by C L Lassila
Refreshed but chilled she grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her body. Then she sat on the sand and watched as Calix ran up to her. He knelt in front of her and she opened her blanket, wrapping it around him as he pushed her back onto the sand. His mouth met hers. She opened her legs to him and felt his hard penis push into her. Calix looked into her eyes as he thrust into her and she lifted her hips to take him in deeply. With every inch of his erection filling her, he held still. She lifted her head to find his mouth but he pulled away as he thrust forward. A moan escaped her lips.
“Fuck me,” she sighed.
He held still, then thrust deeper into her once more.
“Fuck me,” she repeated.
Unable to control his arousal any longer, he pumped into her. Adelaide bit into his shoulder and moved her body beneath his until they both reached orgasm. They then lay side by side wrapped in the blanket, happy and relaxed, until it was time to go home.
As they were walking through the woods, moving in the direction of the farm, Darwin suddenly froze and pricked up his ears. Adelaide and Calix stopped as well, to see if they could discover what had gotten his attention. There was a rustling of leaves as a partridge flushed, and thinking that was what the dog had heard, they started walking again. They had gone a bit further when Adelaide heard a faint thud off in the distance. She stopped and listened. It was a sound that she knew, the sound of an ax cutting into a tree.
Against Calix’s wishes, Adelaide began to walk in the direction of the sound.
“What’s the point, Adelaide?” Calix said as she pushed ahead.
“I just want to see where they are doing the logging,” she replied.
They headed in the direction of town, the sound growing louder. They didn’t have to walk far before they could see a clearing that had been made in the forest up ahead of them. When they reached the edge of the clearing they stopped and watched as a group of young men, laughing and joking, worked to bring down a towering pine tree. Lying on the ground were a half dozen tall trees that had already been felled.
Adelaide turned around to head back to the farm.
“You were right, Calix,” she said. “What’s the point?”
When they reached the farm Adelaide went in to make supper. She was quiet while they ate, the sight of the cut trees having dampened her spirits. When the meal was done she took Darwin back outside. Calix joined them. Adelaide could never decide whether dawn of dusk was her favorite time of day. But it was indeed a fine evening. The biscuits from their afternoon at the lakeshore remained uneaten in her bag. After breaking them into pieces, she tossed them out onto the lawn for the crows. Most of the family flew down to quickly grab their share, the white crow, now old enough to eat on his own, amongst them. Adelaide noticed that its eyes were blue, the same color as its siblings. One crow remained in the tree, keeping watch while the others ate.
Adelaide sat down on the back steps. The scent of the milkweed hung heavy in the air. The sky had turned the perfect shade of blue, a color that it wore every night when the sun reached a certain point on its journey toward the horizon. Several thin clouds, painted pink and orange decorated the otherwise cloudless sky, like random strokes of a paint brush on a pure blue canvas. Darwin, exhausted by the days walk, had fallen asleep in his spot on the porch.
Calix drew water from the well and filled the trough for the chickens. The four legged chicken had come to Adelaide in the hopes of getting some kernels of corn. She reached into her pocket and extended her hand offering the bird its treat. Calix sat beside her on the steps as the chicken ate from her hand.
“I want you to teach me how to use the rifle,” Adelaide said softly.
The chicken finished its meal and went to join the others.
“I can do that,” Calix replied.
They sat and watched a hummingbird maneuver around the milkweed blossoms, getting its last food of the day.
“I can’t leave here, you know,” she said.
“I know that,” Calix replied.
One of the crows, hopping across the lawn began to play with a feather that it discovered on the ground.
“Jonas has no interest in the farm,” Adelaide continued, looking over at Calix. “If I wasn’t here he would sell it and take a place in town. He’s interested in business not the land.”
The stars had begun to show themselves in the darkening sky. Adelaide looped her arm through Calix’s and rested her head against his shoulder.
“I’m not going anywhere either, Adelaide.” Calix said.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
They sat side by side on the steps for some time, enjoying the aroma of the milkweed. The moon joined the myriad of stars in the now black sky. They heard from somewhere out in the forest, the hoot of an owl.
As Adelaide sat quietly she thought about the trickster god. There was another hoax that he perpetrated. He convinced people that paradise was in the afterlife. And so they lived hoping to achieve that paradise beyond death, while at the same time plundering the paradise that existed all around them. For truly in nature lay paradise.
Adelaide had found paradise. It was here. And it was home.
Somewhere off in the trees, the frogs began to sing.
Nature cannot be replicated by man. Its complexity is beyond human understanding.
