The Pinecone Apothecary

by S J Amit

  “And sometimes people just want to get better acquainted, get to know each other a bit more, get closer, so that we’re not strangers,” I said.

  “I don’t know if Kelemance has already told you this, Julian, but there are no strangers in the Land of the Mosaic.” Lampharsella returned from stirring the pot again and sat to my right, “I think that the people who come here from faraway lands prefer not to confront the truth about themselves, the truth that comes out during moments of silence, especially when they’re in the company of other people.”

  “And then they use words to blur out that which has been revealed to them,” Pontubelle added.

  “For us, words for the sake of words create a noise which makes it harder for us to truly get to know one another.” Lampharsella looked at Pontubelle, who smiled at her.

  “Listen to the tranquillity,” Pontubelle continued, “The free spirits within us are already conversing. In the Land of the Mosaic, in order to get to know people sincerely and truly get closer, there’s nothing better than sharing a silence with someone you have only just met.”

  When the stew was ready, the children and the four of us gathered around the big bonfire for a meal. After that, the children went to sleep in the long tent, situated not too far from the bonfire. Only that little girl, Choopster, stayed out. She sat crossed legged and placed paper after paper on the wooden board, continuing her drawings. Occasionally she’d lay on her stomach, brush aside the hair from her eyes, and go on drawing. She’d then return to sitting, look up, scratch her chin, take a new piece of paper and resume drawing. Pontubelle and Kelemance were constructing a pile of rocks and branches not too far from her. The rain had subsided a bit, but I could still hear little droplets tapping on the black cover above us. Lampharsella walked over to Choopster and told her a few words, then went over to a pile of cloths nearby me, which I hadn’t noticed prior to that, and took a few folded sheets of fabric. She went into the children’s tent and stayed there. Choopster stayed out and continued drawing. Something about that girl fascinated me. I walked over and sat next to her.

  “Hi, I’m Julian.” She didn’t lift her eyes off the paper. “What are you drawing?” I smiled at her.

  “I’m making a drawing for each one of my friends.” She continued concentrating on the drawing and didn’t look at me.

  “Lucky them, can I see?”

  She raised her gaze from the paper. “Yes,” she looked at me with big honey-colored eyes and slightly scrunched up brows, as though she were assessing me with suspicion as to whether or not I was genuinely taking interest. I saw then, for the first time from up close, how vacant her eyes really were. “I hope they’ll be happy, I don’t want them to forget me. But some aren’t finished yet,” she pointed at a few pieces of paper that she had put to the side.

  Her chin was speckled with color, as were the tips of her curls and even her ears. Her little hands were completely covered in color.

  I gathered the drawings. I noticed that she was gauging my facial reactions as I looked at each one of them. “So what’s your name?” I asked without looking away from the drawings.

  “I’m Michelle, but here they call me Choopster.”

  “I find your drawings very beautiful, Choop-Michelle,” I held them all with one hand and looked at her. Her look softened a bit and she smiled at me. “How old are you, Michelle?” I placed the drawings next to her.

  “I’m still here, so you can call me Choopster. I’m six years old, but here I’m twenty four changing seasons old.”

  She fell silent, leaned down and returned to her drawing. She occasionally stopped to inspect it. The little smile that had lit up her face only a moment before, had already vanished. I didn’t know whether she was concentrating on the drawing again or whether she was sad again.

  “Choopster, do you know that I’m far away from my home as well?”

  She raised her gaze again. “What, were you sent here too?” she looked into my eyes.

  “To be honest, I don’t know how I got here.” I heard myself telling her that sentence and a little giggle broke out of me, “I was just a little bit sick back home.”

  “Why are you laughing if you were sick?” her eyes opened with wonder.

  “It’s just that this conversation… it’s funny that it’s with you of all people… never mind. You’re a lovely girl, Choopster.”

  “Thank you. And you, are you feeling better now, Julian?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a little bit. But you seem sad.”

  “I think something’s wrong with me.” She leaned her elbows on the board with the drawing, and her chin and cheeks on her color-smudged hands. “I don’t want to go back,” her voice was stifled as if she were trying not to cry, “Everywhere I go I get pointed at. I try my best to be good but I can’t manage it. I think that the people there don’t like me.”

  Her little voice trickled into me, the soft and innocent voice of a child, it immediately halted the chuckling mode I was in a moment before, and it cut right through my insides. When I had sat next to her to begin with, I was mainly interested in connecting with her a little bit, maybe entertaining her a bit as she seemed sad. But now, as she looked at me and spoke to me, something within me weakened and all I wanted was to hug her. “What... do you mean?” I stuttered.

  “I don’t take part in competitions, and when everyone plays outdoors I just sit on the side.” She sat up. Her face was even more covered in color now. “I never care about who wins. I actually just like wandering through the fields. Sometimes they make fun of me and tell me I’m different. But I don’t understand what’s wrong about being different.” Her eyes were becoming vacant again. “Isn’t it true that all children are different, Julian?” I didn’t say a word. “To me, everyone looks different, but they just try really hard all the time to look the same.”

  This girl, this little girl who’s only six years old, was saying these things in a kind of blasé monotony, without emoting through the words, no happiness, no sadness, not even really complaining about anyone. I was stunned by her vacant gaze which testified as to what she was feeling inside, and by her gentle voice, which contrasted the harsh things she was saying and the clarity with which she said them. I didn’t know what to say and my throat felt stifled. She returned to concentrating on her drawing. The bonfire occasionally let out a little spark that would flicker, the burning coals illuminating her face with a reddish light.

  A beautiful girl. She occasionally reached her hand out and pulled the curls from her face to behind her ears. Big honey-colored eyes. Tiny nose. The colors looked tremendous against her little hands. She collected all the papers on the board and placed everything on the side, fixed the colors on top of the papers and got up.

  I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Mich-… Choopster, do your mom and dad know about what you’ve just told me? Lampharsella, Pontubelle? Has anyone told them that you prefer to stay here?”

  “Um… I don’t know, maybe tomorrow. I want to stay, but I also miss my parents.” She shook the dirt off her color-stained clothes. “My dad always says he only listens to Kelemance.” Her face was the same height as my mine while I was sitting. She hugged me tight and put her head on my shoulder, “Good night, Julian,” she kissed me on the cheek, took the board with the papers and colors, and went into the children’s tent.

  The pale light of early morning shone through the tent. A little bit more sleep. My back ached, cold air was coming through the hood I had over my head, chilling the backs of my ears. I pulled the hood to cover my eyes, snuggled into the blankets and turned to my side. Uncomfortable. Pressure. I needed to pee.

  Footsteps outside the tent, someone was walking around outside. I sat up, pulled off the hood from my head, rubbed my face, my scalp, opened my eyes. Kelemance wasn’t in the tent. I advanced on all fours to the front of the tent, slid the cover to the side and poked my head out. Kelem
ance was with his back to me, carrying two bags, one on each shoulder, walking away from me through the trees to the direction from which we had arrived yesterday. I sat in the tent for a few moments longer, until the chill woke me up completely and I came out.

  Yesterday’s clearing had remains of smoke, thinly floating above the burnt wood boards that had become black coal. The cold air carried the smell of smoke. The children’s closed tent seemed smaller now. The trees around me were much taller than what I had seen through last night’s darkness. Not too far from the edge of the forest there was a pile of trash, and next to it a big pile of wood and a heap of rocks. I was barefoot, but the ground was relatively clean, so I took a few steps into the forest, despite worrying I’d get injured.

  “Come to the water,” Kelemance surprised me as he popped out from behind a tree to my left.

  “Wait, I have to p--,”

  “Hold it in for a few more minutes, and lets bring the rest of the things to the boat too,” he said quietly and went over to the two remaining bags, I followed him. “Bring everything we hung up yesterday,” he picked up a bag and turned to leave.

  “What about the last bag?” I asked and picked the clothes off the branches, as well as the fabric sheets which were still moist.

  “We don’t need that bag, and everything will dry when the sun comes up, don’t worry,” he whispered as he walked past me.

  I couldn’t hold it in anymore, when we got to a hidden place in the forest and could no longer see the clearing and the tents, I stopped in front of one of the trees and threw everything I had carried onto the ground.

  He turned to me, “When you’re done just continue straight in this direction,” he indicated with his head. “We’re already near the river,” he walked away.

  Steam rose up from my fountain of pee, which washed over the tree trunk and the brown leaves on the ground beneath it. A row of ants who ignored the pee-stream continued to follow a trail of amber that went from the tree top down into a hole in the trunk. Blue sky peeped through the treetops. Man, what a relief.

  I continued walking for a few more minutes, and the more I advanced, the more the ground became sandy, until the river appeared through the trees. Kelemance, who had already placed the three bags inside the boat, was standing next to it coiling a rope. I shook out the clothes and sheets and spread them out on the bow and the side panels, “What now?”

  “We’ll take the boat down into the water soon.”

  I got closer to the river. It looked like a shiny pool of turquoise and blue. The water moved slowly and calmly, caressing the shoreline sand. The sunlight glimmered over the water like diamonds. The faraway riverbank also sparkled through light and shade, and the distant treetops shone in shades of green. The leaves on the nearby trees sparkled blindingly in their gentle movements. I folded my pants up over my shins and went into the water. It was cool. Clear. The bottom was clean and the sand was light-colored. Clusters of kelp were floating here and there. I couldn’t see the river’s beginning or end. Came from afar and flowed far away. Yesterday seemed distant, and was replaced by silence.

  “Come here, grab the bow for a second,” Kelemance’s voice shook me out of the silence. We pulled the boat to the water’s edge. He undressed and got into the water naked. I looked back and to the sides. There was no one else there but the two of us. Kelemance, all on his own, was swimming in a massive pool, which only yesterday was a gushing river of real and present danger.

  I undressed too, threw my clothes into the boat and ran to the water. The cold, and the fact that I was naked, made me dive straight in. The ripples caressed my body with every movement I made towards the depth. I kept swimming across the river until my feet couldn’t touch the bottom, and there I stopped, continuing to move my arms and legs to keep steady, and wiped the water from my eyes. The water was so translucent that even my feet were clearly visible. Kelemance was swimming not too far from me, sometimes on his back, sometimes on his front. Countless tiny fish were swimming by me and clinging onto me, I felt a slight tickling all over my body, as though they were gently nibbling at my skin. I shook them off me and they disappeared. Kelemance swam by me. He stopped and turned to me, “Can you feel how the trees, the sand, the water, the sky, the animals and the sun all want you to become a part of them?” He dived in for a moment and came back up, “The river is all yours,” he spat out water and took a deep breath, “If you want, you can empty yourself and let the fish clean you.” He flipped and started swimming on his back, “Don’t scare them off, they’re communicating with you,” he called to me, “Like all the other creatures, they too are part of the Land of the Mosaic,” and he continued towards the riverbank with a breaststroke.

  I watched him swimming towards the riverbank until he got somewhere he could stand, and then he walked out naked towards the boat. I wanted to feel as comfortable as he did. I was alone in the water, there was no one to be embarrassed by, I tried to convince myself. I was in a huge bath of kings, the sun warmed the air and the water for me. “The river, the sky and the wind are embracing me,” I mumbled to myself and smiled. Slowly I became more relaxed. Less exposed, more liberated. I floated on my back and spread my arms to the sides. A cool breeze caressed my face, my toes, my chest and my knees, which had occasionally bobbed up to the surface and sunk back in. I felt the tickling again, flipped onto my front and sunk my face under the surface. I opened my eyes. Blurry little fish nibbling all over my body. They’re cleaning me, I thought to myself, then lifted my head out of the water and laughed. I straightened up inside the water, leaving my head out, and through the translucence I watched as the countless tiny fish moved back and forth from me, swam alongside me and continued tickling. I started swimming again and my movement made the fish disappear. I continued, and when I got tired I swam towards the riverbank.

  When I reached an area in the water where I could already stand, I saw Kelemance with his pants on, shirtless, leaning over the boat’s right side panel. The ease I had felt was slowly dissipating. With every step I took, my feeling of embarrassment grew stronger. When the water reached my pelvis I stopped for a moment and looked to the sides again, despite knowing for certain that there was no one around but us two. I waited until I was sure Kelemance was busy with his organizations, quickly got out of the water, grabbed my underwear from the bow and swiftly put them on over my wet body.

  “Here you go.” Kelemance surely felt my embarrassment, but ignored it and handed me a bunch of green leaves. “Chew them well, rub them a bit and spit or swallow them, whichever you prefer. They’ll clean your mouth.”

  I smelled them. What were they, parsley leaves? I held them close to my mouth, sniffed at them again. Parsley, definitely. Alex knew I never touched anything that contained raw parsley. I chewed a few times and immediately spat it out. Kelemance laughed and handed me the water jug.

  “I see that you dislike the flavor, try combining these in,” he handed me another bunch, parsley coupled with a few mint leaves. “The bitterness is the same as that from the land which you came from, but don’t concentrate on the taste of the leaves, concentrate only on their freshness.”

  I rinsed my mouth, drank a bit and gave him back the jug. I held the bunch of leaves in my hand and turned towards the river. The cool air on my wet skin gave me a slight chill. I kept staring at the river, the water flowing over the sand, nearing me and washing over my feet, then receding.

  “What are you thinking about?” Kelemance stood next to me.

  “Nothing, you just reminded me of home.”

  “You can always go back, Julian, but now you also know that you can cross the river, that you can get back on the boat and continue sailing along the river that runs through the Valley of Abandoned Issues.”

  “I miss my wife and my son.”

  “I’m sure you do, Julian. I am only your Challenge Bearer, I cannot tell you what to do, that is your decision. But I can pro
mise you one thing, the renewal of the water holds the answer to your dilemma of whether to stay or leave.”

  I remained silent.

  “Remember the intensity of the pain that reached you, that shook you, the pain you heeded, that made you come to the Land of the Mosaic. You can go back home now, or continue until you reach the pinecone apothecary. But only when you truly feel that you are part of this place will you develop courage to continue the endless battle of being at peace with the present moment during your journey to him.”

  I concentrated on the distant riverbank while Kelemance spoke, and then I also tried to be at peace, like he had said. I put the whole bunch of leaves into my mouth, trying hard not to feel disgusted, counted to three, and then chewed as much as I could until I spat out the green mush. I gargled water from the jug and spat. Gargled again, spat again. Kelemance folded the thick pants we had slept in and laid them down on the boat’s bench. “Tell me what it is that’s bothering you,” he told me as I continued standing in front of the water, “Maybe I can assist with the doubt.” He put on his shirt and his hooded top, and handed me the change of clothes that Tipegg had given me.

  After I got dressed I already felt more comfortable, and mainly didn’t feel like thinking anymore, “I’m continuing with you.”

  “Then let’s tell them goodbye, eat something and get going.”

  We crossed the forest back towards the clearing. The children had already woken up and were sitting on a large mat in front of Lampharsella and Pontubelle. Little wooden boards with drawings on top of them were placed by each child’s feet. They were all holding bowls, eating some sort of porridge with a spoon. There was a large pot over the bonfire’s moderate flames. Pontubelle looked at us, and indicated with his eyes towards a smaller mat to our left. Kelemance approached, took two bowls and two bananas, and gave me one of each. We walked over to the pot and served ourselves some warm oatmeal porridge that smelled of cinnamon. Kelemance sprinkled his porridge with raisins from a little fabric bag that was on the mat. “Want some?” he asked and handed me the little bag.