Cedar Woman

by Debra Shiveley Welch

  Logan was ecstatic! Happy was a beautiful Dalmatian, and he was crazy about her. Gentle of spirit, Happy was a welcome companion in the Young Bear home. Even Kelly enjoyed her company, and the two

  could be seen napping together or just “hanging out” on the deck, pink tongues lolling, tails thumping, as Logan explored his beloved lake.

  Logan and Happy had something in common. Because of a problem with processing uric acid, the usually active dog had undergone a cystotomy for bladder stones. The two convalescents, therefore, kept

  each other company as often as Sherri could bring her.

  Logan loved her glossy, white coat covered with round, black spots. Her nose, also spotted, was wet and cold and constantly nudging his hand for pets. Happy also shared something with his ina: heterochromia; Happy possessed one brown and one blue eye.

  In addition, she was deaf, a condition known to the breed. Logan found that if he made certain motions while talking, like pointing to Happy and then a spot beside his feet and said, “Here,” Happy would understand and come to him.

  She was Logan’s playmate, his friend, and he knew instinctively that he would remember her until the end of his days, that this time with Happy and Kelly, his ina, and his grandparents, would forever stay in his mind as a golden halcyon chapter in his life. In later years, the memories of his childhood would give him comfort, and a firm foundation of faith in himself.

  Logan finished his mush and carefully slid from the stool. “Ina, what can I do until Happy gets here?” he questioned.

  “Why don’t you color? You haven’t done that for a couple of days, and the refrigerator is looking pretty empty!” Lena laughed, referring to the front of her French door fridge.

  Logan would spend an afternoon coloring, and then proudly attach

  his work of art to the refrigerator door with magnets shaped like giraffes, dinosaurs and fish. The next day, the colorful artwork was taken away and placed in a box beneath his bed.

  Lena once asked him why he removed his efforts so quickly and was surprised at his:

  “Because it’s been seen.”

  This confused her, but she couldn’t seem to get him to express exactly what he meant.

  In fact, the precocious child owned the heart of a poet and artist. He could taste the wind, smell colors, feel flavors. The world to him was

  a banquet of sensations and emotions in which he sometimes felt

  overwhelmed. He would create a drawing, and feel satisfaction in his work, but upon encountering it the next morning, believe that he had missed something…he could do better. Perhaps it was this tendency to aim for perfection, which led him to his current folly.

  “Good girl, Kelly,” Logan murmured.

  Kneeling in front of a large, square coffee table, situated in the cedar-paneled family room, Logan lifted the hinged door which served as one half of the table top, extracting drawing paper and crayons. Kelly nudged him again, and Logan scratched behind her ear absent-mindedly.

  “Just a minute, Kelly, I need to do this.”

  Logan closed the lid and arranged his supplies, intent on finishing his drawing before Sherri and Happy arrived.

  Logan wanted to color Nurse Marengo. Her image was vivid in his mind, and he wanted to capture it. The bone graft surgery was the worst

  one he’d been through so far, and the images, sounds, and smells were still vivid in his mind.

  He remembered waking up in a big room bustling with people, a

  little boy in the bed next to him beginning to cry, his head was completely covered in bandages, and Logan wondered what he had endured.

  Logan’s hip hurt! It hurt so bad, and his lip hurt. He could feel stitches hanging down in his mouth. He moaned, and a nurse was immediately at his side. Then he saw his ina.

  “Hey, Little Man. How are you?”

  Logan was very glad that Ina was there when he woke up. He didn’t want to be scared. He was a man after all, but her presence helped him to stay brave. He was grateful.

  He fell asleep, and the next thing he knew, he was in another room, and a nurse was bending over him. She had long, dark, wavy hair and incredible green eyes. But, the thing he noticed the most was her earrings. One was a flamingo and the other was a tiger! Logan blinked his eyes, sure that he was seeing things. Tossing her head, and making the earrings dance, Nurse Marengo laughed:

  “You like?”

  Logan smiled at the fascinating woman and murmured, “Your earrings don’t match, ennit.”

  “No, Dear Heart, they don’t. I find that you little guys pay more attention to my earrings than the stitches and IVs, so I wear them to

  amuse and distract.”

  Logan liked that. He liked that someone would think enough to come up with something that would help kids get through those first few days after surgery. And so, he wanted to honor her by putting her image, as he remembered it, on paper.

  He was coloring away intently, Kelly’s head nestled in his lap, when Logan heard the slam of a car door and an excited yip. Using his hands to push himself upward, he walked stiffly into the foyer and gazed out the front door side light. Happy was here!

  A crop of bright, strawberry curls caught the sun and burst into a halo of flame. Logan’s breath caught in his chest as the now golden, red ringlets seemed to blaze in the sunlight.

  How beautiful! he murmured to himself.

  Sherri stepped onto the deck, Happy at her heals. Crossing her eyes and sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth, she pretended to knock on the door. Laughing, Logan turned the knob, inviting Sherri and Happy into the foyer.

  “Hello, girl!” he exclaimed, hugging Happy around her aristocratic

  neck.

  “Hey! What about me?” Sherri laughed.

  “Hello, girl!” Logan teased, grabbing Sherri in a similar embrace

  and scratching the top of her head.

  “You goof!” she laughed, proceeding into the kitchen. Smiling, Sherri caroled,

  “Good morning, Mary, good morning, Peter.”

  She liked the Catchers, and felt that they were the quintessential example of a true marriage.

  I hope I have something like that someday, she would often think to herself.

  Maxing out at 5’3”, pale, freckled, and slightly plump, the ingenuous red head was a welcomed addition to Lena’s extended family.

  Sherri was Logan’s dental hygienist, and had grown to love the young

  boy.

  Generous of spirit, with a somewhat wacky sense of humor, she lived her life with both hands open, the latest testament of which was today’s visit. Extremely energetic, and bursting with life, Sherri was continually busy, and her kindness in bringing Happy by, an hour-long round trip for her, underscored her giving personality.

  Sherri exchanged pleasantries with Mary and Peter, and then, her body and mind in perpetual motion, was out the front door before anyone could take a breath. Logan watched as she left, eyes wide with hope. There it was again! Sherri’s hair blazed in reds, oranges and gold as the sun hit the top of her head. Sighing, Logan turned and made his way back to the coffee table, two canine friends now standing attendance.

  The morning passed contentedly. The sun moved across the room. Water shadows danced on ceiling and walls. Here and there light caught a piece of glass or prism, and rainbows played around the room. Logan colored away, stopping now and then to scratch a white ear, spotted chin or rub a dappled belly. He enjoyed the light in the room, and the rainbows, which were visiting him this morning.

  He stopped for a moment to stand and stretch; staying in the same position too long made his hip stiff. He glanced at Happy, and then at a rainbow: Happy – rainbow, and was suddenly inspired!

  Yes! he exclaimed to himself.

  Lifting the lid to the coffee table, and burrowing amid its contents, Logan found what he was looking for. Holding it up to the rainbow and squinting one eye, he became excited. Sherri’s fiery locks flashed across his mind’s eye.
r />   Perfect!

  Walking across the back deck, Peter approached the sliding doors, which exited from the family room. He felt renewed.

  There’s nothing like a short nap in the sun, with the sound of ducks and fountains pleasing your ear, he mused.

  Entering the family room, Peter noticed Logan and the two dogs.

  Where is my Mary? he questioned silently.

  Peter took a few steps toward the foyer and stopped. Wait a minute. Something was wrong. Turning slowly, he gazed upon Logan and his two friends.

  “MARY!”

  The sound of his wife’s feet clattering down the stairs told Peter where Mary had been. He ran to meet her, pointing toward the foyer, his mouth flapping ineffectually. Alarm rose in her breast: was Peter stroking?

  “Peter! Peter! What’s wrong? Are you all right? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” she pleaded, concern growing with every passing second.

  Peter shook his head and pointed again to the family room. “Logan?” she cried, “is Logan hurt?”

  Turning to fly into the family room, Mary felt Peter’s hand clutching at her arm. Spinning toward him, she started to shout:

  “Let me go!” when she noticed that, what she had thought was alarm and concern was, in fact, its exact opposite.

  Peter was trying desperately not to break into explosive laughter. Clutching his sides, he bent and moaned. Covering his face, gulping,

  tears coursing down his cheeks, Peter again pointed to the family room.

  Mary stood before her husband, her look puzzled. A tentative smile began to crease her face. Slowly, completely confused, Mary entered the room.

  Logan lifted his head and looked upon the lake. Today it offered no consolation. He had been bad. He had disrespected one of his best friends, and he didn’t know how to make it up to her.

  What was I thinking? he moaned inwardly. What was I THINKING?

  Banishing him to the back deck, his grandparents ordered him to stay put until they called him in. They must be very, very angry with

  him, because they wouldn’t look him in the eye. Whenever he tried to get them to look at him, they would turn away. Unci kept clutching

  Tunkasila, turning into him, her shoulders shaking.

  Is she crying? he wondered in alarm!

  Logan had never seen his unci cry. Head hanging, he went out onto the deck and sat on the bottom step. His mortification was complete.

  Had Logan been more aware, he would have heard the closing of windows and shutting of doors, but he was too deep in his shame to take

  notice.

  I can no longer walk this earth with honor, he grieved. The grandfathers know my disgrace. Ate! Are you ashamed of me too?

  Logan sank into mute despair. Were he more aware of his surroundings, he would have been confused to hear unbridled laughter.

  Logan slowly became aware of his surroundings. Sitting on the step, he heard his mother’s car. He sank deeper into his shoulders, afraid, knowing how disappointed his mother would be with him.

  She won’t talk to me for years, he thought.

  Tears spilled down his tanned cheeks, and he hung his head once more.

  The sounds of the lake seemed to stop. The fountain sparkled, but there was no splash of water. The ducks swam but there was no hint of

  the quacking and peeping Logan had come to love. He sat upright and

  looked around…did he just hear…laughter?

  He knew his mother’s laugh, knew it as well as his own. He could hear her single whoop as she threw back her head, the clap of her hands. Single yelps of laughter followed.

  Tunkasila was laughing. He could hear him, like a balloon leaking air. He would cover his face and then wheeze out his laughter, his face turning red.

  He heard another car. Sherri!

  Oh, no! he groaned.

  There was the slamming of a car door and then he could hear her ring the doorbell.

  Silence and then, “Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

  He listened intently: another scream and then Sherri’s very identifiable hearty laughter. What was happening in there?

  They’ve forgotten about me, he mourned. I’ll have to sleep under the deck with the opossum.

  Logan gave a start as he heard the swish of the sliding doors. Tunkasila motioned for Logan to come in. He rose and walked slowly

  toward his grandfather.

  Logan was too upset to notice that each of the adults were still fighting back laughter.

  Faces reddened with the effort, teeth clenched, they sat on the two couches in the family room. A dining room chair sat facing the four

  adults. Logan took a seat and awaited his sentencing.

  Logan was so engrossed in his work that he did not hear his tunkasila enter the family room. When he heard him cry, “MARY!” Logan jumped in alarm, jerked out of his creative muse.

  He heard his unci’s rapid descent, the conversation in the foyer. Turning to Happy, Logan finally realized exactly what he’d done.

  Mary walked into the room to see the dog standing beside Logan. Happy gave a yip. Lying down, she placed her muzzle between her

  paws. Logan stood frozen, his eyes wide. In his right hand, he held a

  permanent marker; in his left, he held two. Happy, once a beautiful black and white, now looked like a crazy quilt. Logan had colored in all of her white fur with the markers, using red, yellow and orange.

  Unci cleared her throat and began to speak.

  “Takoja,” Mary bit her lip. Clutching Peter’s hand, she fought off another spasm of laughter. She glanced at Peter and could see that he was clenching his teeth. She could feel a slight tremor go through his body and heard an almost imperceptible moan.

  Her sides hurt, her stomach hurt and her jaws ached. Cha! What a grandson I have! She laughed to herself. “Takoja,” she weakly began again.

  Logan looked up and met his unci’s eyes. He felt a wave of relief. Her eyes were stern, but kind, and a wave of love flowed from his heart to hers.

  “Takoja, what were you thinking? Why did you do this to poor

  Happy? I thought she was your friend!”

  Logan looked down at the unfortunate canine, lying by his chair, muzzle nested within her paws. Her beautiful coat was now a

  kaleidoscope of colors seemingly set against a black background. She shifted her eyes up to his, and he could see embarrassment. Happy was embarrassed!

  Logan was humiliated. Happy was his friend, and he had embarrassed her. He had made her feel that she wasn’t beautiful by changing her colors.

  I SHOULD sleep under the deck with the opossum, except that’s too good for me too! I don’t deserve any berry pudding either – not even fry bread. How could I do that to my friend?

  Logan looked over at Kelly who was sitting on the opposite side of his chair. Her large, brown eyes gazed back at him and seemed to impart disappointment.

  I promise, Sunka Ska, I will never do something like this again. I

  like you both the way you are.

  Logan knew, deep in his heart, that he was responsible for Kelly and Happy. They trusted him, and he had betrayed that trust. Because Happy loved him, she let him ruin her beautiful coat. Logan looked at her again. Rising to a sitting position, she gazed deeply into Logan’s eyes. They seemed to say,

  “It’s all right, Boy. I love you, and I know you love me.” Logan was forgiven by Happy, but not yet by himself. What I did was unforgivable! he mourned.

  “Cate sice hemaca,100 Sunka Gleska.101” Logan hung his head, too ashamed to meet the faithful dog’s eyes again.

  “Logan?” Mary queried.

  “I like Sherri’s hair!” Logan exclaimed, fighting tears.

  He was mortified again. His lips wouldn’t behave and were trembling. He folded them into his mouth in an effort to control them, but his chin got into the act. He hung his head to hide the fact that he was on the verge of tears.

  Face it like a man, Logan! he chastised himself.