“You should call Owen and take samples tomorrow morning,” the Green Man advised.
“That’s a great idea,” Sylvia said. “I’ll do that.”
Sylvia was quiet and the Green Man was too. He stayed with her until she pulled into her driveway and, with a rustle of leaves, disappeared again. She smiled involuntarily at the sound, feeling comforted.
Sylvia went right in and called Owen. She could tell he was still distracted, but he agreed to take samples in the morning. For a moment he seemed less distracted and even suggested that they go out for breakfast afterwards. Surprised, Sylvia accepted his invitation and looked forward to the next morning.
Chapter 15
Earth mother, star mother,
You who are called by a thousand names,
May all remember we are cells in your body
And dance together.
--Starhawk
Owen picked her up promptly at eight the next morning. It was hot and Sylvia put on shorts and a t-shirt and slathered on bug and sun repellant. He frowned and told her she should be wearing long pants because of ticks and she retorted that jeans were much too hot. He was wearing khakis and a light long-sleeved shirt. They drove to Thurmont’s main parking lot that was completely empty. Owen removed a canvas bag, took a large kick seine net, a yardstick and waders out of the car.
“Can I help?” Sylvia asked him.
“You can carry these,” he said and he handed her the waders.
They walked through the woods to the edge of the stream where they had observed the stream earlier in the week. Owen wanted to move further down the stream and Sylvia followed him carefully stepping along the edge of the stream bank. It was fairly quiet with only the occasional twitter of a bird or scrabble of a squirrel. The sun shone through the leaves and Sylvia was getting hot. A trickle of sweat ran down between her breasts and she pushed her damp hair back from her forehead. She couldn’t imagine wearing long pants today and wondered how Owen could look so cool. Owen finally stopped and put down his equipment.
“This looks like a good place,” he told her. “Time for your crash course in stream watching,” he said.
This part of the stream looked the same to Sylvia as the other part of the stream closer to Thurmont, with the exception of being a little deeper, but she didn’t argue. Owen removed a small kit, went down to the stream and measured the water at a riffle a few steps away from the shore. He also put a thermometer in the water and asked her to take the yardstick and measure how deep the water was.
“This is to check PH levels,” he told her holding up the little kit.
Owen took the kit and put in a couple of drops of liquid from a small bottle. He swirled it around and checked the color against a sliding rainbow of color on the side of the kit. The range of colors indicated if the water was acidic or not. This water was on the edge. Another small kit checked for salt. Owen had Sylvia do this test. No salt, but he wasn’t surprised.
“Looks like it’s slightly polluted still,” he commented. “The question is ‘why’ since the clean-up was allegedly completed,” he commented. “Hmm, it’s a good mystery,” he said, “and I’ve always have liked mysteries. It’s probably why I like science,” he continued.
Sylvia nodded, but didn’t say anything. Owen was obviously in his element. He had a faraway, yet happier look in his eye than she had seen for a week or more.
“Hold onto this side of the net,” he instructed her. “We’re going to rest the bottom of the net on the stream bed and try not to disturb the sample area,” he told her.
Sylvia did as she was told. She stepped out into the shallow part of the stream balancing on a couple of rocks that did not teeter back and forth when she stepped on them. She held the net steady while Owen stretched it across part of the stream. He reached down to scrub some of the stones in the sampling area and shuffled oddly and sideways towards the net. Together they lifted the net from the water with a forward scooping motion and carried it to the stream bank and laid it out flat. Owen carefully examined the specimens in the net. He had a bothered look on his face and she leaned closer. There was a frog in the net that was hopping lamely.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“This,” he said, and he held up a frog that squirmed in his hands.
“So?” Sylvia asked. “What’s wrong with the frog?”
“Count its legs,” he said grimly.
Sylvia counted, one, two three. It was missing a leg.
“What does that mean?” she asked him.
“It’s definitely a sign of pollution,” he told her, but it could have been the residue of the chemical before the clean up. We should keep a count of deformed frogs as well as the PH levels and other water critters.”
“Okay,” Sylvia said. “I can add it to the list of things we have to watch for.”
“Good,” he said as he placed the frog gently back into the stream. “And I’m going to take a sample of this water home and check it out under the microscope.”
He looked at the macro-invertebrates and made some notes before returning them to the streambed. She watched carefully.
“What’s over there?” he asked pointing to the opposite side of the stream.
“Just some woods, I think,” Sylvia said.
“Let’s go explore,” he said brightly, “Race you!”
Owen set off across the stream balancing on the rocks. He nearly lost his balance and Sylvia laughed.
“Uh, oh,” he said teasingly, “I must have had some fume blanc this morning.”
“Ha, ha,” Sylvia replied. “Very funny,” she said sarcastically. She followed Owen less enthusiastically. She wondered how she could explain the Green Man and the brown ooze she had seen the other day.
“Careful,” she warned.
He turned and caught her hand pulling her the rest of the way from the stream and they went up the bank. Just as before, the forest was silent. Dead silent. Owen turned around and around looking carefully up at the trees.
“This is odd,” he said. “It’s way too quiet.”
“I know,” Sylvia said quietly.
They walked a little bit. The ground was getting mushier.
“What do you think of this?” she asked him pointing to the mushy ground.
“What is this stuff?” Owen asked as he squatted down to take a better look at the ooze.
“I don’t think you should touch it,” Sylvia said warningly.
“Hmm,” Owen answered, “You’re probably right.”
He picked up a stick that was lying on the ground nearby and poked at the ooze.
“I think I would like to take a look at this under a microscope too,” he told her.
He removed a small specimen bottle from his pocket, opened it with his teeth and pushed some of the ooze into the jar with the stick. He closed it tightly and looked up at Sylvia and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving! Do you want to go and get breakfast?” he asked her.
“Love to,” Sylvia replied.
They made their way back across the stream allowing some of the water to clean off the bits of ooze that had gotten onto their shoes. Owen was quiet and thoughtful as they drove to the restaurant. It was busy with weekend boaters. Owen asked if they could wait for a booth. After a few minutes they were seated. When Sylvia started to talk to Owen and ask him some questions, he held up his hand to silence her. She squelched her thoughts.
They ordered coffee and breakfast. Once the waitress had left them alone, Owen leaned across the table towards Sylvia.
“I don’t like what we saw today,” he confided in her.
“What do you mean?” she asked him.
“The deformed frog,” he told her, “is a barometer for pollutants. The stuff in the stream rates it at fair to poor health…and I have no idea what that ooze is from. Isn’t that the site that was close to the leak?” he asked.
Sylvia nodded before she said, “I think so. You should check out the EPA superfund website. It
has a lot of information and you’ll probably understand it far better than I could,” she told him. “It has a breakdown of what happened at this Thurmont site.
“I’ll do that this afternoon,” he said looking impressed that she had done her research.
He changed the subject, “What movie are you and Carol going to see?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” Sylvia said. “We’re meeting at the theater and there are several that show between 1 and 1:30. I don’t have any real preference as long as it isn’t too scary or gory.”
“Not fond of scary movies?” he asked.
She shook her head and smiled as she said, “Only if I can close my eyes and clutch at someone,” she said.
“Hmm,” he teased, “That’s something to keep in mind.”
Sylvia glanced up but couldn’t tell from his expression if he was serious or only teasing. The waitress interrupted by bringing their meals. Owen had ordered a full breakfast of eggs, sausage, hash browns, toast and a couple of pancakes on the side. Sylvia had ordered buckwheat pancakes and a side of scrapple that had been sliced thin and cooked extra crisp.
The topic of movies didn’t come up again. They talked about Marian’s upcoming party. Owen told her that in addition to the research that he wanted to do this afternoon, he was also going to chop some wood for Marian’s planned bonfire. He needed to look at the weather report and figure out how and when to string lights at various parts of her property.
“She wants those white fairy lights everywhere,” he told her with mild complaining in his voice.
“I’m sure it will be lovely,” Sylvia said. “When I think of mid-summer’s eve, I can’t help but think of ‘A Mid-Summer Night’s dream’ and all of the fairies.”
Owen nodded in agreement. “Shakespeare,” he murmured, “beautiful play, but I could never get into that one.”
“Did you figure out your problem from yesterday?” she asked changing the subject.
A frustrated look crossed Owen’s face, “No,” he said, but I’ll be looking into it tomorrow.”
His voice was so unyielding that she didn’t press the subject. The waitress brought more coffee and the bill. Sylvia reached into her pocket to pull out some bills and Owen stopped her.
“It’s on me,” he said.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” he said.
“Well, at least let me leave the tip,” Sylvia requested.
“Only if you insist,” he said with a grin.
“I insist this time,” she said, “but, I might not let you off so easy the next time.”
“Deal,” he said.
He drove her home and left her at her doorstep. Sylvia went into the house and sat down on the couch and hugged a pillow smiling. She didn’t know how long she sat there in the nether world of her daydreams. When she got back to reality she realized she was running late for the movie with Carol and rushed to wash off the sweat and grime from the morning’s expedition and pushed the speed limit in getting to the movie theater. She was about five minutes late and Carol was waiting patiently enjoying the sun on a bench outside the theater.
“Hey there,” Sylvia called to her jogging a little to reach Carol a minute sooner, “Sorry I’m late!”
“No problem,” Carol said. “I thought I’d work on my tan. Do you have any ideas what we should see?”
Sylvia shook her head. They finally decided on a romantic comedy and purchased popcorn and soda.
“I shouldn’t even think about eating,” Sylvia said. “I just ate brunch!”
“Did you go out for brunch?” Carol asked.
“Yes,” Sylvia told her, “Owen picked me up so that we could take some stream samples and get a base line measurement before the stream watch. We went out for breakfast afterwards.”
“Woo-hoo!” Carol exclaimed. “A date!”
“Umm, I don’t think so,” Sylvia answered. “This was work.”
“You know these nerdy guys,” Carol said, “In his eyes it was probably a date.”
“I don’t think so,” Sylvia insisted.
“Did he pay for your breakfast?” Carol asked.
Sylvia nodded.
“You see,” Carol said matter of factly, “a date.”
“Well, obviously I’m not going to convince you,” Sylvia said to her, “even though I would love for it to have been a date. He’s too preoccupied with whatever is going on at work to even think of a date, I think,” she said. “And no one knows what’s going on with Anna!” she exclaimed.
“Anna’s probably most of the problem,” Carol said. “Mark my words. He’s following in the footsteps of many others.”
The lights had dropped and the previews had started. Someone ‘shushed’ them from behind. Carol turned around to glare at them.
“There’s flying popcorn on the screen,” she hissed back at them. “Give me a break!”
She elbowed Sylvia and giggled. They enjoyed the movie and went out for pizza and beer afterwards, Carol taking her to one of her favorite restaurants. Carol waved to the folks behind the counter when they walked in.
“I know, I know,” she said. “It’s not a ‘pretty’ restaurant, but the food is awesome. Try their ravioli sometime. There’s enough cheese in it and on it to clog your arteries, but it’s a food experience you’ll never forget. I get it when I’m really depressed. It’s almost as good as a lot of chocolate.”
They ordered a pitcher of beer and a large pizza with extra cheese, extra bacon and mushrooms. Sylvia had never tried that combination but found it delicious. They tried hard not to talk about work, but ended up gossiping anyways, laughing hysterically and placing a bet on how long Mr. Keely would last.
“This was great,” Sylvia said. “We’ll need to do it again soon.”
“Definitely,” Carol answered. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you,” Sylvia said.
She was glad to get back home. She checked for messages to see if Owen had called with any of his results from his microscopic observations. She only found a brief message from her mother. She called her mother back for her weekly check in. Feeling sleepy and lethargic from the heavy food she had eaten all day, Sylvia yawned loudly. She sank into the couch and sat back to surf the channels on the television. Finding nothing of interest, she turned it off and looked out at the bay. It was now a subconscious act to check for the auras on the trees. The auras were leaping from the trees and her only thought was that they were happy. “Silly,” she thought to herself, “trees can’t communicate that way.” But, could they, she wondered in the next minute. She wondered if they were picking up on her contentment and happiness at that very moment. She would need to ask the Green Man the next time she saw him.
She walked into the study looking for a good book to read. Funny how she had never really read the titles on Gran’s books. There was a lot of poetry, many classic novels and many books on gardening and nature writing. She ran her hand down the shelves along the spines. She knew Gran had loved books. Each one on the shelf was special to her in some way. Sylvia nearly cried when she found the shelf of children’s books. Gran had kept a collection that she read aloud to her on a regular basis. Sylvia pulled out a tattered volume of ‘Katy and the Big Snow.’ Looking at it brought back so many memories. Gran would have her trace Katy on the page with her finger and they would both chant “chug, chug, chug,” as they read the book. There were others. Gran liked fantasy and read chapters of L’Engle’s ‘Wrinkle in Time’ series until Sylvia could read them herself. She pulled out the second volume in the series, ‘A Wind in the Door’ and took it up to bed to read.
In the morning, Sylvia logged onto her email, hoping to find a note from Owen and was disappointed to find none. She emailed him asking what he had found in the water samples and continued with her own work. Mr. Carter was at a meeting and the office was quiet. She watered her new plants and worked on the Stream Watch and Bay Days projects. Carol emailed her late morning to say she would work thr
ough lunch in her office. Sylvia was disappointed, but not surprised that Owen did not show either. She ate alone quickly and returned to the office, completing the stream watch information, logs for the volunteers and signup sheet and calendar.
There was no message from Owen all day nor on her home answering machine that evening. Sylvia was starting to get a little peeved. He could, at least, have the courtesy to call to tell her if he found anything or not. She paced around the kitchen and stomped out to the deck, pacing back and forth there and staring at the wood beneath her feet. Finally, she looked out at the water and walked down to the beach. There she took off her shoes to test the water. It was starting to warm up and felt refreshingly cool. She lifted her skirt and waded deeper. If it had been darker she would have considered stripping and taking a swim. She turned back to the house, put on her swimsuit and water shoes, grabbed a towel and went to paddle around for a little while in the bay. Refreshed Sylvia toweled off, made some dinner and sat to eat it on the deck. Swallows were swooping low over the water gathering their nightly feast of mosquitoes. She thought she saw a bat or two fluttering as well. As evening fell, Sylvia felt the mosquitoes starting to bite her and slapped at them for a few minutes until they drove her into the house for refuge.
She didn’t hear from Owen on Tuesday or Wednesday. Sylvia, one whose temper was slow to build, was close to peaking by Wednesday evening. She was all set for the organizational meeting and assumed Owen was coming as he had said the week prior, but felt jilted since she had not heard from him. She finally called and Marian answered and said Owen was working late.
“Do you know if he’s coming to the stream watch organizational meeting tomorrow night?” she asked Marian, trying to keep anger from edging into her voice.
Marian’s calm voice answered, “As far as I know, he’ll be there,” she said. “I talked about going too and I thought we would drive together. He hasn’t been around much this week.”
The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1) Page 18
