It's Just Like My Dream!

 

Pacific Crest Trail

            Before Marge left town, she drove down to Grand Ave. and parked in front of the new French bakery. She wanted to buy some fancy pastries for Twigg, and maybe his family, in case she got to talk to them. This wasn’t the usual doughnut type place. Everything had French names. So, she just picked four types, and bought three of each. She laughed because the rather startling sum could be considered an investment in her future, if one looked at it the right way.
            She put the box on the floorboards in front on the passenger’s side, so it couldn’t fall no matter how many times she hit the brakes.
            Marge didn’t like the freeway much, so she drove eastward out of town and connected with old highway 9, and turned north. Then she drove up to Arlington and made the right turn onto 530. It was a pleasantly rural drive, even though the sky was low and cloudy and looked like rain. Soon, she made the right turn onto SR20. Next was the right turn onto the small gravel road where her mother lived at the very end right before the path leading out to Thaga and Ooog’s house, and then the meadow and her meeting place with Twigg.
            It was always a little tricky parking by her mom’s house without going in to visit. Fortunately Hondas are quiet. It was more a matter of timing than anything else.
            Under the cover of greyness driving a grey car, Marge ghosted past the front of Enid’s house and parked near some bushes just beyond. She came around to the other side and shouldered the ever present backpack, and taking the box of pastries, she closed the door quietly and locked up.
            It was just before noon. She had timed this well.
            Bushes full of raindrops pushed in from both sides of the path. It must have already rained up here earlier. Carhartts and a puffer jacket are pretty good rain gear, with one of those goofy rain hats.
            Nobody was in evidence at Thaga’s place, though there were lights in the window.
            As usual, Marge got there first. She didn’t sit because the ground was kind of wet.
            But very soon, Twigg appeared. He made no sound.
            “Hi, Margie,” he said as he came around the Gifting Stump.
            Looking him over and sensing his size all over again, Marge said, “No bees today, Twigg?”
            “Oh, yeah. On days like this they are sleepy and stay around the hive,” said Twigg.
            “Makes sense. It doesn't look too floral out here today. Hey, look, I brought some goodies. I was hoping to maybe talk to Ralph and Ramona,” said Marge. She lifted the lid a little so he could peek in.
            “What’s up?” said he.
            “I’ve just about decided to change my life totally. I want to be in the forest. I’m able to work and I’m thinking about the Forest Service. Stuff I’ve been reading said I should talk to a ranger to see if there are any volunteer positions around here.
            “I’m tired of that room I live in. My classes seem meaningless. I don’t need them. No school can make a person into a painter. Either they are or they aren’t. You know?” said Marge.
            “How can my dad help you?” said Twigg.
            “Well. I remember that he is friends with the local Forest Service ranger. You told me about them pretending that there are none of you guys around here and how they work together to keep the secret. I thought that was pretty cool, and I was hoping for an introduction, to tell the truth,” she said finally.
            “I’m pretty sure he would do that. Let’s go see,” said Twigg. “I’ll carry the box if you like.”
            As they set off for the Home Clearing, Marge in front and Twigg behind, with the box of pastries, a great big black bird was circling in the sky overhead.
            The last time Marge had entered the forest here there had been a strange transitional moment when she entered. It had been almost like a dimensional shift. This time she just walked right in.
            “What happened, Twigg? Why didn’t I have to do that shift thing this time?” said Marge.
            “I think the forest knows you,” said Twigg. He smiled his sweet brown eyed smile then.
            “Really?” she said, looking around in wonder at the huge fir trunks and small flowers along the path, and the huckleberry bushes and salal. She put out her hand and touched the leaves as she walked.
            “It’s just like my dream, Twigg,” she said.
            “You’ve been here before twice now,” said Twigg.
            She walked slowly remembering the way to the Home Clearing. Bob and Berry saw them coming and greeted them with tails swinging together and cat smiles on their faces. Then they turned and preceded the friends down the path.
            As Twigg and Marge neared the center, where the fire was, a white wolf dashed out, circled them, and ran back down.
            At the center, sitting by their fire were Ralph, imposing, humorous, curious, and Ramona, serenely presiding. Cherry sat on Ralph’s knee, watching Marge come in with Twigg behind.
            “Blue, come to me,” said the little child on her father’s knee, and the wolf ran up, licked her hand and settled down at Ralph’s feet.
            “It’s good to see you again, Marge,” said Ralph. “It’s been too long!”
            “Welcome, Marge,” said Ramona, “Please sit by our fire. I bet it’s been raining out there hasn’t it? If you have time, I’ll make coffee.”
            “Thank you both. It is a little damp out there,” said Marge, completely charmed, as she took a seat near Ramona.
            “She came bearing a gift of French delicacies,” said Twigg to the group in general, before sitting beside Marge. “She has a question to ask.”
            “What can I help you with?” said Ralph.
            There he sat, smiling, waiting for the girl to speak.

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