I loved the sweeping mountains that rose up
out of the ground and the desert surround. I never thought I’d be someone who would like such a barren landscape—I grew up in a mountainous area surrounded by trees…lots of trees—but it really was magnificent. It was almost alien in how different it was from home. Maybe that’s why it appealed to me.
I spotted a small store that had several displays set up outside of Native American art. It caught my eye so I veered off the road and into the lot.
The exterior of the building looked like shiny oak and the shutters and door were all painted a deep red. The parking lot was gravel and it crunched beneath the tires of the car.
The car rolled to a stop and Willow eyed the building.
“Something tells me I’m about to spend all my money.” With that declaration she scurried from the car—her backpack in tow—and into the building.
Willow had two speeds and that was fast and faster.
I took my time looking outside at the various wooden sculptures. Most were of animals—no sloths unfortunately.
Inside the building every surface was covered in something and everything looked handmade. A row of bracelets made from rocks and what looked like shells caught my eye. I picked out two for my mom and sister. I wouldn’t feel right to not bring them back anything. Maybe I’d luck out and find something for my dad and brother too.
Willow came tumbling around the corner—nearly colliding with a shelf, but managed to right herself.
“I see you’re fairing well.” I nodded at the large Native American headdress she wore with a plume of teal colored feathers.
“I’m so buying this,” she declared, holding onto it so it didn’t fall off. “It’s beautiful and the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Looks better than that Big Bird hat you put on at that one place.”
She stuck her tongue out at me.
“What’d you find?” She nodded at the bracelets I held and the headdress nearly fell off.
“Just some bracelets for my mom and Grace.”
“Ohhh,” she exaggerated the word. “I should probably get stuff for my family too.”
She glanced at the jewelry and fingered a necklace with a wooden flower charm on the end. “I think Lylah and my mom would like these.” She grabbed two, choosing ones with different flowers.
We walked down the aisle and she continuously had to reach up and hold the headdress steady.
She spotted a brown suede bag with detailing the same color as the headdress and picked it up.
“Yep,” she declared, holding it up to look at it more closely, “this place is getting all of my money.”
She held onto the bag and continued looking.
I picked up a bow and arrow set, thinking of my brother and dad, but once I saw the price I said hell no. My parent’s had money, but it didn’t mean I did. I refused their handouts—even though I knew they truly just wanted my bank account to be nice and cushy—because I wanted to stand on my own two feet. I also knew, regardless of my wishes, I’d have access to my trust fund when I turned twenty-five or when I got married—whichever came first.
I moved on to another shelf of items and picked up a hand carved Native American figure for my brother. It was hand painted and even I could admire the detail work. I chose a bear for my dad because I knew he’d find the choice humorous.
“Hand me your stuff.” I held out my hands for her items.
“What?” She clutched it close to her body. “I’m not done looking yet.”
Looking. Yeah, right.
“I’m going to put it on the counter so we don’t drop anything.”
“Oh,” she softened at this, “that’s a good idea.”
She handed over her items and I walked over to the register.