Free Native Tongue by Shannon Greenland Page A

never miscalculated anything. Surely, he’d made a mistake.
     
     
    Then it hit me, and I giggled silently to myself. I’d included the kisses in my dreams last night.
     
     
    I’m such a goof.
     
     
    I made my way back to the stall and peeked over the door again. With his eyes closed, Parrot sat propped against the wall, his legs outstretched in the hay. His horse stood beside him with her head hung low, resting her muzzle on his shoulder.
     
     
    The tender scene brought a small smile to my face.
     
     
    “Thanks for staying,” Parrot whispered, not opening his eyes.
     
     
    His heartfelt words flowed through me, settling a content warmth in my soul. I was so glad I’d made the decision I’d made. “You’re welcome,” I whispered back.
     
     
    I unlatched the stall door, stepped inside, and relatched. Shuffling across the hay-covered floor, I slid down beside Parrot, linked fingers with him, and laid my head on his shoulder.
     
     
    Closing my eyes, I listened to his horse breathing. I inhaled the scent of clean hay and absorbed the slight lifting of his shoulder as he breathed.
     
     
    Time passed, and the three of us stayed like that—Parrot and I quietly bonding and his horse breathing softly on his shoulder.
     
     
    A few minutes later, Parrot rested his cheek on my head. “I never met my dad.”
     
     
    My heart gave a slow thump, realizing Parrot was about to open up a bit. “No?”
     
     
    “He died before I was born.”
     
     
    How sad. At least I had some memories of mine. “Do you have any pictures of him?”
     
     
    “Some. I don’t look anything like him.”
     
     
    “You look like your mom?”
     
     
    He lifted his cheek from my head. “My grandmother, actually. Or, at least, what she looked like before she got sick.”
     
     
    “Sick? Is she . . . gone?” Death was never an easy topic to discuss. Most people dodged it altogether. Only someone who had experienced it could truly understand the depth the pain ran.
     
     
    Parrot nodded. “She was sick a long time. I have no idea what she died of. She refused to go to the doctors.”
     
     
    “Did she raise you?”
     
     
    Silence.
     
     
    “I guess that’s what you could call it,” he cryptically answered.
     
     
    I imagined if she was sick, Parrot probably raised himself while taking care of her. “And your mom?” I asked.
     
     
    “I had her until I was seven, and then my grandmother took over, but she was already sick at that point.”
     
     
    “What happened to your mom?”
     
     
    Seconds ticked by quietly, and, from his silence, I knew the subject of his mom was closest to his heart and most likely off limits.
     
     
    He laid his cheek back on my head. “I don’t know,” he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. “I don’t know where she is.”
     
     
    “Is TL trying to find her?”
     
     
    “Yes.”
     
     
    I squeezed his hand. “Then he will.”
     
     
    With a quiet sigh, Parrot got to his feet. He paced the stall, not looking at me, obviously in deep thought. With each turn of his pace, I detected agitation growing in him. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t know, GiGi, I don’t know. He should have found her by now.”
     
     
    “Parrot . . .” Even I knew the difficulties in finding someone.
     
     
    “With all the technology and the resources around this place. With all the people he knows. He should have found her.”
     
     
    “Parrot . . .” He was getting agitated, a side of him I’d never seen before.
     
     
    He pointed his finger at me. “And you know what just occurred to me? TL’s manipulating me just like Talon did. All everybody wants from me is my language ability, and no one gives me anything in return.”
     
     
    I got to my feet. “That’s not true.”
     
     
    “TL’s used me for exactly what he wanted, and he hasn’t come through with his end of the bargain yet in finding my mother.”
     
     
    “Parrot . . .” I didn’t know what to say. I