He could make out the porch through the trees now. At the table Beired tinkered with something over a large bowl. By the steps stood Linnea, leaning on the railing. When she saw Enar she waved and came down to meet him. She might have glanced at his hat and he couldn't tell if she'd smiled or not, but at least she didn't say anything. Instead, she put a finger to her lips and motioned for him to follow her.
Enar looked from Linnea to the porch. The table, where his breakfast would be, stood there – not out under the trees. From where he stood the table looked rather cluttered, but surely there would be room to fit a plate and a mug for him over at the end where he'd sat the previous mornings. He just wanted to get his breakfast done and over with – not go scampering through the orchard.
“Psst, Enar, this way.” Linnea whispered and, again, waved for him to come along with her.
When he caught up with her she turned and set off on a narrow path along the hillside Enar hadn't walked before. Soon they arrived at a large blushberry shrub, nearly as high as the surrounding apple trees. It grew in a horseshoe shape around a little hollow dug out in the hillside. Large flat stones covered the ground in the dugout, with grass sprouting through the cracks between them.
Against the back wall, still shaded from the sun by the thick bush, stood a blue, wooden, bench. The paint gleamed new but the unevenly rounded planks hinted it had seen a lot of use throughout the years. He saw no table; not even a picnic basket.
“We can wait here,” said Linnea. “Mom will be done soon.” She went over and sat down on the bench, just on the edge, as close to the left side as she could get.
“What...” Enar's voice still rasped against the inside of his throat. He covered his mouth and coughed. “What are we doing here? Didn't you say there would be breakfast?”
“Yes.” Linnea blushed. “We have to wait a little. Mom's working.”
“Working?”
The girl plucked at her dress, making sure it fell right and covered her knees, which it did, by a long margin. “Yes... She decided you needed something to pick you up a little so... She's mixing something together for you.”
“Oh? Like a medicine?” Enar walked over to the bench and sat down he too – over on the right side.
“You don't have to worry.” Linnea hurried to say. “There won't be any side effects. She's very good.”
“Side effects?” He hadn't worried before. He'd just wanted his breakfast; not that he was hungry, but eating helped.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. Please don't worry.” She bit her lip. “Don't tell mom I said anything.”
Brilliant, just brilliant. Enar closed his eyes and tried to shut the world out for a bit. It didn't work. “Don't worry. I won't tell.”
“Thanks.” Linnea wrung her hands.
Enar looked away, at the bushes around them and the flat stones on the ground – out over the orchard. Someone had cut away the trees nearest down the hill from where they sat and no branches blocked the view of the valley below. A cloud vaguely shaped like a teddybear, or maybe a bowl of fruit, drifted south at a snail's pace far away and high above. He could sit here a while.
Clearing her throat, Linnea tore the silence apart. “This is our alone-spot. We come here when we want to be alone and think for a bit.”
“Ah, I see.” What was that medicine about?
“It's always very quiet here – and the view is good too.”
“It is... it is.” Some kind of local pain killer maybe. Probably some special root of some sort.
“Yes, and before Karl and Paulette got married they used to sit here and talk and... such.” Linnea blushed. “When she came to visit.”
“Ah, nice.” Roots from around here didn't have any side effects, right?
“Me and Erik, we used to hide in the bushes and try to spy on them. Karl got so upset.”
“Mhm...” The brochure would have said something. Who was Karl again?
“Yeah, but then Karl told mom and she had dad take us down to the tannery for an entire day.” Linnea made a face. “I never smelled something so bad all my life.”
“I see.” He'd be fine, as long as he got some breakfast. No tannery though.
When Linnea didn't reply he looked up and found the girl starring back at him.
She swallowed. “I'm sorry Enar. I keep babbling. I'm sure you just want some peace and quiet. I'll go see if mom is done. I'll be right back.” She stood up and faced him.
“No, no. No worries at all.” Enar smiled up at her and tried to sound cheerful and earnest. “It's fine, really. You can sit down again.”
“Just wait here and take it easy. I'll be right back.” She turned and ran.
He looked after her, long after she'd disappeared and her footsteps had faded away. Sighing, he clasped his hands over his belly and leaned back on the bench. He'd do as she'd said. Enar, Master of Easy, that was him. Peace and quiet; he could do that. The trees and the blushberry and the hillside on the other side of the valley. The cloud definitely looked like a teddybear. He closed his eyes and took it very easy.
“Hello! Enar! It's done.”
Linneas words arrived just before the girl herself and Enar started awake.
“I'm sorry Enar, I didn't mean to scare you. Mom's done, you can come have breakfast now.”
Enar blinked a few times and stretched. “It's okay. I just nodded off a little.” He squinted, yawned and got to his feet. “I'm coming.”
“Great. Just follow the path back the way came. I've got something to take care of over there.” She pointed in the opposite direction to where the burrow lay.
Enar looked but only saw more trees. Some kind of apple-business probably. He didn't dare ask; what if she decided to explain. “Sure thing, I'll find my way.”
“Great.” Linnea started to say something else, but stopped. Instead, she turned and headed off. “Have a great day Enar,” she yelled over her shoulder.
Enar stood and looked after her. When she disappeared among the trees he shrugged and began walking back towards the burrow and breakfast table. Maybe he could come back later, when he was feeling better.
Back on the porch Enar found Beired waiting for him, still sitting at her usual seat, where he'd seen her earlier. In front of her on the table lay a thick cutting board made of stone and beside it stood a heavy mortar and pestle. Spread out in a disorderly jumble around the board and mortar stood a plethora of jars and tins, pouches and little bags; probably full of herbs and roots and other nature-medicine things he didn't know.
When he arrived she looked up and greeted him with a smile. “Good morning Enar, sorry to have kept you waiting. How are you feeling?”
“Well...” he scratched his head and looked away, at the hanging chair where he'd sat last night. “I'm okay I guess, sort of.” He coughed and put his hand up to cover his face. “Just a bit of the morning after, you know. Nothing major. I'll be fine.”
“You look like shit.”
Enar blushed. “Um... Yes, sorry. I...” He looked down at his feet. “I'm not at my best.” She was probably right. If he looked even half as bad as he felt he should be happy they didn't have a mirror in his guest burrow. “Sorry,” he said again.
“No worries. I've got something to put your head back together. Did Linnea explain about it?”
“Well, she said you were doing some kind of medicine?”
“She didn't explain then.” Beired sighed.
“Oh...” Enar hesitated. “Is there something I should know?”
“Here.” Beired pointed at a small, bone white, pipe sitting on a stand among the jars and tins. A faint trail of smoke wove its way up from the bowl. “You already know how to smoke a pipe and that's about it.”
“Really?” Enar looked at the table with all its tins and pouches.
“Technically, yes.” Beired smiled up at him. “You should sit down though. The third puff will be unpleasant, but only for a short time. Other than that there's nothing you really need to know.”
He nodded. The secrets of the hills again. “I see.”
“Good,” said Beired with a grin that said he had no idea what he was talking about. “Now sit.”
Enar pulled out a chair and sat down. Beired pointed at the pipe and nodded for him to go ahead. He picked it up and weighed it in his hand. Much lighter than he'd expected. The light played over the surface, creating an illusion of thick, rolling, fog. Mesmerized he stared at it.
“Cloudswool,” said Beired. “Family heirloom.”
Enar froze. “Oh...” Don't drop it. Don't drop it. Don't drop it. “I've never seen one of those before.” He swallowed. Not an illusion. “They're very rare aren't they?”
“Very.”
He looked at her. Cloudswool pipe, herbs and roots; what was he getting himself into? Maybe he should do like Linnea and run for it. He could deal with a hangover. It'd go away on its own eventually. Beired looked him in the eye, and said nothing. His stomach clenched.
Hands trembling Enar set the pipe to his mouth; smooth and cold as ice cream. He closed his eyes and drew in the first mouthful of smoke. The taste of warm apples and cinnamon filled his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs; first the one and then the other. The summer lay before him, long and warm and full of endless afternoons and sunsets. Tall green grass tickled his toes.
Slowly he released the smoke and looked over at Beired. She smiled and nodded and knew. Short and round and with the longest, blackest, hair to ever fall down a pair of shoulders she knew everything there was to know about him; his every secret and his deepest wish. She knew and understood and accepted him just as he was. He tilted his head and smiled back.
The second mouthful came with mulled wine and the moon, frost flowers on the windows and the crackling of logs on the fire. The flames warmed him without and within and kept him safe and whole; a heart beating through the winter night. Nothing could hurt him here.
He released the smoke and somewhere out in the snow and ice a wolf sang a song of deep, ancient, forests and cold, lonely, mountains. In the silence that followed the falling snow became the flowers of the trees in the orchard and the heat of the fire the morning sun. Beired smiled and nodded. He wanted more.
With the third mouthful came salt and the screaming of gulls. Dolphins laughed and sang. Wave after wave crashed over him, lifted him up and spun him around in a dance with the elements. His mom yelled for him not to go too far out. He giggled and got water up his nose, and giggled some more. Striking out for air the surface was nowhere to be found, it was all light and water and bubbles. He had no idea what way was up or where he was.
Enar flailed. He kicked and screamed. His lungs filled with water and his ears ruptured. The light in his eyes escaped and joined his final breath as it raced for the sun. From within the bubbles he watched his body sink into the abyss, further and further down. At the last moment, before it disappeared forever, a dark shape come up to meet it, maws open wide. Then the air burst through the surface, merged with the sky, and everything went back to normal.
The apple trees came back into view like they'd never been gone. Beired sat where she'd always sat, holding the little white pipe. The table still held all it's tins and jars and the morning breeze still hummed through the orchard. Everything was fine.
“Wow.” Enar breathed a sigh of relief, and then another – just because he could. “That was amazing. I never want to do that again.” He blinked a few times and put a hand on the table, making sure it was really there.
Beired put the pipe back on its stand, it's bowl now empty and its surface still. “How do you feel?”
How indeed? He thought about it for a moment, checked with his body to see what it had to say, but all that came back was a quiet grumbling from his stomach.
“I'm hungry.” He blushed. “I mean... I'm fine. I feel great, like new. It's all gone. It's just... I'm really hungry.”
Beired laughed. “Don't worry dear – the husband will be out with your breakfast any moment.” She looked at him in silence for a bit. “Sorry about that. It's a devious blend. I hope it wasn't too bad on you?”
“It was...” Enar shuddered. “It wasn't that bad. It was okay. I'll be fine.”
“You're a lousy liar Enar.” She shook her head at him, but her eyes smiled. “You're right though; you'll be fine. It's no worse than a bad dream.”
“True, and I do feel a lot better now.” He did. Stronger, cleaner, younger. Like he'd just woken up, fresh from a good night's sleep. “What was that thing?”
“Hillside's Remorse. It's a version of Anna's Breath, adapted specifically to deal with hangovers.”
“Anna's Breath? Isn't that really expensive? Can you even get the ingredients for that
here.”
“You can actually. The master gardener at Storvak is exceptionally talented when it comes to making things grow. He and I have worked together on making sure we have all the medicinal herbs we need here in the hills. Fortunately, we've never needed the Breath, but if it came to that, then we could make it.
“You're right though, it's costly. What I gave you isn't nearly as bad, but it's still rare. You'd better not go and get yourself hung over again. I won't be able to blend you another pipe.”
“I won't. Promise.” Not that he'd smoke that pipe again willingly anyway. “I wasn't going to do any drinking at all out here.” He coughed and looked away. “Or, well, not that much at least. I don't mind a drink with the meal or so. Just, you know, not getting drunk.”
Beired nodded.
They sat like that for a while, enjoying the morning in silence, each with their own thoughts and Enar relishing the feeling of not aching all over. He could go see Jolene now, if he wanted to; he wasn't quite sure anymore. Full-time country-side life probably wasn't for him. It was nice and all, but he'd miss the comforts of the city, like electric lights and not having to argue with the tap to get water.
“Enar my friend. Good morning to you. That's a nice hat you've got there. How are you feeling?” Rolf set down a tray covered by a tea towel on the far end of the table, where there was still some space. He came around to Enar's side and started moving jars and tins out of the way, stacking them on top of each other on the other side of the table. “So sorry about last night. I don't know what I was thinking; three full mugs, and you fresh back from walking all day. You must have been an absolute wreck this morning.”
“Well, I wasn't at my best, that's for sure.” He'd had worse, and recently too. Not to mention when he was at uni. “I'm fine now though. That's the main thing.”
“Beired took you on one of her crazy trips, did she? How'd you find it? Horrible, isn't it?” Rolf uncovered the tray and pushed it over in front of Enar.
A pot of tea and a mug. A small bowl of beans and two bread rolls. A plate of sausages, pudding, eggs, bacon and mushrooms. All steaming. Enar's mouth watered. “Wow, that's what I call a breakfast. I thought it'd be just leftovers from earlier.”
“But it is my friend, it is.” Rolf laughed. “Just because we let you sleep in a little doesn't mean we forgot about you. There's always enough for everyone at this table.”
Enar blushed. “Thank you, Rolf. You lot really are too kind to me.”
“Nonsense, now eat before it gets cold.”
He did, and it was good.
“Aaah...” Enar let out a long breath. “Dear me. I couldn't eat another bite.”
Rolf laughed. “Good to hear you're back to your old self my friend. You're ready to take on the day then? I've got some actual work I need help with.”
Enar burped. “Oops, excuse me.” He blushed and covered his mouth. “Yes. I think I am. Soon. Just gotta let this settle first.” Smiling, he patted his belly. It would veto any plans involving movement for the next several minutes.
“Hah. Had too much have we?”
“No no... No. I've had precisely as much as I intended. Not too much and not to little.” He slammed a fist against his chest and released another burst of air. “Okay, maybe a little too much.”
“Don't you worry my friend. Just you sit there for a bit. I'll go grab the tools we need. Be back in a few. Don't go anywhere.” Rolf chuckled to himself as he headed for the door, leaving Enar alone at the table.
Beired had long since collected her herbs and roots and all the other little pouches and packages and disappeared with them back into the burrow. Only the cutting board and the mortar and pestle still sat on the table waiting to be carried off to some cupboard somewhere.
The cloud that looked like a teddybear had long since departed and no new ones had come to take its place. Hopefully the day's work wouldn't be too hard. Sitting there in the sun he could still feel all those miles from yesterday in his legs.
“Where did Rolf go?” Beired appeared and sat down in her chair.
Enar didn't answer right away. There was no rush. Beired wouldn't mind. She had time. A gust of wind hummed it's way up through the orchard, rustling leafs and branches. “He went to get his toolbox. Should be back soon,” he said when the trees had calmed down. No need to shout to be heard.
“Ah...” Beired nodded. “Did you have a good time yesterday?”
“I did.” He thought for a moment. “That tree. I think it liked me.”
“Good. I'm glad you saw it on a good day. It can be a bit grumpy sometimes.”
“It must be very old?” Enar scratched his chin. Definitely time for a shave. “It felt like it had stood there forever.” He'd probably have a few grumpy days too if he had to stand in the same spot day in and day out, year after year.
“It has...” Beired starred out into the orchard. “As far as you and I are concerned, it has.”
“Do you know what kind of tree it is? I've never seen one like it before?”
“No. I don't.” Her jaw set firmly. “The old tree keeps its secrets to itself.”
“Oh?”
Beired paused for a moment before replying. “I hear you got along with Bolvar in the end. Nice dog isn't he?” She shot him a big smile.
“Err... yes. Yes, very nice. We got along fine.”
“Happy yo hear it. Did you meet anyone else out there? The path isn't much used, but some people prefer it to the road.”
Enar grabbed his mug from the table and remembered it was empty. He put a hand against the teapot and found it had gone cold. Not that he really wanted any, but still. “No, I didn't see anyone at all. Just me and Bolvar – and a bunch of sheep on the hill.” He forced a laugh. “Not even a sheepherder.”
“Yes, the shepherds usually stay low on the hill. The sheep are safe as safe can be anyway.”
“Ah,” said Enar. “I see.”
Beired did not reply. She closed her eyes ands turned her face to the sun. Enar stared off into the other direction, at the hill with the tree where he'd sat yesterday. He was pretty sure he looked at the right hill.
“There we go my friend. Ready to get moving?” Rolf set down a dented old toolbox on the table. “Do you know where the ladder is,” he asked Beired.
“Elsie wanted to build a tree house the other day. It's probably out there somewhere.” She nodded down into the orchard.
Rolf sighed. “I wish she wouldn't be taking after me quite as much.”
“Me too,” said Beired and then they both grinned at each other.
“Right, Enar. I'll have to go find the ladder. Will you grab the toolbox and wait for me down by the road. I won't be long I think.”
“Sure thing, I can do that – won't be a problem. I'll see you down there.”
---
Continued in Day 4 - Scene 4.
Back to Enar's Vacation.