Chapter 42: Chapter 41

Mother,

I have pasts inside me

i did not bury properly.

Some nights

your daughter tears herself apart

yet heals in the morning.

Grandma hums as she prepares the different herbs. She claimed it to be a mixture to help with nausea, but just taking in the smell alone was causing my stomach to churn.

Mom and Orion both are leaned towards each other, engrossed in the books that are scattered around the table. I am leaned back as well, but far away from the activity- my mind drifting in and out. It’s only broken by Orion’s occasional question as he puts forth a different name.

“Oscar?”

“Urgh, too bland, not wild enough.”

He shakes his head, going back to the endless lists.

Mom looks up, “Jackeline is a very pretty name.”

“Pass.”

Orion scratches out the name, adding it to the endless pile of rejects I had already decided. My mood was not invested in their project. The first hour had been filled with excitement. Slowly, the more I said no and rebutted their remarks, the more their enthusiasm died down.

“Warren?”

“Pass.”

“Sansa?”

I shook my head, sighing and feeling a weight settle in me. I just wanted to go back to the pack house. The thought of the endless amount of paperwork piling up with each second I wasted here set me on edge.

Mom and Orion go back to their search.

Orion did not seem put off by my sour mood. Mom, on the other hand, seemed just as weary as me.

“Alto?”

Grandma pauses, her eyes critical at Orion now.

“You know that means tall in Spanish…right?”

I gasp in mild horror, “we are not naming it, tall. Just think of the teasing…”

Orion sighs and tosses aside the book Great Leaders in Wolf History.

Mom rubs her forehead, small chips of dried paint falling onto the pages as she stares blankly down.

“How did you do it mom?”

Mom looks up at me, startled by my question.

“Do what?”

I shrug, “name us?”

I had never considered how I came to be in possession of my own name. It never occurred to me to question the origin of it. From the oddness of dad’s own, I figured daisy played a hand in choosing it.

“Oh…we decided early on that I would name the males and Atlas would name the females.”

Shock runs through me. It causes a slight cramp, a bloating in my stomach that has Orion looking at me with concern as my hand grabs the skin around my hips. I shake my head quickly before turning back to mom.

“Wait…dad named me?”

Mom looks uncomfortable, her hands becoming fidgety as they always did whenever she was in a situation that caused her anxiety. It told me she wanted to get away and escape. To cause those hands to stop shaking by the steadiness of holding a brush.

“He…Atlas liked the name.”

“Is that it?” I push her too far as she shakes her head.

“Ask your father,” she smiles weakly. Grandma interrupts us then.

“Grandjay was the one who named Atlas…but that was only because I had told him before what I hoped my child could be named…” a faraway look enters Grandma’s eyes as she stirs the different herbs together, pouring boiling water over.

Upon instinct, we all turn to Orion.

He looks at us oddly, not yet reading the queue he needs to know what information we expect from him.

“Orion, how did your parents name you?”

Orion frowns, a look of displeasure coming over his face. He probably didn’t want to explain the whole story. But he spoke the truth, his words whispered out.

“Camilla told me once…when she carried me she would whisper her hopes to the star that was my namesake,” Orion’s eyes turn to Grandma then, “like you she named me from a story she had heard.”

“Tell it,” Grandma pleads, her eyes eager and shinning to hear what tale Orion had to give.

He pauses, hands going to scratch his beard in thought as he tries to recall the words.

“There was a great hunter named Orion. He loved a woman. She was a hunter like him. One day she said, “Orion how much do you love me?”

He pauses, his words slipping away as he stops to stare at me. I watch him, my breath uneven as he slowly starts back his story.

“And Orion said, “I would give everything for you”…so she took her arrow and pierced his heart to prove his words…and he gave her his heart…” he does not look away as he continues talking. He doesn’t look away as he ends his short tale, letting those words cut into my skin with his grey eyes of steel- letting them pierce my own heart.

“Camilla told me that that was the love that legends were made from. The love that gave all for nothing.”

The name game had gone on long enough. After Orion’s story, I finally put my foot down and said I was tired. Mom and Grandma worriedly took care of me, making sure all was fine before leaving to view the lake.

They sat there now, talking and painting on the porch that overlooked it. Orion was in his usual spot at mom’s feet. Occasionally his head would rise to stare back at him- making sure I was okay.

I had told them I wanted to be alone.

But when I heard the presence of Grandjay, I knew that wasn’t true.

“I’m glad I avoided that.”

He signs as he sits down, his large frame letting the steps groan just slightly before he turns to me.

“You don’t want a say in the name?”

I laugh at the look of horror that spreads across his face. Grandjay did not like to be front and center within the attention.

“Jay jr. has a nice ring…”

“That’s horrible…Orion should know better.”

“He was the one who suggested it,” I lie.

Grandjay shakes his head, aghast at the thought.

I laugh at his expression, letting small rivulets of it spill from me.

It quickly sobers up as we both watch the trio in the distance.

“If Grandma didn’t name dad…if she had never told you…what would you have named him?”

Grandjay looks up towards the sky, a thoughtful expression upon his face.

“I did consider that.”

I look at him, curious now as he softly whispers, “I was very…mad…when Atlas first came. I didn’t want to give her something that she wanted…but I gave in.”

Grandjay’s words confuse me slightly. I only knew the bare details of his past with Grandma. I only knew she had left on a long journey, giving dad to Grandjay to take care of while she continued her travels. It was not something I could blame her for. But looking at Grandjay’s expression of raw pain…

“So you didn’t have a name?”

I push past the subject, not wanting to hear of the sorrow that had gathered in Grandjay’s soul. I didn’t want to learn of how much despair one person could go through but still come out alive from. Learning about the cruelties of life taught you nothing that you didn’t already know. Life was hard. And that was a fact.

“Maybe Hawk?”

“Ew, why would you do that? A bird theme? Really?”

Grandjay blushes. Like me he moves to a different topic, trying to not linger on subjects that either caused him pain or discomfort.

“Have you decided?”

I still, looking out at Orion and the tan wolf that laid upon his side.

“He can name it.”

Grandjay looks with me.

“But in there…you didn’t seem to like them…”

I snort, “ya well, if he thinks I’m invested then he’s happy. But I’m not. He can name it whatever he wants. I don’t care.”

Grandjay frowns, his eyes filling with a painful understanding as he takes me in.

“You do care.”

“No.” I want to stand and leave. I want to go back to the pack house. Orion would follow me though. He rarely left me alone anymore.

“I care about him,” I jerk my head towards Orion, wanting to be clear with Grandjay about what really the focal point in my mind was. “I care about him. I care about the pack. Nothing else. He is-...they are the ones that I will protect and keep safe.”

Grandjay’s eyes don’t leave Orion. We both watch him. The wolf head rises to look at me. He stills when he sees that he has watchers- an audience taking in his actions. A wolf grin spreads across his face, one that makes me smile with him.

“I can understand that.”

I turn to grandjay, a panicked question leaking through me.

“What if he leaves.”

“What?”

His tone is one of confusion as I voice the single question I had been dying to ask Grandjay. The one that I knew only he would have the answer to.

“What if he leaves. What if I do something…I can’t make him stay with me.”

Grandjay inhales- a deep shuttered breath that gathers and collects in his lungs. It’s a breath of infinite sorrow and at the same time- wisdom. It’s a pause to gather his thoughts as he shakes his head.

His eyes are dark, reminding me of a void. They resemble such as thing as Grandjay leans down to me and says, “Soraya. Soraya. I will only say this only once. You don’t allow your soul to leave. Don’t even give them the chance.”