Willow Wood Road: Lavender and Sage

by Micah Sherwood

  “Boom,” there was a loud crash from his old room.

  “Come-on,” Micah commanded, and they passed the bedroom, its door now closed, and out the garage to the Dorsey barn. The three other boys glimpsed Micah and JJ jog by, and they followed. Micah appeared stoic as he stowed his arrowheads on the dresser where they belonged.

  Cory watched his friend, touching the fear emanating from his soul. “What’s wrong?” He asked, and for the first time since December, Cory was worried for Micah.

  Micah removed his shirt and showed his wounds. He would not talk about it other than say, “See what happens when you continuously concentrate on the thing,” and he said no more but returned to his sleeping bag by the creek. He lay in the darkness without speaking. Micah tossed and turned, and finally stood up, “I can’t sleep. I’m gonna run.” Only Cory got up with him.

  It was warm, and the temperature hovered around 60° as they sped past the pipeline and cross country, not to the playa or the old hospital, but toward the open prairie. Their eyes were opened but they were not seeing. Soon the boys were joined by the coyote family.

  Micah sped up, going faster and faster while Cory kept even with him. They came to a barbed wire fence, but that did not slow them. The runners used a wooden post to help them cantilever over the rusty wires, running for over an hour, never stopping, not even slowing, driven. The clouds were thick, and a slow drizzle started falling. They arrived at a clearing. The mesquite circled a spot of soft prairie grass about 30’ in diameter. The air was fresh and fragrant.

  Micah went to the center of the circle and fell down in submission. It was coming back, the monster was coming back. His safe place, his barn, was no longer a benign hostel that protected him. His home had been assaulted; his belongings taken; he attacked.

  Cory understood. Distress was written across his face, an empathic response to Micah’s tortured soul. “Stop it,” Cory ordered. “You’re surrendering and you haven’t fought yet. If you quit, what will happen then? You’re doing what it wants.”

  Cory went and grabbed Micah; hugged him. “We can do this.” The ten year olds held one another and listened to the quiet. The clouds parted, permitting a slight twinkle of the gibbous moon to shine upon the land. The sweet smell of the Black Mother enfolded the boys. The pack of coyotes approached and lay near. And at the perimeter of the grassy ring, a dozen small vortices spun and danced and circled around the youths. Then Micah and Cory slept a wonderful and dreamless sleep upon the damp grass.

  When they awoke, Venus shimmered on the horizon, and the faintest hint of sunrise was visible over the hills to the east. They looked at one another, unsure how they came to be back at camp with their friends, who were still asleep. They collected their sleeping bags and walked along the horse path. Micah looked upward to the top of the hill, and Willow Wood stood framed by the glare of the rising sun. The yellows and pinks of the early day formed a halo around the house, which appeared gray-black as it sat in shadows yet to be lightened by morning glow. His fear was gone, and Micah ran to catch up with his brother and friend. They walked into the barn and greeted the horses and released Raggéd into the backyard. Both boys were ready for a new day.

  JJ led the way as the five horsemen wandered under the bridge and then trekked another mile and a half beyond the highway before reaching the circular meander of the creek. The temperature was rising toward 80° and sunny. They were camping out for the next two nights. Dane rode Jax and had a small donkey called Puckers tethered to his saddle.

  Jimmy John showed them the place for the best campsite. It was just above the gulch formed by the creek. The area was shaded by young cottonwoods, and the prairie grass was thick and soft. Toward the west, the eroded elevations of the Caprock Escarpment stretched on each side of the creek. The indigo skies extended forever without an interruption by a cloud. Eagles rode the updrafts above them, and the coyote family sheltered under the mesquite a quarter mile away.

  Micah tied Nellie to a tree branch and threw his tent before heading northward along the creek to collect firewood. This was just an excuse, he wanted to be alone. Perhaps half a mile away, he stopped and sat next to the arroyo, his feet hanging over the edge of the ravine, and he contemplated. He commenced his breathing exercise and concentrated on his heart beat. It was slow, steady and strong. He visualized the thumping organ, pumping blood out and in, and he could see the small scar from his operation. He commanded it to slow, and his heartbeat slackened to a fraction of its previous speed. “Increase!” And the heart took off like a wild drum solo.

  Micah placed a hand on each side of his sitting body and pushed himself off of the ground; only his fingertips rested upon the dirt. Then the boy sifted his figure to the left, and his whole body balanced upon a single hand almost floating on its own in the air. He straightened his legs, and his 5’6” frame stretched outward an arm’s length above the dust with a single hand centered underneath supporting his weight. Micah sensed his strength—no pain, only power—then he returned to a sitting position. He liked the feel of his muscles, his exertion.

  He got up from his meditation and started collecting, and there was an abundance of wood. With loads of spindly kindling on his back, he returned to camp. Under the trees, the tents were up and a fire pit dug. Micah threw the wood down. His friends were nowhere about, but he heard their laughter downstream and he went searching.

  He found clothes strewn about, boots tossed aside, cowboy hats stationed side-by-side on a sandstone ledge, and a gaggle of naked boys splashing around in the muddy creek. Micah smiled, threw his clothes on the pile with the others, and jumped into the turbid water. And they played and splashed; touched and tagged until the wind started to chill, and they retreated to sit under the sun to dry off on their sleeping bags.

  They talked about important boy things: horses, baseball, running, and girls. Well, the subject of girls was JJ’s contribution; otherwise it never would have come up between the ten year olds. Micah and Cory were just entering pubescence, while Tandy and Dane had no interest other than to tease Micah about Lindy and Cory on his infatuation with Isabella.

  “What do you know about Lindy?” Micah asked the 14 year old.

  “She’s quiet and pretty and smart, a cheerleader. A lot of boys have offered her their St. Christopher, but she hasn’t accepted a single one.

  “St. Christopher, what does that mean,” Micah had never heard about this.

  JJ removed a pendant he wore around his neck, a silver medal with a green medallion in its center showing a man carrying a child on his back, and handed it to Micah. “When a guy asks a girl to go steady, and she says yes, she will wear his St. Christopher to show that she is committed.”

  “Even if neither of you are Catholic?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?

  “Nothing apparently,” Micah smiled as he held the medal. So I take it you have no girl?”

  “I’m in between at the moment,” JJ answered.

  Cory sat up. “That means he’s dating his right hand.”

  The boys laughed, and JJ jumped up, grabbed Cory around the neck, scoured his scalp until it burned and he yelled for mercy. After the dramatics, Micah tossed the medal back to Jimmy John, dressed and returned to camp to prepare the fire. Though he returned with a bunch of wood, it was narrow and would burn fast thus unlikely to last through the night. He grabbed his new hatchet and headed toward the cottonwoods, hoping to find some dead branches. He was followed by Cory and JJ (Dane and Tandy were asleep).

  The creek widened at this spot, and the tree canopy was thick even though the leaves were still in the budding phase. A series of terraces stepped down toward the slowly flowing water. A dead tree offered the boys an abundance of solid dry wood for their campfire. The hatchet was sort of useless, so the three boys jumped on a dead branch hoping to break some large pieces off to carry back to camp. They made several trips between the terraces and the wood pile.

  On their last trip, JJ motioned the boy
s over to a dark and damp area under some fallen willows. There was a bunch of mushrooms growing in the gloom. “Know what those are?” He asked.

  “Toadstools,” Cory replied.

  “They’re magic. They will take you to fairyland. See those over there; they’re poison. But these babies, the little stringy ones, are great.” JJ started collecting.

  Cory and Micah looked at one another, smiled and followed Jimmy John back to camp.

  “We need to make sure that the horses are secure and can’t get loose. They need to be fed and watered. Once we start tripping, we aren’t going to be good for anything. One of us can’t trip. Someone has to be alert in case of an emergency, like the fire getting out of control. Any volunteers?”

  Dane immediately spoke-up. “I already rode this horse, and it scared the hell out of me. So you guys have fun, and I’ll watch the animals and stoke the fire.

  “It will take over an hour for the ‘shrooms to take full effect. You may feel some stomach pain a little at first, but I never have.” JJ was quiet for a moment. “Now guys, if you’re afraid, don’t go tripping. I’m not forcing you; it’s okay if you don’t. We’re friends either way. This stuff is not addictive, but you shouldn’t do it very often.”

  “I read that the Original Peoples used this as a way to commune with the real world.” Micah looked around as the boys listened. “You need to remove all negative thoughts from your mind and think only about positive things. You can ask your animal guide to come and instruct you, or maybe the Elders will lead you to the place of Free-Spirits. But mainly stay open to the experience and don’t be afraid. It will lead you to where you need to go”

  “Real world?” JJ questioned.

  “What you see around you is an illusion.” Cory responded. “Reality is somewhere else. You can see it in your dreams. But this life and this body are imagination.”

  Dane and Tandy were shaking their heads in agreement with Cory. This was something Micah believed, but he couldn’t remember whether or not he had ever discussed it with his friends, but clearly it’s what they believed also.

  “Whatever you say,” JJ laughed. “All I know is that ‘shrooms can take you to wonderful places.

  As the sun began to set, JJ distributed the psychedelic fungus, which the boys ate with pemmican. After about an hour, Micah started feeling real buddy-buddy with everything, but then he totally withdrew into himself. He moved a hand in front of his face, and it left a fiery trail. He looked over toward Dane, and there were dozens of Danes stretching into the distance all doing the same thing; if one Dane scratched his butt, the other Danes scratched their butts. It was hilarious.

  Micah looked into the twinkling night, and the Milky Way started sliding along a whirlpool: spinning, gyrating, and submerging into the black center of the maelstrom, which roared with savagery. In the foreground stood Coyote upright on his back legs; his eyes were glowing emeralds, unblinking and piercing. Coyote turned without speaking and pointed into the darkness. The night vanished, replaced with a bright lavender sun close enough that he could see storms rage on its surface, erupting with gigantic flaming fingers into space. The creek and cottonwoods were replaced with quicksilver seas lapping at a golden shore. Above the sun’s northern hemisphere, the Morning Star blinked with a bright yellow glow; each time it twinkled, the yellow became more intense while emitting a sweet smell much like honey tasted.

  He stood and looked down at his body. He was skyclad, and his skin shimmered and sparkled like coppery glitter. He raised his arms and heard voices speaking, and he looked around and saw Cory and Tandy—also glittering, also standing with arms raised. The three of them formed a triangle, and in its center, the Black Mother whirled. The boys’ tawny flickers flared skyward and merged into a cyclonic cone that dropped upon the black Earth Goddess, Tellus. Spider lightning encircled her as it danced outward. Micah lay back down contented and watched the spectacle. Then he blinked, and it was morning.

  There was not much aftereffect from the ‘shrooms other than the feeling of bliss and harmony. Cory and Tandy also mentioned feeling “real smooth.” But JJ was quiet and aloof.

  “Man, I ain’t ever had a trip like that. I’ve never smelled colors before.” He lay back on his sleeping bag and stared into space.

  But the three other boys were already on-the-go. Micah grabbed Nellie and JJ’s horse and led them to the creek for a drink. The mud of the previous day had settled, and the water was flowing clear. Soon Tandy, Cory and Dean had their horses at the waterhole.

  “JJ wants to head home,” Dane said. “I don’t think he’s feeling too well.”

  “Okay, let’s pack up.” Micah retrieved an empty pemmican pouch and went to collect some mushrooms.

  “Why you doing that?” Cory was questioning.

  “I’m gonna try and raise some ‘shrooms at the creek below the barn—just an experiment.” Micah smiled.

  “Yeah, an experiment. Right.” Cory was shaking his head while Micah grinned.

  They were back at the ranch by mid-afternoon, Micah and Tandy walked into the kitchen after stowing their equipment and putting up the horses. Mr. Dorsey was at the sink and turned to look at the dirty boys.

  “I’m glad you’re back. We forgot about your tests at the hospital today. I was about to call and reschedule. Go cleanup and we’ll head to St. Anthony’s. Hurry-up. I’ll telephone and let them know we’re on our way.”

  “Aw f…!” But Micah was cut off before he could finish his derogatory.

  “Now!” Tom looked at the boy in a no nonsense way.

  Tandy left for home, and Micah went to shower and change.

  “Dr. Reeves is going to meet us at the ER. He said there was nothing to be concerned about. He just needed to see us,” Tom explained as they pulled onto Hillcrest Drive.

  Micah immediately became sullen. “A doctor does not interrupt his Easter Holiday without there being something wrong.” Micah looked at Tom.

  “What do you want me to say? I can only repeat what he said.”

  They walked into the ER, and the nurse showed the two into a windowless room. “Put this on young man,” the nurse handed him a robe. “I’ll be back for some blood in just a second, and then we’ll take you for the EKG. Dr. Reeves should be here after that.

  An hour later, Micah and Mr. Dorsey were back in the same sterile room waiting.

  The door opened and a smiling Dr. Reeves stepped in. Micah immediately studied the man and got no feeling of impending doom, so he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You got the kid all worried,” Tom said. “He’s expecting the worse.”

  “I’m sorry. There are a couple of things that popped out from your last tests, and I wanted to talk to you about them and felt that this was the best time. There are no big problems, just some little things.

  “Primarily, I wanted to talk about drug resistance. I spoke with Micah’s doctor in Dallas, and we need to change his antibiotics to stop any resistance that he may be developing. Since Micah has some sever drug allergies and intolerances, resistance can be a significant problem, and we need to minimize that potential. Here are some new prescriptions. Start taking them immediately. I need you to have blood work done weekly for a while, sorry, but we have to keep this problem in check.”

  The doctor strode over to the boy and looked at his bruised eye and stitches, shaking his head. “Fighting? Did the other boy fare better or worse than you?”

  “I won,” Micah smiled.

  Dr. Reeves looked at the old man, “The last time you were in my office, we discussed Micah’s growth rate and puberty. I took some blood, remember? Well, some of the tests came back and were very interesting. Micah has an elevated testosterone level, which may or may not be caused by his having an extra Y chromosome. I had his karyotype done and he has 47-XYY Syndrome. This occurs in 1 of every 1000 male births, so it is not really that rare. It would explain his height. There has been some studies done with some wild conclusions, but there really is no evidence that
the extra Y chromosome causes more aggressive or antisocial behavior. Neither does it seem to have an impact on IQ. But there could be some linkage between his epilepsy and the extra Y. Also, XYY seems to be related to low muscle mass, but Micah is well toned and muscular. There’s really not a whole lot known about the syndrome. It is just one of those things that makes Micah unique.”

  “I am exceptional in every way,” Micah smiled.

  “I know that’s what you think,” Tom looked with love at the boy.

  Micah faced the doctor. “I read that if a guy is very active, like a runner, that might also increase testosterone. Could that be the reason I have high testosterone and good muscle mass?”

  “Are you going to become a doctor?” Dr. Reeves smiled. “You’re right. Athletes who are engaged in rigorous training programs tend to have increased testosterone levels.”

  “Everything with the heart is okay?” Tom asked.

  “We couldn’t ask better, but I have to temper that with the need to control the infection.” Dr. Reeves looked a little somber. “You understand that this is something that Micah will carry with him all of his life. It will never disappear. We can keep it in a dormant state, but a thing as simple as dental work,” he looked at Micah, “or a cut above the eye could trigger an active phase. His allergies and intolerances make it more difficult. Any time it becomes active, it could lead to heart problems.” He looked at Micah. “You can never forget that.”

  “I won’t,” Micah smiled. “Are we finished?”

  “I am unless you have some more questions,” the doctor looked at Micah.

  “Nope, bye,” and the boy was off of the table and dressing.

  Tom looked over at Micah as he drove to the ranch. The boy was smiling. “What’s so amusing?”

  “I’m not sure. I just feel happy for no reason. Everything seems funny. Like the doctor and all of that stuff about chromosomes, as if it really mattered. How does that make a difference in my life? But he felt eager enough to come to the hospital on a Saturday just to talk about it. Or my running, it shouldn’t matter to anyone but me, but Coach Britt is really excited that I’m gonna race for him.” Micah was quiet for a little while. “It seems that people make things important that aren’t really that significant.”