What we allow the mark of our suffering to become is in our own hands.” ― bell hooks
To ride between the wings of a majestic bird can only be left up to the imagination and in that domain the experience even then is nonsensical. As the children soared with the Kukulas they were not limited by such reasoning. The extraordinary birds climbed higher than they had ever ascended. The thin air at that elevation was cool. The children had goosebumps from the change in temperature if not from the exhilaration. Guided by a timeless tempo as if they were the most exceptional musicians in an orchestra the Kukulas reaching the crest of their climb ceased their motion, waited for the wind current to fill their extended wings and drove diagonally far out to sea. The salt air along with the rapid speed of their flight caused the children to blink repeatedly as their lowered heads were fixated on the vision before them. Their hair was constantly thrust wildly behind them. The birds sensed their rider’s sadness. This excursion was their effort to show the children what wonders await those who can rise beyond their suffering. The Kukulas shifted with the changing wind and headed back towards the beach near Mana’s dwelling. On their return the children spotted an ancient family of whales surfacing to the top of the water spouting great fountains of water before they descended once again. The rider’s hearts raced as fast as the great birds. Bird and human were both liberated from spiritual boundaries.
Ahead the waves broke over the beach. The Kukulas landed beyond the breakers resting on the moist sand. As Nathan descended his bird, Whitney’s grip lingered on the Kukula’s sturdy shoulder blades. She pressed her head affectionately on the bird’s back before she too got off. As the children walked away the magnificent birds extended their merlot necks prominently, they flapped their wings repeatedly without ascending the air in a boastful display. They filled the air with their cry, “kukula, kukula.” They were answered by their flock circling above. Drawn by an extinct older than reasoning the birds joined their flock in the sky soaring to the heavens.
Mana, Shadow, and Hairy were waiting for the children. They regarded each other in their manner where words would not limit their understanding. For the first time Whitney realized that Mana’s smile captured all meaning of expression. She returned the gesture to the progenitor.
“Shadow half new liddle butty Naton,” Nathan nodded warmly at Shadow who held Hairy in his arms.
“As long as I am still your buddy Shadow.”
Yesss, Yesss, Naton alwasss SSShadowsss butty,” Shadow exclaimed closing his almond shaped eyes as he swayed his head side-to-side. The group remained on the beach for a time clinging to the ineffable experience that they had shared before Mana, Shadow, and Hairy turned and walked away.
Nathan and Whitney sat down on the beach. Clouds formed casting an extended silhouette over the expanse of the beach.
“That’s the way I’ll remember him.”
“How’s that?” Nathan replied entranced by the waves.
“Standing there waving to us. He was so happy. The last thing I saw was that smile, the same mischievous smile like that cat in the story. He’ll always be that boy with the Cheshire cat smile.” Nathan shook his head in agreement comprehending Whitney’s recollection. “Nathan?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe in God?”
Nathan considered the question for a while, “I asked my dad that once and he said that such a simple word was as good a way to describe something that can never be defined. That’s something I have always remembered even though I still don’t get it.” Whitney shook her head as she studied her cousin. “Then Dad said that the most important question that I could ever pursue, for myself, was ‘How did something come from nothing?’” Whitney marveled, recalling her memory of Nakuset. The children sat in contemplation as the clouds began to dissipate. “I still don’t get it, but I do know that I understand a lot more now,” Nathan concluded as the sun broke through the vanishing clouds.
At that moment the children sensed a thundering conveyed through the sand. They looked along the beach until they spotted a herd of beasts approaching in their direction. The children regarded each other apprehensively.
“Are those the dragon steeds?” Whitney inquired. Nathan did not respond until the herd could be discerned.
“No, those are horses!” Nathan exclaimed. The pack of ten shires stampeded along the surf. The ocean water sprayed upon the horses’ powerful chests. Their hooves left deep imprints in the sand. Several breakers eventually would wash away the imprints leaving any evidence of the appearance of the herd only in the children’s memory. The horses galloped beyond the children unconcerned with them. Whitney and Nathan watched until the herd disappeared down the distant beach.
“I think that those were the horses that those people in the cave brought with them,” Whitney reasoned. “We found stuff like the saddle blankets that were used for horses,” she continued. “It’s good that they’re here where no one can tame them again.” Then they sat together in silence. Eventually, even the sound of the wind and the surf receded until there was only silence.
Nathan woke up to the smell of pancakes. He rose from his bed changed into a pair of Nike shorts and a t-shirt and headed out of his room. He saw that the bed in the guest room was made. He headed for the stairs before he returned to his room to get a cap. He reached for his Red Sox cap before deciding that the maroon and beige suede No-Fear cap was a better choice. He went down the stairs where he heard voices in the kitchen. As he entered the kitchen he saw Whitney seated at the breakfast table.
“Good morning son,” Nathan’s father greeted him, “I’m making pancakes. I thought that Whitney loved chocolate chip pancakes, but she insists on blueberry this morning. What will you have?”
Nathan smirked at Whitney, “I’ll have blueberry too.”
“Okay,” the father responded a little confused. Nathan sat at the kitchen table across from Whitney. The children did not speak. The father brought their plates to them. He poured them each a glass of milk before he joined them.
“I don’t want to rush you, but we have to hurry. You two were sleeping so soundly I did not want to wake you, but Whitney’s parents will be here shortly to pick her up. So we’re running late again this morning.”
“Don’t worry Uncle Hugh, Mom says she knows you usually run late,”
“How are the pancakes?”
“Great,” Whitney responded.
“Nathan,” I know that you like to tease your cousin, but I wish you would be kinder to her when she visits. Yesterday, just before dinner, you were being mean to her,” Nathan looked at his father, but before he could respond Whitney interrupted.
“It’s okay Uncle Hugh, we were just having fun. I tease him too.” The father studied both children as he attempted to comprehend a change that he sensed. After breakfast Whitney’s parents arrived. As they were getting ready to depart Whitney’s mother inquired, “Honey, is your sweater in your backpack?”
“Debbie, I have looked all over, but I can’t find it. We’ll bring it with us,” Nathan’s father replied.
“If you can’t find it, it’s okay,” Whitney explained.
“I thought you loved that sweater?”
“I do Mom,” Whitney said as she and her parents got into the car and drove away.
“We have to get going too Nathan. We don’t want to be late for the celebration at the cottage.”
“Right, but can we stop by the cemetery on our way?”
Nathan’s father studied his son’s face considering the request.
“Sure Nate, I think that’s a great idea. I have to go upstairs to get our things and then we’ll leave.”
Nathan opened the door to the garage. He walked over to the ladder and removed the hedges from the box and returned them to their place in the garage. He climbed the stepladder and inspected the nest. The tiny birds trembled before him. He carefully cradled the nest in his forearm as he descended the ladder. He brought the nest to the backyard resting it on the trampoline. Nathan returned to the garage to retrieve the ladder. He struggled to carry it to the backyard. He leaned the ladder against the maple ensuring that the ladder was balanced against the tree and had a sturdy footing on the ground. Nathan gathered the nest and its brood. He climbed the stepladder reaching the wide top of the ladder. He braced himself using his free hand to cling to a limb on the tree. Determinedly he climbed from limb to limb until he reached the forked limbs where the nest had rested. The thinner limbs swayed with his weight. He carefully placed the nest securely where it had been. As he descended the tree he shuddered when he heard his father bellow from the deck, “What do you think you’re doing up there? We don’t have time for this.” Nathan’s father approached the tree, “Be careful coming down from there,” he said stabilizing the ladder as Nathan reached it. As he descended the ladder Nathan’s father lifted him and placed him on the ground. Once again, he studied Nathan’s expression.
“I had to Dad,” Nathan offered. At that moment the father recognized the only explanation he required. An inexplicable understanding was conveyed, something timeless born from instinct that no words could express. Father and son walked towards the garage.
After they had departed the mother robin returned to the nest inspecting her brood. Her celebratory whistling filled the spring air.
The remembering of an event changes with time, some believe that the memory enriches the event just as some things lost in a moment can never fully be restored.