of friends and people who lived there and would come back every few weeks and visit with them when I lived with my dad. But the day after I graduated High School, I went over to my friends house, where they were having an end of the school year/graduation barbecue to celebrate. When I pulled up to the house, there were tons of people standing in the yard. Music blaring and the smell of a cook out in the air. Everyone shouted out my name as I pulled in. All but one.

A tall young man, with jet black hair down to his waist, slowly turned, as my heart dropped when we locked eyes.It was Dancing Bear. I dropped my overnight bag and ran to him and we threw our arms around each other. It had been ten long years since we saw one another. And it was just a coincidence that he was here, at my new friend's house. It was like the music and everyone disappeared. Holding back tears in my eyes I whispered into his ear “where have you been? I’ve missed you so much.” He squeezed tighter “lost until now.” Those familiar goosebumps returned to my skin, like they had that night at the window.
The onlookers were confused, as they watched this familiar intimate embrace. He wrapped his arm over my shoulder and grabbed my bag off the ground. “How the hell do you two know each other?” my friend Justin asked. We both laughed “We’ve known each other for a very long time, and its a reunion long past due.” Dancing Bear said. 

I watched him dancing, singing, fooling around, carefree and happy. Like we did growing up.How the whole world seemed to be caught in his orbit. My heart was happier than it had been in years. As night approached, we “had to go to the store”, so we excused ourselves and went for a walk. We caught each other up about what had happened over the years. What adventures we went on. And how there always seemed to be a void in our lives because we were not able to stay in contact. 

It was a full moon that night. The air was thick, but cool for a summer evening. There was an outlook that had an old grove of olive trees on it. A place that I went to many times throughout the years when I needed to get away from everyone. We sat down in the thicket of grass and just looked at the rising full moon coming up over the horizon. In the dim light, I could still see his bronze skin, and long black hair. He was outlined in pale golden yellow. It was like a dream. Us sitting together, talking, laughing the way we did when we were younger. He looked over at me and smiled. “What?” I asked. “Nothing, just looking at you. Seeing the kid I knew looking back at me from a mans face. Its nice.” I was caught off guard by this. “I love you. I have since the moment we met. You are seriously the only person who kept me sane living in those apartments. And when you left, it killed me. Part of the reason I went to live on the Reservation. I couldn’t stand being there without you” he stopped. “I came back a few days later and your mom had told me that CPS took you. I think I cried the whole way back to my house.” He put his strong arms around me and hugged me. “Well I am here now, for tonight anyways, and with you and that is all that matters. I forgot how much fun it was to be around you.” Then he kissed me. A deep longing, passionate kiss. The type of kiss that had more than love behind it. It was my first time ever kissing a man. But instinct took over and I returned it. It wasn’t ‘kissing a man’ to me, it was like kissing my other half. That part of me that had been missing my whole life up to that point. My heart, my soul, my spirit connected with his, like the magnets finally embraced. Like all that was wrong in the world, all that held us back, went away and we connected deeper than anything I had ever felt before. We laid in the grass, embraced in something that transversed the mundane. It was more than two bodies in the thralls of passion. It was the reunion of two halves made whole. It was a spiritual intimate connective bond. To call it anything other than love would be to cheapen and prevert what was taking place.

The moon now in all of its full glory swon down on us. The stars, our blanket. The earth, our bed. I laid there listening to his heart, and to the breaths he took. I never wanted it to end. But like all good things, it had to. We realized that we had been away from the party longer than was acceptable. 

“Do we have to go back?” I asked. “I dont want to either but I think its best we do” he said while putting his shirt back on. We slowly walked out of the old olive grove, this time holding hands. Another first for me, but it wasn’t strange, or unusual, it was comforting, it was home. When we got within a block of the house, we could still hear laughing and the smell of burning wood in the bonfire now. He looked at me and kissed me again. As he let go of my hand and we walked up the driveway to mingle back into the crowd. We sat around the fire listening to Art Laboe's top 40s. We all eventually made our way into the house, and into our respective sleeping areas. I laid on the floor in the den by myself, staring at the ceiling. It was dark, and cool. A shadow appeared. It was Dancing Bear. He laid next to me on the floor and draped his arm around me. He looked up at me and again our lips met. The whole dance began again. And when it was done. We held each other for what seemed like forever. And he said “I have to get back to my room, otherwise im going to fall asleep here and we’ll have some explaining to do in the morning.” And of course I protested. But I understood what he meant and didnt want to have to answer those questions when the others woke up and found us laying together. By the time I woke up that morning, he had left again. He was never one for goodbyes. But I still felt him. Like a fresh kiss was on my cheek. My Dancing Bear had returned to wherever it was that he went when we were not around each other. My heart hurt as I didnt know when or if I would see him again. 

But to this very day, full moons hold a special place in my heart. Over the years, I’ve heard through the grapevine here and there that he is doing well, or that someone spotted him in this town or that town. But I still have yet to see my Twin Spirit. But every full moon, I look up and say a prayer, that he is blessed, well, and loved.