by Emmens, Joye
The path led them out of the forest alongside a creek, bordered with large smooth boulders. Farther down they came to a deep emerald pool. Jasmine and Mark stripped naked. Mark’s tan muscular body arched in a dive and disappeared into the water. Circular ripples patterned the water. Jasmine dove in after him, her shapely curves and long hair swallowed beneath the surface. Will followed, his tall, lean frame perfect, like a Michelangelo statue. She hesitated, then quickly disrobed and slipped in, too inhibited around Mark and Jasmine to make a show of a dive.
The pool was cold and exhilarating. One by one they climbed onto the smooth rocks. Jolie slipped on Will’s T-shirt, pulling it down around her thighs.
Will traced the formation of several red blisters on his hands from chopping wood. Jasmine took his hand. “You need some salve on these. I’ll make some for you later.”
“Get some sun on your body, Jolie,” Mark said.
“Leave her be. She’s shy,” Jasmine said.
They spent the afternoon diving in and out of the cool water and lazing on the sun-kissed rocks. Jolie quickly covered up when she got out of the water and averted her eyes from Mark. Will and Mark talked on about the war machine and imperialistic policies. When Jasmine swam to the far end of the swimming hole Jolie swam after her. At the outlet of the pool, Jasmine picked up a plastic bottle that was nestled by a log and held it out to her: Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soap.
“Have you ever read this crazy label?”
Jolie shook her head.
Jasmine read: “Absolute cleanliness is Goodliness! Teach the Moral ABC that unites all mankind free…This cat goes on and on and on.”
Jolie took the bottle and started to read out loud the principles of we’re all one or none. They laughed and soaped up, their bodies tingled in an explosion of peppermint. The goat smell faded.
Mark and Will dove in and swam over. Mark’s gaze rested on Jolie’s breasts. “What’s going on here, my bathing beauties?” Mark said.
Jolie wished her breasts were smaller. Men always seemed to stare at her. But they did help her pass for eighteen. She sank lower into the water and turned away. She was not his bathing beauty.
In their cabin that night Jolie rubbed salve on Will’s hands. Jasmine had given it to him at dinner. She’d made it from guava leaves, herbs and natural oils. The smell was pungent but not unpleasant. Jolie breathed deep to get the goat smell out of her nostrils from the late afternoon milking. After they had finished the milking, Grace taught her how to make yogurt.
Tired to the bone, she rubbed the balm on his blisters. She had worked twice as long as he had that day. After she and Grace finished the yogurt they joined everyone in the summer kitchen where dinner was already underway. She was proud of the work she had done and was warmed by Will’s smile when she sat down at the end of the table.
Will closed his eyes as she massaged the balm on his hands. “I’m not cut out for that kind of labor.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m a leader not a worker.”
“But in a socialist society everyone is equal. Everyone shares in the work.”
Will shook his head. “There are still roles in socialism.”
“But the ranch already has a leader,” Jolie said. “Grace told me that Mark helped start the commune and he owns the only working vehicle which gives him power over the trips out of the ranch.”
Will lay back on the bed. “He’s on a power trip alright.”
Two weeks after they arrived at the ranch, Mark held a meeting in the summer kitchen after lunch. “We need to share the workload,” Mark reminded the group. “We all committed to a minimum of three hours of work a day. Three hours for the family.”
“The women do far more work than three hours a day,” Grace said.
“Let’s keep track of how much we work and then we can even out the chores,” Jade said. “And tell me something, why can’t the men milk goats too?”
Jolie suppressed a smile. That was brave. She had wondered the same thing.
Sky looked up from the piece of wood he was whittling. “Whoa, what happened to Free People?”
Duties at the ranch were clearly split into traditional male and female roles. The women hauled water for the summer kitchen from the spring by the main house, tended the garden, milked the goats morning and night, made goat cheese, yogurt, grinded wheat for bread, baked bread, dried fruit, cooked, cleaned, and tended the children.
The men felled trees and chopped wood. Despite the efforts, the winter firewood stockpile seemed to shrink. Some worked on the broken down vehicles, the lifeline to the ranch, although there never seemed to be any progress.
Jolie slid onto the bench next to Will. It was no wonder Mark was laying down the law. She knew Will wasn’t pulling his weight which compelled her to work harder. The ranch chores didn’t fit his personality, a personality she was just getting to know.
“We are free people,” Mark stressed. “The ranch is devoted to open-mindedness, free thinking, and the ability to do what one wants. But we also need to keep the work organized to survive.”
“We need to elect a leader,” Will proposed.
“A leader could hold everyone accountable,” River said, as he stroked his beard.
“No,” Mark said. “That breeds politics. We’re here to get away from traditional governance.”
As the conversation continued, Jolie’s mind wandered. It was hard to concentrate in the afternoon heat. This wasn’t the life she’d envisioned. All she wanted was to be with Will, but now she was with Will and thirty-five other people in the wilderness. She was constantly self-conscious about her age. How could they get out of there?
Since they had arrived the Power Wagon had not moved once. She wondered if it really ran. She needed to talk to Will about leaving. They had only been there two weeks but it seemed like an eternity. Time moved differently there. She thought they were going to make the world a better place. That’s what he had promised her. But now he seemed content to fill the pages of his notebook with a socialist manifesto and was in no hurry to leave.
That afternoon Jasmine and Jolie stayed to clean up after lunch. Will wandered off with a group of men to sit in the shade and most likely talk politics, their work being done for the day. Across the meadow they caught a glimpse of Mark and Jade holding hands. The pair walked down the path out of sight. Jolie glanced at Jasmine. Her face was blank.
Jasmine caught her gaze. “We’re all free here.” But she couldn’t disguise the pain in her voice.
“Let’s get Will and go swimming,” Jolie suggested.
“No, you go on. I need to make an herbal tea for our soon-to-be mothers.”
Jolie hesitated. “I’ll stay with you. I’d like to learn about natural medicine.”
Jasmine appraised Jolie for a few moments. “Well, if you are interested, I could use an apprentice. The family is growing.”
Jasmine took out a weathered leather notebook from the outdoor cupboard. She flipped through and opened it to a page with soaring script and sketches of plants. From another cupboard, she pulled out three glass jars full of dried leaves and flowers, labeled in the same flowing script.
Jolie stoked the wood stove and boiled water for the tea and then sat down to watch Jasmine work. Jasmine pulled out an antique scale. Her large brown eyes were intent on the task, and her long, delicate fingers and tan arms flowed as she weighed and mixed herbs and ground them together with a mortar and pestle. Wisps of silken hair escaped from her braid and fell over her paisley halter top. Jolie wondered if she would ever be as beautiful and confident as Jasmine.
Jolie placed the teapot next to the pestle and Jasmine carefully measured a portion of the herbs into the pot. “This will keep their swelling down in this heat,” Jasmine explained. “Here, divide the rest into these.” She gave Jolie two small glass jars. “And don’t be so quiet. You
can ask me anything.”
“How did you learn all of this?”
“I studied naturopathic and herbal medicine in San Francisco. Some things I’ve learned through trial and error.” Jasmine smiled at her. “I haven’t killed anyone yet.”
Jolie glanced up from her task and smiled back. When the jars were filled she leafed through the notebook. It contained handwritten instructions on how to prepare and administer herbal cures for any number of ailments. Notes and drawings filled the margins.
After the tea steeped, they walked through the meadow to the circle of geodesic domes. The two pregnant women sat in the shade talking.
“Jolie is my new apprentice,” Jasmine said, setting down the teapot.
The women smiled at her. “Ah, another sister of medicine,” one said.
Timidly, Jolie handed them each a small jar of the dried tea mixture. “Use one teaspoon per cup in the morning,” she said. She had affixed a label of the ingredients and the amount to use on the jars.
“Where are you from?” one of the women asked.
She stiffened. Will had instructed her to be vague. “Near Los Angeles.”
“Oh, you’re not far from home. I’m from Vermont.”
Jasmine disappeared inside the dome and brought out two cups and poured the women tea. They sat in the shade under towering pines. Jolie listened as they talked. The fragrance of warm pine needles drifted down around them. Jasmine placed Jolie’s hand on one women’s bulging stomach. Jolie jumped when a sudden lurch pressed her hand. The baby?
The woman laughed. “She wants to say hi.”
“You already know it’s a girl?” Jolie said.
“That’s what Jasmine claims.”
Jolie looked at Jasmine quizzically.
Jasmine tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “I’ll share my secrets with you if you’re interested.”
Over the next few days Jasmine showed her the herb beds planted at the far end of the vegetable garden. She taught her how to make various remedies for bruises, sprains, colds, earaches, insect bites, and stings. Jolie accompanied her when anyone needed a treatment. One day, instead of milking goats, Jolie went with Jasmine and collected roots and plants from the forest to replenish the supplies. Jasmine explained the timing of the harvests to maximize the potency. They worked side by side under the tall trees.
“Do you know the three things that cannot stay hidden for long?” Jasmine asked after a while.
Jolie stopped digging the Oregon grape root and shook her head.
“The sun, the moon, and the truth.”
Her jaw clenched. Did Jasmine think she was hiding the truth?
“Do you know where to find the truth?”
Jolie shook her head and scanned Jasmine’s face. Did she suspect something?
“The truth is within you. You can find it through meditation and Buddha’s teachings.”
Jolie exhaled slowly.
“I can teach you to meditate if you want,” Jasmine said.
“Okay, I’d like to learn.”
“After we finish here we’ll meditate. It will help you relax. You’re a bundle of nerves.”
Was it that obvious? They walked back to the main house and laid the leaves and roots on drying racks. Jolie inhaled the scent of the woody mixture.
Jasmine got a blanket and a stick of sandalwood incense. Jolie followed her to a shady spot on the edge of the stream. They sat cross-legged facing the water. Jasmine lit the incense and placed it in the ground. “You’ll need a mantra.”
“A mantra?”
“It’s a powerful instrument of the mind. When you silently repeat it you’ll disconnect your thoughts and with practice you’ll eventually get to the source of your mind.”
“You can get to the source of your mind?” Jolie asked.
“Yes, to your pure consciousness, your true being. The source of the universe.”
“Wow,” Jolie whispered.
“I’ll share my mantra with you. It’s om. When you chant, it sounds like this: ah-oh-mmm.”
Jolie smiled. “Om?”
Jasmine nodded. “Silently chant your mantra to quiet your thoughts. If your mind wanders, release it and come back to your breath. Breathe naturally. Inhale and expand your belly. Exhale and relax. When you exhale, your navel wants to touch the front of your spine. It’s the way babies breathe.” Jasmine demonstrated the breathing technique. “Meditation is a source of inner peace. You can draw strength and courage from it. It will give you the confidence you need in life. Close your eyes and focus on your breath.”
Jolie closed her eyes and followed her breath, silently chanting om. The scent of a sandalwood forest filled her. As she exhaled, her thoughts flew to her family. What were they doing right now? How could she let them know she was okay? Her troubled emotions swirled in her mind. When could they leave the ranch? She focused on breathing. When she opened her eyes sometime later Jasmine was still next to her, eyes closed with a serene smile. A wave of homesickness swept over her. She wanted to find Will. He always reassured her that she had done the right thing in leaving home.
She found Will in the summer kitchen, the gathering place for afternoon or evening discussions. Will spent his free time there writing in his notebook. He was always at the heart of the debates. Jolie listened to the conversation from the sideline, observing. She tried to catch Will’s eye so they could talk but he was in a deep discussion on the politics of the Vietnam War.
Crazy Bob had served in Vietnam, and two of the men were draft dodgers. After burning their draft cards in anti-war protests in New York and San Francisco, they found themselves at the ranch. The isolation proved to be a perfect safe haven.
Crazy Bob rolled another Bugler cigarette and passed the tin around. “We shouldn’t be supporting the South Vietnamese regime, let alone sending U.S. soldiers to fight. They brutalize their own people.”
“Think about all of the useless deaths in the fight against communism,” Will added.
“No, it’s more about the messed up U.S. imperialist policies,” Mark disagreed.
“No, this war is against the communist aggressor,” Will argued.
Jolie frowned, uncomfortable with their constant friction. Did it really matter, when people were dying? Her brothers could get drafted. Her older brother could be sent there at anytime.
“They lied to us,” Crazy Bob said. “Nixon said he he’d put an honorable end to our involvement but we have more troops there now than ever, over a half a million. Our government has no idea what is going on there. They have absolutely no idea.”
Jolie studied Crazy Bob. His American flag bandana was tied askew around his forehead. Did he get his nickname in Vietnam? “What was it like there?” Jolie asked.
“She talks,” Sky said.
Heat rose to her face. It was true. While she listened to the discussions she didn’t speak much. Usually no one could get a word in with Will and Mark dominating the debates.
Crazy Bob ignored Sky and met her eyes. “I don’t like to talk about it. It’s still too raw.”
She could see a flint of pain in his sad dropping eyes.
The group slowly disbanded. Jolie and Will walked back to their cabin.
“What’s our plan?” Jolie said.
“What do you mean?”
They paused at the cabin door. It was too hot to go inside, and so they sat in front of the ramshackle cabin on a fallen log. “You know, our plan for us and our life?”
Will looked around and spread his hands. “We’re here. At the ranch.”
She looked around. “This isn’t the life I expected.”
“You’re learning things aren’t you? And you’re with me.” He put his arm around her.
She was with him. That had been what she wanted, but she wanted him all to herself. She’d envisioned their own sma
ll house somewhere. Will would get a job, and she’d plant a garden.
“Everyone else thinks this is utopia,” Will said.
She looked into his eyes. Utopia? Was he serious? This primitive ranch at the end of a road where the women did most of the work was not her utopia. She couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “Maybe for you it’s utopia.”
His arm dropped from her shoulder and she sensed his mood change. He stood and picked up his notebook. “I’ll be back later.”
Her chest tightened. Had she hurt him? As he walked away, tears stung her eyes. Was this it? Was this going to be their life? She took in the forest around her and the ever-lengthening shadows. Feeling small and alone, she sank into a deeper, even quieter self.
Jasmine and Jolie met in the main house the next morning to make blackberry muffins. Jasmine showed her around the pantry. Jolie had never seen such large quantities of food; boxes of dried milk, sixty pounds of honey, one hundred pound sacks of rice, dried beans, and wheat, all stored in big tins to keep out the mice. Jasmine stoked the wood stove with one hand and wiped sweat from her brow with the other.
“It must be a hundred degrees in here,” Jolie said. “Don’t you like the summer kitchen better?”
“Yes, but there’s gravity fed water here from the stream. Plus there aren’t as many insects. It’s a trade-off.”
Grace strode down the stairs. “Life’s a trade-off.”
“You’re up early. Another one bites the dust?” Jasmine asked.
Grace was single and flirted with all of the men. Her relationships lasted about two weeks before she got bored.
“I told him he had to bathe before I’d sleep with him again, and he laughed at me. I think I’ll try the single life for a while,” Grace said.
“We’ll see how long that lasts,” Jasmine said.
Jolie laughed.
“No, really. I’m going to wait for the right man to arrive. Someone as smart and handsome as Will.”