Willow Wood Road: Lavender and Sage
Page 22
“I thought you said there were eyes. I don’t see any eyes.”
“They’re not always there. Give it time,” Cory spoke just as Micah moved closer to the reflective surface.
At the lower left corner, something scampered within the mirrored glass. It was shaped like a cockroach half the size of Micah’s fist, but it was green-white, the color of a Coke bottle and florescent. It had antennae that moved in a frenzied way. And then a smaller one ran across the top of the mirror, and it was followed by a half-dozen more.
“Well fuck a duck.” Micah never expected to see a bunch of scurrying bugs. “They just stay in the mirror and never come out?”
“Never,” Cory emphasized. “See if you can scare one.”
Micah put a finger in front of the smallest creature. It paid no attention as if it was unable to see. “Umm,” he mumbled.
“What?” Cory asked. “What you thinking?”
“Maybe it’s another dimension.” He took a finger and pushed hard on the glass.
Cory grinned. “What? You think it’s similar to Alice’s adventure in Through the Looking-Glass or something? You have a good imagination.”
“Well Jeeze, you have green cockroaches inside your mirror. Is that imagination? Don’t you wonder what they are? Where they come from?”
“Do you wonder where your Spider Monkeys come from?” Cory shot back.
“Certainly!” Micah said. “You think that your bugs and my monkeys are the same?”
“I don’t know. You mean from the same place?” Cory was looking deep within his best friend. “You think that they’re some kind of anomaly.”
“Wow, Cory’s learned another big word.”
“Shut the fuck up you dick,” Cory grinned.
“Unexplainable.” Micah continued. “Try to read them. You can’t because I tried. It’s like they don’t exist, like you’re watching television. But the spider monkeys are physical. They think and are smart and alert. They’re similar to the blobs.”
“You’re saying that the spider monkeys are pieces of us too?”
“No. They are sentient, but they were never human or alive.”
“Can’t they hurt you? You said they could.”
“They can, but it’s not likely. They like to investigate. If they hurt you, it’s probably accidental.” Micah stopped for a moment. He did not want to continue this conversation but wanted to flee from his best friend’s room, to run home and hide. But he wasn’t a coward.
“The others, the shadow men, they are conscious and aware. They have no love or hate. They are bound to the land just like the red-eyed blobs only more so. They seem to step between worlds; that’s why you don’t see them often. Maybe there’s a portal in the ‘hole’ and they can’t travel far from it. They are very old, old as the world.”
Cory looked a little confused. “We can’t absorb them?”
“Probably, but you don’t want to. They are dangerous. They want us. Most folks only sense them; they get a feeling of unease and that something is not quite right. I hate this word, but they are demonic. I think that is what a Christian would say. They are selfish, super hedonists if that’s logical. Since they are attuned only to themselves, they cause harm and discord purposefully to experience the reaction, to consume the angst. They look at us more as playthings rather than an intelligence, sort of how we look at ants.”
“There’s a lot that I don’t know. I’m afraid to go deep with them because they might get attached. And that would be very bad. I think it has happened to me a couple of times already, attachment. It was scary and magnificent. I was aware of it. I enjoyed it. That was the creepy part, the enjoyment. I felt its power and intellect, and it was both wonderful and awful. Maybe I have a permanent attachment already, because I feel it occasionally. I’m sensing it now. It’s like a hunger that needs to be sated immediately. Sometimes I feel that it’s more in control than I am. I have seen its thoughts, spoke with its words.” Micah’s eyes changed, his whites fading and becoming like mercury. “The power feels so good, indescribable. I want to quit fighting it, let it take over completely. I wonder how that would feel. Maybe godlike. It’s a battle to resist it.” Micah took a deep breath and he returned to normalcy.
Cory loved Micah, but he had known that more than one actor shared his body, and it wasn’t just the red-eyed blob he perceived. “Remember last December when you asked me to read you, to go deep, and to help you get well. I told you that there were many ‘selves’ inside. You are always open and things continually slip in and out. You’re like a chameleon. You absorb the characteristics of those around you. But there is a singular darkness inside you; you know that and everyone who loves you also know it but can’t fully grasp it. You manage it. You‘ve never let it get full control, but you’re terrified that it might get loose and you wouldn’t be able to handle it, that you could hurt someone or yourself.”
“The Black Mother knows,” he continued. “You’re her special case. And your friends allow you to use our presence to fight it. It’s not just because we love you, but anything really bad that happens to you will have an effect on us too. Mother was not jesting when she said that we share a soul. We are linked eternally.”
Cory had gone deep now with Micah, and it had an effect on him. He felt an electrical buzz drift through his forehead and fingers. He started sweating as he fell to the floor and lay in a fetal position. Micah recognized a seizure, and he held Cory’s head on his lap patting it with his hand as his friend quivered from the nausea and pain. He was sweating profusely, but his skin was cold. He knew that Cory was cognizant, and that he was aware of everything going on around him. That was one of the quirks the boys shared; they both had petit mal epilepsy, even their symptoms were the same.
After five minutes, Cory opened his eyes. His breathing became regular and the sweating stopped. “I’m okay,” he said, which caused Micah to smile, and he help him into bed. Cory fell asleep immediately. Micah watched him for a long time crying, because truths are often painful, and their dialogue had been agonizing for both of them. That’s what prompted Cory’s seizure, the energy drain.
Micah looked at himself in the mirror the next morning, eyeing the borrowed suit. “I don’t know why I have to go to Mass. I have chores to do. I want to ride Styx. I’m not going!”
“Bucky,” Cory turned around and faced his friend, “stop bitching. You sound like your baby sister. Just put on the fucking tie and let’s go.”
He stared at Cory and chuckled. “You’ve gotten pretty bossy. Keep it up and I’ll have to bring you down a notch or two.” Micah punched him and then they went for breakfast.
The two boys sat together. Micah stared at the platters of food that Mrs. Krigsman served. “What is it?” He recognized the thinly sliced hardboiled eggs, but the orange meat underneath was something strange.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the mother said. “That is røkt laks, smoked salmon.” The other platter was covered with sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, pickles and sweet peppers with daubs of plain yogurt.
Cory laughed at Micah’s expression.
Francis Krigsman served the fish and eggs, giving Micah a sizeable portion. “You can serve yourself with the vegetables,” the father smiled as he spoke to Micah.
“Thanks,” and Micah started eating, grabbing a piece of black bread.
After the meal, the boys cleared the table and went to the car.
“Ever been to Mass?” Mrs. Krigsman asked.
“Never, and I’m not real sure what’s involved.”
“Well, you’ll find out soon. We don’t go often, we are not too religious. But sometimes the atmosphere feels good. Just follow Cory’s lead. We are going back to St. John’s. Did I mention that we teach there?”
“I think so,” Micah answered. It’s a big school from its appearance. What do you teach?”
“It has all grades. Francis teaches high school science and I teach algebra, geometry and trigonometry.”
“Why doesn’t Cory go there?”
They pulled up in front of the chapel. As they got out of the car, Micah saw the Derochers and waved. Guy and Kevin came to greet him.
“Hey Monkey,” Kevin smiled as he slapped Micah on the back, who grimaced at the moniker. You’re coming to church? That’s strange. I’ve never seen you here.”
Micah shrugged his shoulders while they turned toward the Krigsmans and started a conversation. Soon they were walking through the church doors and were met by a priest.
“Micah, this is Monsignor Mathias,” the mother introduced the cleric.
Micah had bumped into the man the previous day after Kevin Derocher took his fall. He was a youthful middle-aged priest full of energy.
“Morning young man,” the priest spoke with an undefinable accent. “I saw your run, very nice. Welcome to St. John’s. The Krigsmans have said many good things about you.”
Micah looked at the parents wondering why they would talk about him to this stranger. He studied them for a moment, and there was a secret they were not telling him. He then looked at Cory, and he was as surprised as Micah.
The Monsignor smiled. “I’ve got some things to attend to, but I’ll see you after services,” and he shook Micah’s hand.
During Mass, Micah followed Cory’s lead, duplicating whatever Cory did. He would have rather been riding Styx. As the family went to receive the Eucharist, he stayed in his seat watching. After the dismissal, the family remained seated. Micah was antsy and wanted to get home; the more he thought about home, the longer they sat. Finally they stood, but rather than going out the door to the parked car, they went through a side exit and over to the school.
St. John’s School was multistoried with a dark brown brick fascia. They went into an administrative area and entered an office where the Monsignor sat at a desk. The man stood and put out his hand for Micah to shake. After the greetings, he handed Micah some paperwork.
Micah studied the papers. It was an application for admission. Micah was puzzled. It had been completed, signed by Mr. Dorsey and stamped ACCEPTED. He looked at the Krigsmans quizzically. “What’s this?”
“You are so smart and so full of potential that we wanted to give you an opportunity for a great education. St. John’s can give you things that Camino del Rio cannot.”
Micah saw a file on the desk with his name on it. He reached over and picked it up and started perusing it. It had his records from Tierra Verde and Eastlawn; his IQ exam, performance evaluations, and a write up from his Personality Profile. He felt like he had been raped. He peered over at Cory. Micah was sure that Cory knew nothing about this.
He felt his anger grow, bristling. He closed his eyes to get control. And then he opened them, and his anger dissipated. “My parents can’t afford this, and I don’t want Mr. Dorsey to pay for it. He does too much already.”
The priest pulled a sheet of paper from the back of the file. It was a full scholarship. “Payment is all taken care of for you and your friends.” The priest smiled. “I understand how close you and Cory are to your mates. So you all can come to St. John’s. The four of you would be an asset to the school. And in this way, you can take advanced classes and not leave your friends behind. They would be here with you. All we need is your acceptance.”
“You want a decision today? Are you sure Dane and Tandy would come?” Micah’s anger was starting to grow again.
“Also,” Francis Krigsman spoke, “Coach Britt will be coming here next semester. He accepted an offer from the Board to be our head coach.”
“But I’m not Catholic.” Micah responded. How would I fit in?”
“Are you sure of that? But it doesn’t matter. You know,” the Monsignor commenced, “I was raised in a practicing, kosher Jewish home. I remember a story an uncle told me:”
“There was a young man who loved very deeply a beautiful girl, and they wanted to marry. The girl was from a very conservative Hasidic family but the boy’s home was secular and not religious at all. When the young man announced his desire to marry the girl, his father became angry and he yelled and forbade the marriage. ‘No son of mine will marry a fanatic!’ he screamed.”
“There was much shouting, but finally the boy ran out of the house saying he would marry his girl whether he liked it or not. The boy’s mother pointed a finger at her husband. ‘You want to lose your son. At least talk to the girl’s rabbi. How would that hurt?’”
“The father loved his son more than life. So the next Sabbath, he went to the Hasidic community to meet with their rabbi. He watched the service and the jubilation. Then he was summond to a small room. He told the rabbi that he didn’t believe anything that they believed, and that he was there so he would not lose his son whom he adored.”
“The rabbi listened and smiled. ‘Pretend to believe. That will cause you no harm, and it will preserve your son’s love and your family. Go to shul and participate. Celebrate the High Holy Days. Conduct the Seder. What will it hurt?’”
“The father smiled. ‘I will do this.’ And he went home happy. He pretended to believe the Hasidic way. He attended services; said the prayers; celebrated the High Holy Days; and conducted a Seder every year. After decades of play-acting, after his family grew to be numerous, he sat in shul on a Sabbath night, an old man with tears flowing down his face, because after all of these years pretending, he discovered he did believe.”
Monsignor Mathias studied Micah. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, pretend to be something that I’m not. I have nothing to lose but a lot to gain. And maybe I might learn to believe.”
“Yes, that’s all it is,” the Father smiled.
“I will think about it. I will let you know in July. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine.” The Monsignor stood, walked around his desk and patted Micah on the back. “Make the right decision for yourself. But I promise that you will like it here, that you will be challenged. Remember, you are making a life decision, so think about it carefully.”
There was no talking on the way to the Dorsey place. It was going on 1:00 in the afternoon, and Micah was upset and famished. Fish and cucumbers for breakfast were not very filling. The corral fence was open and there were a few cars parked in the open area. Mr. Krigsman pulled in and parked next to his mother’s Chevy. The backyard was full of people, and Tom had two barbeque grills smoking.
He saw Tandy and Dane running around; Isabella and Lindy were talking near the gate to the creek. His mother was tossing a salad. Micah’s brother Eddy and his wife were sitting in lawn chairs, while Sissy and her husband were helping Mr. Dorsey. JJ was sitting on his horse next to the barn. Henry was pouring lemonade.
Micah jumped out followed by the Krigsmans, who had big smiles on their faces. Francis Krigsman went to the trunk of his car and pulled out a wrapped package. Micah knew at that point, tomorrow was his birthday. He would be eleven. He had forgotten the day.
He ran into the yard, and his mother came and hugged him. “Happy Birthday David Micah, my baby boy. May you have a hundred more,” his mother pronounced. Then everyone else greeted him. Only pops was missing, and that brought sadness for a moment.
On the table was a platter of T-bones and hamburgers, coleslaw, potato salad, baked beans, a huge bakery birthday cake, and a humongous chocolate pudding pie. Another table was full of presents. Tom had set his and Cory’s steak aside since they ate theirs pert near raw. They grabbed their steaks and a couple of bloody hamburger patties and took a seat on the grass next to Dane; Tandy, Jimmy John and Lindy soon joined them, and they ate and talked and teased.
Soon it was birthday present time. The first present handed to Micah was from Lindy. It was an amethyst rosary with a silver portrait of Our Lady of Fatima as its center. He hugged Lindy, and noticed that his mother turned a little pink from his amorous display. Isabella gave him a box of
ammo. Sissy and Eddy both gave him new Levis.
JJ handed him a big package, but first said a few words. “Coach Britt asked me to give you this, it is from the team. We all feel that you earned it.”
Micah pulled the paper off of the box, and inside was a Camino del Rio Letterman Sweater, purple and gold. He put it on proudly. “I can wear it to school can’t I?” He asked JJ.
“Of course, you’re on the team aren’t you?” JJ smiled.
Mr. Dorsey handed him an envelope from Dane, Tandy and Henry. Micah opened it, and it said, “Go in the barn.”
He ran into the stable, and there was the little donkey, Puckers, tied to the rails next to Styx. “My dad said to get rid of him, that he was a nuisance.” Dane looked sad. “He ain’t no nuisance! I knew you would love and take good care of him.” Micah punched Dane in a display of friendship, and he hated Mr. Petit for putting Dane through such pain.
Mr. Dorsey handed him some chaps and the Krigsmans gave him a new leather vest. And finally his mother gave him a long box. Micah ripped into it, and it was a Remington 1100 12 gauge shotgun with a 28" barrel. Micah smiled and kissed his mother.
“Your dad wanted to be here, but he just couldn’t make it. He is very busy up in Liberal. He told me to get this for you and to tell you that he loves you.”
“Thank you.” Micah faced everyone at the gathering. “You are all my family except Cory and he can kiss my ass,” both of the boys smiled. “Naw, I tell an untruth. Cory’s my brother. Each of you has made me a better person. You’ve taught me a lot. You have accepted me as part of your lives, and there is no grater gift than that. I am very lucky.” Then he picked up Mr. Dorsey’s glass of wine and held it high. “To all of you!”
Chapter 15: Guy Derocher
“He had a file an inch thick with all my school records plus an application for admission, and my personality profile. Jeeze! I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.” Micah was not angry as much as he was hurt.
“If I had brought it up earlier, you’d do what you always do and refuse out of hand without ever considering the opportunity.” The old man regretted going behind the boy’s back. The Krigsmans had pushed for this, but he fully agreed with them. “I am sorry. It’s my fault. I only wanted to give you a choice.”