Clover Blue

by Eldonna Edwards

  We finish in mountain pose, pausing an extra beat before the sister-mothers gather around Rain, praising her with quiet hugs and long stares into her aqua-blue eyes. As they lead her toward the kitchen to start breakfast, Rain glances back at Goji. I know that look. We all know that look.

  25

  May 1978

  Wave looks nervous but happy as he ties a surfboard to the roof of the truck camper. Lotus talked him into going surfing and we’re all coming along to cheer him on. The sister-mothers packed a huge picnic lunch. Sirona gave Moon and Aura pans and spoons to make a sandcastle. I’m bringing a Frisbee I got at a yard sale the last time we were in Sebastopol.

  With the camper attached there’s not much fresh air so it’s hot and stuffy in the back of the truck. My leg keeps sticking to Harmony’s leg. She leans over and tugs at a blond hair below my knee.

  “Whoa, you’re getting furry.”

  I pull my leg away.

  She crosses her bare leg over one knee to inspect her own leg. “At least yours are blond. I’m getting brown ones. I hope I don’t end up looking like a gorilla.” Harmony grabs my hand and puts it on her leg. “See?”

  None of the women at SFC shave so I’m used to being around hairy legs. The downy hairs are barely noticeable against Harmony’s tan skin. Her leg feels smooth to me.

  She knocks my hand away. “That tickles.”

  I spend the rest of the ride trying not to look at Harmony’s legs. Fortunately, it doesn’t take long to get to Bodega Bay. As soon as we’re parked, everyone but Wave runs down to the ocean while he changes into his wetsuit. We wade into the chilly water at the edge of the breaking surf. I carry Aura on my shoulders to keep her dry. Sunny races into the water, barking at the waves as they chase him back to the beach.

  With his board under one arm, Wave slowly walks toward us. He stops when he reaches the water. Willow zips up the back of his wetsuit and kisses him on the neck. He smiles, but it’s a lukewarm smile. Lotus puts a hand on his shoulder and tries to make eye contact with him. “Stare your fears straight in the face. Otherwise they’ll own you the rest of your life.”

  Wave barely nods, just keeps looking straight out to sea, as if frozen in place.

  “You’ve got this, brother,” Goji says. “And we’ve got you.”

  Goji’s words seem to be the thing that trips the switch. Wave takes off his glasses and hands them to Willow before racing into the surf. He lays on the board, paddling like he’s on his way to the other side of the ocean. A few other surfers bob in the water on either side of him. When the next big one rolls in, he paddles to match the speed of the wave and jumps up to surf position. He wobbles unsteadily before the board shoots out from under him and up into the air.

  Moon shields his eyes with his hand. “Where’d he go?”

  It feels like forever before Wave pops up and swims toward his board. He paddles out beyond the break again. He gets turned around just in time and then he’s on his feet again as another big wave comes in. We all hold our breath as the hump of water builds and builds. But this time he stays upright, catching the curl of water at just the right moment. He sails toward us with his arms to his side, tipping this way and that as he glides toward the shore.

  We all let out our breaths in a collective “whoo-hoo!” as he triumphantly punches the air with his fist. He runs toward us and shakes his hair out like a wet dog. The sun catches the droplets on his tanned face and his bright white teeth glow when he grins. He wraps his arms around Willow and Lotus. The rest of us throw our arms around the three of them. He kisses Willow, then turns to Lotus and kisses her, too. Her grin is almost as big as his.

  Wave breaks the hug and races back toward the water like he’s being chased. We watch him take a few more spills and catch a couple of good rides. After a bit, Moon and I walk farther up the shore to look for shells together. Along with some smaller shells and a couple of polished pieces of sea glass, I find a sand dollar completely intact. I wrap it in a bandana and tuck it into my shorts pocket.

  Sirona waves to us from where the others have spread out a blanket and filled it with food. We gorge ourselves on apples, nuts, and peanut butter sandwiches, then spread out lazily in the sand. The water is still too cold to swim in without a wetsuit. Harmony is wearing a bikini she bought at the thrift store. It’s weird how seeing girls in bathing suits is more of a turn-on than seeing naked people all these years. I roll onto my belly to avoid embarrassment.

  Harmony kicks at my leg with her bare foot. “Let’s go build a sand castle.”

  “Maybe in a bit,” I say.

  She frowns. “Why are you being such a dud?”

  I just shrug.

  “Be that way.” She walks off with the pans and spoons. I prop my chin in my hands and watch Moon and Aura chase Sunny up and down the beach at the water’s edge. Harmony scoops sand into the pans and dumps it out in a circle of humps. The Youngers drop next to her, patting the pan-shaped lumps into smooth mounds.

  When he’s finally tired out Wave takes a break from surfing to join us. He stands at the edge of the blanket, dripping water all over us, and plunges his board into the sand like a tall tombstone. “I’m starving!”

  Sirona jumps up and wraps her arms around Wave. “I’m so proud of you!”

  Willow throws Sirona an odd look, but Sirona doesn’t see it. Wave definitely sees it. He squats next to Willow and kisses her on the neck. She hands him a sandwich and he wolfs it down, then takes off running back toward the ocean with the surfboard under his arm.

  Willow watches him disappear in the water. “I think we’ve created a monster.

  Lotus winks at her. “I think we killed the monster.”

  * * *

  By the time we load into the truck to go home, the sun has baked most of us into burnt toast. Harmony’s brown hair looks a shade lighter against her tanned face and the humidity from being at the ocean has made it wavier. Her mom claimed to be one-eighth Cherokee. Harmony definitely looks like she could be an Indian princess.

  Harmony catches me staring. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Just stuff.”

  “Good stuff or bad stuff?”

  I grin. “All good.”

  Willow cooks a celebratory curry with rice and flat bread. Everybody seems especially happy tonight. Maybe it’s the exciting day at the beach or maybe it’s just one of those days when everything feels right. Whatever the reason, the whole family is in a really good mood. As we mop up the last of our curry with the bread, Goji rings a small bell, signaling a special announcement. Everyone falls silent.

  “My beautiful brothers and sisters,” he starts. “I need for you to open your ears and your hearts. I’ve spent a lot of time meditating on this and I believe it’s time to heal a wound that has prevented our family from experiencing wholeness.” He looks from face to face, with a pained smile. “I’ve been communicating with our sister Gaia. She sincerely desires to heal this deep wound, and so do I. She’s requested a visit to Saffron Freedom Community.”

  Harmony stiffens next to me as Goji makes eye contact with Willow to start the voting.

  “Yes,” Willow says after a long moment.

  “Several more yesses echo around the table. When Goji gets to Lotus she says, “I always liked that girl.” She turns to Harmony. “Your mom used to remind me a little of myself at that age.”

  Goji looks at me. “Yes,” I say. He turns to face Harmony, who, just moments ago was laughing so hard she nearly choked on her tea. Now her mouth is set firm, her eyes unblinking.

  “Beloved sister, I know that you have suffered the pain of abandonment, but it is suffering that cracks us open so that we can let in the light. I beg you, please, help this family heal.”

  I expect Harmony to dart from the table and make for the woods or the tree house, but she stays put. And then she shocks us all by slowly nodding her head. “Okay,” she says.

  Goji smiles. “Okay?”

  She nods again. Half the others wip
e tears from their eyes. I’m one of them. I grab Harmony’s hand under the table and squeeze it. She doesn’t squeeze back but she doesn’t let go either.

  Goji hands Lotus a slip of paper with numbers on it. “Do you think Charlie would let you use the phone to call our lost sister?”

  26

  June 1978

  When we stop to pick up the mail in Freestone, our box is jammed full. Sirona hands Lotus a fancy envelope with familiar handwriting. Mr. Fuller stopped coming around after seeing Lotus and Doobie holding hands by the fire pit about a month after she moved in. I thought he’d given up but he’s taken his efforts to win Lotus back to the next level. His new tack has been to entice Lotus with tickets to plays and art shows that he mails to our P.O. box.

  Sirona leans over Lotus’s shoulder. “What is it this time?”

  Lotus opens the envelope. “A catalog of art classes at Berkeley.” She slides an extra sheet of paper from inside the brochure. “And an enrollment application.”

  “You should apply!”

  Lotus shoves the envelope in her purse. “Don’t be silly. I’m too old to get into the program.”

  Sirona touches Lotus’s arm. “No you’re not. You of all people should know that. How many times have you encouraged every one of us to follow our dreams?”

  “Bah! I’ve made peace with not going back to school.” But as soon as Sirona looks away Lotus disappears down the dairy aisle of the Freestone Country Store to read the catalog more thoroughly.

  Sirona thumbs through the rest of the mail pile. “Mostly junk. Let’s go.”

  The store owner calls after us. “Wait, there’s a package for one of you. I couldn’t fit it in your slot.” She bends over behind the counter to retrieve a box. She reads the label, then smiles at Harmony. “It’s for you, sweetie.”

  Harmony stares at the box without changing her expression.

  The store lady shakes it at her. It makes a jingly sound. “Well, here, aren’t you going to take it?”

  Harmony snatches the box and heads to the car, letting the screen door bang behind her. I chase after Harmony and join her in the backseat of the station wagon.

  “I’m not opening it,” she says before I can ask.

  “Can I?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “Okay,” I say. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  * * *

  The minute we pull in the driveway, Harmony hightails it for the tree house, probably to hide her package.

  Rain and I are on ash duty so we head for the fire pit. Every week we shovel the ashes and add them to the compost. I water down the ash bed with the hose so they won’t fly back in our faces as we work. Rain and I take turns stabbing our shovels into the pile and tossing the soggy ashes into the wheelbarrow. When it’s full, Rain starts to roll the wheelbarrow.

  “Let me take it,” I say.

  Rain pushes a lock of hair out of her face, leaving a smudge of gray on her cheek. In her tattered apron and mud boots she looks a little like Cinderella. “I can do it.”

  I grab the handles of our rusty wheelbarrow and smile at her. “You can take the next load.”

  Rain walks alongside me as we make our way toward the compost pile next to the garden. When we get to the edge of the last row of squash, I flip the wheelbarrow to dump the ashes and start raking them into the mixture of leftover veggies and chicken poop.

  Rain stands with her hands on her hips, watching me. “Do you like living here, Blue?”

  I stop raking to consider my answer. I’ve learned that when my sisters ask questions, they aren’t necessarily looking for the truth as much as wanting you to agree with them.

  “That’s a strange question. Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. Seems like a guy your age might rather be in school, playing sports, meeting girls, going to the movies. You know, normal things.”

  “This is what I know, so it’s normal for me. I’m not interested in sports or sitting in a classroom.”

  She smiles. “You left out meeting girls. You’re such a handsome guy. They’d go gaga for you.”

  I feel myself blush.

  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just feel like I can be completely real with you.”

  “What about you, Rain? You could be out working at a regular job, meet a guy, get married, have a family.”

  It’s her turn to blush. “I suppose I could.”

  “But you’ve already met someone, right?”

  “Blue . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think the sisters resent me? For being with Goji, I mean.”

  I drop my rake and right the wheelbarrow. “Nah. They seem happy for you. For him too.”

  “But they’re used to sharing. I don’t want to share. I don’t want to be with the other men here in that way.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you about that. I did ask Coyote about the Sacred Space one time and he said nobody has to do anything they don’t want to do with anyone. He told me that it used to be kind of a free-for-all but then people started pairing off and it just kind of settled out. That sometimes they’d be together in the space but they don’t trade off like in the old days.”

  “What about you? Do you approve of me, of . . . ?”

  “Goji?”

  She nods. “He’s a good person, right?”

  I’m not sure how to respond. I’ve had mixed feelings about Goji ever since reading those newspaper articles. Everything I believed about him has slowly started to unravel. But I don’t want to break Rain’s heart, so I give her a nonanswer.

  “He’s really smart and always has a way of explaining things from a different perspective. And he’s super peaceful. I’ve never seen him get mad. Ever.”

  She takes a step forward and kisses me on the cheek, and there it is again, that wonderful smell beneath the smoke and ash. “Thank you for being so open with me.”

  Flustered, I turn back toward the wheelbarrow and accidentally step on the front of my rake, popping the handle straight up and into my forehead. It makes a loud clunk when it nails me between the eyes.

  “Blue!”

  I lean forward for a second, holding my eye and wincing. “I’m okay.” I quickly stand up with only one eye open and grab the handles of the empty wheelbarrow.

  She wrestles it away from me. “That had to hurt.” She kisses me again, this time on the spot that’s already welling up into a big knot on my brow. “Let’s go see what Sirona has that we can put on that.”

  As I follow behind her, I can’t help but think about how much she must be missed by those she left behind, what they might say if they could see her now. And I wonder how bad it must have been for her to decide to leave.

  * * *

  Harmony doesn’t let me open the package until after evening meditation. She comes into my room while Doobie is still downstairs and tosses it onto my mattress. I look at the box, then up at her.

  “Go ahead.”

  Before she can change her mind I rip through the tape and brown paper, once again being careful to preserve the address in case Harmony changes her mind about writing Gaia back. I pull a wadded-up newspaper out of the cardboard box before reaching inside to retrieve Harmony’s gift.

  “It’s a tambourine.”

  Harmony stands next to the bed with her arms folded across her chest. I jump onto the mattress and jingle it above my head.

  She rolls her eyes. “It’s stupid.”

  I drop the tambourine to my side. “Aw, you hurt my feelings.” “Not you, the tambourine. Why would she send me that?” I hold it out to her. “Because she misses you?”

  She shakes her head. “You keep it.”

  “Oh come on. She misses you. Look, she even signed it.” I trace my hand over the writing. “Wait. Oh, man, you’ve got to see this.”

  Harmony doesn’t budge.

  “Why are you being like this? She’s coming for a visit. You gave your blessing.”

  “I said it was okay for her to v
isit but I still hate her.”

  “No you don’t. You’re just mad at her. Come look at this.”

  Harmony drops onto her knees next to me and silently reads the signature.

  I grin. “Jerry freakin’ Garcia! She was telling the truth.”

  Harmony rocks back to sit on her feet. “She probably wrote that herself.”

  I shove her backward onto the bed and start tickling her. “Would you lighten up? I’m supposed to be the serious one, remember?”

  She kicks at me, trying not to laugh but she can’t help herself. I grab her flailing arms and hold them together at the wrists. She’s laughing so hard she starts crying, except it isn’t funny anymore and she’s crying for real. I let go of her arms.

  Her bottom lip quivers. “I do miss her sometimes.”

  It hurts to see the pain in her face and not be able to fix it. “I know,” I say.

  And then without thinking I kiss her. Not like a sister. Like a girl. She doesn’t move when I break away. Our faces hover just inches away from each other.

  She reaches up and lightly touches the bulge on my forehead. “What happened to your head?”

  “I got into a fight with a rake.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “A little.”

  She lifts her head and kisses the bruise. The feelings in my head move into the rest of my body. I want to kiss her again but I’m afraid of breaking this spell.

  “You should go back to your room,” I whisper.

  She nods but doesn’t move.

  I climb off of her legs. Harmony rolls off the bed and stands. I hand her the tambourine. She holds it against her chest, staring at me in a half-child, half-woman kind of way.

  “Night, Blue.”

  She backs slowly out of the doorway. I listen to the jingle of tiny cymbals as she tiptoes down the hall.

  27

  July 1978

  Willow and Wave cleaned out the teepee and patched the leaky spots with duct tape and garbage bags. The outside is ugly but the sisters have gone crazy on the inside. A small stove sits on a brick platform smack-dab in the middle with a pipe leading up through the opening at the top of the teepee. Everything else looks like something out of those Arabian Nights fairy tales with tapestries attached to the canvas walls and mosquito netting draped over a bed smothered in colorful pillows. Lotus donated a colorful oriental rug that she took out of her house while Mr. Fuller was in town. Everything else came from thrift stores or yard sales, right down to the ceramic bodhisattva on top of a wooden crate. I half expect Willow to come dancing through the doorway wearing finger cymbals and a veil.