Authors: Summer Cooper
M
ira wandered around the room
, greeting the two dozen people who all seemed to know Angelica at some point in her life, but Mira could not remember any of them. She knew the lawyer’s voice because Herman Childers had been the one to call her, but other than him and her two cousins, she didn’t know any of these people. Because of that and the distance that had grown between Mira and her grandmother, she felt as though this funeral and reception were more for these other people than it was for her. She felt no real loss, only sadness that she had not known the woman better. That was partly Angelica’s fault, she was the one that hid everything and kept so many secrets, Mira told herself, but still she knew she could have made more of an effort in the last few years of the woman’s life. There just didn’t seem to be a reason to do it. Angelica had rejected her granddaughter and packed her off as soon as she possibly could; Mira had taken the rejection for what it was and not bothered the woman.
Walking through the gathered crowd of people Mira thought about how strange her life had been. Her parents died when she was young, a plane crash in Colorado took their lives, and her grandfather has passed well before Mira was born. Mira’s parents had both been only children so the one cousin she had was actually her father’s cousin, not her own. Her father came from a wealthy family of white people, while Mira’s mother’s side had been Hispanic. She didn’t know much more than that except that her grandmother had controlled the money her father had left her until she was 21. She spent it wisely and judiciously, using a portion of it to pay for a master’s degree in history. The rest she’d left in a bank account. She wanted to use it to buy a house one day, maybe when she had a family of her own. For now, she was happy with her tiny New York City apartment, even though it cost a good portion of her wages. She loved being able to look out high above the city and see it spread out before her.
Mira stopped in front of a couple she hadn’t spoken with yet and introduced herself just as the man from the funeral walked in the open front door. She couldn’t break away as she’d only just introduced herself, and pretended to listen as she heard one more story about her wonderful grandmother that all of these people loved. Mira tried to hide her thoughts behind a mask of polite interest but inside, she was battling her own brain. She was seething at how much love her grandmother had shown so many other people while also trying to keep track of the man from the funeral. He was standing by the fireplace in the sitting room now, watching her with a strange look on his face. Mira wasn’t sure if it was concentration or bemusement. Then her eyes widened as she realized he was watching
her
! The sex-god was watching her!
Mira continued to make her way around the room, and people slowly began to leave. She still hadn’t managed to make it to the sex-god, but as the people thinned out she was edging closer. Part of her wanted to run right over to him while another part of her was holding back. Sex-god he may be and yeah he might be watching her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to date her or anything. Maybe he was just one of those weird people that crashed family occasions knowing nobody would pay attention to them while they robbed the house blind? Perhaps, but he wasn’t hiding his interest in Mira at all.
Another thought occurred to Mira then, and she looked around the house, wondering if this one was a decoy and there was someone else wandering around picking up her grandmother’s silver. She didn’t see anyone else and other than her two cousins; it appeared like she was finally going to get her chance to meet the sex-god because everyone else was gone. Taking a deep breath and preparing herself mentally for the meeting by repeating, “don’t be a dork,” over and over in her brain, Mira stepped over to the man with her hand held out and a smile on her face.
“Hi, I’m Mira Clark, and you are?” She asked with a smile.
“Hello, I’m Salvador Perez, I’m head of the Jaguar Clan.” He said with a smile.
“Oh, the Jaguar Clan? Is that a biker gang or something?” Mira asked blankly. She reminded herself of her
don’t be a dork
mantra and made her smile wider.
“Excuse me, Mira honey, we’re going to head home now. Alice has to get her boys ready for school tomorrow, oh and little Amy as well.” Monica said with a smile and another awkward hug. “You take care of yourself and give us a buzz if you need anything. And don’t be a stranger, alright? Keep in touch.” With a breezy wave good-bye, Monica and Alice disappeared through the front door into the night.
And just like that Mira was alone with the man of her dreams. She gave him an awkward smile and asked if he’d like to sit down or needed another drink. She ushered him over to a recliner and sat on the edge of the couch facing him. She looked over at him expectantly, wondering what exactly had brought him here.
“So you were saying about this Jaguar Clan?” Mira prompted him when all he did was watch her with the smallest of smiles on his face. Mira wondered if there was something wrong with her makeup or if someone was standing behind her, he was staring so intently.
“Yes, our clan. We are of the Jaguar people; your grandfather was head of the clan but abdicated to move to America a long time ago. My father took over and now I am the head. But surely your grandmother told you about all of this?”
“Um, no, abdicated what exactly? From where?”
“Mexico, of course.” Salvador replied.
“Oh, right. I thought Mexico had a president?” Mira asked, even more confused now. But she had learned where her grandparents came from at least, she realized. Mira smiled at finally knowing something about her family history.
“It does, but we were-people; we have our own system.” Salvador said calmly.
Mira let her head fall to her right shoulder at the term “were-people”. Oh dear, he’s a psycho; she thought as she remembered Angelica’s books upstairs. Why can’t a stunningly gorgeous man ever be interested in me and not be psycho? What is so wrong with wanting a non-mentally unstable man in my life?
“Ah right, the were-people. So, you’re one of these were-people then?” She asked, wondering how to get him out of the house now. It was really sad that those beautiful eyes, the masculine beard covering his chin and the absolutely unbelievable body belonged to such a mentally disturbed person, Mira observed. Gazing at his face, Mira thought he must be in his late 30s or early 40s but was not sure. Such a shame. Maybe I should do an internet search for were-people; it is a bit odd that there seems to be all this mention of it now, she thought.
“Yes, I am. As I said, we are of the Jaguar Clan. You are to be my wife. Now that your grandmother has passed I have come to bring you to our homeland so that we can be married and you can claim your birthright. Our marriage was arranged long ago, but your grandmother has put it off for several years now. We have allowed you the time to become an adult and to find a path yourself, but it is time you were introduced to the clan.”
“Of course, Mr. Perez, let me show you the door. I’ll just have my lawyer contact your lawyer tomorrow and I’m sure we can settle all of this to both of our satisfaction. You have a good night now, and thank you for stopping by.” Mira said, standing up and making an attempt to usher him to the door.
Salvador never budged, however, simply staring up at her instead. His beautiful lips pursed together in consternation and then he spoke again.
“Your grandmother has not told you any of this, has she?” Salvador asked quietly.
“No, my grandmother shipped me off to boarding school the moment I could walk, it seems like, and she was not a very talkative woman. I seemed to be more of a nuisance, a burden to her than anything. Over the last few years, we haven’t spoken at all, in fact, because she seemed to prefer it that way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long day, may I show you out, please?” Mira asked politely.
“Have you found the books yet? The clan books? There should be three of them at least. Very old, leather-bound books.” Salvador asked as he stood.
“Yes, but I could only read a few pages of the books. What has that got to do with anything?” Mira asked.
“They are our history. Many centuries ago, one of our ancestors was taught to read and write Spanish and started taking down our history. Those books are the result of centuries of writing by our history keepers. That is your job now, and you have a lot to catch up on.” Salvador explained.
Mira quirked an eyebrow at him that was meant to imply, “Wow, presumptuous much?” Apparently it did the trick because he went back to explaining how she’d been chosen by some counsel way down in Mexico to be his bride. Her eyebrow did not go down, if anything it went further up her forehead as her head dropped lower.
“You were chosen for me after our elders consulted the spirit world. In our world, your name is Nik-tee-ha, which is our word for water lily. It actually means vulva of the water, which may sound rude, but it symbolizes the fertility we associate with the water lily. In our culture, the jaguar and the water lily give life and sustenance, without these things we would not exist, and we were each given a name to represent our own importance as the heads of our clan. I suppose you just think I’m crazy now, don’t you?” He spoke quietly as he watched her easing towards the bathroom with her mobile phone in her hand.
“Well, maybe a little bit. It is a strange tale, after all, isn’t it? I’m just going to slip off to the bathroom for a moment; I won’t be long.” Mira practically ran once she got to the hallway, shut the door, and locked it behind her. She leaned against the door, fingers working frantically to bring up her web explorer and research the man in her living room. She quickly found information on him and learned that he was a respected archaeologist working at one of the universities in Mexico. Psychos didn’t usually have department head jobs did they, she said to herself. Nope, not at all. But the tale was too incredible to believe; Mira simply could not believe it. Besides, he kept saying “we,” Mira knew for a fact she’d never turned into a jaguar!
“Okay, think about this, Mira,” she said to herself, “the man is obviously unbalanced, but he’s not harmed you; you don’t feel threatened, so let’s listen to him.”
By this point, Mira’s inner historian was curious as well. She’d studied a bit about Latin American history in her university courses and found them interesting but had focused mainly on North American history. He might be worth talking to as a colleague, if nothing else. Opening the door she walked back out to the living room, wondering how she was going to convince him she was not his betrothed, or whatever he wanted to call her. She came to a sudden halt when she saw a giant cat sitting on her couch, the creature’s head resting on the arm of the furniture, peering at her curiously.
It was a large black jaguar, that much she knew, but how Salvador had managed to get it into her house without her knowing about it stumped her. She’d have heard the creaky old door opening at least. She slowly walked into the room, looking for Salvador.
“Erm, Mr. Perez? Hello? You seem to have left your cat in my living room!” She called out. The jaguar raised its head and emitted a long purr before rolling over onto its back, its legs pulled up as if it wanted its stomach scratched. Mira looked at the giant cat again, noticing now that she could, in fact, see spots on it, darker than the lighter black fur around the spots. She walked over to it, holding her hand out.
“It’s a cat, Mira, not a dog, what are you doing?” She asked herself.
The cat just purred louder and pawed the air, as if to beckon her closer. She sat down on the couch, realizing that the jaguar was obviously tame at least. She stroked its silky fur, giggling as it purred louder and twitched around, following her fingers with its body. She could tell it was male and hoped it didn’t decide to wee on the furniture; it would be worse than a small house cat. Giggling to herself again, she wondered aloud at the spots and how they were still visible. As she rubbed the fur, she looked around, noticing that Salvador’s clothes were resting on the couch he’d been sitting on earlier. At about the same time, she swung her head back to look at the cat she was still rubbing, and she saw the cat go from a fur-covered creature to a long, tall, naked man on her couch.
She let out a shriek as she jumped off the couch, shuffling away from Salvador as he switched from a giant cat back into man form. Her legs caught the edge of the recliner, and she fell into the chair, stunned, absolutely silent. Mira’s jaw hung slack and her hands kept making a circling movement, as though to say, “What’s this?”
Salvador sat up, a contented smile on his face. “I like how you rub my stomach. You have very gentle hands. As for the spots, we are what are called melanistic Jaguars. We are the same as the orange, black, and white Jaguars, but our pigmentation is different. Everyone in our clan is melanistic, meaning we all appear to be solid black, though we aren’t in reality.”
“Oh.” Mira finally managed to garble out. “Well, erm, yes. What now then?”
“Well, if you’ll kindly allow me to take my clothes back, I will relieve you of the burden of trying not to stare at my genitals.” He said, trying to smother a laugh. “I am sorry if I have embarrassed you, I forget not everyone is used to the nudity that comes with clan life.”
Mira was certain her cheeks were not only flaming but actually on fire. She tried to stop herself from staring at him, but she couldn’t help it. For a moment, she thought this getting married idea might not be so bad if that’s what he had to offer her! Well-endowed was definitely the polite way to put it. Stop it, Mira, she reprimanded herself, give him his clothes back.
Standing up, she took the clothes and handed them over to him, going over to the window to pretend she was staring out of it and not really trying to catch glimpses of his beautiful body in the reflection he cast on the glass. Mira thought her knees might actually be going weak. She braced herself against the window frame and turned as she heard his pants zipping up.
Salvador still didn’t have a shirt on, and she could see now that the tattoo that ran across his shoulders and down his back was a jaguar design. She wanted to run her fingers along the outline, feel the parts that the ink covered to see if they felt different. Mira had never felt a tattoo before and always wondered if that part of the person’s skin felt different. Clenching her fist, she smiled at Salvador as he turned back to her.