"In high school, I met Yaro. He was just sitting in the hall one day staring off into space. When I walked by, he said, "Look outside." I looked but didn't notice anything unusual. "Thank you," he said. "I was just testing my ability to take command. Most people ignore me."
"He seemed serious. I said, "What do you see?" He said, "Life is calling me to come and take part, but I am just sitting here feeling trapped."
"Let's go," I said on a whim. And we both left school in the middle of the day. It did feel good to take charge of ourselves. We were 14, full of energy, dying to explore the big world, see if our wit and muscle could tackle the adventure.
"We ran without talking. We seemed to communicate telepathically, knowing exactly when to stop and what to do next. It was almost as if Yaro were a mirror of myself. I think he felt the same. After climbing trees, fording streams, and falling exhausted in the field, we laid there a long time.
"I didn't know what to call it then, but now I would say it was love. I fell in love with him. We did nothing to express it. Just lay there thinking, then not thinking. After that day, we were like the cardinals, always looking out for each other, keeping each other in our awareness.
"His family moved after senior year and I felt a great loss. He did return from time to time and we would talk and walk and share about our lives. His family wanted him to be educated back east where his father went to school, a prestigious college so that his degree would entitle him to a professional career and a high class lifestyle. He hated it. Drank a lot, smoked pot, dated, but never loved exactly.
“Perhaps, I shouldn’t put it that way. I am sure he did love, just not in the way the girls wanted him to. Most were into the class and status thing, he told me. He tried to date all kinds, he said, and had some pretty wild stories.
“He told me once of Chau, who invited him up to her room and showed him photographs of herself in all sorts of pornographic poses. He was shocked, as she had seemed demure, quiet, sensitive, maybe even shy. She wanted him to find her beautiful, which, of course, he did, but the photos scared him, he said. He knew he would be getting into an emotional relationship that he might not understand if he slept with this person.
“I asked him, of course, what he did do. He said he praised the photos for their artistic qualities, inquired about the photographer’s training and suggested that she might model for the art classes. Then he told her he had to study for a test and got the heck out of there.
“When he met Saffi, he called me to say, “This time it is real. She actually loves me, and I know her in the way I knew you.” I almost cried when he said that. I wasn’t sure if I was happy or sad. It is just that all of a sudden I felt again the depth of our love for each other, and I did not want the feeling to leave me. Of course, I congratulated him. Then I went to my room and cried for a long time.
“Sweet Roan, you have come a long way in learning to express your feelings. I cherish the stories you share with me. Perhaps it is time to call Yaro. He and Saffi can stay with us for awhile, and you and Yaro can spend time alone while Saffi and I go on an outing to paint or sketch. I am sure the feelings you once shared are still there. Now, you can savor them even more consciously."
“Thank you, Keara. I will.”
The Shock
Yaro caught a bucket of bluegill and was resting on the bank watching the sky turn to evening pink when Saffi returned. She had her basket of greens and spoke of her journey excitedly. Yaro listened, kissed her, said, “Of course.” The river began its night lullaby. Sycamore took a deep sigh. Raccoon was just waking up. Turtle was tucked in for the night. The cardinals were close. EC had used most of her alphabet letters to compose a note and placed it on the Honda under the windshield wiper as she had seen others do.
The note said, “BIG SALE EVENT AT TOP OF HILL. BEER, MODELS, CARS, RIDES, FUN. FREE PRIZES. PLEASE COME.” These were all words that she found humans used on their packaging to entice each other to take action. She had quite a few letters left over, but none that made any sense when combined.
George was down the road, not too far, playing a festive piece so that the humans would, hopefully, hear the music and be inspired to come see what was going on.
They piled their gear into the car. Yaro grabbed the piece of paper from the windshield, looked at the pasted-on letters curiously and handed it to Saffi. “Let’s go,” she said. Soon, they were upon the desecrated spot. “No! they cried. This place was beautiful. How could they?” They had stopped the car, got out and just stood there, heartbroken. Parts of trees were scattered about like dead bodies. They could hear screams even though the entire area was silent. It was not the silence of deep awareness, but the silence of uncaring greed.
Saffi, tuned as she was to the emotional realm, said, “We must treat the area immediately, Yaro. Gather some sticks. We will make a small fire first of all. I still have some crackers. We have fish and herbs. We can offer these. They scrounged the car for other appropriate objects to use in the ceremony.
“Let us sit for a moment, acknowledge what we observe. Then we shall pray.
“Great Spirit of this forest, souls of all who have dwelled here, we come in deepest respect for your life here. We are sorry for the shortsightedness of humanity at this time. Please accept our humble offerings. Take in the essence of these foods. We wish to aid your journey to new homes. We know of a Great Land. We, ourselves, are sometimes allowed to visit there. This land can only be entered by love. We share this love with you. May it be enough to steer you through your grief so that you may find your places on the other shore.
“We light this small fire of transformation and will sit with you until our vision tells us you are safe again and home. Blessed be.”
It was quite dark when their vision cleared of fear, regret, anger and confusion. Finally, they perceived all of the animal species in fine, fresh surroundings. All of the plants breathing easily, their young safe. EC was planting the seeds that had been spared. George was helping everyone get settled. Then, he played the restful song, his favorite for late at night, and gathered some straw and blankets for EC and himself so that again, they could cuddle as the tune sunk within.
The Message
The message machine greeted Yaro and Saffi when they came in the door, its red light blinking. “Hello,” said Roan’s voice. “Keara and I would like to invite you two to spend some time with us. It has been too long and we miss you. Yaro, I miss you. Call soon.”
“The Universe always gives back, doesn’t it Saffi. I would love to spend time with Roan again. Can we work this out?”
“Of course. Let us sleep first. In the morning we will call.”
The Kiss
Keara understood Roan’s feelings for Yaro, as she had experienced something very similar in her youth. About the age of twelve, just when her body was changing, hormones kicking in, breasts and body hair growing, questions multiplying, a new girl moved down the street.
Ohdonna came over one day explaining how she thought they should ride their bikes together to school since they were both going there anyway, and said she would like to leave about 7:30am. Keara agreed and they began riding the “scenic route” as Ohdonna called it. It took longer, but the scenery was definitely better. The roads were flat, but on each side there were oaks with moss hanging from their limbs.
It was not too hot in the early hours and not having to hurry was definitely supreme. After a few months of cycling together, the two were fast friends. One morning, the temperature was above normal and Ohdonna suggested they stop near the creek and just splash around for a few minutes. There usually was 15 minutes to spare, so Keara agreed.
They hid their bikes in the weeds and romped down to creekside. Ohdonna pitched