Clover Blue

by Eldonna Edwards

  I look up to thank Goji again, but he’s gone.

  * * *

  Sunny whimpers and cries next to my bed for a long time. I tried to leave him in the box but he wouldn’t quiet down. Luckily Coyote is out on one of his night walks. There’s no way I can sleep so I finally let him curl up next to me under the covers. Goji says I need to train him to sleep by himself because he’ll grow too big to carry up the tree house ladder. But I can’t stand to hear him cry. He probably misses his mother and the other puppies in the litter. Mrs. Fuller told me that people drop unwanted pets in the country all the time, thinking farmers will take them in.

  I start to wonder about my own first family again. I wonder if I cried, too, those first nights after I came to SFC. Was I lost when they adopted me or did someone dump me on the family? I have no memories from that first year, let alone any recollection of my parents or possible siblings. Sometimes I hear or smell something that reminds me of something that I can’t name. Like when we first got the goats their baah-ing sounded so familiar, like a bell ringing in my chest. Or that time we were so far behind on the laundry we took our dirty clothes to the Laundromat and I couldn’t stop sniffing the box of powdered detergent because the smell was so comforting. The sister-mothers had to pry it out of my hands to pour into the washing machines. I love my life here. But what if I was meant to be with my first family? And what if they’re still looking for me?

  * * *

  I wake to Sunny licking my feet and crawl backward under the covers to nuzzle him. He yawns and licks my nose, smothering me in puppy breath. “Hey, boy, how you doing?”

  The smallest bits of light are just starting to peek through the branches outside my window. Coyote is back in the room, snoring as usual. It’s cold and I don’t want to leave the warmth of my bed but I’m sure Sunny has to pee. I set him on the newspaper inside the box next to my mattress and he immediately starts yelping again.

  “Shhhh!” I wrap a blanket around my shoulders like a cape and climb down the ladder with Sunny cupped inside my flannel shirt. As soon as I set him down he pees, squatting like a girl. I take him with me to a nearby tree and lift my leg to pee. “Like this,” I say.

  I hear a giggle behind me. “What in the world are you doing, Superman?”

  “Harmony! Don’t sneak up on me like that. You scared the crap out of me.” I pick up Sunny and tuck him under my arm.

  She laughs and points to the lump under my blanket. “Can I hold him?” Harmony opens her hands under my shirt and I let Sunny flop into her arms.

  “He’s so cute I could scream!”

  “Don’t. You’ll wake everyone. Plus you know we’re not supposed to talk before sun salutation. Why are you up so early anyway?”

  “Same reason you are.” She presses her cheek against Sunny’s back and smiles.

  We head toward the kitchen to find something to hold us over until after group yoga. Willow and Wave show up as we’re looking through the shelves. They’re always the first to wake and do their own routines before the family joins together. Willow kindles the coals in the wood stove with some sticks and sets a kettle on for tea. She spoons leaves into a hunk of gauze and twists the top. Wave squats by the firebox and lightly blows until the fire roars.

  I point at the jar of goat milk on the table and then at Sunny. Willow shakes her head and motions toward the station wagon, then cups her hand and pretends to eat out of it.

  Harmony follows me toward the car to get the dogfood. “Let’s feed him inside the car.” She rubs her hands together.

  “It’s freezing out here.”

  “Shhh!”

  “Oh, for crying out loud. Nobody can hear us way over here. Besides, it’s a stupid rule.”

  She sets Sunny between our feet as we slide in and close the door. “Man, it’s so cold I can see my breath!” She zips her coat and pulls up the hood.

  “It’ll warm up soon.”

  “Ha! You talked! You know it’s a dumb rule.”

  “I was just trying to be respectful out there. You should be, too.”

  I tear open the bag of dog food and pour a handful of kibble on the floor. Harmony shivers and snuggles closer to me. I spread my blanket across both our laps while Sunny finishes eating. When he starts to whimper, Harmony lifts him and strokes his floppy ears. “He’s so soft. You could make earmuffs out of these.”

  “Gross.”

  “Kidding!” She kisses the puppy on the forehead and he licks her face. “Why do you think he did it?”

  “Did what?”

  “Gave you a puppy.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Goji likes you best.”

  “Does not.”

  She kicks at the back of the front seat, leaving muddy skid marks. “Yeah, you’re right. I think he likes whoever is the newest best. Do you see how he looks at Rain?”

  “Jane is the newest, not Rain.”

  Harmony makes a pfft noise. “Jane’s not one of us.”

  “Not yet.”

  “She won’t last. Trust me.”

  I open the ashtray on the door handle and peek inside. A stale roach and a penny. The top snaps closed. I pull my hand away and study the dent in my thumb. “Why’d you ask me about Rain?”

  Harmony draws a dog with her finger on the steamed-up window. “I don’t know. She’s not like the others, so quiet and sweet and squeaky clean.”

  “Rain doesn’t mind the dirt. She’s a hard worker.”

  “That’s what I mean. She’s such a good person. Like almost too perfect. Why in the world would her mom let her husband beat her?”

  “Maybe she didn’t know.”

  “She knew.” Harmony purses her lips. “She absolutely knew.”

  “Harmony?”

  “What?”

  “Did one of Gaia’s boyfriends hit you?”

  “No.”

  “Did they . . .”

  “I don’t want to talk about Ruth.”

  Harmony opens the broken door handle with a pair of pliers. “Come on. Let’s take Sunny for a walk before sun salutation.”

  We make a loop around the property, trudging over half-frozen grass now dripping with dew. Sunny follows close by our feet, racing to catch up if we get more than a few feet ahead of him. When we get back to the main camp everyone is waiting for us to start yoga. Goji is having Moon lead today. Our little brother stands facing us like a miniature yogi, his hands in prayer mudra as he bows. Goji moves behind Rain, whose cheeks are blushed from the cool air. He loosely circles her waist with his arms as he helps guide her into tree pose. She wobbles and nearly topples when her leg slides off her knee. Her cheeks go from rose to crimson.

  Goji steadies her, then moves his hands to warm her face. “Better?” he whispers, breaking his own no-talking rule.

  Harmony nudges me and makes a big-eyed face. “Told you so,” she mouths.

  * * *

  Harmony was also right about Stardust Jane. After lunch I spot her heading up the driveway toward the road wearing the flashy clothes and jewelry she arrived in. I follow quietly behind her. She stops suddenly and without turning says, “You can walk with me but you can’t sneak around behind me. That’s just rude.”

  I jog up next to her and she starts walking again. “How did you know I was there?” I’m pretty sure she couldn’t hear me because, one, I was being really quiet and because, two, her jingly jangly things would make it nearly impossible.

  “I sensed you.”

  “Are you really psychic?”

  She smiles. “We all are. Some of us are just more tuned in.”

  “You mean like intuition, right?”

  “You can call it that. The universe gives us all kinds of tools. Tarot, a map on our palms, our sixth sense.” She waves her hands toward the sky. “The stars and planets.”

  I study the lines on my palm. “Can you really read people’s futures?”

  “I can read people.” She turns and walks backward, facing me. “You crave knowledge. You
like it here but you’re curious about the world. You have a crush on a certain girl. And you’re starting to question the things you’ve been told all your life.” She stops when we reach the road. “How am I doing so far?”

  “Pretty good. Really good, actually.”

  She sticks out her thumb as a car comes into view. “You’re turning the bend between childhood and manhood, Blue. Listen to your gut. You need to be you, not what someone expects you to be or how you think you should be.”

  “Wait, are you leaving us?”

  The car whizzes past us. She drops her arm and hugs me. “I’m not leaving you. I’m returning to myself.” She laughs.

  “And possibly my old man. He broke it off with the new girl and begged me to come back.”

  She’s talking about the man who stole the joint out of her dress that day in front of the head shop. He gave me the creeps.

  “Do you love that guy?”

  She looks surprised by my question. I’m surprised by my question.

  Stardust scrunches her face a bit, then recovers. “I love everyone.”

  Another car approaches and she sticks out her thumb again. The car slows down and pulls over. I recognize the local preacher’s wife who buys veggies and pies from us at our roadside stand. She leans across the front seat and rolls down the passenger window. “It’s dangerous for a girl to hitchhike, don’t you know that?”

  Stardust flashes me a smile and opens the car door. “I do know that and I’m so grateful for you to offer a ride.” Stardust climbs in and closes the door. “Please tell everyone this nice lady gave me a ride to Sebastopol.”

  The driver gets a confused look on her face. “But I’m not headed to Sebastopol.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m so grateful to you, ma’am.”

  Stardust turns and blows me a kiss. “You be you,” she says. The last I see of Stardust is her bangled arm waving out the window as they drive out of sight.

  14

  Goji has asked us to “close the circle,” something we do when a person leaves for more than a day or two. We’ve closed the circle many times. Like when Wave and Willow go to monthlong yoga retreats or when Sirona visits family back east. We closed the circle every time Gaia left to chase the Grateful Dead. Today we’ll do it for Stardust Jane. The idea is not to close that person out, but to hold space for them inside the circle and inside our hearts.

  “Jane has left our home,” Goji says during sharing time. “But a part of her remains.”

  He lights a candle in the middle of the table, then reaches for Willow’s hand, to his right, and Sirona’s, to his left. The rest of us grasp each other’s hands in turn. “Let us send her our blessing and thank her for touching our lives with her spirit. She allowed herself to become vulnerable and we, in turn, opened our hearts to her. Thank you, Jane.”

  We lift our connected arms in unison, then release our hands, our fingers fluttering like bird wings to signify the letting go. “Thank you, Jane,” we all say.

  Doobie wipes a tear with his thumb and smiles. First he lost Gaia, who was mostly his old lady when she lived here. It doesn’t take psychic abilities to notice that he has a thing for Stardust Jane. They got high together a lot while she was here and I’d seen them coming and going from the Sacred Space sometimes, always smiling, eyes half closed. He’s convinced she’ll be back, but I have my doubts. She’s where she wants to be. And it isn’t here.

  Doobie twists his beard, then shakes his head, like a dog trying to rid itself of water. He slides a joint from his jacket pocket and lights it with a match. “She’ll be back.” He takes a long drag, coughs, then drags again and holds it in.

  Coyote reaches across the table and pats Doobie’s hand. After a quiet minute he says, “Brother, you gonna bogart that joint or pass it over?”

  Doobie laughs, spewing smoke, and hands it across the table. By the time it goes around the Olders and gets back to him it’s down to the size of a fingernail. He unclamps a roach clip from the rim of his floppy hat before taking the last pull. The joint pops and he jumps back.

  Doobie looks at me and frowns. “You need to work on sifting the seeds out, little brother. That’s harsh, man.”

  Sirona slaps him on the upper arm. “Yeah, well your breath is harsh. Blow the other way.”

  Everyone doubles over laughing at this, not because it’s funny but because they’re stoned. Harmony and I look at each other and I roll my eyes. She makes the cuckoo sign next to her head.

  It’s our turn for dishes so Harmony and I start clearing the table. I wash, Harmony dries, and Moon puts dishes away while Aura plays with empty pots on the floor of the kitchen area. Most of the Olders have disappeared inside the Sacred Space. Harmony throws a dish towel over her shoulder and dumps the dirty dishwater into a bush. She turns the bucket over to sit on top of it. “Wanna go spy on them?”

  “No way.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.”

  “Because why?”

  I glance toward the Sacred Space. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  She twists her towel and snaps it at me, hitting me squarely on my leg.

  “Ow!”

  “Sheesh, Blue. Don’t be such a goody-goody. It’ll be fun.”

  “No, it won’t. You even said it’s gross.”

  Aura starts banging on a pot with a wooden spoon. Her black curls fall over her face like a wild cub as she beats noisily on the bottom of the pan. I snatch the spoon away from her and she starts to wail.

  Harmony glares at me. “Nice going.”

  I squat down beside Aura. “Hey, sis, wanna help me feed Sunny?” She stops crying and nods her head, sniffling. I glance at Harmony. “You coming with us?”

  She spreads her damp towel on our homemade cutting board. “Okay. But it won’t be as fun as my idea.”

  Aura and I feed Sunny while we wait for Moon to finish putting away the silverware. Moon has a thing for order and carefully lays each spoon in the drawer so it nests inside the one below it. He does the same with the forks as best he can for mismatched utensils found at thrift stores. The knives he puts in a separate drawer with the blades and handles alternating so that they fit perfectly into their small compartment. When he’s done he slowly slides the drawer closed so that nothing will move out of order.

  I pat him on the back. “You ready, little man?” Moon got new glasses at the children’s wellness clinic in Santa Rosa last week. He pushes them up the bridge of his nose and nods.

  Sirona has never said who Moon’s father is. It could be any of the men, but with Moon’s green eyes and fair skin, it’s probably not Coyote. My guess is Wave. Ever since the day Moon got glasses I catch Willow looking at Moon, then Wave, then back to Moon. It’s a sad look.

  It’s already been dark for over an hour by the time we finish Sunny’s after-supper walk. I make sure to take us in the opposite direction of the Sacred Space so we don’t disturb the Olders. And also because I don’t want to hear the sounds. I’ve heard moans coming from Willow and Wave’s bedroom and other times when the Olders sneak into each other’s beds. It doesn’t bother me, but the idea of hearing them all at the same time freaks me out.

  We take turns at the outhouse, letting the girls go first. Moon and I wait outside. The sister-mothers recently put the kibosh on anyone peeing outside because it was starting to stink like piss. We’re allowed to take a leak outdoors only if we’re far away from the main grounds. And we’re not supposed to go in the same place twice.

  I glance toward the Sacred Space, its canvas walls glowing with speckles of candlelight. A Moody Blues tune drifts toward us. I’m pretty sure the Olders will be busy for a while.

  “Hey,” I say when Harmony comes out. “I just remembered I left my pack by the fence yesterday when Goji and I went for our walk.”

  Harmony wrinkles her nose. “It’s dark. Can’t it wait until morning? It’s not like the cows are going to steal it.”

  “I want the book inside it. I’ll be back bef
ore you know it.”

  She herds Moon and Aura toward the tree house ladder. “Come on, kids. Let’s go play hide-n-seek until Blue gets back.”

  I trot toward the fence, glancing backward until all three of them disappear up the steps before hooking a right down the path. I stop when I spot Goji and Rain standing in the doorway of the Sacred Space. I take a few steps closer and hide behind a tree where I can hear and see them more clearly.

  Goji lays a hand on Rain’s lower back. “You don’t have to join in. Just sit with me and observe the beautiful expression of love shown to each other.”

  He holds the curtain aside. Candles line the entire wall of the yurt. The Olders are gathered in the middle of the floor in a linked chain of oiled bodies. Each has their legs curled around the person in front of them massaging the next one’s back. Goji moves through the door, still holding the curtain for Rain. She peeks inside, then takes a timid step inside. Goji drops the curtain behind her.

  I think about running through the door and rescuing Rain. It’s a stupid thought. I’m not allowed in the Sacred Space. Plus it’s not like she didn’t go in on her own. Still, I’m uneasy. And a little jealous.

  I run as fast as I can to the fence and find my pack right where I left it. On the way back I nearly trip over Goji’s cat, who is coughing up a fur ball.

  “Gross, Ziggy!” He meows and curls himself around my leg. “You shouldn’t be out here. The coyotes will eat you in the dark.” I carry him to the front steps of Goji’s shack and set him down. “Go on back inside, Zig.” He sits and looks up at me, blinking. “I’m not supposed to . . .” I glance toward the Sacred Space. “Okay, maybe just this once.” I fish the flashlight from the bottom of my pack and pick up Ziggy. I shine the light toward the foot of Goji’s bed and Ziggy’s favorite blanket, covered in his orange fur. I set him on the bed and pat him on the head. “There you go, old man.”

  As I turn to leave, the beam of light lands on Goji’s desk. I recognize the manila envelope from our recent day at the co-op sitting on top of a pile of books and papers. I start for the door, then tiptoe toward the desk and pick up the envelope. It’s addressed to Mr. David Kagen and it has weird stamps on it. I resist the urge to peek inside. The top desk drawer is slightly open, exposing what looks like a half-eaten Zagnut candy bar. I nervously pull the drawer open farther. Beyond the rolling papers and a book of matches I hit the jackpot. There must be half a dozen Zagnut bars along with a pack of Juicy Fruit chewing gum.