Willow Wood Road: Lavender and Sage

by Micah Sherwood

  “I don’t have a religion, so anything I use would be foreign to me. I’ll use this,” and Micah started browsing the book. “It’s backwards. The back of this book is the beginning of the scriptures.”

  “Bring it here,” Tom asked, and Micah handed it to him. “These squiggles are Arabic script, which is written right to left unlike English. All Semitic languages are written that way. That is the reason why books in Arabic are read in reverse when compared to English.”

  “You learn something new every day,” Cory jumped into the conversation. “Hurry up and pick something out, we gotta get to dinner.”

  Micah arbitrarily opened the book and picked the first verse he saw and read it out loud:

  “Al-Baqarah 116

  To God belongs the East and the West; wherever you turn, there will be the face of God. Surely, God is Bountiful and All-Knowing.”

  “That sounds pretty good. That’ll do,” and he commenced writing it down.

  Tom studied the boy. “What does that mean to you?”

  He thought for several moments. “I don’t know religion. I have no idea how scholars interpret this. For me, it says that God is a totality.”

  “That seems reasonable, but you need go deeper because the word, ‘totality,’ is somewhat subjective. It can have differing meanings.” Tom was playing a regular game he had with Micah that forced him to think and conceptualize. It also helped the old man better understand his thought processes and belief systems. Initially Micah hated this game, because he knew its purpose and he detested sharing thoughts which he considered private. But it also increased the bonds between the old rancher and the young boy. Tom had taken an interest in him to a degree no one else ever had.

  “God is unknowable and all encompassing, a totality. Everything that exists does so within All-That-Is. Anything that we can conceive, God exceeds. This verse infers that.”

  Micah fascinated the old man. Most of the time, he was a ten year old boy, but every now-and-then something would pop out of his mouth that would confirm all the IQ tests said about him.

  “Yeah, yeah, this is all very nice and boring, but it’s time for supper so let’s get going.” Cory grabbed the book from Micah and placed it back on the shelf. “Come on, momma’s making Stekte pølser.”

  Micah and Tom looked at one another. “What the hell is stakky policer?” Micah asked

  “It’s fried sausages with vegetables and gravy. It’s great, so let’s go.” Cory went out the door and to the car.

  “Since when do you speak Norwegian?” Micah was amazed at his friend’s newly revealed secret.

  “Since forever,” Cory responded. “You know my parents are Norwegian. Why should you be surprised that I speak it?” Just because I’m adopted doesn’t mean I shouldn’t speak norsk. I spoke Norwegian before I did English.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Oh yeah, and you don’t have secrets. It just never occurred to me,” Cory looked at his friend. Du er min venn, men ikke min pappa.”

  “Thank God!” Micah laughed.

  “You know what I said?”

  “I think you said that I’m not your daddy.” Micah smiled. “But I’m guessing.” He rubbed Cory’s Mohawk, “Und du bist mein Freund und mein Bruder.” Poppi taught me some German, and so did Sister Bernadette at the hospital, but I’m not fluent.”

  “We are brothers forever and a day,” Cory looked at Micah. “Evig og en dag.”

  Tom listened to the boys as he drove over to the Krigsman house. They always fascinated him, and each day that passed, he discovered more to be fascinated about.

  Supper was on the table, and Tom Dorsey handed a bottle of Barbera Wine to his host. “I always have Barbera Wine around. I was raised on this, and Cory said you were having sausages, so I figured this would go well with something like that.”

  Francis Krigsman filled the wine glasses including a half glass for each boy. “If you raise a child drinking wine at home, they are more likely not to have a problem with alcohol as an adult. I believe that America’s puritanical ways create a lot of complications. In many ways, Americans live in a fantasy world.”

  By this time, Cory was sniffing the sausages while Micah sat quietly next to him.

  “Cory, let’s take a seat and behave civilized,” his father beamed as he watched his son, and in his eyes you could tell how much he adored the boy.

  Mrs. Krigsman served the meal, and everyone started talking and eating. “Micah, how was your first day back at school?’

  “Good, we had a Christmas party. The 4th Grade waited for me to return to celebrate it. I got a switchblade as a gift.”

  “Springkniven,” she was thinking out loud, “You need to be careful with that. That is not a good present for a child.”

  “Yeah, that’s what daddy, I mean Mr. Dorsey said.” Micah turned red from his slip of the tongue.

  Cory listened and then jumped in to the conversation. “Why did they call you to the principal’s office in 2nd period?”

  Micah wanted to punch his friend. “They’re harping about skipping me some grades again. They offered to take me to the junior high in the afternoons so I could take 9th Grade Algebra, Earth Science and Spanish in 5th Grade.”

  “Sounds like a good deal,” Mr. Dorsey gave his opinion.

  “Sure, I take 9th Grade subjects in 5th Grade, so what do I do in 6th Grade? High school? I’d be a 12 year old boy in high school. Seems like everyone is plotting against me.”

  “I’m sure they are just looking after your interests,” Cory’s dad said. “With your intellect and drive, you have to be bored out of your mind.”

  “I’m not. I’m happy. People need to leave me alone.” Micah’s ire was rising.

  “I have never forced you to do anything; I always get your agreement first. Why would it change now? Mr. Malvern is giving you a choice. That is a good thing, and exactly what he said he would do when we reviewed your IQ results last fall. Stop giving yourself an ulcer.”

  “Sorry, I apologize,” Micah smiled at Cory.

  “We have some news for you. I think you will like this,” Francis Krigsman spoke to Micah. “At the end of May, we are going to Norway to visit our family in Oslo and Trondheim. We will be gone for two weeks. We would like you to come with us.”

  Micah’s eyes widened. “Why? That is very expensive. I would feel awkward around so many strangers speaking another language.”

  “You will be with Cory, and Norwegians are very welcoming. Cory has no cousins close to his age; they are either in their twenties or infants. You will keep him company, plus it would be an adventure, much hiking and camping along the fjords and in the mountains. We might drive into Sweden and Finland. So it will be quite exciting for you. Also, my brother works for the airlines, so travel will be inexpensive. You and Cory talk about it, but I do need to know by Friday so I can order the tickets.”

  “That’s okay, I’ll go if the doctor says I can,” Micah looked at Tom.

  “Unless something happens between now and then, Dr. Reeves said it would be good for you. Those pictures I had taken were for your Passport. I just have to draw up some papers giving Mr. and Mrs. Krigsman power of attorney while you’re in Europe.” Tom smiled at the boy.

  “Poppi agrees?”

  “Of course, you think I would let the Krigsman’s make the offer before I spoke to your father? I wouldn’t do that. In fact, your uncle Cecil may come to see you while you’re in Norway. He lives in Nuremburg, right?”

  Micah thought for a moment. “Actually he lives in Schweinfurt. He has a big house on the Main River.”

  “Ah, so everything looks good for an exciting trip,” Mr. Krigsman spoke up. “I am looking forward in showing you my homeland. When you boys are finished eating, clear the table while the adults go into the living room to chat.”

  “Clear the table is a code for ‘Get the hell out of the way because we have something important to talk about’,” Cory informed Micah as they started removing
the dishes. “I’ll go tell them that we’ll walk to the barn when we’re finished. I already have my rucksack ready.”

  The boys had the dishes in the sink, and then started walking through the nighttime prairie toward the creek and the barn. It was a much shorter distance going cross country to the Dorsey place than along the roads. They could walk it faster than the truck could drive it.

  The countryside was enfolded with a dense mist. “God, won’t this fog ever go away,” Micah was exasperated with everything at that moment. “You know what they’re talking about?”

  “You, I guess.” Cory was thinking out loud. “You’re a mystery to my parents. They can’t understand why you won’t let the school jump you some grades. Tom understands you, but mom and pop can’t grasp you. I think that’s why they like you. You’re different. Momma says that you are a free spirit. I think she loves that about you. But to pop, you are wasting a gift, and that bothers him.”

  “You’re as smart as I am; why aren’t they fighting to get you advanced?” Micah asked.

  “I’m not driven,” Cory grinned. “They know that. I make good grades, but I’m not going to do more than I need to. I am honest with myself. I am satisfied. But you are never happy. You are always pushing, setting goals that are impossible for most everyone to meet, but not for you. You can be maddening.”

  “It’s my insanity.”

  “And your insanity drives everyone crazy.” Cory ran across the old log to the other side of the creek where he was greeted by Haze. The boy stopped for a moment until the young coyote started pulling his pants leg and wanting to play. Cory ran and Haze chased him. He sat on the back steps and the canine rested with him.

  “This is Haze,” Micah took a spot next to them. “He left the pack. I wonder if that’s normal. He likes you. Take him home. I can’t keep him because of Raggéd.”

  “Haze, would you like to live with me? That’s a good name for you. I’ll have to figure out how to convince mom and pop to let you stay.” Cory was pleased. He had never owned a pet except for Drack, but a horse was not a dog. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.” And Haze licked the boy’s ear.

  After homework was complete, after an hour of running through the murky grasslands, the boys lay silently. Micah did not sleep, but neither was he awake. He was floating through the white place whose silver surfaces glowed with iridescence. In this rendition of the dreamscape, the floors were checkered with various shades of grays and blues. The walls stretched above him and disappeared into blackness. Small and dense clouds floated through the air close enough that the boy could touch them.

  Micah studied the contents of the bookcases and the relics lying in the open displays, surrounded by the scents of jasmine and roses. He was weightless as he traveled down aisle after aisle—without legs and arms—thought-without-form.

  Before him a door appeared dark and foreboding. It was black and striated with rusty reds that undulated within its surface. It was alive yet vibrated with death and disease. The portal opened as Micah approached. Behind him he heard a commotion, and he turned. A two headed snake coiled and twirled; one head breathed fire; the other’s tongue surged forward, trying to grab then impale him with its blood stained fangs. The wind picked up and sounded like the rumble of a locomotive. Then the reptile commenced slinking toward him, shaking the ground as it moved, and the boy stepped toward the door but did not want to enter. The serpent continued to encroach, and Micah either could be swallowed by the slithering hulk or walk through the portal. “It is a dream. It’s not real,” but he could not wake himself out of his nightmare. He stepped through the door, which immediately slammed shut.

  The jasmine and rose scents were replaced with the earthy fragrance of the stables, not his stables but a large rambling barn empty of all life. Gravity pulled on him with enormous power, and Micah struggled to move. He was in the body and no longer just intellect. He heard the thumping of his heart firing in a regular and rapid pattern. He started running into the blackness of the building which continued onward forever. Hands were surging at him, touching him, massaging him in an obscene way making the boy scream in revulsion. And he ran faster to escape.

  Micah looked behind him into the deepening obscurity; the black and red veined door was chasing him, gaining on him. He could hear it whisper, “What’s your name, buddy?”

  He screamed loudly and continuously. Blood flowed out of his mouth….

  Micah jerked awake.

  Cory was shaking him, “Wake up. You’re dreaming.” He saw his friend’s eyes open. “Jesus Christ, that must have been one hell of a nightmare. You were yelling and jumping and kicking. Whatever it was, you were doing your best to get away from it or kill it.

  Micah was disoriented only for a moment. He heard Cory speaking, and then got out of bed and dressed in yesterday’s clothes. It was a little early, but there was no chance of him going back to sleep. He started his chores, while Cory lay back down.

  Poppi was at breakfast that morning, and Micah greeted him with a hug. “I’m going to Norway this summer.”

  “I know, and Cecil may come to see you. Ain’t that exciting?” Bill studied his youngest son. “I got some news. I’m being transferred to Liberal, Kansas for a year. When school is out, your mom and Elaine will be coming up for the summer. Isabella will watch the house for us. You’re okay with that, aren’t you?”

  “No, that’s a long way. You’ll forget me.” Micah was upset.

  “Course I won’t forget you. I’ll be back to visit. You just won’t be able to see me when the mood strikes you.”

  “Okay, you have my permission,” then the boy hugged him again.

  With the chores complete, the boys had plenty of time to wander around the creek before school. Haze followed them. He was not like a wild coyote but seemed more domesticated than Raggéd.

  “Want to talk about your nightmare?” Cory queried his friend. “It must have been a whopper the way you were fighting.”

  Micah remained quiet, and then described the night terror in detail.

  “Disturbing.” Cory responded. “You need to tell Tom.”

  “It’s just a dream.” Micah picked up his notebook and ran toward the barbed wire fence at the school. Children were running and playing. Cory followed him into the building, to the principal’s office and the public address system.

  Cory had been selected to say the Pledge of Allegiance, and Micah would follow with the scriptural verse. When the bell sounded, Mr. Malvern stepped into the room and greeted the boys, then pulled some papers out containing the day’s announcements. After a few minutes, he started talking into the microphone. Then he signaled Cory for the recitation of the Pledge. After he was finished, Mr. Malvern motioned Cory to return to his classroom, and Micah stood up to read his scriptures.

  “Today I am reading ‘Al-Baqarah 116’,” he spoke without mentioning the Qur’an. It took only a moment to recite the verse, and then the principal motioned for Micah to take a seat.

  Malvern finished the announcements and then led Micah into his office. “So you are a Muslim?” He asked.

  “No,” Micah responded.

  “Then why did you read that verse?” The principal drilled the boy.

  “I like what it says.” Micah tensed up. “Do you have a problem with it? Does it say something inappropriate?”

  “What are you?” The man continued.

  “I am a wanderer, neither this nor that, is or was. I Am.” the boy smiled.

  “That’s nonsensical,” Malvern’s eyes were questioning.

  “Really, did you know that the word, ‘Hebrew,’ originally meant nomad or wanderer? Religion is mostly nonsense. I once read a story about a man named Al-Hallaj. One day he ran through the town yelling that he was ‘The Truth,’ which is another name for God. The people of the town, who considered themselves good Muslims, imprisoned him for many years for blasphemy. He was eventually tortured and crucified. As he was dying, he forgave his tormentors. The people who m
urdered him never considered what he meant.”

  “Ignorance kills.”

  Micah looked directly at the principal as he spoke. “Don’t you think it’s our responsibility to enlighten rather than separate? I don’t see how people could take exception to the meaning of the verse, and it would be arrogance if they take exception to it because of its source.”

  Mr. Malvern’s face became calm. “No Micah, I’m not being arrogant. So what did this Al-Hallaj mean?”

  “That he sees God in himself, that he and God are inseparable—a unity.” Micah waited for a response.

  “Go to class and close the door on your way out.”

  Chapter 5: Isabella

  Micah sat thinking. It was past midnight and he could hear the horses whinny every now-and-then. Raggéd slept next to his desk. He grabbed one of his notebooks, the dream book, rereading the narrative of his nightmare of the two-headed snake; it was frightening, painful. He closed the binder and showered, and then lay in bed pondering and trying to discern meaning from the awful nigh terror. And he slept.

  The next day, March 31, was the day Greg was leaving, flying to the Philippines and his ship at Subic Bay. Micah would go to Willow Wood for a good-bye dinner; and after the meal, Greg and Isabella would spend a final night together alone.

  Isabella cried off-and-on following the marriage. Her pain was almost crippling, and Micah could barely stay in the same room with her. Within a month, she had learned that she was pregnant, gotten married, kicked out by her family, and her husband was leaving to go to war. She fell into a deep depression, and in her misery, she hurt herself deliberately and badly. Greg found then rushed her to the hospital. The doctor said that this was a ‘scream for attention’ and not a real suicide attempt. Greg thought the doctor was a hack.

  The Sherwood family pulled around Isabella to help and protect her; but in the end, she disengaged from the pain and learned to cope with the situation. At least that is what she said and displayed. But Micah knew differently; her eyes and her flicker said something else, and he struggled trying to figure out what he could do to help.