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 her shoes aside and got right in. “This is great, Keara, hurry.” Keara quickly untied her laces and set the shoes with socks inside next to a specific rock. In case they walked the creek a bit, she would be able to find them again.
The water, indeed, felt delicious. It happened so suddenly. Ohdonna kissed her. Then she kissed Ohdonna. They giggled. Ohdonna splashed her. Keara reached down to fill her hands with water. Ohdonna grabbed her and they both fell into the stream. “Oh no!“ They both realized with wet clothes they would be in trouble and at the same time, neither wanted to stop the play.
“Let’s kiss some more,” said Ohdonna, and before Keara had time to think it over, they were embracing with the full thrust of newly discovered hormone rushes. No schooling was ever going to compare to this. Keara, having forgotten everything she knew about life as a child was overcome with passion.
Bicycles, books, schools, parents, rules, time schedules, shoes, socks, all were washed away in the stream of new consciousness. Womanhood was born that day. Ohdonna suggested they take off their wet clothes and lay them in the sun to dry. They could crouch down behind the weeds and not be seen. It was the only choice.
They chose the best spot for comfort and safety and snuggled into each other. “Let’s always be friends,” said Keara.
“I don’t know if we can, Keara. I mean we are both girls and people might disapprove. I mean, you know, if we are more-than-friends. Keara could see the problem, but wanted it solved.
“We could form a club and have meetings. Creek Guardians. How about that? We would have to come here, get wet, check in on all the fish and creatures. Make sure everything is as it should be.”
Ohdonna laughed, “That’s a wonderful idea. We’ll do it. You can be president. We won’t have any other members. We will have meetings every Thursday after school. Right here. Deal?”
“Deal.”
And they kissed again as the sun dried their clothing and the shoes waited patiently, in no hurry to go anywhere at all.
The Keepsake
Keara opened the keepsake box she kept in her dresser. Letters from Ohdonna. Shoestrings. A bottle cap with the words “effervescent formula” on it. That is what the whole experience had been for her, the effervescent rising of her sensual capacity, the formula - privacy, time, resplendent nature - for great sex.
She and Ohdonna had kept their Creek Guardian club going for the entire year. They learned all about flow and feeling. They even pretended to be creatures of the creek, modeling their lovemaking one day after frogs and another after fish and sometimes pretending they knew how turtles would do it or crayfish or snails. This way, they told themselves, their club would be legitimate and their relationship would never become boring.
After thoroughly exploring creek critter sexuality, they became even more interested in biology and the environment. Ohdonna is now the head of the Coral Reef Restoration Society. They still chat and send photos online, but it is not the same as laying in the creek together.
