“I thank you God for most this amazing day; for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky: and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes,” he said softly.
“e.e. cummings,” Sylvia stated, rather than asked. She remembered reading that poem in a literature class.
The Green Man nodded. Sylvia thought about the verse for a moment.
“Leaping greenly spirits of trees,” she murmured, “the blue true dream of sky…” She closed her eyes for a moment and suddenly she thought she knew what the Green Man was talking about.
“Are you talking about the trees breathing?” she asked him.
“Tell me more,” he asked gently.
“Well,” Sylvia began, “when I was little, I used to see the trees breathing. I never really talked to anyone about it, but I used to draw it in my pictures. I thought everyone could see them. My Mom just acknowledged it as kid art with the colors, but when I was in elementary school when my art teacher ridiculed my drawing in front of the whole class because I had colored the dancing light around the trees. Everyone laughed and made fun of me. I haven’t been able to see it since.” There was a wistful tone to her voice.
“Some people call them auras. You have the gift of being able to see plant and tree auras, but eventually you will be able to see the life force in all things. Concentrate,” the Green Man instructed. “Look at the trees across the water and concentrate.”
Sylvia looked and looked. “It’s no use,” she said despondently, “It’s gone.”
“You don’t seem to understand,” the Green Man insisted. “It’s part of you. You have the gift. Concentrate,” he urged her.
Sylvia looked. Twilight was falling. She looked at the tree line. She thought she saw a faint shadow at the top of the tree line. She looked back at the Green Man questioningly who nodded in approval.
“It’s a start,” he said. “Keep your eyes open,” he suggested.
The Green Man vanished in his usual fashion. Sylvia sat and pondered what he had said. Tree auras! It sounded absurd, but she remembered how she used to watch the light dance around trees and plants as a child. Occasionally she had seen colors around people as well. She remembered squealing with delight at Gran and pointing saying ‘rainbow, rainbow.’ Gran had laughed and scooped her up and gave her a huge hug as she danced her around. She remembered how she thought everyone saw it. She wondered if Gran saw the auras. She knew Gran had some knowledge about it from her supportive reaction to Sylvia crying out about a rainbow around her grandmother. But something else was nagging at her. It was something that Gran had told her. She couldn’t remember and wished she had not had wine on such a hot day. She rubbed her head and stared at the shoreline more until the trees blended with the dark night sky. Her head ached.
That night she dreamed that Gran was talking to her. In the dream Gran felt so real and so close that Sylvia wanted to reach out and touch her. Sylvia looked into Gran’s eyes. Gran told her everything would be all right. She told her that the Green Man would help her. She told her not to worry. Others joined her in the dream, smiling at Sylvia, welcoming her. Gran hugged her. Sylvia could feel her warm arms around her holding her and comforting her like she did when she was little. Sylvia woke up holding the pillow tightly. The dream had been so real. She wondered who the people were who crowded in with Gran. And then she thought of Gran as tears coursed silently down her face. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Her grief seemed to be leaking out of her in a slow trickle. In the dream Sylvia had been able to see, hear, and feel Gran’s presence. Waking up to the empty room and empty house make her feel hollow inside. The lonely hole in her heart would take some getting used to. Sylvia went to grab some tissues and blew her nose loudly.
Chapter 10
In one salutation to thee, my, God,
Let all my senses spread out
And touch this world at thy feet.
--Rabindranath Tagore
Sylvia wondered if her mother was as emotional about Gran’s death as she was or did her mother’s crying the day of the funeral satiate her grief. Sylvia couldn’t get back to sleep. After tossing and turning for more than an hour, Sylvia got up and looked at the darkness outside. She made her way to the kitchen by feel, not wanting to put on the bright light, and put on coffee by the night light on the stove. She sat gloomily with her first cup staring out at the darkness from the couch in the living room with her legs tucked beneath her. There were only a few sparse lights twinkling across the water. She sat for a long time pondering absolutely nothing. Padding her way to the study Sylvia got into her e-mail. Thurmont had sent the application. She filled it out, attached her resume and sent it back to the human resources department. Daylight finally came, the light sneaking quietly over the horizon. Sylvia went back to the living room and opened the French doors to let in the morning breeze. She sat with another cup of coffee thinking about her dream.
She must have dozed because she woke to knocking at the door. Sylvia didn’t know where she was for a moment. Then realizing that someone was knocking on her door, Sylvia woke up completely. She rushed out to the kitchen to see Marian’s worried face peering through the window.
“Marian!” Sylvia cried, “Come in! I’m sorry! I woke up very early this morning and then fell asleep on the couch. Just give me fifteen minutes – okay?”
“It’s all right, Syl,” Marian soothed her. “We’re not on a schedule.
Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll make us a fresh pot of coffee. This one,” she said, “looks a bit thick.”
Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief, rushed upstairs for a quick, quick shower and dressed and was back downstairs in 15 minutes as promised earlier.
“I’m still a little damp behind the ears, but I think I’m acceptable,” she said to Marian.
“You’re fine,” Marian assured her. “If you can wait on breakfast,” she continued, “I can take you to a place that has wonderful homemade cinnamon and sticky buns.”
“Sounds perfect,” Sylvia said. “Let’s go.”
Marian drove the country roads to Lancaster. They passed by picturesque farms and a few Amish buggies on the way. Sylvia stared out the window and the fields and windbreaks. Something was different. She focused not on the trees, but above and away. It was a strange way of looking at things, like looking out of the corner of her eye. There was a whitish light that hovered above the tree line. It was the tree’s breathing—the auras she had not seen since she was a child. She must have yelped or made a sound as Marian turned to her and asked, “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Sylvia said, but she continued to stare out at the horizon in amazement. “Wow!” she said under her breath.
Marian pulled into a grocery store parking lot and Sylvia turned to her, puzzled.
“Groceries?” she queried.
Marian chuckled. “This is the place I was telling you about. Wonderful baked goods and free coffee.”
Marian had chatted on the way about a fantastic grocery store, but Sylvia had politely nodded and concentrated on the trees rather than listen to Marian’s chatter. Now she felt a little guilty. They entered the store and Marian led Sylvia back to the bakery counter. Marian was correct, there were several varieties of luscious looking baked goods. Sylvia chose a bear claw covered in nuts and gooey white icing and Marian chose a cinnamon bun. In the front of the store, they poured themselves a cup of coffee, paid for their baked goods and were on their way to Lancaster again in just a few minutes.
“Delicious,” Sylvia said, biting into her bear claw filled with a butter, sugar and nut mixture. Sylvia refused to think of the calorie count in the pastry. It melted in her mouth leaving behind a buttery and nutty aftertaste.
“It’s a wonderful store,” Marian said. “The meats are premium and come right from the farm. They have an excellent butcher. I believe most of the vegetables are local as well. I should have brought a cooler and we could stop on our way back.”
&
nbsp; “Perhaps we can pick one up in Lancaster,” Sylvia suggested.
They arrived at the outlets at opening time. Buses were already starting to pull in.
“I haven’t been here in years,” Sylvia told Marian. “Sometimes Mom and Gran dragged me to the outlets for school or special holiday clothes. Mom makes a yearly trek for Christmas presents with some friends each October.”
“I thought you might want to check Ann Taylor, Coldwater Creek and Harve Bernard and some of the other designers for a suit,” Marian suggested.
They picked up a map of the outlets and an index and plotted a strategy. Traveling from store to store, Sylvia tried on a variety of clothes and shoes. It was fun and exhausting. Sylvia found a summer pantsuit with a long duster in a lightweight crepe. It was black and very dressy. Marian found a good ‘interview’ suit for her. She also insisted that Sylvia purchase a little black sheath dress with a matching jacket and a few other things.
After a couple of hours and several packages later, Sylvia thought their shopping trip had been a success.
“I’m starving,” Sylvia told Marian. “Let’s go and find lunch.”
Marian drove her to a small restaurant tucked away in the small town of Strasburg. It was in one of the lovely brick houses along the main street and slightly away from the tourist traffic.
They ordered sandwiches. Sylvia chose a roasted vegetable sandwich and it came on fresh focaccia bread with mozzarella and fresh basil leaves. Marian chose a chicken sandwich with baby spinach and pesto mayonnaise. The waitress brought them drinks while Sylvia looked at the antique furnishings.
While they were waiting for their food, Sylvia asked, “How did Owen’s first day go?”
“I think all right,” Marian answered her. “He had to fill out all of the entry paperwork and get settled. I haven’t seen him this nervous in a long time. Being out of academia is very different for him.”
“I just sent an application to Thurmont too,” Sylvia told Marian. “There is an available job as an assistant to the public information officer position.”
Marian raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” she commented.
“Well, there wasn’t much in the paper, and this looked interesting,” Sylvia told her. “I have the qualifications, I think. Also, I’m hoping Thurmont is doing a better job environmentally than it used to when you and Gran opposed their policies.”
“I see.” Marian said. “It sounds good. When did you apply?” she asked.
“I called yesterday,” Sylvia told her, “and they e-mailed me the application. I sent it off this morning along with my resume.”
“You sent it off this morning?” Marian asked remembering Sylvia had been asleep on the couch when she had arrived.
Sylvia explained that she couldn’t sleep and worked on it during the wee hours of the night before falling asleep on the couch at dawn. Their food came and Sylvia waited until the waitress had walked away before she continued.
“I had a very strange dream and it woke me up and then I couldn’t sleep,” Sylvia confessed. “I dreamed Gran was talking to me,” she hesitated a moment before continuing, “I thought I would put the time to good use, I guess.” She took a bite of her sandwich.
“What did Holly tell you?” Marian asked.
Sylvia wasn’t quite sure what to say to Marian. The auras, the Green Man, it all was a little too surreal still.
“Gran told me not to worry,” Sylvia finally said. “She said everything would be all right.”
“And it will,” Marian agreed nodding her head sagely.
“Have you read any of the books on the Green Man, yet?” Marian asked her.
“Yes!” Sylvia said gratefully. “They’re lovely. I’ll get them back to you soon.”
“No hurry,” Marian commented. “Did you find what you were looking for?” Marian asked.
“Yes and no,” Sylvia answered. “I learned a lot of history, but…” again she was at a loss for words on whether or not to confess she had met the Green Man.
“Sylvia,” Marian said gently. “I know he’s back.”
Sylvia nearly choked on her iced tea. “What?” she gasped and sputtered. “What did you say?”
“I said, I know the Green Man is back,” Marian told her again.
A great sense of relief washed over Sylvia.
“Then I’m not going crazy,” she said.
“No, not at all,” Marian assured her.
“I have so many unformed questions,” Sylvia said, “that I don’t know where to begin. Who is he? Why is he here?” she asked.
“I suspect he’s here because he’s been called in some way or there is some sort of crisis that he can assist with,” Marian said.
“Something a little bit like Captain Planet, I think,” Sylvia said more to herself than to Marian while she stirred her soda with her straw.
“Excuse me?” Marian asked.
“Sorry,” Sylvia apologized. “I think I was talking more to myself. Do you know the cartoon character Captain Planet?” she asked.
Marian shook her head and looked blank.
“It’s an old cartoon where five children work to save the earth from ecological destruction and the ultimate super hero is a large blue man with a cape, who comes to save the day,” Sylvia informed her. “Each of the children has a gift of some sort…” her voice trailed off.
“Interesting,” Marian said. “I suspect he’s a little like that. Be patient.”
“You know, I’m tired of being patient,” Sylvia flared with exasperation. “You’re telling me to be patient, Gran tells me to be patient, the Green Man tells me to be patient…what is it that you all want me to be patient about?”
Marian reached over to pat Sylvia’s hand but, the waitress came over to the table to offer them dessert. Sylvia pulled herself together and tried to quell the emotions.
“Chocolate, please,” Sylvia almost growled. “I want something with as much chocolate and sugar as you can muster. Please bring coffee too.” Exhaustion from her early awakening and shopping was setting in. Sylvia was feeling grumpy.
“I would like some carrot cake and coffee please,” Marian asked the waitress and she went away.
“I know you’re frustrated,” Marian told her patting her hand, “but I don’t know if I have any information to give to you. Like the children with Captain Planet, you must have a gift that can help the Green Man.”
She took Sylvia’s hand gently between hers. “I know that you walk with the rhythm of the earth. I can see it in your eyes—just like in Holly’s. You’ll discover your gift one day, but it may take an hour, a day, a year or a long, long time. It may take a lifetime.”
“What do you mean by that? By walking with the rhythm of the earth? That sounds pretty ‘out there,’” Sylvia questioned.
“Seeing and feeling the energy of the Earth,” Marian said simply. “Other than that, I’m not sure I can put it into words.”
The waitress brought their coffee and went to get their desserts. She brought Marian’s carrot cake and brought a piece of a dense chocolate cake that sat on swirls raspberry sauce and was topped with whipped cream and fresh raspberries.
“Oh, my,” Sylvia said as the waitress put it down.
“It’s about as dense of chocolate as you can get,” the waitress told her. “Take a bite and see if you like it.” The waitress was waiting to see her reaction.
Sylvia took a bite. It was warm and a rich bittersweet chocolate that melted in her mouth. It was a chocolate lover’s version of orgasm.
“This is fabulous,” she told the waitress. “However do you make it?”
“Lots of butter, eggs, chocolate and about a tablespoon of flour,” she told her. “It’s the best.”
“Wow,” Sylvia commented again.
The waitress walked away with a satisfied smile.
“You were saying,” Sylvia asked of Marian.
“I can’t be overly specific,” Marian said, “but there is something in your eyes, just like Hol
ly’s,” she repeated herself and then continued, “that I know that you are tuned into the Earth. I see it sometimes in others, but not as often as I would like. I suspect you can see auras,” she said.
Sylvia nodded. “I haven’t been able to see them in a long, long time,” she told Marian. “In fact, today is the first time I’ve seen them in trees since I’ve been a child.”
“You will probably see them more and more easily if you practice,” Marian told her matter of fact. “Can you feel a plant’s energy?” she asked Sylvia.
Sylvia shook her head. “Not that I know of,” Sylvia returned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s difficult to put a lot of this into words too,” she said to Sylvia. “But, I know when I touch a plant, I feel joy. It exudes some form of energy. I’m not very good at this. Your grandmother was amazing at it! She could see and feel several different kinds of energy,” she told her.
“My Grandmother could see and feel energy?” Sylvia asked. “I never knew!”
“Well,” Marian told her with a quirky smile, “it’s not something you advertise. I’m sure many people would think you were quite insane if you went around and told them about their auras and the energy that was coming from the earth all around them. I know it exists in many publications and the few who brave the general population by offering classes and philosophies, but I knew I had to be careful as the ‘faculty wife.’ I know Holly had to hide it from your grandfather as well. As much as they loved one another, he was too much of a straight jacket to accept anything other than the black and the white,” Marian went on. “That’s why we—Holly and I, became active in a lot of environmental projects. It was our small way of saving what we cherished. And,” she added, “from what your mother said, I’m sure it wasn’t even a choice for Holly to share things with you after she had been threatened by your father. Your grandmother adored you and wouldn’t let anything come in the way of spending time with you. If your parents had taken you away as they threatened or if they got wind of Holly being psychic—especially with plants, why your father would have locked her up and thrown away the key, it sounds like.”
The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1) Page 10
