LeOmi's Solitude
Page 13
LeOmi slowly and silently picked up her parcels.
“You know that this is part of the responsibilities you agreed to.”
LeOmi nodded.
“In my first years I helped out in the Astronomy labs, and that was great. Yours will be great too, you’ll see, give it a chance before you make up your mind about anything.”
Bekka picked up one of LeOmi’s parcels.
They walked along and Bekka stopped to look at a statue of a Bonsai Tree, perfectly done in bronze.
“Wow! Look at that.”
“Beautiful.”
“Well, you have had your first night in your new dorm. Have you made any new friends?”
LeOmi shook her head.
“Well, you will. Ms. Vanmie is right. We all have to learn to be able to depend on each other. There are some things that you just can’t do alone.”
“She said that I have a lot to learn.”
“Yes. But, don’t we all.”
As they walked to the Emerald dormitory Bekka said, “I may not see you in the morning; Sundays I spend as much time with my family as I possibly can. But of course if you need me…” Bekka took a small stone out of her pocket and handed it to LeOmi, “If you need me, just put this stone under the lamp in your room. It is photo-resonating and it hums a low grade frequency that can be detected in certain areas where receivers are positioned.”
LeOmi nodded as Bekka piled the packages into LeOmi’s arms.
“Not that you would need me, but sometimes it’s just nice to have someone to talk to. Well good night and sleep well.”
They parted ways, LeOmi going through the huge doors to the Emerald Dormitory and Bekka walking toward the Olive Tree, pulling out her notebook as she went.
* * *
Mrs. Kirby stood at the wall entry of the Wildlife Game Preserve at a quarter to seven. She reminded LeOmi of what a combination drill instructor and a German governess might look like.
LeOmi had used her morning run time to get to the Preserve a little early and she was very surprised to see the women standing there with an impatient look on her face.
“Guten Morgen, I am Mrs. Kirby. Follow me please.”
As they went around the wall the humidity difference was noticeable and as they walked deeper and deeper within the Preserve, the difference became more pronounced between the dry heat of the desert and the moisture laden Preserve.
“I am sure that Bekka told you that I need a new Guide for the Rainforest Trails on the weekends, and of course you would also have some additional duties. They vary.”
LeOmi followed.
“I like things to run smoothly, I have a system specifically geared to do just that.”
When Mrs. Kirby spoke, she turned her head so that her commanding voice could be heard clearly.
“Out of nothing, nothing comes. If you do not do your job well you will not retain your job. Do you agree Miss Jones?”
Out of nothing, nothing comes.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good.”
Mrs. Kirby, an over six foot tall German woman led the way down a path at the edge of the forest. The path was shaded and somewhat cool in the early morning and LeOmi could see the Farmlands beyond the forests edge. After they had walked briskly for a short while, LeOmi practically jogging to keep up, they arrived at a small shack with a small front porch and a sliding window on the side of the building that was framed with all sorts of ‘good to know facts’ about animals, plants, water contaminants, littering, endangered species, and the proper procedures for encountering wild life in the wild–or in this case, a Wild Life Preserve and Rainforest.
The entire shack had a four foot overhang that shaded all the windows and doors.
“This is the headquarters, if you become overheated or if you have some sort of emergency, this is where you will go. There are facilities in the rear. There is also means of communication if necessary.”
LeOmi nodded her understanding and Mrs. Kirby nodded her head rapidly and turned and started walking into the brush.
She said over her shoulder, “Come, I will show you the path.”
They walked the path and there were markers that explained some of the trees and their natural uses. There were rope producing trees and trees that you could harvest ointments from. There were poisonous trees to be avoided and trees with leaves that served as sandpaper–in the right circumstances.
“There are thirty-nine markers. I expect you to study each one and to be able to begin your first tour on Saturday morning.
“One of our prizes here are our bower birds. Have you heard of them? Nein? They are also called architect birds. You will see.”
She took LeOmi down the path and turned to shush her and then she tiptoed to the end of the path. There on the other side of a hedge, about twenty foot away there was a very strange sight, a platform that had been woven from sticks and twigs.
The bird was there carefully building and adjusting. He had used nearby saplings as a tripod to house his collection of colorful leaves, grasses, mosses and even a colorful flyer that she recognized from the little shack. At the base of the tower was an opening that led into an inner little chamber. The male bower bird had stacked piles of nuts, bugs, white snail shells and flower buds: white, yellow and purple.
From the lower portion of the tower branches he had woven various colored feathers in with twigs. The structure stood more than three feet high.
“He woos female bower birds.”
As in recognition of her statement the bird made a knocking sound.
“He calls for a female.”
Mrs. Kirby motioned for LeOmi to follower her back to the path.
“The males do not build a nest, incubate the eggs, or raise the chicks—this is what he offers, fertilization of eggs and continuation of their species. Hence, this is why the females are so very finicky about the males they choose. The females are the judges.”
They continued down the path but they could still hear the bird making the knocking sound.
“You may do the bulk of your guide work on Sunday. There is a schedule in the shack. Do not be late. If I have to postpone my duties to do yours, the work assignment team will hear. Also, if you have three reports of tardiness you will be sent on to another position, maybe not as nice as this one.”
As they had been walking along and Mrs. Kirby was talking, the sound of flowing water was becoming louder and louder, and the temperature was getting hotter and hotter and it was before eight o’clock in the morning.
They hadn’t seen any large animals until they rounded a bend deep within the Preserve. There was a cliff face with a large cave structure. Numerous pockets had been cut into the side of the cliff.
There were several different kinds of animals visible: monkeys, large birds, two hippos and various small rodent type creatures that scurried away upon their approach.
“Some have come out to meet us this morning.”
It was breathtaking, not only the animals, but also the landscape. Not to mention the thickness of the air itself.
“I have a system that is to be continually monitored. It is geared to keep the habitat running smoothly. There is someone here at all times.”
“How did you get this here? —I mean, is it real?”
“Of course it is real. But it is also helped along. This is a natural landscape that has had a hot water spring introduced into the environment. The spring carries heated water, heated to a specific temperature and recycles it from the underground seepage and back through. We have made this little Shangri-La with the knowledge that God has given us, to help some of these poor mistreated or injured animals.”
“These are rescued animals?”
“Some of them are and others have just somehow found their way here–miraculously.”
They stood for a few more moments, just taking in their surroundings and then Mrs. Kirby roused her from her thoughts.
“I must get to work. I will see you every morning unt
il you memorize the guide sheet and then on Saturday you will give your first guided tour. Nein?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Kirby nodded her brisk nod.
“Auf Wiedersehen.”
LeOmi nodded, turned and retraced her steps to the school and towards The Quarters
.
Chapter 8
Choose: Survival or Ruin
Oddly enough, her father was at The Quarters when she went for a late breakfast. She was actually happy to see him.
“Have you seen your sister or your brother?”
“No. I don’t even know if they are here.”
“They should be.”
“Maybe they just don’t want to be around me.”
“What? …You’re such a silly.” The phrase reminded her of a children’s story book that her mother would sometimes read, long ago. He smiled, she didn’t.
“Did I push mother away? Was it me?”
“Or was it me? The only one that can answer that is no longer with us.”
They both were silent. LeOmi started shoving food into her mouth. He had seen that happen before and he knew that she would soon leave.
“The first time she left, I was so surprised.”
LeOmi swallowed hard.
“Your mother had been moody, but as you know, that wasn’t unusual.
“When she left I contacted her mother, your Grand-Mère in New Orleans and found out that she was there in the city. She kept an eye on her, but as you know your Grand-Mère doesn’t like me so much. She would only tell me that your mother was safe when I called. She was gone for about a month, and I didn’t hear anything from her—until she came back. She was very secretive about where she had gone. We didn’t discuss what had happened.
“The second time your mother left it was very much the same. She was moody and then she just left. I contacted your Grand-Mère again and she was there in New Orleans again. Your Grand-Mère confronted her that time, and she came home again, but after that it was never the same.
“I just added to the reasons for her anger when I tried to find out why.”
“Once the halo tips…”
“She lost faith in me. It is possible that I drove her right to him. That is what he made me think anyway, and he knew it. He used it against her, and me.”
He paused and took a sip from his cup. LeOmi did the same.
“She sent me her Journal. I can’t read it. I don’t want to read it, but maybe it will help you deal with why she left.”
He laid the journal on the table and slid it with two fingers as if he didn’t want to touch it.
“I should have given it to Sergeant Polaris, but I wanted you to have it.”
LeOmi took the book and flipped through it.
“We can’t bring your mother back to life, but maybe this can help you with the why.”
It was a small book about the size of a shirt pocket. Her name wasn’t in it but LeOmi knew her mother’s handwriting.
“We… you and I are at the point of survival or ruin in our family. The odds are stacked against us right now.”
She closed the book.
“It is up to you. Which will you choose? Downfall and maybe death, like your mother chose?”
“Sounds like a sermon.” LeOmi leaned forward, clutching the book to her heart. “You chose your work or your office to get you through your hurt. You never–never turned to me.”
“You can’t blame that totally on me. Let’s be truthful here. You don’t play well with others. You never have.”
She started to get up, but her book bag was tangled around the chair leg. He stood and leaned towards her.
“You ask if you pushed your mother away. I don’t know, but I don’t think so. Just like her, you don’t let anyone in, and sometimes it seems that you bully everyone around you into feeling the same way you do.” He sat in his chair.
“It doesn’t have to be that way LeOmi, life has the good in it too. Look past the bad.” LeOmi untangled her book bag with one hand and turned to leave. Her father stood again.
“Running away again LeOmi? You are so afraid of being like her, that you are making it happen. Can’t you see? Survival or ruin.”
LeOmi backed out toward the door. “So much for a day with the family. I should have known.”
LeOmi turned and ran out the door.
Bekka had her notebook out, making notes. Then she put the pad away and went inside to join LeOmi’s father.
* * *
Bekka found LeOmi at the Olive Tree.
“Too proud to cry in front of anyone?”
There was no wind, but it seemed like the tree shook all over, like a cold chill passed through it.
“Success or failure is what he said.”
“You can change the way that things might happen. Sometimes you just have to step back and reevaluate, change your outlook on things and your actions will show the change.”
Bekka pointed her thumb towards the entrance way that Slone used.
“What about Slone’s group and the incident with the Poparov boy.”
LeOmi shrugged.
“Well you ran towards the commotion to assist didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, but Mark was already there.”
“But why were Ricky and Keith there in the first place? Were they bored? I don’t think so.”
“I don’t know about Ricky, but I do think Slone is trying to help some people.”
“The line between goodness and cruelty is a shadowy gray. Goodness is light and evil is darkness. Some people use cruelty to get what they want, but there are many ways to bully or use someone. Some are more subtle than others, but we must remember that there is always Hope. We must believe in God’s wisdom and His time is always the right time.”
LeOmi nodded in agreement.
“Here is something to think about, Henry Ben Franklin. He was your last teacher. Well, his name sake, Ben Franklin made it a routine to ask himself every morning: What good shall I do today? Then in the Evening he would ask himself: What good have I done today?”
Did I get you riled up yet?
* * *
That night in her room she read the journal.
The best place to start is at the beginning, or so they say.
But the beginning was a long, long time ago, so let’s start with the recent…then come back to the beginning some other time.
Elizabeth Joan Henderson is an ordinary child—or so it would seem.
She lives in an ordinary house on an ordinary street. Her parents are ordinary too.
There is also an ordinary dog and an ordinary cat.
Everything about Elizabeth seems ordinary—but it is not.
Of course she did not know that while she was growing up. How could she? Everything seemed perfectly normal to her.
Naturally there were times when she thought she was too tall—but really she wasn’t.
She thought her hair grew too fast—because it seemed to always be in her way, but that was just the way that her hair grew.
She thought that her fingers were too long when she was little and too short as she grew older—but they were just right.
She thought that her feet were bigger than everyone else—but...well maybe a little.
No, the most un-ordinary thing about Elizabeth was, well, let’s say that she was very quick at learning.
She was curious more than anything. She loved to learn about things and how they worked.
When she was very young she would take apart the little plastic dolls to see how they were made and when she was a little older, her parents found the mantle clock taken apart—piece by piece—springs were everywhere.
What do you do with a child that is so hungry for knowledge?
Eventually her parents took her out of the public school system because she was so bored.
They taught her at home—everything from Astronomy to Zoology. She studied twelve months a year. Still she wanted to know more.
When she wasn�
��t learning something new—she was reading.
Her mom volunteered at the local library, helping to put books up on shelves and helping people find things that they needed.
Elizabeth helped too. She learned all about books and she loved them, so it was natural that she always had one. She read everything from little girls with rabbits to men who fought ogres and evil giants. This is where her imagination really began to grow. Imagination is a wonderful thing. It can take you away from your everyday life into—The Fantastic.
I suppose that is why it didn’t seem so abnormal for her to dream those dreams. They began when she was very young. Probably when she was about four years old. She would speak of what she called her guardian. He would just sit by her bed while she slept. He didn’t do or say anything. He was just there, watching and making sure that she was safe.
It wasn’t until recently that he began to show her in her dreams of a place in the dessert. A wonderful mountain that held her future secrets. He still didn’t speak in her dreams. He was just there. Kind of like the lock on the front door. As long as it’s locked, nothing bad can get in.
It’s not that her parents didn’t keep her safe. They did. Her father was a big strong man who worked on ships in the local shipyard. He could tell you just about anything about all kinds of different ships. Everything from aircraft carriers to the smallest life boat. Her papa is where Elizabeth got her dark hair and hazel eyes, from her papa. Her papa as she would call him.
LeOmi read the journal and then read it again.
What in the world could this mean? There was nothing remarkable about the pages or the outer cover. Very perplexing.
She got out her pen and paper and wrote a letter. The first letter that she had ever written in her life, and she didn’t know where to send it.
She put it in an envelope and addressed it simply with a name and laid it on her pillow.
“The waiting for a response is the hard part.” If a response comes.
* * *
A short breakfast with Bekka and a run to the Wildlife and Game Preserve wall became her morning routine. She was there for about an hour studying the placards and indentifying all of the extra plants and animals that she could. This was the easy part, the learning.