Chapter 1: Caught

“Ok, this is going to work! She’s mine now, just doesn’t know it yet.” her chuckle would have come across as evil had anyone been near to hear it. She closed down the computer. She had what she needed. She left the municipal building planning her next steps. She was excited. The taste of revenge was a fine wine on her tongue.

Mary Jane Holiday was sitting at her desk. She held the universities head of indigenous studies chair. She was at that moment flipping through old family photos on her computer. Her sister had sent them to her.

Her sister still lived in the Philippines. No one knew they were sisters. It was Mary Jane’s most important secrete because Mary Jane lived a lie. Every day of her life since moving to America was a lie.

She had been claiming she was of Iaxon Nation descent since her first year of University. She had been made aware that indigenous students received better perks than Filipinos received. Mary Jane wanted to be indigenous.

She was tall for a Filipino, standing five-seven inches. She had a perfect figure. Thirty-five inches by twenty-three by thirty-five. Her breasts were perfect with perfect half-inch diameter nipples. They were an inch long when extended, nestled in a two-inch diameter pink areola.

Her stomach is naturally tight with a cute little belly button, Her hips are nicely rounded and her thighs are perfectly proportioned.

Her vagina was lightly-haired for a Filipino. Her legs are long for her height. She could pass for a North American Indian easily.

She claimed to be of Iaxon (eye-a-x-an) Nation birth. She chose the Iaxan Nation because, in her hurried research, she came across the name and was drawn to it. The name just pulled her in.

A further search of the internet revealed very little about them. They were historically a warrior peoples. They fought the Spanish to a standstill. They were highly prized and priced scouts during the Apache and Comanche Indian wars of the eighteen hundreds.

There was little about them in the nineteenth century. They had no government-designated reservation. They were supposed to have originated out of northern California. She chose the Nation in hopes that nobody would care. She just wanted lower rent costs and cheaper tuition.

In her first weeks at the university, where she was enrolled in Indigenous Studies, Mary Jane obtained a part-time position in student administrative services. Her roll was data entry which gave her access to individual student files. She simply went in and changed her birthplace and heritage information.

She applied for indigenous benefits, received them and went on to access said benefits and every benefit her false indigenous heritage gave her access to until attaining her Ph.D. in indigenous history and studies. Along the way, she became an American citizen under normal student immigration practices. Knowing the right person and having the motivation required, cash, it was done. Her passport identified her as indigenous.

From there she became an tenured indigenous studies professor and just last year at thirty-two years old was appointed head of the department.

She knew she wasn’t awarded the position on merit. It was because she was female and indigenous, she ticked the right boxes to enhance the institution’s reputation for diversity. Mary Jane didn’t care. She loved the three hundred thousand dollars a year the position paid and the perks were amazing.

She was arrogant living her lie. While she was quite attractive, she enjoyed a great figure without working for it, most people tended to avoid her. Her arrogance made her snooty. She just wasn’t a very nice person. It was only her false birth information and drive that had made her what she was today. Alone, but in her own mind, powerful.

Today was the last formal day of the university school year. Mary Jane was looking forward to the summer break. For the first year since entering university, she didn’t have a summer learning session planned.

Mary Jane was living the dream.

She was going to give herself a break this summer. She might even work on a tan something her Asian skin did not overly display but the idea of just laying around in the sun for a couple of hours a day held an appeal that was growing in her. She was looking forward to relaxing and simply enjoying the summer. Enjoying her success, enjoying life!

Out on her back deck, overlooking the ocean, it was a spectacular day. Mary Jane had her fruit drink in a tall bellowed glass with a red and blue striped umbrella sticking out of the top. Besides the umbrella a straw, her lips were wrapped around while her hallowed cheeks indicated her drawing on the fluid within.

Mary Jane was smiling as she brought the 11 x 8-inch brown manilla envelope into her lap and tore the top half inch off. She had no idea what was in the envelope and withdrew the few pages out in a bunch.

Her smile disappeared. Then she stopped breathing as her eyes opened wider while looking over the first page of three in her hand. It was a birth certificate. Her birth certificate. From the Philippines!

The second page was her original application to the university which clearly declared her Philippine descent.

The third was a recent picture of her sister. Walking along the filth-infested road leading to her home. Her sister looked tired and stooped over. She was only thirty-five.

Her sister had walked that road to the grain mill she worked at. Her job was grinding grain for ten hours a day, six days a week. They needed the money. Her sister had six kids. She was lucky. Something happened during the last birth. She could have no more children. Everyone said it was a blessing.

Her husband was a fisherman. That’s why they had to live where they lived. So he could fish and tend his boat in the bay. In their early days, he was a poor but enthusiastic fisherman. However, as his family grew, he became consumed by Lambanog a traditional alcoholic drink made from coconut sap. He spent most of his days now at his still up in the hills. He was of little use anymore.

The mill was where the grain was grown, inland. Mary Jane had walked that same road so many times she could see every foot of it still in her mind’s eye. She had worked weekend shifts to earn the money she needed to get to America. Her sister was supposed to come to America with her. She got pregnant. She never made the trip.

Mary Jane never wanted to go back to live there again. She sent money on holidays to help her sister get by and appease her guilt a little. Mary Jane had introduced her sister to her future deadbeat husband.

Mary Jane pried open the Manila envelope seeking more information.

There was nothing more. Just the three pages. Mary Jane was shaking. Bile rose in her throat. She couldn’t hold it. She tried to get up and make it to the washroom before she spewed, however, in bending her stomach to raise from the chair, it was too much and her drink and recent lunch came flying out. Flying the three feet to splatter onto the framed glass hand railing system that prevented people from falling off her deck to the ground below. The drop was eighty feet. Not a distance one walks away from after a fall.