The place was incredible. Besides the dolls, the shop featured several other Native American knick- knacks. A small, handwritten sign identified the pieces inside one glass case as Sedona Indian Jewelry, which consisted predominantly of turquois and silver rings. Other cases featured Pueblo Pottery and Ceremonial Fans. There were also items called Fetish Sculptures, which were small animals carved from a variety of smooth and polished stones. The dolls, however, were the most striking to me.
“Kachina is a Hopi term that means a variety of things, but it is most simply defined as ‘sacred’ and means ‘Spirit Father.’” Behind me, Kenny’s voice was deep and resonant, but it also had a supple quality. He could have been one of those guys who did commercial voice-over work. In fact, as he spoke about the carvings, I felt like I was watching a documentary.
“There are many types of Kachinas, and each holds different powers and influences. They can refer to spirits, dancers, as well as carved dolls. Kachinas are understood to have human-like relationships and may marry and have children.”
I was most fascinated by the recurring image of a creature with dreadlocks that was bent forward playing some kind of wind instrument. It made me think of a saxophone-playing Bill Clinton early on during his presidency.
“That is Kokopelli,” Kenny said, apparently following my gaze, “a legendary supernatural fertility deity usually depicted as a hunchbacked, dancing flute player and minstrel wearing antlers or horns on his head, which in Native American traditions signifies spiritual power. Of all the Kachinas featured in Hopi ceremonies, Kokopelli is the most famous of all, playing an important role in the rituals related to marriage. Legend has it that everyone in the village would sing and dance throughout the night when they heard Kokopelli play his flute. And the next morning, every maiden in the village would be with child.”
“A regular Don Juan,” I said, laughing uneasily at my own stupid joke.
Courtney was on the other side of the room when I wandered by a glass case containing several carvings of enormous penises. This caught me by surprise, and I involuntarily drew in a deep breath and held it.
“Occasionally,” Kenny commented, “Kokopelli is depicted with a large phallus representing sexual desire and reflecting his role of fertility spirit.”
I made an attempt to look away from the arguably obscene objects, but I was unable to peel my eyes off them. At the same time that my face began to blush, a damp spot between my legs was soaking through my panties, a warmth that had begun the moment I laid my eyes on Kenny for the first time. I could only wonder if he was aware of the effect the Kachinas had on me, and if he knew that it was not the penis dolls that were actually causing my arousal, but him.
I wanted Courtney to see these Kokopelli things, but when I looked around she was standing just outside the front door on her phone. I hadn’t heard it ring so I knew she had called someone, and I would have wagered anything that it was her best friend, and local gossip queen, Victoria Calipietro. When Courtney saw me through the glass, she held her phone out in front of her face, miming taking a picture, and motioning for me to go stand beside Kenny and pose with him. I shook my head in refusal and turned quickly away, surprised to find Kenny standing right beside me. This close, he seemed even taller. I was chest-high to him. My breath went out of me as I looked up at him.
“Those things are certainly an eye-full,” I joked, trying to act nonchalant about the kinky carvings.
“I’m sorry, Shanna,” Kenny said. “I should have warned you.”
“What would you have said, ‘Danger, penis alert!’”
He laughed and nodded in agreement. “Well, I usually don’t get a lot of non-Native Americans in here. My customers are almost entirely Pueblo people, Hopi and Zuni.”
“Really? Here? Are there that many Native Americans around Boston?”
“No, I suppose there aren’t. At least, not enough to keep the doors of a business like this open, which is why it’s in the predicament it’s in.” He motioned toward the walls on either side of us, where folded cardboard boxes were stacked to the ceiling. My gaze returned to him as he continued speaking, “Not to mention that I spend most of my time at Boston University, which doesn’t help much either.”
I felt a sudden jolt of electricity shoot through my entire body. “Are you a grad student?”
He gave a little laugh. “No. I teach. I’m a professor of Native American Studies. Surprising, right?”
“I go to BU. My major is biology, with a minor in zoology.”
He nodded knowingly. “Come to think of it, you do look familiar.”
“Maybe you’ve seen me on campus.”
“I don’t think so, but I believe I’ve seen you on the cover of the university program course book.”
“Oh, that,” I said, feeling my cheeks flushing involuntarily. I was amazed he had recognized me from that. The photograph was from last semester, and my hair was longer. I didn’t know how to respond. “I do a little modeling. I’m finishing up my undergraduate work and I’ve applied to several colleges of veterinary medicine for my doctorate. Modeling is just a way to help pay my tuition.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about your beauty. I can tell that you have so much more to offer the world. Your animal spirit is strong. I sensed that. Veterinarian work is perfect for you.”
“I’ve loved taking care of animals ever since I was a little girl,” I said, a smile forming at the recollection. “I was about eight when I found a nest of birds in a tree in our yard. They were all alone, and making all this noise, their mouths opening for food. They were so helpless. My mother told me that the mommy bird would come back, but she never did.” My lower lip quivered at the memory, and I paused a moment to collect my emotions. “The next day, we found one of the baby birds dead in the nest. I started to cry, but I didn’t want to see
another one starve, so I went right into action to try to save them. It was early spring and it still got cold at night, so I took them inside. Then I got some bread and moistened it so I could feed it to the little birds. They ate it up. Their little mouths opening and closing. They were so cute.”
I stopped suddenly when I realized that I had been rambling. “Listen to me, going off on a tangent. I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear any of this.”
Kenny regarded me with a tender smile. “Did you save them?”
I shook my head. “No. Most of them died fairly quickly, but one of them made it two more days. That third morning, I got out of bed really early, but it was too late. I saw it lying in the shoebox with its little mouth stuck open. It died of hunger. Despite doing everything I could, it still died. I really thought I could save it. After that day, that’s when the idea of becoming a veterinarian first occurred to me. I wanted to help animals. I wanted to do something great, you know?”
“You already possess everything necessary to become great,” Kenny said.