Rolf and Eric arrived a few minutes later with their blankets. Enar, out of respect for his host family walked off a little bit before spreading his out on the ground. He sat down and breathed out a long sigh. In front of him, outside of this cave of leaves, the rest of the world stretched out. A green sea of grass and flowers, the far side of the field billowed gently in the wind. At its edge the forest stood still and silent and beyond that hills, more hills and ever more trees.
Movement in the corner of his eye made him turn as Rolf sat down next to him on the blanket.
“Enar, my guest,” the man leaned close and whispered, “there's something you should know. The local Restday blend is really strong this year. If someone offers you a smoke it might be best if you pass it up. They won't take offense.”
Rolf paused a moment to let his message sink in. “You do as you wish, but keep in mind that we have to get the kids home and if you stay here too long you may have to make your way back on your own.”
Enar nodded that he'd understood, but didn't say anything. He wasn't a big smoker, but once in a while, usually when Sunday and Restday fell on the same day, he'd puff the afternoon away with a good blend of something mildly potent. It was, after all, the anfylk way.
Rolf put a hand on Enar's shoulder for support and with a low groan he got to his feet. He turned to leave but stopped and bent low to whisper in Enar's ear, “I've got some back home in case you want to try it later,” and with a grin he stood up again and walked off.
That might be an idea. Enar was sure he'd find his way back to Rolf's place; just down to the road, make a left at the crossroads and then just keep on going until he reached the gate in the hedge. He could make it back on his own, but he didn't really feel like being left alone – even if this was a nice place. He'd be good and wait to enjoy his smoke until later.
Feeling pleased with himself and with the world, he leaned back propped up on his elbows and wiggled his toes. This was the life – a full belly, a soft blanket and an entire summer afternoon with absolutely nothing that needed doing.
He laid down all the way, clasped his hands under his head and stared up into the tree. Above him the leaves, more shades of green than he could ever count, swayed back and forth. He closed his eyes and listened to the wind as it played through the branches and rustled the leaves. Somewhere in the distance a flute began to play.
The melody, small and shy but oh so curious, grew slowly louder as it crept closer. Careful it stole through the lows, hiding here and waiting there. It paused. Dashing forward the tune leapt off the middle of the scale and slapped an unsuspecting high note out of the air, before it giggling returned to the safety of the deep end.
Enar's face broke into a smile as his mind joined with the music. The flute settled somewhere in the shade behind him, but the melody danced on, slowly exploring the trees and setting its sight on the world beyond. His imagination followed it around, weaving through the leaves and skipping from branch to branch, higher and higher. In his thoughts he waved to Elsie as he flew by and smiling she waved back.
At the top of the tree a woman's voice joins the flute in wordless song and he throws himself from the highest branch and swoops down over the field at the speed of thought. The grass stretches out before him, an endless savannah in the afternoon sun. A man's voice breaks open a new part of the song and large animals appear, a huge herd of buffalos, thousands of hooves shakes the ground in thunder as they race toward the setting sun. He passes elephants and giraffes, tigers and zebras. Far off in the distance an enormous landwhale makes its ponderous way to who knows where.
Little silvery bells ring out and the voices of children fill the heavens with birds. He rises and soars, higher than all of them, higher than the clouds, higher than the sun, to a city in the sky. It's all tall white spires, glistening boulevards and little sidewalk cafes. At a small table Jolene brings him a glass of wine and the flute sprinkles the evening sky with stars.
The music went on but Enar no longer kept up. He imagined himself at the table for a moment longer but it wasn't quite the same without the music. Where was Jolene? He opened his eyes and slammed back into the real world with its trees and leaves and its afternoon breeze. Would she show up like she'd said? The blanket was still soft and warm, but there was a lump in his back he hadn't noticed earlier. She probably wouldn't, but you never knew. He sat up to readjust himself and have a look around. Maybe he could spot her somewhere nearby.
Behind him, at the center of the hall of leaves, in a cloud of glowing bubbles, a bald woman danced. Dressed all in white, a short tunic and a long flowing skirt, her movements were an embodiment of the music. When the melody flew and soared, she jumped and her skirt became wings that carried her back to the ground. When the tune slowed down and went low, she melted like cream in hot chocolate, sensual and fluid.
Every now and then she'd pop one of the bubbles, seemingly by chance but always perfectly in time with the music. The bubble would explode in a little fountain of sparkles and a new one would appear somewhere else.
Enar had to look away. He had to make sure he wasn't already in another daydream. Around him everything seemed normal. More people had arrived but there was still enough room underneath the trees that everyone could find a spot of their own, without having to intrude on anyone else. Some, like him, watched the dancer but many ignored her and just enjoyed the music, face up and eyes closed.
Next to the dancing woman, just safely out of reach, stood the other monk. He was still in his grey robes and apart from his fingers moving across the flute he stood almost completely still. He may have rocked very gently back and forth, but Enar couldn't quite tell if it was really him and not just the wind in his clothes.
Enar looked around to see if he could spot the choir as well, but couldn't find them. Instead he saw Jolene and all other thoughts disappeared. She had discarded her waitress' apron but wore the same brown dress as earlier. As she moved it swayed, back and forth in time with her movements. She danced. With slow graceful movements she danced on her own among the resting fylkin on their blankets.
Jolene's dance was nothing compared to that of the monk's, but Enar couldn't take his eyes off her.
Where the monk danced with elaborate skill and perfect timing, Jolene danced with joy and passion. She sometimes missed a step and she didn't always hit the beat, but it didn't matter. She seemed so happy, so free of cares and troubles. The way she smiled to herself as she wove her arms through the air made him grin so wide his cheeks started to hurt.
She crossed her arms abover her head and spun around. As she completed the pirouette she lunged forward, threw her arms back and looked him straight in the eye. Enar's heart stopped. Jolene looked him straight in the eye. Straightening up she blushed a little, smiled and raised a hand to wave.
He sat frozen for a moment. She was there. She'd seen him. She'd waved and smiled. Blushing, he smiled and waved back and Jolene started dancing again. With her eyes fixed on him she made her way towards where he sat. Now, unlike just a moment ago, her every motion was perfect and in time with the music. She flowed across the grass, floating on the notes of the flute, sailing with the voices of the choir. Her feet barely touched the ground.
She stopped a few steps in front of him, threw her arms wide, spun around on one leg and fell over in a little heap right there on the blanket. Enar just stared. The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen had danced for him and now she lay panting on his blanket, close enough to touch.
The way she'd fallen left her legs bare to the knees and Enar got a good look at round calves covered in a fine blonde fur. He noted, with some excitement, that she wore it straight and unbraided; a style which he quite fancied. It had long since gone out of fashion back in the city, but it reminded him of his time at the university and the girls he met there.
After a few more deep breaths, Jolene turned around, sat up and started readjusting her dress. Enar felt his face heat up and he tore his eyes away so she wouldn't catch him staring. He swallowed and tried to think of something to say.
Satisfied modesty was reestablished Jolene scuffed around, to sit with her legs crossed, back to the monks and facing out over the field. She gestured for him to do the same and then sat completely still for a while, eyes closed, breathing. Enar waited, motionless, until she turned her head and arched an eyebrow. Only then did he turn around and scooted over to sit next to her.
He fidgeted a little and then clasped his hands in his lap to stop them from fiddling with whatever was within reach. He looked at the grass waving in the field and flicked a speck of dust from his knee. He studied the leaves in the tree above and smoothed out the blanket in front of him. He scratched an itch on his nose and jerked away so wildly he almost fell over when someone touched his knee.
Jolene placed a soft, but firm, hand on his arm, leaned close and whispered in his ear, “sit still. I don't bite.”
She drew back, but her hand lingered on his arm as she studied him. After a moment she smiled, nodded and made a thumbs up sign. With a little shrug of her shoulder, she started digging through the pockets of her dress.
Enar, cheeks burning, stretched out his legs, planted his hands behind him and leaned back. He forced himself to relax and shut his eyes. She was just a woman, just a friendly person; someone nice he'd met who was just hanging out here with him to keep him company. That was it.
Maybe they'd have a chat later on the way back, but that would probably be all. Nothing else would come of it. Better not get any ideas. He wondered in what direction she lived. He took a long deep breath and then another.
The flute kept playing, the choir kept singing and Enar kept breathing. Somewhere behind him, deeper in the shade under the oaks, a monk danced in a cloud of glowing bubbles and on the blanket, right next to him, sat Jolene.
He opened his eyes to look at her again. He was calm now. She was still there; sitting with her head tilted back and blonde curls falling freely down her back. Through slitted eyes she gazed up into the tree and beyond, starring off into nothing, at something only she could se.
Enar sat very still, unwilling to risk bringing her out of the zone. Not only would it have been rude, and borderline heretical, but he also rather enjoyed the opportunity to just sit there and watch her. The way she smiled, like a cat napping in the sun, made him all warm and fuzzy inside.
She exhaled, and let out a small puff of white smoke that soon dissolved in the air. This was it then. This was what Rolf had been warning him about. Typical. Jolene did look so very relaxed. He hoped she wouldn't offer him a puff. He wasn't sure he could tell her no, even though he'd promised. Well, technically, he'd only promised himself and he hadn't told anyone about it, but still.
Jolene opened her eyes, and with a smile she offered him her pipe. Enar bit his lip, looked from the pipe, to her, and back again. He raised a hand, paused, and instead of taking the pipe from her he rubbed his chin; unshaven – ruggedly handsome or unkempt slob?
She waved the pipe in front of him, urging him to make up his mind already and he did. The prettiest woman he'd seen in, like, forever, had offered to share a smoke with him, but he would be his own man with his own mind, so he shook his head and declined her offer.
He regretted it right away, as he'd known he would, but it was too late. Jolene had already put the pipe in the corner of her mouth and with a mischievous smile she pulled in. Enar took a deep breath. Sure, he'd been strong and independent, and sharing a smoke didn't mean anything really, but he still worried he'd missed out. If she offered again, he'd definitely take her up on it.
He waited, studying her as she puffed, but no second offer came. Instead, she leaned near, put a hand flat on his chest and blew a mouthful of smoke in his face. She was really close. The smoke smelled of apples and honey. Her eyes filled his view. The world bent. There's that flute again.
With another dazzling smile, full of sparkling eyes and blonde curls, she increased the pressure on his chest and pushed. Not resisting at all Enar fell back on the blanket and lay there, just lay there, with his arms wide staring up into the dancing leaves while the flute sang to him.
A moment later she joined him. He could feel her lying down, her back against his side and her head resting on his outstretched arm. She was warm and maybe she vibrated a little, like a purring kitten. Her heel rubbed against his shin; her soft fur a gentle caress against his skin.
Then the flute and the choir and all the rustling leaves ganged up on him and swept him away.
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Continued in Day 2 - Interlude A .
Back to Enar's Vacation .