COLORS OF THE WIND
Chapter Nine
Virginia
Spring, 1607
"I had a nice evening, Kocoum,"
Pocahontas said, as they stood at the edge of their village.
"As did I, Pocahontas," Kocoum
replied as he leaned closer to her.
"Oh, look!" Pocahontas exclaimed,
as she made her eyes travel towards the sky.
"At what?"
"At the moon. It's full tonight. It's
beautiful," Pocahontas answered, thanking the goddess of the moon.
"I'm not interested in the moon," Kocoum
said, and before Pocahontas could distract him, she stood through Kocoum’s lips
being on her own as his hand held hers.
Pocahontas pulled back. "We need to get
back to the village."
"Forget the village, for one night,"
Kocoum said, his black eyes boring into her own.
"Kocoum," Pocahontas said harshly.
"You do not have the right to take me before our marriage. You know
that!"
The warrior gasped and quickly withdrew his
hand. "Forgive me, Pocahontas. You are so beautiful that I tend to forget
myself."
"Well, stop it," she shot back,
anger driving her words.
She turned from him, and began walking
through the cornfields and back to the village.
"Pocahontas," Kocoum’s voice called
to her, but she didn't turn to look at him.
She smiled as Kocoum began to follow her,
muttering words that no respectable Powhatan woman should hear under his
breath.
She laughed, and turned to face him.
"Odd, Kocoum. I think those exact phrases every time I must be near you or
endure your lips."
*****
Pocahontas securely shut the flap of leather
on her wigwam, crossed the floor, and picked up some wood in order to stoke her
small fire. She sighed, lay down under the light deerskin blanket, and closed
her eyes. She felt emotionally drained. She didn't know how long she could
pretend to be happy, how long she could handle the stress of being a prisoner
within herself.
*****
Trees, leaves, the hard forest ground hit her
feet as she ran. The green color distorted her vision, but her feet still
pounded the earth. Wind whirled in front of her, first starting to blow cold,
than warming as it spun faster and faster. She halted in mid-step as, out of
the corner of her eye, she noticed a spinning arrow. The young woman watched,
transfixed as the arrow kept spinning and spinning, faster and faster, until
suddenly, it stopped.
*****
Pocahontas bolted upright, the deerskin
slipping off her. She opened her eyes and glanced around. She was still in her
wigwam, the fire nearly out.
Pocahontas stood and restarted the fire, not
being able to sleep. She sat down and waited for morning.