Willow Wood Road: Lavender and Sage

by Micah Sherwood

  But this night, Greg’s final few hours at home, needed to be enchanted. There was laughter and teasing, hugging and kissing. At the end of the gathering, as the couple was getting ready to leave, the party atmosphere quickly changed to sorrow and loss. Momma cried. Isabella wept. Poppi went to the garden to be with himself. And Micah absorbed their every emotion.

  “Hey Monkey, come with me.” Micah followed his brother downstairs to his room, where Greg tossed him a box wrapped in colorful paper. “I won’t be here for your birthday so I got you this early.”

  Micah tore off the paper, and it was a pair of boxing gloves. “Thanks, I wasn’t expecting anything. You didn’t need to,” and he grabbed his brother and finally cried himself. “Be careful.”

  “I knew these were the ones you wanted,” he petted his little brother’s head, fighting back his own sorrow. Greg was leaving the two people that he loved the most, his wife and his little brother. “Isabella will take you and the boys to boxing lessons.” Greg paused for a moment to get his composure back. “Write me. I’ll bring you something from overseas.”

  Then he stepped back. “You need to watch Isabella for me.” Micah looked up at Greg, and he picked up on the young sailor’s helplessness. They returned to the kitchen, and the man and wife left.

  Micah returned to the barn after his brother’s departure, but he couldn’t stay alone. So he went into the house to be with Mr. Dorsey. The old man was at his desk reading some legal papers, never noticing the boy siting in a chair across the room, who watched him read, saw his fingers tap the desktop as he studied some documents. He was skillful at everything he pursued and captivated by the work he chose. The boy wanted to be like him. After several minutes, he quietly left the house.

  He ran like a madman into the prairie as his other-self surfaced. Micah was cognizant of a darkness that lay silently hibernating deep within his psyche. Every now and then it would awaken and Micah would free his body for him to use. “Insane,” he thought of himself at one time then recognized that the other-self was an integral element which made him whole, just like Cory complimented and made him complete. The black lady at the hospital confirmed what he had believed. The other-self was a piece of him that wanted expression, and Micah gave him that opportunity.

  “People differentiate between the light and the dark; one is good and the other evil. But in reality, both are required for completeness.” Micah wrote that in his notebook, but he wasn’t sure he believed it; yet this thought surged within his consciousness as he darted through the night air.

  He ran along the creek. The last couple of weeks had been unusually foggy, and even now the misty air rose over the stagnant pools of water that lay at the bottom of the arroyo. Micah passed the flint hill without stopping; he wandered within the gray void of his mind. He detected the coyote pack join him as he flew toward the playa. The crescent moon danced in and out of the vapors as it drifted above the mesquite. The temperature hovered in the forties as he arrived at the dry lake bed. Its clay surface was mildly tacky from the damp air.

  Micah tossed his clothing aside then loped skyclad to the middle of the roundish lakebed. His euphoria was deep and glorious, and he ran in spirals, stopping to raise his hands in adoration of something vague but powerful; ancient Elders that he worshipped every moment of every day and night completely, innocently, consciously.

  “My life is your life.” He hollered in the dark wilderness, head flung back in ecstasy.

  The coyotes ran with him, stopping when he stopped; starting when he took-off. Then he howled an ethereal holler toward the night sky followed by the cries of the coyote chorus. And in the distance, the Shadow Choir joined the vibrant refrain. Micah laughed as his maroon eyes blazed in the darkness while twirling with one hand stretched toward the firmament and the other reaching for the earth. He swirled left and the coyote family circled him right. Just beyond the ring of coyotes, the fog began to coalesce into multiple funnels that grew into twisters buzzing with speed, and they orbited the boy who stood dancing in the center of the open sanctuary, a Davidic jig[1] within sacred space and time.

  In the grasslands adjacent to the playa, black ill-defined and semi-sentient creatures observed and nourished on the ceremony. Their senses were glued on the gyrating boy whose spinning copied the whirlwinds revolving around him. They could see the world through his eyes, and the boy seemed to be one of them yet much more. The creatures were drawn to him, and though they wanted to, they were unable to approach; too many energies surrounded the youth. So they kept their distance and watched. And Micah was aware of the murky mysterious blobs that spied upon him and his arcane rite, and he laughed at their absurdity.

  Stopping, Micah took a deep breath. The air was fragrant and pure. The cold on his flesh was energizing. The other-self returned to the silence and the boy greeted the coyote family. He dressed and returned home encircled by his canine protectors, fully awake and aware and invigorated. Back at the barn, he jumped into bed and slept the few hours remaining until breakfast time, work and school.

  As Micah walked into first period the next morning, Mrs. Stein asked him to go to the principal’s office at the start of recess. He sighed and took his seat. After second period, we moseyed to the office where Mrs. Stein was waiting with Mr. Malvern.

  “Micah, Mrs. Stein and I have worked it out so that you can go to the Junior High and meet the Algebra teacher and then have lunch with some students that will be in your classes next year.” Mr. Malvern seemed pleased with himself.

  “You mean ‘could be’ in my classes next year, right?” Micah questioned the principal.

  “Of course, sorry for the slip, but we better get going,” and Mr. Malvern hurried the boy to his car. They drove the two miles to the decrepit Junior High. It was a yellow brick building built around 1920 on the side of a small hill, and it had two gigantic ramps stretching a quarter of a block rather than stairs. (Micah envisioned skating down those monster slopes and crashing through the double doors into the cafeteria).

  The group walked into the office, which was in the very center of the building. A very large man greeted them. Mr. Symington was the principal. The psychologist, Mr. Rathbone, was also present.

  “I’ve heard quite a bit about you young man,” Mr. Symington shook Micah’s hand. “Mr. Malvern and Mr. Rathbone filled me in on the situation. So you are here to see if the teachers and facilities are acceptable.”

  Micah looked a little surprised at the chubby man’s words. “I don’t think so,” he spoke indifferently. “A few minutes talking to a teacher or looking at the school building will not tell me anything. I’m more concerned about the students. I won’t have anything in common with them. He was quiet for a few moments. “And if I jump to ninth grade now, what happens the following year?”

  “We don’t have answers to everything,” Mr. Rathbone spoke up. “We just want you to look around, ask some questions and meet a few students. You’ll see that some of your worries are groundless. You will sit in on the Algebra class taught by Mrs. Stein’s husband and then have lunch in the cafeteria with a couple of 8th Grade boys who would be your classmates next year.”

  The psychologist led Micah out of the office and directly across the hall to a classroom. As the two stepped into the room, the teacher stopped his lesson.

  Mr. Stein was a tall and thin man, not unpleasant looking. He looked at Micah. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like you to meet Micah Sherwood. He attends Tierra Verde. Son, please take any open seat.”

  Micah took the one closest to him. As he sat, hands rose, and he was sure that there was going to be a question and answer session.

  “Why is he here?” a big and brawny boy stood as he asked the question.”

  The teacher looked at Micah, who rose to answer the query. “The principal wants to skip me some grades. I am here to see the building and meet Mr. Stein and some students.”

  Another boy stood. “You in 5th Grade?”

  “4th,” Micah responded.<
br />
  The same boy spoke again, “You a genius or something?”

  Micah smiled as he replied, “The word, genius, is a little subjective. I am good at some things and not so much in others.”

  The students gave a little laugh when Mr. Stein interrupted, “Let’s finish our lesson.” And he continued a discussion of exponents. After about 20 minutes, he told the class to take out paper for a pop test. He walked back to Micah and gave him paper and pencil so he could also take the exam.

  He moved a chart, and on the blackboard were five questions. “Answer these questions. You have 10 minutes to complete the quiz. This exam counts as three points on your six weeks test grade. Commence.”

  1. Evaluate -5(-3)y where y = 3. Micah looked at the simple equation, grinned and wrote down the answer:

  -5(-3)y is the same as-5(-3)3 which is the same as -5(-3 x -3 x -3) = 135.

  He thought that if this is what junior high Algebra was like, he might as well go to high school now.

  2. Simplify 32 X 311.

  To simplify you must add the exponents, thus the answer = 313.

  3. Simplify (3x y2)2 (x2 y)3

  Exponents within parenthesis are multiplied by exponents outside of the parenthesis. Then you can multiply the two parts of the equation.

  Step 1: (3x y2)2 (x2 y)3 becomes (9x2 y4)(x6 y3)

  Step 2: The answer is: 9x8 y7

  4. Solve for y: 63 X 62 X 66 = 6y

  Add the exponents: 611 = 6y

  ANSWER: y = 11

  5. Simplify (4x y3)2 (x y)3

  Step 1: Multiply exponents outside of parenthesis with numbers inside:

  (16x2 y6) (x3 y3)

  Step 2: The answer is: 16x5 y9

  Micah finished and looked around at the 9th Graders taking the quiz. Physically they were not much bigger than he was, but his age would make him a social outcast, and that would be awkward and untenable.

  “Stop!” The teacher called out, and everyone ceased writing. “Trade your papers with the student behind you for grading.”

  Micah passed his paper to a girl whom he recognized from his neighborhood. She lived three doors south of his house on Willow Wood. Her name was Lindy Saari. She was very pretty, long blond hair and soft blue eyes. He had spoken to her several times as he rode Nellie around the neighborhood.

  “You grade your own papers?” Micah asked.

  “Sometimes, but I don’t like it. It’s embarrassing for your friends to know when you mess up,” her voice was very gentle and sweet.

  Micah turned around, and the teacher went through each question and showed in detail the proper steps in answering the questions. Mr. Stein collected the papers except for Micah’s quiz. Then the bell rang.

  “Stay here and somebody will collect you for lunch. Let’s see how you did.” He studied Micah’s work. “You know you probably did better than 98% of the class. My wife said that you were studying Algebra with your brother. It’s tough to learn something second hand. That says a lot about your capabilities.”

  The teacher looked at the boy for an instant. “You really don’t want to come here, do you?”

  “It’d be weird.” Micah spoke honestly. “I would be leaving all of my friends. Who could I hang with? Could I play football or track? Or even PE? Imagine me showering with a bunch of 9th graders—talk about uncomfortable.” Mr. Stein laughed causing Micah to grin.

  At that point, Mr. Symington came into the room with three boys. “This is David, Gordon and Paul. They will be 9th Graders next year. They’ll have lunch with you. When you finish, come to my office and Mr. Malvern and Mrs. Stein will take you back to Tierra Verde.

  They walked down the long ramp to the cafeteria. They stood in line with a hundred other kids, all of them looking at him and wondering what he was doing there.

  “Mr. Symington said that you would be coming here next Fall.” David finally spoke up. “How old are you?”

  “I’m 10,” Micah responded. “But I’ll be 11 in May.”

  The three boys grinned. “Don’t you think it’d be a little funny to be an 11 year old in a class with kids a lot older than you?”

  “I think it would be terrible. Everyone keeps hounding me about skipping grades. Coming today was not my idea; they sort of sprung it on me. I wish they’d just leave me alone.” Micah sort of exploded at David, who chuckled.

  “You get hot pretty easily, don’t you?” David asked.

  “Yeah, I guess.” Micah smiled.

  “You’re like a little bantam rooster with big spurs and ready to go after the biggest bird in the chicken coop.” David laughed, and Micah joined him.

  They got their meals and sat at a table. After a couple of moments, Lindy Saari came by and sat next to him. David, Paul and Gordon’s eyes got big as she took her seat.

  “So you’re skipping some grades. I didn’t know you’re so smart. Hurry and I’ll show you around the school.” Lindy smiled at Micah.

  Micah looked at the other three boys, and he could almost see the drool flowing from their mouths. “Let’s go, I’m not hungry,” and he went with his neighborly female acquaintance.

  As he walked out of the cafeteria, he saw Mr. Malvern standing with Mr. and Mrs. Stein watching him. They seemed a little surprised at the turn of events, and Micah smiled and waved. Lindy took him out through a side door and into a large grassy area next to a football field. They walked and talked for a while, and then sat on the steps of a sidewalk. Lindy filled him in on the goods and the bads of the school. He looked across the busy area where kids were mostly standing in clusters. He saw a group in western clothes and boots; they also had Mohawks, which made him grin. “Who are they?”

  “Those are the cowboys,” she responded and grabbed his hand and led him in their direction. “Jimmy John, this is Micah. He’s from Tierra Verde and might be coming here next semester. He’s a horseman.”

  The boy eyed him closely, and then stuck out his hand for a shake. “Glad to meet you. You’re Micah Sherwood?”

  Micah smiled, surprised that the stranger knew who he was. “Yup, I live at the Dorsey ranch.”

  “Dane mentioned you. Said Dorsey is your grandfather or something. Tell me about your horse.” Jimmy had a blank face.

  “Styx is a Black quarter horse. He’s 14 and 3 hands.” Micah smiled proudly.

  “Sticks like in a wooden stick?” Jimmy asked.

  “No, Styx like in the river to hell,” Micah sensed that this was some kind of test. He responded and saw acceptance on the older boy’s face.”

  “Dane says a lot of good things about you. He’s my cousin. This is Tom Martin, and Charlie Weems, and this is Derrick Marlowe.” Jimmy was cut off by the yell of Mr. Malvern.

  “I gotta go; happy to meet you. Maybe we can ride together sometime,” and Micah jogged to the principal for the trip back to Tierra Verde.

  Micah ran to PE as soon as they arrived at school. He looked around for the gang, and they were standing in the new baseball field. Mr. Terry was not around, and the boys congregated at home base. The PE teacher had returned to his old habits and disappeared after taking roll, leaving the boys to do whatever they wanted. Micah filled them in on the trip to the Junior High, especially about Lindy.

  “You’re too young for a filly,” Tandy spoke up.

  “You’re never too young,” Micah shot back. “Obviously I have what fillies want. Can’t help it; it’s all in the genes.”

  “And you better keep ‘it’ in the jeans!” Cory’s eyes laughed at the double entendre, and the group of boys cackled.

  After school, none of the boys followed him to the barn, so he was riding alone, the first time since he returned from the hospital. He led Styx out of the corral and ran him along the creek to the playa. There he circled and headed back, but left the prairie at the pipeline and cantered the horse toward Willow Wood. As he approached his home, he saw Lindy talking with her brother in their front yard. He rode over. As he approached, Lindy turned her head and smiled.

  Lindy wa
s a tad taller than Micah, but that made no difference to the boy. He was a little smitten with her. She smelled of lilac, and her blond hair glistened in the sunshine. Other than Isabella, he had never been enamored with a girl before.

  “He’s a beautiful horse. Can I sit on him?” She asked.

  He reached down and helped her onto the horse’s back. She gripped her hands around Micah’s waist, who then clicked his tongue and pulled the reins right giving the horse an order to go. “You want a long ride or a short ride?”

  “I think a long ride,” she responded.

  He passed Tandy, who gave him a thumbs up as the two rode toward the pipeline and then cross country to the old hospital. He stopped and helped her off of the horse. They walked around the dead lawn talking about brothers and horses. Lindy was three years older than Micah, which he hoped was close enough. After a while, they returned to Willow Wood and stopped at his home. As he dismounted, he saw Tandy watching and smiling from his yard across the street.

  She wanted to see the inside of his house, which he thought was an odd request, but he took her in. His mother and Isabella greeted them, both smiling as they watched Micah give Lindy a quick tour. He finished and walked her outside.

  “Why do you stay at the Dorsey place and not here?” The girl asked.

  Micah was not going into his personal history. “It’s convenient.” But there was something under the surface that she wasn’t asking, and this disturbed him.

  “This may sound a little strange, and you have to promise not to say anything to anybody.” She spoke with caution. “Do you see ghosts around your house? I do. I’m the only one that sees them. Sometimes they’re blurry, sometimes not. Sometimes they move very fast, sometimes they seem to be watching. I think maybe I’m crazy.”

  Micah felt the muscles in his abdomen grip as she spoke. “Oh God, you too? Yeah, I see them. I see a bunch of things and so does one of my friends.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t think they’re ghosts, at least not like you think. They’re impressions of something that happened in the past. They’re not aware. Ignore them. For some reason, the more you pay attention to them, the more you’ll see them, sort of like you’re feeding them.” Micah saw the girl’s relief.