called the Tabari, which, if I remember correctly, means White Spirit or something close to that. The rest I have in my notes back home.”
He’s talking tribes, but that’s not what he’s thinking. She’s beautiful, I hear him say inside my head. Heat burns in my face and I can hardly think straight. I feel a little bad trespassing in his mind without his knowledge, but not bad enough to stop.
“I’ll see what I can research about them on my own until then,” I say.
“You can research all you want, but you won’t find anything online or in books, trust me.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s what I tried first. The reason Hahn is able to help me is because of his connections, because of who he is. He’s not just my teacher, he’s a spiritual guide and a scholar of ancient holistic practices. He’s travelled his whole life researching tribes. Campuses book him for conferences all the time; in fact, he knows your dad.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, sort of. Hahn spoke at your school two years ago. Your dad was on the panel. I remember him telling me he had met Nodin’s father.”
I recall a photo in my dad’s office, of himself shaking hands with a short Asian man with glasses, both smiling giant, goofy grins. Before I ask Baron what Hahn looks like, he pictures him and I see it. Same guy.
“The majority of info we got on the Tabari people came from a trip Hahn took to Panama where he visited a colleague who’s been studying them.” He’s rubbing his thumb over my hand. My heart is trying to break out of my ribs like a caged animal. It’s unnerving not being the one in control.
“Are you all right?” he says.
“I’m fine.”
He gives a little half-smile that kills me. I notice a necklace he’s wearing, a milky green stone hanging from a red thread. I reach for it, purposely losing contact with him to roll it around in my fingers. The stone feels cool and heavy. I look at him, prompting explanation.
“That’s peridot. Hahn gave it to me. It’s supposed to help the wearer balance energies.”
“Does it work?”
“I think so, yeah.”
I let the stone plop back against his shirt and point to another tattoo just above the red symbol for seven on his left forearm. “What’s this story behind this one?”
“It’s a Tabono—sometimes called The Paddles. It’s African.” His eyes don’t leave mine. “It represents strength and perseverance.”
I see another one on the inside of his right arm, just above his elbow. “That one? Is that a white bear paw?”
“No, it’s a Native American symbol for buffalo. In my vision, I see a white calf being born. When I researched it, I found that the birth of a white buffalo is considered sacred and prophetic to the Lakota Indians, symbolizing renewal and hope.” He pulls up his shirt, revealing the huge sun I saw on his torso earlier. “I got it done with this one. The Seven Rays sun was in the vision too. I initially just did the white calf hoof, but when the vision didn’t stop I looked harder. Next time I had the dream, I realized the whole vision played out under an immense sun with seven red rays.”
He lets his shirt drop back down and takes my hand in his again. Her eyes are the prettiest blue I’ve ever seen, he thinks.
It feels like my veins are pumping molasses and I can hardly look at him.
“What about the one on this shoulder?” I indicate a circular one peeking out from his sleeve.
More of his feelings infiltrate my mind. He’s also conflicted by the logic that we just met, combined with the intense bond and physical attraction. I swallow hard. He’s talking again, but I can’t concentrate on his words, enjoying watching his mouth move, until I realize he’s no longer speaking.
“Are you okay? Did I lose you?” he asks.
I pull my hand from his, cheeks burning. Although deliciously torturous, I can’t bring myself to touch him anymore. “No, no, I’m sorry. I’ve just...today’s been a lot to process.”
He’s talking tribes, but that’s not what he’s thinking. She’s beautiful, I hear him say inside my head. Heat burns in my face and I can hardly think straight. I feel a little bad trespassing in his mind without his knowledge, but not bad enough to stop.
“I’ll see what I can research about them on my own until then,” I say.
“You can research all you want, but you won’t find anything online or in books, trust me.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s what I tried first. The reason Hahn is able to help me is because of his connections, because of who he is. He’s not just my teacher, he’s a spiritual guide and a scholar of ancient holistic practices. He’s travelled his whole life researching tribes. Campuses book him for conferences all the time; in fact, he knows your dad.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, sort of. Hahn spoke at your school two years ago. Your dad was on the panel. I remember him telling me he had met Nodin’s father.”
I recall a photo in my dad’s office, of himself shaking hands with a short Asian man with glasses, both smiling giant, goofy grins. Before I ask Baron what Hahn looks like, he pictures him and I see it. Same guy.
“The majority of info we got on the Tabari people came from a trip Hahn took to Panama where he visited a colleague who’s been studying them.” He’s rubbing his thumb over my hand. My heart is trying to break out of my ribs like a caged animal. It’s unnerving not being the one in control.
“Are you all right?” he says.
“I’m fine.”
He gives a little half-smile that kills me. I notice a necklace he’s wearing, a milky green stone hanging from a red thread. I reach for it, purposely losing contact with him to roll it around in my fingers. The stone feels cool and heavy. I look at him, prompting explanation.
“That’s peridot. Hahn gave it to me. It’s supposed to help the wearer balance energies.”
“Does it work?”
“I think so, yeah.”
I let the stone plop back against his shirt and point to another tattoo just above the red symbol for seven on his left forearm. “What’s this story behind this one?”
“It’s a Tabono—sometimes called The Paddles. It’s African.” His eyes don’t leave mine. “It represents strength and perseverance.”
I see another one on the inside of his right arm, just above his elbow. “That one? Is that a white bear paw?”
“No, it’s a Native American symbol for buffalo. In my vision, I see a white calf being born. When I researched it, I found that the birth of a white buffalo is considered sacred and prophetic to the Lakota Indians, symbolizing renewal and hope.” He pulls up his shirt, revealing the huge sun I saw on his torso earlier. “I got it done with this one. The Seven Rays sun was in the vision too. I initially just did the white calf hoof, but when the vision didn’t stop I looked harder. Next time I had the dream, I realized the whole vision played out under an immense sun with seven red rays.”
He lets his shirt drop back down and takes my hand in his again. Her eyes are the prettiest blue I’ve ever seen, he thinks.
It feels like my veins are pumping molasses and I can hardly look at him.
“What about the one on this shoulder?” I indicate a circular one peeking out from his sleeve.
More of his feelings infiltrate my mind. He’s also conflicted by the logic that we just met, combined with the intense bond and physical attraction. I swallow hard. He’s talking again, but I can’t concentrate on his words, enjoying watching his mouth move, until I realize he’s no longer speaking.
“Are you okay? Did I lose you?” he asks.
I pull my hand from his, cheeks burning. Although deliciously torturous, I can’t bring myself to touch him anymore. “No, no, I’m sorry. I’ve just...today’s been a lot to process.”
Similar Books
