"Oak Orchard"

                                  8

                      " Two Stones "

  My first thoughts were that I had overslept again. Then I realized that the work was temporarily caught up and I could sleep in all I wanted. Besides I could use some extra sleep with the extended happy hour going a bit past where I wanted. It was all Mary's fault with all her innuendo's ,sly looks coupled with my brain going into overdrive. But as usual I got control of the situation before it got out of hand. If I had only been more insightful years back when I was married and had a  family. Maybe I wouldn't have all these demons. It was hard all these years not having anyone in your life worth mentioning. Passing flings, one nighters and lots of lonely free time.

  I had thought from time to time of settling down again but finding the right woman seemed impossible. So I spent the last 10 years wrapped up in my business. Even that was beginning to lose my interest. With a clear head now, Mary did not interest me at all. Well maybe she did a little.

  Monday morning was like any other. I always knew what I was doing for the day and was ready to tackle it head on. I debated whether to take some measurements for the trim work and be ready to start cutting as soon as the lumber was unloaded. It didn't take too much time to decide. I was taking the day off. Not just think about it. Maybe take a ride and see what houses were for sale around here. It was a quiet town for sure. A good place to settle down even if I was alone.

  I fried up some eggs to eat along with a half  pound of bacon, toast and washed it all down with four cups of coffee to prime the pump. Milled around for another fifteen minutes replenishing the nicotine while sorting through my mind if I needed anything while I was out.
 
  "Get the hell off the truck!"  I barked departing the front porch.

  I was beginning to like them until I noticed that below their perch on my mirrors was bird shit dripping down the doors and off the mirrors.

  "Whats this for? Good luck?" I looked airborne before entering the truck in case an aerial assault was in the works.

  I rolled around the block, crept up and down a few of the side streets off Bayview. Most of the streets were a combination of gravel and crushed clam shells with just a few of the streets partially blacktopped. A few of the cottages were for sale but only a phone number with an occasional price attached. Few of them were what you would call dream homes. Mostly old weathered and well in need of repair. But they all had character. Each was as individual as the people who inhabited them. They had a personality like mine; rough looking on the outside but cozy and warm on the inside. At least that's how I imagined us.

  I ventured to a boat launch where a few people appeared working on boats getting them ready for the season ahead. Scraping barnacles off the bottoms, applying fresh paint and out in front of a work shop an outboard motor was churning water in a large barrel like a paint mixer fixed to an electric drill. The old salt with dirty overalls, pliers in hand looked as if he rolled in with the last tide. At the very least his coveralls had not seen the likes of a washing machine since the day they were purchased. Atop his head a cap rimmed with sweat stains  completed his attire.

  I parked the truck off to the side beneath an oak tree along side an old beat up Chevy Malibu with blue faded paint, bald tires, a missing head light and its newly appointed chauffeur a crow. As I departed my truck the crow flew off probably being informed of my cranky disposition. And without hesitation I swaggered over to where the master marine mechanic stood.

  "Hey how's it going?" I screamed to rise above the noise of the gurgling outboard motor.
  He barely cracked his head around enough to recognize me and continued on with his fine tune adjustments. While I thought for a moment whether to increase the volume or just walk away a familiar face caught my eye off to the left by the boat ramp. I turned and approached.

  "Hey, hows it going Reddog?" His return greeting was a carbon copy of the last cold shoulder.
  "You work here?" I stepped a bit closer in case the boat motor drowned out my voice.

  "Sometimes." That was the familiar response. "What brings you here?" He asked as he fumbled with some mooring lines.

  "Just having a look around. See what else is around these parts besides the Crows Nest."

  "Thinking about staying here?" His comment took me back.

  "Why did you ask that?" His ability to read my mind was somewhat like the dream-state crap the father pulled on me at the house.
  "You read minds too?" I laughed but he saw no humor in it.

  "Reddog!" The old tide-runner hollered.

    He walked off toward the shop to follow the old man back inside. I had a look around the rest of the yard hoping Reddog would return and continue our one sided conversation. Finally I fired the truck up and backed down the drive the way I came in. A black Labrador Retriever sat under a large forsythia bush near the end of the drive. It ventured a mild bark and put his head back down as I pulled away.

  It was getting to be about eleven and passing the Crow's Nest I determined that on the way back I'd pay a visit. Bayview Drive eventually wound away from the water and into some farm land. The countryside was beautiful with stands of trees bordering fields. Ttactors plowing away at furrows like snails toward a destination. Large farmhouses with old silos, broken down equipment years waiting for parts parked along side out- buildings or weather beaten barns. Yards with private gardens parallel to long clothes poles lined with linens and garments of all sorts. It was typical of any farm area except the bay loomed just miles back down the road. It was truly a paradise. A place where anyone would want to live.

  My mind drifted as I rolled along the back-roads aimlessly. I wondered what the land was like before the settlers. When my ancestors hunted and fished here. Worked small patches of earth to provide for families. I tried to envision communities of Native Americans across my field of vision. Smoke rising gently into azure blue sky. Men carrying game or fish for cleaning. Women with baskets of clams and crabs or gathering firewood. What a beautiful world and life it must have been back then.

  "Holy shit!"  The truck launched sideways as I swerved to miss two deer that came from across the road.

  "Watch where the hell your going ,Sam. Or you'll be part of this landscape."

  I laughed as the sudden fear was replaced with wonder again at their surprise visit. They bounded across the field that had temporarily mesmerized me. As I watched them leave my sight the truck now at rest along side a pasture; I returned to my daydream eyes fixed in the direction of the deer. A crow landed on a fence post and hollered for my attention. The dream was over. I stared at him for another few minutes absorbed in thought then looked around once more before pulling off.

  I yanked my sunglasses off as I entered the Nest and strolled into an empty room except for Ray the bar-keep.

  "Hello Ray."

  "How ya been Sam? Beer?"

  "Yeah. Not bad I guess. Could be worse I suppose." I reached for my wallet to discover it was gone.
  "Ah shit wait a minute on that." I panicked as each pocket was searched.

  "The old I forgot my wallet trick Sam?" He set the beer in front of me and laughed. "Don't worry pal pay the tab next time. I trust you. Don't know why but I do." He laughed at himself as he returned to smells from the kitchen.

  "Thanks Ray. Guess I left it back at the house."  At least I hoped it would be.

  "You know something Ray.That catbird Reddog is strange to say the least. He doesn't have to disappear on you he just don't talk much period. What did you call him? A shape-shifter? What the hell is that?" I raised my voice so Ray busy in the kitchen could hear.

  " Who? Reddog?" He wiped his hands on a dish towel as he walked towards me.

  "Yeah. Remember you were saying something about him last time I was in?"

  "Can't remember Sam but what do you want to know?" Ray leaned on the bar.

  "Aw I don't know. The guy is weird. Don't talk much. Disappears into thin air. But he knows things about this place."

  "Sam, I told you he is not someone to fool with or provoke and I told you people around here don't like nosy people asking too many questions."

  "Come on Ray. Everyone knows everybody's business around here!"

  "That's true Sam but your not from around here. Get my drift?" He grabbed my glass for a refill.

  "I just want to find out about the weird shit happening to me!" I trailed those words off in thought.

  "What kind of weird shit we talking about Sam?" He leaned in to me again.
 
    His look was one of those looks you get from inquiring minds. Maybe he didn't need to know. They might think I'm nuts and run me out of town.
  "Hell. You are nutsSam." I thought.

  "Ah forget about it. Look I'll be back in to pay you for the two beers later. I got to make sure that wallet is at home or I'll be in deep shit. Thanks Ray."

  "Alright then, have a good one Sam."

  I returned about one pm and made some lunch. A half empty bottle on the counter grew eyes for me. I parked it back in the cabinet, cleaned up the left over debris accumulated in the sink then sat out in the back yard. Smells of blossoms mixed with salt marsh filled my nostrils and pleasant thoughts returned. The early Spring accompanied the unusual warmth for April with sounds of lawnmowers chopping away at tall grass reminding me of life starting over. Spring and Fall had long been my favorite months. The richness of Spring brought on colors with wildlife attracting new mates. Flowers with busy pollinators and. returning migrating birds filling the sky and limbs. The Spring Peepers serenade to all things new.

  I probably sat another two hours or so daydreaming of past Springs and past good times and joys. Memories of my kids seeped in as I fought back tears. I had been a good father once. If only I had stuck with it. But looking back I always tried to focus on the good not the bad or the darkness. You can't change the past nor live in it. You don't know what tomorrow will bring.  Only each day you can control. Each day try to make it a day worth remembering. Life is too damn short to sit around lamenting about the 'what ifs.' No amount of money or success can insure happiness. Instead it's the things that don't really cost a dime. Time spent with family, walks in the woods, the simple things that make us whole. Make us part of this planet and universe.

  I rattled on in my head until I had exhausted the memories then the  darkness seeped back in. It was time to get up and find something to do. I felt refreshed as I began measuring for the trim upstairs. With the few hours of light left I was driven and it wasn't until after seven that I finished up my calculations for the trim that would arrive sometime mid-morning. By weeks end I'd be close to being done and could start on a few of the other demands that good old Ms. Costello mentioned. She had been married but went back to using her maiden name again after the divorce. Go figure. I guess it's like one last blow to the ex-husband's mid-section so to speak. One last dig like ' I don't need nothing from you no more'  kind of thing. Who cares anyway? A name is just a name.

  By eigth thirty and only a single night cap downed I decided to turn in to my old friend the couch. After a few weeks it had conformed to my shape and drew me down in like a lover promising comfort. In no time I was fast asleep.

  "Wake up, my son. It is time." I stirred to the familiar voice.

  "I am here." As I fought off the slumber my eyes engaged the same crystalline room.

  "Rise and go to the yard." He commanded as I was froze to the couch.
  "You will stand in the center of the yard. In it you will find the stones.
The stones of life and death."

  "I'm looking for stones?" What the hell for I wondered. But my thoughts were now his.

  " Rise up now,Onaquacome son of the Bear Clan. Go now."

  Suddenly I found myself standing in the room moving toward the back door and yard. As I poised in the center of the yard pitch black encased me. The moonless night provided no direction for sight.

  "Where are the stones?" I questioned.

  "Reach down into the fire and feel the black stone and the white stone."

  "There is no fire." As I reached down into the black emptiness. Hands touching something smooth round. I drew back up and flames appeared all around dancing like warriors.

  When I came back out of the dream state I was back in the living room right hand firmly gripping something. I stared at my hand afraid but knowing what it contained. I loosened my grip snd two almost perfectly round smooth stones appeared. One black as coal the other white as snow.

  The events of the past few weeks had gone from disbelief to a conglomerate of the real and the surreal. What had once been certain steadfast beliefs in life and death now were turned upside down. Everything around me took on new meaning. Everything had purpose. I had purpose although not quite sure what for. There was more here then I ever dreamed in a lifetime for sure.

  I awoke to the sound of a large truck's noisy diesel engine and squeaky brakes jockeying for position out front of the house. I reached over to grab my boots to find stones still in my grasp. A black one and a white one. Black as coal, white as snow.
  "Well I'll be damned!"  I stared for a second or two and found a resting place in my pocket for them. It was time for work.

   
  wc 2538