Origins by Jen Jensen

Author:Jen Jensen [Jensen, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781635558388
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2021-04-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Outside, the wind blew so hard, Jamis struggled to stand upright. She and Levi sought shelter against a building on main street. It ripped past them, like it was angry.

Jamis put one hand up to her eyes to block the dust. Levi did the same thing.

“You’d think after living in the desert my whole life, I’d be used to this wind,” he said.

“Never,” Jamis said.

“We don’t really know anything,” Levi said.

“Not true. We know Idana Drake was killed for some reason. That she lived at the ranch where we met. She owned a brothel, and based on my flashback, she lived there. She was vicious and tough, which I kind of appreciate,” Jamis said.

“That’s concerning. You’re kind of scary,” Levi said.

“Well, not really. I just like strong women,” Jamis said.

“You obviously never met my mom,” Levi said. Just then, a car horn honked. Jamis followed the noise. It was Blaire and Devon.

“Jamis,” Devon called out, rushing to her. He stopped in front of her, a little breathless. “I’m so sorry about last night.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. Blaire arrived at his side. “It all turned out. But do you know anything about Idana Drake?”

“Yeah, I was raised down in Verde Valley, you know, the little city before you climb up here, to Jericho Hill and Jerome,” Blaire said. Jamis and Levi nodded, standing side by side now. The wind had momentarily stopped. “I just remember my grandma saying stuff like, ‘If you don’t go to bed, Idana Drake will get you and eat you.’”

It wasn’t anything really helpful, so Jamis walked away. Perhaps she should have said something, been more polite. But she was lost in thought already. Everyone followed her anyway. She caught their reflection in the window of a store, her striding purposely back to Sapphire, with the three younger people tailing behind her, as if eager for her validation.

Idana was a scary, sadistic lady who lived in a brothel. Jamis couldn’t blame her, not really. Living as a woman before emancipation and property rights must have been unbearable. Living as a woman in the twenty-first century was often unbearable, and Jamis owned all her own stuff. Women were still the more oppressed half of the species, raped, abused, and murdered so much the facts of it became wallpaper. She thought of Stephanie Gardner and clenched her hands. She hoped Bobby Reynolds burned in hell. Her thoughts drifted to Dan Abbey, at home after being released on his own recognizance, his bail posted.

Maybe she did appreciate a terrifying female poltergeist who devoured men. Was that wrong? Maybe her ethics were careening down a slippery slope, but damn if injustice didn’t piss her off. She tried to imagine Johnna’s response to it all. It would be more measured and calm. She’d suggest the entire human condition was one of suffering, in varying degrees, at its foundation. The systems built to sustain humans either made it better or worse. She probably wouldn’t feel this white-hot rage at women’s oppression race through her.

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