The Day After The Wedding

 

           The morning after the wedding dawned cloudy and grey. It seemed like summer was over. Foggy low clouds hung in the tops of the Douglas firs like indistinct banners. White, or maybe pearlescent grey. One of those colors no one can agree about.  The air was heavy, but it was not raining yet. The sky was just lightening.

            All the talk was winding down. Ralph was tired and Ramona and the kids were sleepy. Twigg and Cherry were leaning on Ramona, blinking and yawning. Berry and Bob had curled up together under the table after crunching down the scraps from the roasted ducks.
            Ralph woke Ooog up enough to tell him thanks and goodbye. He woke up the cats and took Cherry into his arms. Ramona and Twigg got up and they all started down the trail for home.
            At the home clearing Ralph told Ramona to go ahead and put the kids to bed and herself and that he would go walk around for a bit and think. “I’ll be back when I think I can sleep,” he said.
            “Don’t get lost now,” said Ramona with a sleepy wink.
            “Don’t worry baby, I know where you are,” Ralph said, and gave her a little smooch.
            He wandered out by his big Cedar log. But he didn’t feel like staying there. He was still too restless for a log session. He kept going deeper into the forest. Rain started to come down. Rain was no problem to Ralph; it was just a moody atmospheric thing. It suited him.
            A white deer slipped past him. His eyebrows went up a bit. This was news to Ralph. He wasn’t aware of any white deer in his forest. He didn’t pursue it. He felt there might be something special about this deer and didn’t want to mess around with anything fey.  
            He left the trail. He enjoyed drifting ghostlike through the underbrush. It was a great advantage when hunting.  But he was not hunting today, at least not for food.
            Since he was going downhill, he eventually reached the river, further along its length than the spot where he usually went with his family. Here the river was wider and deeper, since it was not a dry year. Close to the opposite side was a large slow moving whirlpool. He had never seen this before either. It called to him. Ralph was very fond of water.
            Taking big long steps with the water splashing up to his knees and his feet slipping on round river rock down on the bottom, he entered the river and headed to the spinning pool. Once there, he lay down in the current and floated on his back slowly around and around. His eyes closed and he rested there.
            He felt fish drift past his fingers. But he wasn’t there to grab fish today.  Maybe later. His broad hands floated loosely in the turning stream.
            He thought of his mother, who never had an English name. He remembered her older manner of speech. He remembered her tactilely. Soft fur, strong arms, gentle songs, quiet brown eyes. She was much taller and darker and broader than his Ramona. She was of the forest entirely. Around and around, he floated, remembering her. He had not seen her in so long that he couldn’t recall the last time or place that he had seen her. He missed her.
            At last, on one of the trips around the pool, his bottom scraped the rocks near the riverbank. He sat up and opened his eyes.
            What he saw was his father. Massive, forbidding, feral. A presence like no other. Never seen by any human person. He was obscure. Remote and monumental as the rocks that made up the mountains, essential. 
            His father didn’t speak. He crouched on the riverbank. Deep dark eyes looked at Ralph, neither smiling nor grimacing, but looking on with quiet affection.
            At last, the great figure stood. He was a good head or more taller than Ralph. He turned, silently walking away among the misty trees, a mighty shadow passing into an unknown history. In seconds the visitation seemed like it must have been a dream.
            Sitting chest deep in the chilly water, Ralph shook his head. He raised his own hands and looked at them. He remembered then the feeling of older days, timeless forest life.
            Ralph walked through the water, to the other bank, once more stepping through those big round river rocks. He wanted to go home and sleep now. He felt insubstantial and very deeply tired, like perhaps his body was lagging behind him a step or so.
            When he got to  his home clearing in the woods it looked so sweet and precious that he nearly wept again.  Then he laughed at himself.  “Ralph, old buddy, you’re going soft in the head,” he said aloud.
            Instead of going inside to the bed and all that he loved, he lay down outside the door on the forest floor. He curled up like a child, throwing his arm up over his face to keep the rain off and he slept there until early evening when Ramona woke and came looking for him.
            She woke him with kisses.  Then she got the fire going again and made some dinner, while he and the kids and cats waited. As always, she made a fine dinner and it was a good day, though they were all still a little sleepy.