Clover Blue

by Eldonna Edwards

Rain sewed her veil for the welcoming ceremony out of eleven pieces of fabric taken from one item of clothing belonging to each of us. Her white dress came from the thrift store. She still doesn’t like to be naked except when she’s showering, and even then, she hides behind a sheet. Goji says we’re clothing optional, which means we have a choice. I can’t imagine wearing sweaty clothes on hot days but at least October is comfortable. I put on my best white jeans but they’re not very white anymore.

  We’ve all tied ribbons on our upper arms made out of toilet paper carefully braided together to commemorate the day. Aura got hold of the extra roll—a precious item around here—and Moon has wrapped her completely in white. She runs around like a little mummy with trails of tissue wafting behind her. Harmony follows behind Aura, picking up scraps of attached squares and stashing them behind the outhouse until she can hide them better. Knowing Harmony she’ll try to get me to trade something she wants when we’re out of toilet paper. Knowing how much I hate using newspaper in the outhouse, I’ll pay her price.

  Jade and Coyote pound out a rhythm on conga drums as Goji leads a barefoot Rain to the center of the compound. It’s hard to believe it’s been two whole months since she showed up. She looks beautiful in her dress and the many-colored veil strips that dance around her face in the breeze. Goji bows to her before joining the rest of us, leaving Rain to stand alone under an arch made out of walking-willow branches. The tree is named for the way it throws up new shoots when the old one falls over. Harmony and I once counted a walking-willow that wandered a couple hundred feet with nearly twenty baby trees attached to each other.

  Rain has written her own vows, with help from the Olders. She turns to face us and says them from memory.

  “Dear Family. I promise to honor you, to love you, to respect you, and to cherish the here and now with you. I abandon my former life to start this new one with you. Thank you for welcoming me.”

  Goji steps forward and lifts the strip of fabric he donated. He kisses Rain softly on the lips and she blushes. The rest of us follow one at a time, each lifting our section until her whole face is revealed. When it’s my turn I kiss her on the cheek. She looks happy and relaxed, so different from the day she first showed up with Gaia. She’s still cleaner than the rest of us, but her skin is tanned now and her blond hair streaked with near-white strands from so much time outdoors. When I look into her bright eyes it feels like home. Gaia messes up sometimes but today I’m really thankful to her for bringing us our new sister.

  Wave rigged a tape player to speakers that hook up to Sirona’s car battery. We dance until after dark around a blazing fire, staying up long past our regular bedtimes. Most everyone except Rain has shed their clothes due to wild dancing and the heat of the flames. While Harmony takes a turn whirling around with Rain I head to the john. I’m sitting on the wood bench inside when I hear sticks snap and someone brush against the shack.

  “Almost done!”

  No answer. I finish up and shovel a pile of sawdust down the hole. When I open the door I expect to see one of the others waiting but there’s nobody there. The bushes rustle and a small light flicks on and off.

  I call out, “Hey, who’s out there?”

  Up ahead the light flashes again, and then two men stumble out from the trees. They start whooping and trying to dance with the women. I recognize them from that day at the Freestone store. One of the men grabs for Rain. She screams and everyone stops dancing. The huskier man points at the white cloth tied around Goji’s waist and chuckles.

  “Oh, look, it’s Jesus Christ himself.”

  The other one laughs. “Faggot Jesus!”

  The fat one makes two peace signs as they scan the bodies of the women. “Woo-hoo, look at all the titties on you bush bunnies!” He turns toward Rain. “How come you’re still dressed?” He tugs at her buttons, then teeters on his heels and stumbles, catching his balance with Rain’s arm. She jerks and fusses but he doesn’t let go. The men laugh, backing Rain toward the woods. One of them grabs at her crotch.

  I drop to my knees and crawl until I find a rock just the right size. Goji forbids violence but I think this is one of those possible exceptions to the guidelines.

  “Please,” Rain begs. “Please stop.” She bursts into tears. “I’m a virgin.”

  Wave takes a step forward. “Let her go!”

  “Why? So you can pop her cherry?” The smaller man glances between Wave’s legs. “With that little pecker?”

  Coyote cuts off the music and walks toward Rain. Goji holds his hand up to Coyote, keeping eye contact with the drunken men. “We’re peaceful.”

  Coyote ignores Goji and steps directly in front of the two men.

  The cowboy spits on the ground. “You got something to say, Sambo?”

  I curl my palm around the rock and stand, waiting for the right angle. I’m just about to let it fly when I hear a metal click and see light from the flames flicker on Coyote’s blade as it springs from the handle. He slowly waves the knife in front of them.

  “He told you to let her go.”

  The big one pulls Rain in front of him like a shield. In a flash, Coyote streaks forward and wheels around the townie, pressing the knife to the man’s ribs from behind. He jerks Rain away with his free hand. She runs to Sirona, who pulls her close, glaring at the men.

  “Geez, we were just havin’ some fun,” the smaller one says. “We weren’t really going to hurt her.”

  Coyote lets go of the man but he doesn’t put the knife away. “Take off your clothes.”

  The two men look at Coyote then at each other. The smaller one says, “Look, we’ll just leave.”

  Coyote jabs his blade at them again. “You can go after you give me your clothes.”

  They slowly remove their shirts and pants, stealing worried glances at Coyote and each other, before dropping them on the ground.

  Coyote lowers the knife to waist height. “Everything off.”

  They step out of their underwear.

  “The hat too.”

  The fat one tosses his hat on the ground. His head is mostly bald, with just a ring of thin hair from his ears to his neck.

  Coyote calmly waves his knife toward the gate. “Now get out of here.”

  The men run up the path toward the road, their white butts like uncooked biscuits in the moonlight.

  Coyote snaps his knife closed. Goji leans over the pile of clothes and picks up the hat. He dusts it off and holds it toward Coyote. “It’s a good hat.”

  Coyote pulls the hat over his growing dreadlocks. It looks much better on him than on the cowboy.

  The family slowly circles around Rain, wrapping her in a protective embrace. I run toward them. It’s not until I join in the family hug that I realize I’m still holding the rock.

  8

  During our drive to Sebastopol, Doobie asks Goji about putting a lock on the gate at the end of our private road. Everyone’s still feeling a little skittish about what happened at Rain’s welcoming ceremony last month, especially the women. Goji assured us it was just a couple of unenlightened beings with more alcohol in their system than common sense, but I wonder what would have happened if Coyote hadn’t threatened those men? What if they’d managed to drag one of the women into the woods? I’m all for peace and nonviolence but we need to protect the people we love.

  I’m sitting in the back of the station wagon between Doobie and Goji. Goji leans forward so he can see Doobie. “That is the opposite message we’re trying to send, brother. Saffron Freedom Community wouldn’t be free if it was imprisoned by a lock, would it?” He relaxes back in his seat and gazes out the window. “I’ll chat with the Czech about putting a sign on the gate to signal that it’s private property.”

  The reason they call our neighbor the Czech is because he’s from Czechoslovakia and nobody knows how to pronounce his name, Drahoslav. He owns the land around our leased twenty acres and runs a dairy farm. A single electric fence separates our property from his.

  Doobie
pulls the flaps of his wool hat down over his ears. The car heater broke last winter and we still haven’t fixed it.

  I tap Goji on the arm. “Maybe we could take a vote?”

  Willow watches for Goji’s reaction in the rearview mirror. I get the feeling she’d vote for the lock. He ignores Willow’s stare and points to an open parking spot in front of the co-op. “Look there, how’s that for serendipity?”

  Willow can’t parallel park and Goji knows it. The last time she tried it took four attempts back and forth before she finally gave up and parked a few blocks away at a church. She stops and gets out of the car, and Jade slides behind the steering wheel. It takes Jade only one try to slip into the spot. She joins Willow on the sidewalk and they head into the co-op, armed with canvas bags and a wicker basket.

  In front of the next store over, the sparkly hippie who calls herself Stardust sits behind a table with a dark blue velvet cape draped over her shoulders. Doobie opens his door and lets me out. “You go help your sisters. I’m going to talk with my friend over there,” he says, pointing toward Stardust.

  I wait for Goji. He doesn’t usually join us on these trips so I’m not sure why he came along. “I’ve got some private errands to run,” he says. “I’ll meet up with everyone back here in about half an hour.”

  Inside the co-op I find Jade scooping oats out of a huge bin into one of our canvas bags.

  “Blue, go get a five-pound sack of brown rice, would you?”

  I move to the next aisle. From over the shelves she adds, “And some sticks of raw cinnamon.”

  By the time we check out, every bag is full of food and the basket is overflowing with various supplies thanks to income from sales at our roadside stand and the hours the Olders volunteer here at the co-op. We load everything into the back compartment of the station wagon and slam the gate. Willow nudges Jade and smiles, pointing toward the table where Doobie is still chatting with the tarot card reader. Willow presses a hand into the back of my jacket. “Go retrieve our lovebird, will you?”

  I wander over and stand in front of the sign that reads, FORTUNES TOLD, PASTS REVEALED. I pretend to look at the trinkets and little statues hoping Doobie will get the hint. A tray with a dozen different gemstones catches my eye. I run my thumb over a glittery purple one that looks like a walnut on the outside. Stardust stops talking to Doobie and picks up the stone. “That’s an amethyst. Isn’t it pretty?”

  I nod.

  She holds out her hand. “I’ve seen you at Saffron Freedom Community but I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Stardust. And you are?”

  Her bracelets jangle when she shakes my hand. I can’t help but stare at the sparkly red jewel glued to the middle of her forehead.

  When I don’t respond right away Doobie answers for me. “This is my little brother, Clover Blue.”

  She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table as she studies my face. “Will you look at those eyes? You, young man, remind me of the Page of Cups.”

  I imagine a page filled with pictures of drinking cups. It doesn’t make sense.

  She holds up a card from the colorful deck in front of her. The picture shows a man wearing a Peter Pan outfit with a beret on his head and a goblet with a fish in it. He’s standing in front of the ocean. “See how fair and lovely he is? And blue eyes like you.”

  Doobie takes the card from her and studies it before handing it off to me. “What’s it mean?”

  “The Page of Cups is a sensitive dreamer. The fish is his inner voice, telling him to listen to the messages he receives.”

  I hand the card back to her.

  She winks at me. “Would you like your horoscope, Clover Blue?”

  Doobie grins. “Go ahead, brother. It’ll be fun.”

  Stardust fiddles with a chart on the table. “What’s your birth date?”

  I shrug.

  “Don’t be shy.”

  Goji says never to mention the day I was adopted so I give her one day after my re-birth date. “August thirteenth.”

  Stardust jerks her head up. Her painted eyebrows knit closer together. The red jewel on her forehead looks like it might fall off.

  “Did you say August thirteenth?”

  I glance at Doobie, whose smile disappears.

  Stardust studies her chart, then looks back at me. It’s the coldest November day we’ve had so far but I’m sweating under my light jacket. I’m relieved when she breaks out laughing.

  “Boy oh boy, I never would have guessed Leo. You seem more like a water or earth sign.” She thumbs through a book and flips to a page, holding her red-painted fingernail on the words. “Look here. Annie Oakley. Alfred Hitchcock. Fidel Castro. Dorothy Layton. Don Fucking Ho.” She closes the book. “Those people were all born on August thirteenth. You must have a strong Cancer moon or Virgo rising.”

  “What’s that mean?” I ask, surprised by my own voice. I’ve heard the sister-mothers talk about astrology before. All I know is it has to do with stars and planets affecting your personality and stuff.

  “Your sun sign is basically your ego. Your moon sign is your emotional self. Your ascending sign is how you present yourself to the world.”

  Doobie stares at Stardust, taking in every word. I can’t tell if he’s in love with her or if he’s high. Probably both. He picks up the book and fans through the pages without reading. “That’s far out, man.”

  Stardust sees me staring at the gemstone collection again. She reaches into a bag and pulls out a round rock. “Would you like one?”

  It’s an ugly rock but I don’t want to insult her. “That’s okay. I don’t have any money.”

  A mustached man wearing high-waisted bell bottom slacks and a shiny half-unbuttoned shirt walks out of the head shop and stands behind Stardust just as Doobie passes her a joint. She stuffs it into the crack between her boobs and grins. “Gotta love the barter system!”

  The man behind her reaches into the top of her dress and takes the joint, then tucks it into his own pocket. Stardust lets out a nervous giggle. The man looks Doobie up and down before heading back inside the store.

  Stardust hands me the boring rock. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but take it home and break it open with a hammer. If you’re lucky, you’ll find pretty crystals inside.”

  I fold my fingers over the rock. It feels heavier than I thought it would. “Thank you.”

  She winks and nods toward Doobie. “Thank your friend here. He’s the one who bought it for you.”

  Willow bounds up to us, tying a wool scarf around her long neck. “Come on, guys! It’s time to go. Goji’s back and Jade’s leaking milk all over the place.”

  Doobie holds up a finger. “Hang on one more minute. Stardust is about to give Blue his horoscope.”

  Willow shakes her head. “Aura is overdue for a feeding. We don’t have time.” She grabs my arm and pulls me toward the car.

  Stardust calls behind Willow as we scurry away. “Now that’s a Leo!”

  * * *

  Goji leans against the car holding a large manila envelope. When he sees us coming he slips several papers inside and climbs into the backseat. Jade sits up front, stuffing a towel inside her sweater. When we’re all in the car Willow drops the shifter into first gear and heads toward Bodega Highway. I scooch forward and tap her on the shoulder.

  “Hey, Willow, when’s your birthday?”

  She doesn’t answer. Doobie nudges me with his elbow. “Same as yours, buddy, August twelfth. She brought you home on her birthday.”

  Willow and Jade gasp. Goji jerks his head toward Doobie, who slaps his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, man. It slipped.”

  As if Goji can sense my next question, he pats my knee. “We’ll talk soon,” he says.

  Willow glances at me in the rearview mirror. When our eyes meet, she quickly looks away.

  9

  Goji and I usually meet for my learning session in the meadow behind the garden, away from any commotion of our homestead. Last month we s
tudied the poems of Thomas Merton, a Catholic monk who wrote about peace. Now I’m learning about a Persian guy named Shams Tabriz who was a teacher of the famous poet Rumi. Goji loves the Sufi poets but Rumi is one of his favorites.

  Goji is already waiting for me when I reach our meeting place after breakfast. He smiles when he sees me. “You have the Rumi book with you?”

  I hold out the book and sit facing him but I can’t get comfortable. I pull a sharp rock from under my rear and toss it aside. Goji rifles through the pages, glancing at my notes, nodding. “Very good, Clover Blue.” He hands the book back to me. “Read a passage that spoke to you.”

  Sometimes Goji reads but usually he has me choose. I’ve picked something that might lead to what I really want to talk about today.

  “I think this is my favorite: ‘Every midwife knows that only pain opens the way for birth. In the same way that scorching fire hardens clay, injury may lead to truth.’” He’s listening with his eyes closed. I pause to make sure he hears this last part. “‘For every seeker is forever changed. Thru quest, hardship leads to understanding. Beloved, breathe thru the pain. Your heart aches to bear fruit.’”

  Goji opens his eyes. “And what is Tabriz trying to teach us?”

  “He’s comparing the pain that women go through having a baby to how, if we’re patient during the hard parts, it will lead us to what we really want.”

  “Can you think of an example of how an injury could lead to truth?”

  “Well, when Harmony got bit by that snake, it made me realize how afraid I was of losing her. Maybe that was the reason it happened. So I could appreciate her more.” It’s a good answer, but not what I meant to say. I quickly add, “Or maybe it’s like the agony of waiting for you to tell me more about my first parents like you promised. Like it’s supposed to hurt a lot to make me ready for the truth?”

  I brace myself for his reaction but Goji doesn’t even flinch. “Tabriz is telling us here that suffering leads to understanding. Kind of like that uncomfortable rock you removed from beneath you.” He tilts his head toward one shoulder. “Agony? Are you suffering, Clover Blue?”