A Place in the Forest, Part V

Mava sat at the edge of the rock pool, her feet submerged in the cold crystal water, letting the raindrops pelt her.  The pattering of rain blended together with the rush of the waterfall and the susurration of the trees, creating a smooth wall of sound on which her thoughts skated.  But no matter how she turned the confrontation over in her mind, Ivan’s behavior remained a locked door to her.  This was an unfamiliar experience for Mava, whose seven senses usually allowed an easy understanding of the world around and within her.  Was this what made her friendship with the human boy so compelling, she wondered.  Was she simply tantalized by her own inability to fully know him?

As if in answer to this question, a barn owl appeared in her clearing with a silent swoop of its great wings, settling on a branch on the other side of the pool to stare intently at her.  Mava stared back, and the two of them held a long gaze that seemed to make the air between them contract and tighten.  Then the owl ruffled its feathers free of rain and scrunched them up in a fluff around its pale, mask-like face, blinking slowly as if it had decided she was not that interesting after all. What are you doing out in the middle of the day, anyway? Mava asked silently. I’m not in the mood for a lecture. In response, the owl yawned hugely and tucked its head deeper into its shoulders.   With a sigh, Mava slid down into the pool.  The green dress billowed up on the surface for a moment, then began to sink as it absorbed water, swirling around her legs like seaweed.  She floated there, rain hitting her face in a continuous staccato rhythm, disrupting the surface of the water with tiny splashes and ripples.

Whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, she knew what the owl was telling her.  Peeking up with her third eye she saw it was watching her again.  Remember, it admonished her wordlessly. Remember what you know.  Its impossibly black eyes widened further; Mava felt it looking deep into her.  Suddenly it turned its head with uncanny speed to look over its right shoulder.  Then without a sound it was gone.

“How am I supposed to remember what I know if I don’t know what I know,” Mava protested. “Couldn’t you be a little more specific?” She splayed her pink hands out on the pool’s surface in front of her, imagining she could pull answers from the water itself.  She recalled Ivan’s face, lit up from the inside with anger.  She remembered the orange light that radiated from him when he placed his lips on hers.  A kiss, he had called it, a human gesture as mystifying to Mava as the emotions that accompanied it.  She had sensed his fear, too.  And she had felt that strange new sensation in her own body, the same as when he touched her nodes.  Mava sensed that if she wanted to, she could let it rise within her even now.  It was pleasurable, yet vaguely alarming in its newness.  And yes, compelling.  The unknown beckoned, promising something entirely different from what she had experienced before.  

Mava let the energy of the water come into her, replenishing what had been drained away by the strange interaction with Ivan.  She had never felt so suddenly taxed.  She summoned her five-pointed star, breathing it into and then out of herself.  Gradually, she became aware that the others were reaching out to her.  Are you at your place? they were asking.  She told them yes.  What is that? they asked. What you’re feeling.  We don’t remember feeling that before.  Mava took a deep breath and let herself slip underwater, watching the raindrops break the surface from below.  She imagined the world upside down, the rain falling from out of the pool and down into the sky.  I don’t know, she responded.  Come home, they told her. Come closer so we can feel it better.