Back to that hot summer night in July. We were alone together. In our bedroom. Me and the one that looked like me. The air was sticky. To sticky to sleep.
The crickets were quiet. To hot to chirp. Or so we thought.
Suddenly our bedroom lit up like it was daytime. Not like any daytime we had ever awoken to. Colorful like a rainbow. Reds greens yellows and blues.
We could hear the trees in the forest by the river. It sounded as if they were being crumbled. We jumped out of bed looked out the window and it seemed as if the forest was on fire. Smoke dirt sand rubble debris filled the outside air and looking thru the window it was as if the forest by the river had disappeared.
We had to go find it. We ran down the stairs and thru the many rooms until finally we were out the back door and into the smoke filled air where we knew our forest was. Both of us stopped. Frightened together yet alone. In our thoughts. We could see the colors in the forest but they were fading. We could hear the sound coming from the earth. Shifting. Changing. It was the forest by the river and it was separating & being penetrated. The lights were dimming as quickly as the sound was fading. The dust was settling. The darkness was returning.
The air was hot. Hotter than before. I was crying. Jerry was running. Into the forest by the river. I followed him. Long before we reached the river the forest ended. It was gone. The trees were ash. The earth was hot. Still moving. We could feel the earth below and and we could hear the sound. It was faint but we could still hear it. Like the sound of Uncle Lekahs drill from the dredger. The sound we had been hearing all summer. The earth being separated penetrated. But it wasn't the same. This sound was cushioned and mystifying. Then it was over. Silence with no movement. The earth was still and the air was silent. We looked at each other not knowing what to say. Not knowing what had happened. We walked back to the house on the hill. Thru the back door and the many rooms and back up the stairs into our bedroom. What were we to tell Father & Mother? Should we go back down the stairs and dial the number? 4216. No. We would wait until the morning. Sunday morning at Mothers breakfast. That's when we would tell them. The bedroom was hot the air was sticky and the crickets were chirping. The truth was out there. In the forest by the river.
The next morning Grand Ma Ma & Grand Pa Pa drove up to the house on the hill for Sunday Breakfast at Mothers. As soon as Father came down the stairs and thru the many rooms into the kitchen we told our story of the night before. Father said it was the dredgers end of discussion, Mother whispered that she believed us and Grand Ma Ma simply said.....aaaaahhhhhhhh HORSESHIT! Jerry and I both knew better.....The Truth Was Out There. In The Forest. By The River.