About a dozen people showed up for the meeting. Mr. Carter introduced himself and Sylvia. One woman in particular kept looking at Sylvia as if she knew her. He went over, in somewhat of a droning voice, the steps that Thurmont had taken to heal the stream. After his presentation he opened up the discussion for questions. A couple of folks started firing questions at him regarding Thurmont and their dumping practices. Mr. Carter fielded them well, stating that he could give them information if they contacted him at the office, but reminded them that they were there tonight about the stream. Sylvia admired how he kept his cool. Others were concerned about keeping the stream healthy and how Thurmont would monitor the progress. The discussion became quite heated at a couple of points and Sylvia couldn’t help but interrupt with a suggestion.
“Why don’t we set up a stream watch?” she asked. “Couldn’t we set up something for the summer and then turn it over to a high school or college group in the fall?” she suggested.
Mr. Carter beamed at her so she went on.
“If you’re interested,” she pulled out a tablet and continued, “you can sign up with your name, address, phone and e-mail, and I’ll be in touch in the next week or so.”
The folks in the room calmed down a little. They liked her suggestion. The Librarian came back to signal that the library was closing and Mr. Carter gratefully brought the meeting to a close.
The woman who kept looking at her came up to Sylvia after the meeting.
“Aren’t you Holly’s granddaughter?” she asked.
“Why, yes!” Sylvia said smiling at her, “Did you know my grandmother?”
“Yes, I certainly did,” she said vehemently eyes flashing with something near hatred. “She will be turning over in her grave knowing you’re working at Thurmont,” she told Sylvia. “Traitor!” she spat out at Sylvia and stalked out of the room.
Sylvia was shaken. No one else seemed to have noticed the exchange. She wished she knew who that woman was. Perhaps Marian could shed some light on why the woman was so bitter.
Mr. Carter was busy folding the presentation boards and taking them out to his car and had not seen her either. Sylvia tried her best to smile and told the people signing on the tablet that she would be in touch in the next few weeks.
“Thanks for coming,” Mr. Carter said. “You saved the day in there. Do you know anything about stream watches?” he asked her.
“I was involved in one of my high school classes,” she told him. “I think I can pull it together.”
“Good work,” he said.
“Thanks,” she told him, “Have a safe trip home,” she yawned. She didn’t envy his long commute home that evening.
Sylvia went home puzzled by the woman with the flashing eyes and obvious hatred of Thurmont. It was after nine and she thought it would be too late to call Marian. She would do it tomorrow. Restless from the meeting Sylvia logged onto the Internet to research stream watches. She read through several websites and after an hour or so wondered if she would regret what she got herself into.
Tired of the Internet she turned to Gran’s bookshelves. They were stuffed with a variety of books, local history, popular literature, classics, mysteries, and gardening. Sylvia was tired and wanted to read something brief and she didn’t care on what topic. Jammed between books on gardening was a pamphlet. A spectrum of rainbow color swirled on the front and the title “Auras” was emblazoned at the top. Sylvia stared at it in amazement, suddenly feeling more awake. She leafed through it noting it had headings about the colors of auras and the whole pamphlet was only twenty pages or so. She took it up to bed to read, fascinated. Anna’s deep red aura, the book indicated, was of a person who was in turmoil, suffering in some way and domineering, Owen’s aura, on the other hand, indicated he was helpful, strong and friendly. Inadvertently she breathed a sigh of relief. She wondered what color her own aura was. She wondered how much Gran saw and experienced with auras. Still wondering, she fell asleep.
Chapter 14
The earth dries up and withers,
The world languishes and withers,
The heavens languish together
With the earth.
The earth lies polluted
Under its inhabitants;
For they have transgressed laws,
Violated the statuates,
Broken the everlasting covenant.
--Isaiah 24:4-5, NRSV
Sylvia was late to work the next morning, careening into the parking lot long past her usual arrival time. She was relieved to find that Mr. Carter wasn’t in the office. Breathing a sigh of relief she went to get a cup of coffee before she settled down to check voice mail messages and email. Mr. Carter had sent an email stating that he would be arriving at noon due to the fact that they had worked last evening and urged her to think about an afternoon of compensation time. She picked up the phone to call Marian to talk to her about last night’s meeting. She had no idea who the woman was, but suspected it was one of Gran’s compatriots on some of the environmental issues.
“There are several folks out there that are still angry with Thurmont. I missed some of the more heated rallies when I was in England,” Marian reminded her. “They are quite convinced that Thurmont is out to destroy the area with their chemical poisons.”
Sylvia sighed, “I know,” she replied. “I had my first taste last night.” Sylvia described the woman to Marian who had no idea who she was, but said she would think about it.
They hung up and Sylvia searched for website information on starting a stream watch. Revisiting sites she had logged onto the night before, she printed out several pages and worked on a proposal to give to Mr. Carter.
She ran home on her lunch hour to grab a pair of old khakis, t-shirt and sneakers. She was anxious to check out the stream that afternoon. Mr. Carter was in his office when she got back and she handed him her proposal and let him know that she was going outside. He beamed at her benevolently telling her again that she had saved the day the previous night.
Sylvia changed her clothes and walked towards the woods and stream that were on the Thurmont property. She could hear the stream gurgling away and saw a little of the vestiges of where the stream renewal took place. The warm weather had turned sultry and Sylvia wiped away beads of sweat that formed on her forehead. She went down to peer at the stream. It looked good. There were some insects scooting around and she saw some snails on the rocks. She thought she saw a tadpole or minnow, but it skittered away too quickly for her to identify it. They had placed a bed of rocks at the bottom of the stream and it riffled musically. At a shallow portion of the stream, Sylvia stepped from rock to rock to get to the other bank. The little riffles of water teased her sneakers as she balanced from one rock to another teetering dangerously in one spot.
Once on the other side of the stream, Sylvia noticed that the woods and area around the stream were strangely quiet. She didn’t hear any birdsong or scrabble of squirrels. She walked a little further into the forest, looking at the trees. She couldn’t see any auras up close, not yet at least. She wanted to look around, but the ground beneath her feet was strange. It wasn’t quite like mud or sand or clay, but something in between.
Sylvia knew there were many natural springs in the area, but the air didn’t have the fresh smell of sharp minerals and wet, as a spring does. When she reached down to touch some of it a trail of large red fire ants were traversing the muck on their way straight towards her and she yelped, pulling her hand back quickly. Gingerly Sylvia stepped out of their way not wanting one to take a fieldtrip up her pants leg.
Thinking she heard voices, Sylvia turned quickly and tripped over a root. Instead of falling, strong leaf covered arms caught her. She looked up and saw the Green Man’s face and smiled.
“Thanks,” she started to say, but he put one of his brown fingers over her lips stopping her comment..
“Shh,” he whispered. “You don’t want them to see you.”
He held her tightly against him. He was so large that
his green and brown figure was like a cloak when she was pressed against him.
“Who is it?” she whispered a puzzled expression on her face as she turned her body slightly to look up and stare into his golden green eyes. His eyes were serious and, Sylvia thought, concerned.
“Look,” he said quietly and nodded his head in the direction of voices.
Sylvia looked. It was Mr. Headly and Anna.
“What are they doing here?” she asked still whispering.
“Shh,” he said again and wrapped his arms tightly around her again so that very little of her showed between his camouflage and a medium sized leafy bush in front of them. She breathed in his woodsy, leafy smell and watched them walk quite close by, but they didn’t notice her. She wondered if the Green Man’s magic made her invisible. When the pair had walked past and were fairly far from them he let her go. She tingled strangely where he had touched her, with joyful little jolts of energy coursing through her body. She stared at the Green Man in wonderment, mouth hanging open a little with wanting to say something.
“Let’s go,” he said as more of a command than a friendly comment.
“Okay, okay,” Sylvia said and followed his command and they walked out of the wooded area. They crossed the stream into the other part of the woods. “Now can you tell me what’ going on?” she asked impatiently.
“Actually,” he paused, “No.”
“What do you mean?” Sylvia was exasperated. “Why were they here?”
“You tell me,” the Green Man said.
“W-e-l-l,” Sylvia said with exaggeration and a bit of a sarcastic note to her voice, “Obviously they’re up to no good,” she said using an old fashioned phrase. “Anna is the one with the dark red aura and Mr. Headly,” she refrained from calling him Mr. “Dick Head”, “has the putrid yellow streaks in his aura. “Both of them are either creepy or bitchy or something,” she broke off. “I don’t know! Obviously it has something to do with the clean up since they were near the stream and pointing at whatever,” she finished on a frustrated note.
“It’s a piece to the puzzle,” he said after listening to her tirade.
Sylvia’s reply was a great sigh of frustration. She didn’t know how to form her question to him, and looked back at him questioningly.
“You’re frustrated and question your gifts,” the Green Man told Sylvia. “The auras you see are a gift. It’s also a step in learning about your other gifts.”
“Explain, please,” Sylvia said.
“You’re ability to see the break down in colors of the auras and know instinctively, simply and clearly what is good and what is bad,” he said.
“Something like the way Gran could explain everything. She could break everything down to common sense,” Sylvia said thoughtfully.
“More than common sense,” the Green Man corrected. “It’s an ability, just like you can differentiate between good and evil by people’s auras.”
“Good and evil?” Sylvia questioned, slightly incredulous.
“Yes,” the Green Man said matter of fact. “You have that ability and more.”
“Also,” he directed her, “don’t touch the muck on your shoes. You could wash them off, but I think you should take them off with a plastic bag or gloves and throw them away.”
Sylvia looked down at the traces of mud still on her shoes. She looked up with a puzzled expression for an answer only to find that the Green Man was gone.
“Damn it!” she shouted at the trees. She didn’t understand any of this. Why her? She asked herself again and again. “I am not a patient person!” she half screamed at the trees that surrounded her. Sylvia stomped back to the front door of Thurmont working to compose herself and went back to the office to get her clothes.
Mr. Carter was anxious. “How did the stream look?” he asked.
Sylvia took a deep breath. “Pretty good, I think, from the little experience I’ve had with this sort of thing,” she paused and said ‘what the hell’ to herself and put her thoughts into words, “There’s another person who’s recently been hired that has a little more experience --well, a lot more experience with this sort of thing,” she said. “I thought about asking for his assistance with the project.”
“Good idea!” Mr. Carter beamed at her. “By the way, corporate loved the brochures. They’ve gone to print and we’ll have them back in time for Bay Days. Marketing from ‘big brother’ is putting together some posters, buttons, balloons and that kind of free stuff for kids at the festival. All you’ll need to do is to stand and look pretty at the booth.”
Sylvia blushed a little at the comment and then nodded. “If you don’t mind,” she told Mr. Carter, “I would love to get out of these clothes.”
“Sure, sure,” he said amicably. “Go right ahead.” He waved her out of the room.
Sylvia took her clothes and went to the ladies room to change. She didn’t have plastic gloves or bags, but used paper towels to remove her sneakers and sadly dropped them in the trashcan as the Green Man requested and washed her hands thoroughly with soap and warm water.
Back at the office she started to organize the information about how to run stream watch. She also searched the company directory, located Owen’s email and sent him a message asking for his assistance with the stream watch. She would need his assistance to figure out what kinds of equipment needed. She also approached Mr. Carter on how to obtain the conference room, and funding for treats, for an organizational meeting for the stream watch participants. She put the questions about the mud by the stream in the back of her mind.
Owen called later that evening to tell her he would be delighted to help her. They agreed to meet at 10:30 the next day in Sylvia’s office to discuss an organizational meeting and training and clear their ideas with Mr. Carter. Owen said he would dig up some equipment and suggested they order some supplies. He also wanted to take a look at the stream and asked if he could get an idea of the current health of the stream.
After they hung up Sylvia remembered that she would need new sneakers and ran out to a discount store. She wondered what Owen would think of the muck and mud that the Green Man warned her about.
The next morning, nervous about her meeting with Owen, Sylvia couldn’t concentrate on her work. Owen was prompt and came to the office door with a bag of equipment in his hands promptly at 10:30. She knocked on Mr. Carter’s door and introduced them. He smiled and shook Owen’s hand expressing his gratitude for Owen’s assistance on the project. Mr. Carter retreated back into his office while Sylvia and Owen sat down at the small table near her desk while Sylvia shared her ideas with Owen. He liked her ideas and suggested a plan for training. He wondered out loud if Thurmont would pay for an advertisement in the paper.
“Well,” Sylvia said. “Let’s ask Mr. Carter. I wondered if we could provide food and drinks for the organizational meeting and training anyway.”
She knocked on Mr. Carter’s door and said, “Excuse me, Mr. Carter. We had a couple of questions and wondered if you could join us for a minute.”
Mr. Carter emerged and they went over their ideas. He said he would check right away with his superiors regarding a newspaper advertisement for the stream watch volunteers and funding for the equipment and training.
Satisfied, Sylvia asked Owen if he wanted to check out the stream. They both went to change and met outside the front doors. Owen had a bag of equipment and a couple of nets. They walked through the woods, without talking, down to the stream.
Sylvia led Owen to where she had seen some insect life. He took out his equipment and scooped up some water in a jar to test the Oxygen and PH levels. He took a stick and poked at some of the rocks and pebbles at the bottom of the streambed.
“What are you looking for?” Sylvia asked him.
A thatch of black curls hung rakishly over one of his eyes as he peered into the depths of the stream. Sylvia thought it quite sexy and had the sudden urge to push the hair out from his eyes. She firmly stuck her hands in her pockets and took
a step backward, sighing, she hoped not audibly.
“I’m checking for various types of larvae,” he told her. He scooped up some the bottom sediment and pebbles in a net and took it over to the ground.
“Look here,” he said. “Here’s a leech,” he started to say and Sylvia screeched “Oooh!” Owen waited a moment and looked through the net. “Here’s a black fly larva, a dragonfly larva….Damn! it pinched me!” he cried out. “That tells me that the stream is from fair to poor health. It’s something to keep an eye on.”
Sylvia wasn’t especially squeamish, but the larvae were not attractive to her. She sucked in her breath and bravely looked closer. They were definitely ugly in her eyes. She couldn’t believe that the ugly bug like thing Owen pulled from the stream would actually turn into a beautiful dragonfly. Owen put the larvae back into the stream. He stepped out onto the rocks to look some more. He was pleased that he saw some tadpoles and told Sylvia to keep an eye out for frogs. He asked if she would walk down the edge of the stream bank as he hoped some would jump in. Sure enough, as Sylvia walked along the edge, one leaped into the water. Startled, she lost her balance and teetered on the edge of the stream. Luckily Owen had come up behind her and grabbed her arm and held her until she got her balance. For a moment, time came to a standstill. The frog got away.
“Thanks,” she told him after the extended moment.
He let go of her arm. “No problem,” he said. He took her hand and helped her up the bank of the stream. “I think we can go back now.”
“All right,” Sylvia said quietly.
“Let’s go get changed and have some lunch,” he suggested.
“That would be nice,” she said.
They continued the polite, non-committal chatter before they changed and met back at her office and walked down to the cafeteria together.
“The stream has some problems,” he told her. “I’m not sure it’s a shining example of a healthy stream to show the community,” he said, “but, they could take it upon themselves to make it a wonderful and healthy place. It would certainly be a good project to begin so that they could see decent growth from the time of the clean up. I wouldn’t mind doing a little more research on the clean up itself, so that I could answer any chemical related questions. I want to know if any half lives of the chemical properties that polluted the stream a year or two ago are affecting its current state of health.”
The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1) Page 16
