Post by h2f on Jul 7, 2020 7:55:20 GMT -5
Summer has a unique meaning to different people in different parts of the world. When I lived with Memaw before, it was a time of freedom and self exploration. I was free from the daily grind of school. I was free from the peer pressure to become something I didn’t feel I was. I was free from the societal pressures to become ‘normal’, something I still don’t fully understand. In summer, I could go out barefoot and spend the day exploring the nearby woods by myself and it was in summer that I found my connection to and love of nature. Admittedly, most of my connection and love was to the nearby berry bushes that ran wild through the area. Feeling a little at drift and missing the connection I once had, I woke up early to rekindle my love of nature … and to see if the black berries bushes from my teenage years were still there.
After breakfast, I grab my favorite berry bucket from the kitchen, skip out the door and promptly run into my grandmother.
Memaw steadies herself by grabbing the doorframe, “Oaf. Where are you off to in such a rush?”
I hold up my berry bucket. “The tall rock path to visit the berries.”
Memaw looks at my feet “Shoes?”
I look at the sparkly red polish on my toes “Nope.”
Memaw nods. “I had one of the boys brush the tall rocks so there shouldn’t be any berry thorns on that path but those brambles grow everywhere so please try to avoid stepping on sharp things; getting those out of your feet is a hassle when you're yowling. Oh, do you know where your cousin is this fine morning?” She must be slightly tired because her accent is back to mosty southern.
I thought back to my morning with Abby but it was mostly a blur before the coffee. “I think she said something about fish? Or possibly fishing. Maybe the lake?”
Memaw looks in the direction of the lake, though we can’t see it from this angle. “Hmmm. I’m sure she’ll be fine, but I may send one of the boys down there to dismantle the pudding cannons. We’ve been so focused on this month’s races that I haven't had them finish taking apart everything from last month. Are you ready for your trip to Mexico?”
I shake my head. “One race at a time. Let’s get past the parking garage before I worry about packing my swimsuit.”
Memaw raises her eyebrows. “It’s in Mexico City.”
“Right? Crazy!” I nod.
She exhales. “I’m sure the hotel has a pool.”
I cock my head. “Wait. Why can’t I go in the ocean?”
She closes her eyes for a moment. “Bless your heart, they taught you nothing in that public school. Mexico City is in the mountainous middle of Mexico. It isn’t on the coast. There will be no ocean. But there should be a pool.”
“Oh.” Is all I manage to say.
Memaw pats me on the shoulder before continuing on into the house. I take a big breath before continuing out the door to the recently cleaned off boulders that form the tall rocks path to my favorite berry bushes.
I climb the four feet to the top of the tall rocks and take a deep breath of the mountain air; because these mountains are a non-tropical rainforest, the summer always smells of wet earth and live evergreens. I push out the breath slowly, shoving out all my concerns for the upcoming race with the air. I wasn’t the nervous, anxious me now. I was the wilder version; more in touch with my senses. I relished the feel of the cold, uneven, and rough stones against my shoe-less feet. I could feel the parts of the stone that had been brushed versus those that still had a little lichen left on top. The excitement I felt for walking along the foot wide tall stones was different from the thrill of watching Abby drive through my grandmother's course. Heights had never scared me per say but I did feel a little something being almost twice as tall. I took a moment to enjoy the feeling.
The high pitched screeching of nearby baby cardinals returned me to the now so I continued on to the first berry bush on my list. The berries look, as a whole, under ripe. Most will need more time to reach their potential but several look good enough to eat and perhaps half of those make it into my berry bucket.
A twig snaps behind me. I turn with a growl. There are real bears in these woods but most can be chased off with a growl and a charge. Insead it’s one of my grandma’s boys, well men about my age but she calls them her boys. I don’t actually know either of their names but I swallow my growl and try to seem friendly. This is the one with eyes the color of winter honey and hair the color of several types of trees... with enough muscle on his frame to pull himself into one. The other, I think, is blond.
He comes closer and smiles. “Hi. I’m not interrupting your berry picking am I?”
I look at the bucket and hope my chin isn’t stained. “Oh. I’m about finished with this bush. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Britney.”
He nods. “Yes. Your grandma mentioned. Also that you’re single.”
I will kill her. I don’t care that it will get me sent to prison. It’ll be worth it. I can’t believe she would do this! Actually, yes. Yes, I could. “I recently got out of a relationship and... lost my job.. And … Now I live with my grandma. I think I need to take some time to find me before becoming a we again.”
His smile faded. “Oh. I’m sorry you lost your job. That can, for sure, be difficult. I didn’t mean to assume. I mean. Let‘s start again. Hi, I’d like to be your friend.” He holds out his hand angled up to reach me on the tall path.
I smile. “Hi, I’d like a friend. I’m Britney… again. I still don’t know your name.” I bend down to shake his hand.
His smile is back. “Right. Yes. My name. Your grandma calls me Forest and I think your uncle has given up on calling me anything else. You’re welcome to call me Forest too.” He lets go of my hand.
I stand up but feel weird being taller than him. “Oh, ok. It’s nice to meet you, Forest. I’d better get going.” I point behind me and take a few steps further down the tall path.
He nods. “Nice to meet you too, Britney. See you around.” and with that he turns towards the house, walking away through the trees.
I hold a breath and take two steps towards the next berry bush. Two steps and I find a bramble covering the tall rocks the painful way. I hiss as I raise my right foot and look down to see the branch stuck to the bottom of my foot by thorns. I look back towards the house. I bend down and pull the branch out from the arch of my foot but I see some dark dots stuck in there that are probably broken off thorns. Damn. It’s a five minute walk normally and this will be a very uncomfortable walk back with an ‘I told you so’ waiting at the end. Better get started.
My foot is unhappy. I try my best to walk on my heel but the movement still bumps it. I finally come in view of the house and see Abby is coming from the walkway that leads to the lake. “Abby. Oh, Dearest Cousin! Oh, Answer-to-my-prayers.” I extend a hand out to her and she walks faster towards me.
When she gets closer she reaches up to help me down the four foot drop to the ground. “Blackberry plants have stems with ridges and their thorns are thicker than the sharp but thin black raspberry thorns.”
“I know. I know. But I can’t feel the stone with my feet trapped in shoes. I wanted the connection. Is there a way to get the thorns out without memaw finding out?”
She raises her eyebrow at me.
I huff a breath. “Well, let’s at least try to get one past her. Did you have a good time fishing?”
She smiles the largest smile I have seen from her since we worked at the zoo. “I caught a fish and his name is Forest.”