Uncivilized (Uncivilized 1)

When he turned me around in the chair and I saw myself in the mirror, I waited for sadness to hit me that my hair was gone... because it was one of the things that identified me as a Caraican. But it didn't. I just stared with interest, noting how short it was on the sides, but he left it a bit longer on top. My hair was actually a bit wavy and, without the weight of the long locks pulling it down, it flipped at the ends in about a dozen different ways. I looked younger, or so I thought, and I was generally pleased.

Standing outside the barbershop, I look down the street left and right, trying to decide what to do. No doubt, Moira would be up by now, but I still wasn't ready to face her. I had no clue where we stood, and I wasn't ready to find out just yet.

So I head in the opposite direction, and just start walking.

I need more time to think.

I'm so fucking lost.

How in the hell did that happen?

I've been navigating my way through the Amazon for most of my life, hacking away new paths with my machete and exploring unseen areas. I always found my way back.

But after walking around the suburbs of Evanston, Illinois, fuck if I have a clue as to where I am.

Turning down a new street, I hope for some familiarity, but find nothing but new sights and sounds. I walk for another few blocks until I emerge on another street that has some businesses. A small diner, an antique shop--no clue what that means, and a locksmith. No clue what that means either.

Just down the street in a small parking lot, I see two police cars parked beside each other, facing in opposite directions. Knowing what those are, I head toward them. I have a sudden and distinct memory of a police officer coming to my school when I was little. I don't quite remember why he was there, but he talked to our class, and I remember him being in a position of authority and security. I figured they were my best bet to figure out how to get back to Moira's.

When I approach the cars, I see their windows are down, and the cops are talking to each other. Their gazes lift toward me, and one of the officers gives me a small smile. "Can I help you?"

Scratching my head, because this is awkward and embarrassing, I tell him, "Yeah... I'm sort of lost and can't find my way back to my friend's house."

The officer arches his eyebrow at me. "New to the area?"

"You could say that," I tell him.

"What's the address and I'll get you pointed in the right direction?"

Address? Fuck.

"Um... honestly, I don't know. It's a white house with black shutters."

I can see immediate distrust wash over the cop's face, and he opens his car door to step out. "You don't know the address?" he asks skeptically. "And you say this is a friend's house?"

I put on my friendliest smile. "Okay, I know this sounds weird... but, um... I've actually been living in Brazil for the past eighteen years and the woman I'm staying with was hired to bring me back here to the United States and help me adjust to this culture. I've been staying at her house."

Apparently, that didn't go over any better because I see the cop's distrust magnify. The other officer now steps out of his car and gently shuts the door to face me. I expect at any moment for them to pull their guns or something, which makes me feel twitchy. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, so I take a step backward.

"You needed help to acclimate to what? Your English seems pretty good to me," the cop says.

Taking a deep breath, I let it out and lay it on the line. "I actually lived in the Amazon... with an indigenous tribe. This is my first time back in the modern world. The woman is an anthropologist at Northwestern, and she was hired by my godfather to 'rescue' me and bring me home."

Now both of the cop's eyebrows raise high with surprise. One of them says, "Are you fucking with us?"

"No, sir. I'm not keen on you shooting me," I tell him with a grin.

The other officer starts laughing and gets back in his car. "I'll pull up her address, Carter, and give him a ride over there."

The cop, whose name I now know to be Carter, nods and gets back in his own car. "Go ahead and get in his backseat. He'll take you over there."

With relief, I thank him and get in the other cop's vehicle. When I close the door, he says, "I'm Officer Stevens. What's your name, buddy?"

"Zacharias Easton," I tell him.

"And your friend's name?"

"Moira Reed," I supply and then add on, "I really appreciate it. I can't believe I got lost."

"Can happen to the best of us," he says while he types away on a small computer mounted to his dashboard. "So you really lived in the Amazon for eighteen years?"

"Yeah. My parents were missionaries there, and they died when I was eight. The tribe adopted me. I had no clue there was someone here in the States looking for me. Don't remember a whole lot about my time here."

"Fucking incredible," he says thoughtfully. "Okay, I got it. Moira Reed... she's over on Kopoula Street."

"That's it," I say with recognition.

"Okay," he says as he starts the car. "Put your seatbelt on, and I'll have you home in a jif."

When we pull up into Moira's driveway, utter relief courses through me. It's a shitty feeling being lost and out of control. I try to open the car door, but it's locked.

"Hold on," Officer Stevens says. "I'll have to open it from the outside."

He exits the car as I take off my seatbelt and, when the door opens, I step out onto the concrete driveway. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"No worries," he says with a smile. "But I'm just going to go up to the door with you."

Ahhh. I get it. He wants to make sure that Moira really does know me, and that I'm not some lunatic trying to murder her. Very impressive.

Just before we hit the front porch step, the door flies open, and Moira comes running out. She looks stunning, her flamed hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She's wearing a butter yellow sundress with white flowers around the hem. "Oh, thank God, Zach. I've been worried sick about you."

Her eyes flick back and forth between the cop and me, but when they rest back on me, she says in surprise, "You cut your hair."

My fingers rise up and sift through the short locks. "Yeah... I guess so."

She smiles at me briefly and says, "I like it."

Turning to the police officer, she says, "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, ma'am," he assures her. "He just got a little lost and couldn't remember how to get back here. I assume you know this man."

"Yes, he's staying with me while visiting from Brazil."

"He told me the story. That's pretty amazing," he says kindly. "Well, I need to get back out there. You two take care."

We both say goodbye, standing on the porch and watching as the officer pulls out of her driveway. When he's gone from sight, I turn around and look at Moira. "I'm sorry you were worried. I just went walking and don't understand how I got so lost."

Before I know what's happening, Moira launches herself at me, slamming her body into mine. Her head rests on my chest, and her arms wrap around my waist. Squeezing tight, she says, "I was going out of my mind with worry. I had no clue what happened to you."

My arms come up and tentatively wrap around her. The way she's so boldly touching me now confuses me. It's not a sexual touch, but rather a warm embrace of relief. It's nice to have been missed.

"That's it," she says as she releases me and pulls back. "We're going out right now and buying you a cell phone so you can call me if something like that happens again."

"Sounds good," I tell her with a grin. "I know there won't be a cop on every street corner to rescue me every time."

Moira turns away and heads back into the house. I follow her in, noting that her shoulders still look tight, so I know something else is bothering her. She walks into the kitchen and picks up her coffee cup that was on the table. I watch as she pours the contents into the sink and then rinses the cup.

I silently walk closer to her and, when she turns around, I don't hes

itate for a second. My hands go to her face, and I pull her in closer to me. Her eyes go wide, and her mouth opens slightly.

Perfect.

I lower my face and touch my mouth to hers.

Our very first kiss.

My very first kiss with a woman.

Moira sighs at the light touch, and instinct takes over. I slip my tongue in between her lips... past her teeth and, when it touches hers, a breath of pleasure releases from my mouth into hers. My lips move against hers, our tongues twining. She tastes like coffee and sugar. Unbelievable how soft her lips are.