NINE2016

The Commune

Dream

The warm summer sun filtered through the trees towering over us. Sunny and I lay on a blanket, watching its movement and feeding each other her favorite organic medjool dates. She gave up sugar when she joined the commune, as we all had, preferring to keep our bodies free of its addictive poison; but the sweet dates were her one indulgence and I made sure to always have them for her. Dates were a luxury at Listening Lark, only available to all family members during special times.

The commune was a contradiction sometimes. Freedom to do as you want, yet still rules. Is there anything such as complete freedom? Maybe that depends on how you define freedom and the price you must pay to get it. You can have freedom but not necessarily be free. I think we often think of it as an outward journey, yet the inward journey is the most important, and the most difficult. At least in the commune, our freedom wasn’t challenged as it might be in the outside world with regular jobs, rent, taxes and everything else people had to struggle with on a day-to-day basis. Not to mention legal issues that may arise. Oh, I knew all about them.

Sunny, meanwhile, knew about internal forces. I saw her struggles, her inward journey. It was part of what drew us together. A brokenness existed inside her, the same as me, and I felt that pull not only of our bodies, but our hearts as well, maybe to heal that wound and salvage what was left. She didn’t tell me much about her past, but I felt there were many details in it that she didn’t want to discuss, and that was fine with me. I, too, had many details from my past I chose to ignore. At Listening Lark though, we could forget them, and live in the here and now.

We liked to sit in silence together on occasion; Sunshine Lotus and Dream, together on another plane, I often thought. We smoked the sacred herb, large puffs rising to the tree branches and swirling all around us. We were the only life forms that existed in this state, and I wished this was true always, but even at a commune, you had to face reality at some point.

TEN2023

Aimee

The day passed in a blur. Despite the slow start, customers eventually arrived, and bought numerous items, making opening day a success. But I could barely feel my happiness; my mind was completely focused on only one thing.

That damn bag of dates.

They still sat on the counter in the back room of the store. I wouldn’t take them into my house. Our house. Who would have placed them in the refrigerated case? How could someone get into the store? None of it made any sense to me. But I knew one thing. Those dates were meant for me, not as a snack, but as a warning.

Was it Brother Jim? Had he found me after all these years?

I fiddled around in the barn, scooping chicken feed into a metal bucket. Sweat ran down my forehead. Today was a classic hazy, hot and humid summer day and I longed to jump into the pool to cool off, which I would soon do. I leaned over to get a bigger scoop, the strap of my denim overalls falling off my shoulder. Finally, the bucket was full. I pulled my strap up and headed out to the coop.

The chickens circled for their food, squawking, and pecking as soon as it was dispersed. I laughed at their excitement and gathered all the eggs, which I then took to the slop sink in the barn, washing and drying each egg before placing them into cartons. I would keep them in the small refrigerator until I transported them to the store, minus a couple. Those I needed for breakfast.

Archie had a dentist appointment this morning, so it was just me for breakfast today. I entered the back door into the kitchen and sat the egg carton on the counter. The ceiling fan at the center of the room hummed lending sound to an otherwise silent house. I surveyed the kitchen, everything appeared normal, but my senses heightened and I felt on edge, unsure of my surroundings. I paused, I was used to the quiet by now, but something disturbed me in the familiar space.

Something felt…

Ominous.

I stood still for a few minutes, just listening. Other than the fan, I didn’t hear anything, but something nipped at me, an uneasy feeling I was unable to shake off. I scanned the room again, plucking a large knife out of the block on the kitchen counter.

Was someone here?

Inside the house?

The same person who left the dates at the store?

I crept down the hall into the living room—nothing appeared disturbed. Nor in the dining room or small office downstairs. I now stood at the base of the staircase and proceeded up the stairs. I took one step and then stopped, listening again. Was that something? A shuffle of some sort? My heart hammering, I stood still for a few more minutes, but no more sound came. I moved up the stairs slowly, gripping the rich walnut handrail.

I tried to tread as carefully as possible. The stairs showed their age, and it seemed as if each one had a particular squeak. I maintained my breathing and pussyfooted up the stairs, still listening. For what, I wasn’t sure, but something was here.

Something that should not be here.

Or someone.

I finally reached the top of the stairs and walked down the hall to the master bedroom, first peeking into the hall bathroom, where luckily the shower curtain was opened because I had been cleaning in there earlier. Nothing unusual there.

Our bedroom door was closed. I stared at the doorknob; I was certain it was open when I went downstairs earlier. We rarely, if ever, closed the bedroom door. Why would we? Archie and I were the only ones who lived here. I gripped the doorknob and turned.

The clock by the side of our bed ticked loudly. Louder than I had ever realized: How hadn’t I noticed its intensity before? Then again, the room had never seemed so quiet as it did in this moment. Our bed, a king-size sleigh style, dominated the room and was neatly made up in bright blue wedding ring quilt and matching pillow shams. I looked at the gray wingback chair to the side, at our nightstands, each with a creamy white pedestal lamp, and my bureau with a decorative mirror and wide shelf that housed my perfumes, jewelry box and assorted framed photos of myself and Archie, and at a tall dresser on Archie’s side—nothing looked out of place. My gaze fell on my vanity table by the window, filled with makeup, moisturizers, and hair items. Lying in the center of the table was a necklace. A remembrance of long ago. Something that had not been in my jewelry box, but wrapped in a small bag, buried in an old shoebox in my closet with other mementos of the past. I should have thrown it away.

A turquoise necklace.

I’d searched the entire house, barn and garage, but the intruder was nowhere to be found, finished with their task of the day I supposed. Nerves trickled through me for the rest of the day and mounted inside me so much I felt as if I was going to have a panic attack. It had to be Brother Jim. Who else would have a reason to seek me out? I remembered how scared I’d been when I’d first fled Listening Lark, thinking that he would catch up with me. As more and more time had passed I had relaxed. Clearly that was a mistake. But how had he found me? And why play these cat and mouse games with me now? The man I remembered was someone who confronted people directly, not by leaving creepy reminders. None of this made any sense.

I had composed myself by the time Archie arrived home. He didn’t know about this part of my past, and I didn’t ever want him to know. How would I even start explaining everything to him? What would he think of me if he knew all the truths of my past? I didn’t want to take that chance. One bit of mantra from Listening Lark I kept alive was the stance of living in the here and now. Archie didn’t need to know about my past; it had no bearing on our lives now, despite this strange intrusion. No, I would handle whatever was going on. I wouldn’t drag my loving Archie into it. I knew he’d do anything to protect me, and I appreciated the sentiment, but I could take care of myself. I’d been doing it for years.

I was toiling in the garden, picking green beans, when he arrived home. The sun stood high in the sky; I should have waited for evening shade to pick but I needed to keep busy.

Archie walked out the back door in his swimming trunks, wearing sunglasses. He spotted me in my cut-off denim overalls and wide-brimmed sun hat, squatting down, hurriedly picking beans and adding them to the basket I held.

“Hey, it’s too hot for that,” he called. “Come swimming with me.”

Just the sight of him was enough to start to calm my racing heart. “Okay,” I replied, my smile genuine. “I’ll just finish this row and I’ll put my suit on.”

“You don’t need a suit,” he said.

“You’re wearing one,” I said, laughing.

“Not for long.” He jumped into the pool and threw his suit on the side.

I left the basket full of beans in the dirt and joined my naked husband in the pool.

This was the exact distraction I needed.

ELEVEN2023

Aimee

Poplin Elementary School was a large tan brick building with a bright red roof. Well-manicured green shrubbery nestled in dark mulch filled the flowerbeds, and bright red geraniums stood in an elegant row in front. Archie and I parked in the back parking lot and entered through the side door. A few other teachers and staff, including Robin, also headed in.

“Ooh, Aimee. I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, her arms full of tote bags stuffed with random items. “Would you help me set up my back bulletin board before you help Archie? I’m doing a movie theme this year. I already did one board with the students’ names, but I still have to do our best work board. Please help me!”

I laughed. “I guess I can for a bit.” I turned to Archie. “You’ll be on your own for a while, babe.”

He smiled as we walked down the hall, its floor gleaming from the summer deep clean. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Are you doing a movie theme for your classroom, too?” I asked.

“No, I’m doing a camping theme,” he said. “Remember all that stuff I ordered?”

“I knew it was for school, but we didn’t open anything, so I wasn’t sure exactly what it was,” I replied. “Camping theme sounds fun.”