Chapter Sixty-eight

THE ANDERCHRONICLES

By Me, Ellee

[WARNING: The following story has been rated FNF*]
*Fiction NOT Fact

"A Thousand Beautiful Memories"

‘Moonset . . . Sunrise’ Ancient Indian legend tells of moon chasing many stars across night sky until sky world is empty. Great orb of fire arrives to claim morning, licking up dark shadows . . .

Somehow I couldn’t get all this Indian legend stuff out of my brain the next morning. Andy and I had stayed up late searching the pages of Forgotten Ancient Indian Rites so we would have a complete and thorough understanding of how the uniting as one ceremony would unfold. One thing that really caught my attention was the tradition that any couple who had made their declaration of wanting to be united as one forever, not just in this life, but in the great spirit world beyond, must be found in possession of a thousand beautiful memories that they had made together. If the tribal elders determined that they did not have them, they would instruct the couple to return home, make beautiful memories together, then come back in ten moons. As I thought about this, I came to the conclusion those tribal elders knew what they were doing. Memories are what bind two people together, and if they have a thousand of them, their chances of being together forever are a thousand times better.

Nice thought—A Thousand Beautiful Memories. I went to sleep thinking about it, hoping my dream catcher would hold onto them. I wondered if Andy had gone to sleep dreaming of this also.

The next morning, as I stood looking out the window from my second story bedroom, I wondered where all that green fog from the night before had gone.
I couldn’t see a trace of it anywhere. I even questioned if I had actually seen it. I mean, given my history of hallucinatory incidences since joining up with Andy, I realized this could be yet another one. Nevertheless . . . Andy had been there. He had witnessed it, as well, and I think would freely admit it. Could we both be given to fanciful illusions now?

As I became aware of the surrounding forest, I realized what I was seeing was a true miracle—the miracle of the gentle lily. They were now growing literally everywhere, as far as the eye could see. After all these centuries, they had finally come back. But why? And why now? They were simply spectacular! I wondered if Andy had seen them yet. All at once, my breath caught—they seemed to be bowing in my direction, but as I looked closer, I realized it was only a tiny breeze ruffling over them. Still, it stunned me for a moment.

Then, quite abruptly, my attention was pulled away from those flowers to a moving something in front of me; something black, something furry, something with eight legs, something with eight rather large eyes—A SPIDER! And she was lowering herself down from the ceiling . . . and . . . and she was stopping right there at eye level! I sensed when the adrenalin kicked in and I was now poised, ready to let go with my usual blood-curdling spider scream, when just in time I remembered that Indian legend Andy had recited the night before. If it was true, and I certainly hoped it was, she was there only to watch over me. As I looked at her, she smiled at me . . . oh alright, she didn't really smile, but it was a lot easier coming face to face with a spider, thinking that she was.

Just then I heard his footsteps coming down the hall toward my room. Then I heard,

“Hey, Ell . . .” He had never called me that before. It sounded rather . . . well . . . endearing. “ . . . “there’s still no electricity; I’m on my way down to build a fire for the first of our ceremonial repasts. Come down when you’re ready.”

The first of our ceremonial repasts meant breakfast, but the Indians hadn’t call it that, and I knew it wasn’t going to be the usual ‘brown gob’—as Andy calls it—of oatmeal. Each meal to be consumed by the prospective bride and groom on the day of their uniting as one ceremony was special, and the foods eaten that day all represented something important—and the first repast was always, by tradition, buffalo liver boiled with dandelion root, of which, I was certain, I was not going to be enamored. In fact, I wasn’t even convinced I could get it down, but Andy reminded me it was for a good reason. I only hoped that book knew what it was talking about because I wasn’t eating boiled buffalo liver for anything BUT a good reason.

Then it struck me—this was my wedding day! Well, alright, not exactly MY wedding day, BUT since I was the stand-in for Gentle Lily, I felt almost like a bride. I wondered if Andy felt almost like a groom. Did I dare ask? I immediately decided that would be unwise.

There was so much to do I knew I couldn’t waste any more time deliberating about these things. I had to get ready. Part of the uniting as one ritual required the bride and groom to wash in the creek prior to dressing in the customary wedding attire, but I told Andy I wasn’t going to wash in the creek, and hoped that wouldn’t nullify the ceremony.

“Ellee, what’s wrong with washing in the creek,” he had asked?

“It’s just not my idea of a fun bath.”

“It’s not supposed to be funnnnnn—it’s ceremonial.”

“But Andy, the water’s cold, and there’s no bubbles.”

“Bubbles! Ellee, what are you saying? Of course there’s no bubbles!”

“Well, I happen to like bubbles in my bath, Andy.”

For a minute he seemed stunned, maybe even speechless. I don’t think he really had a firm grasp of bubbles in a bath. Nevertheless, when verbal capacity finally returned, he suggested that perhaps we could take a dip in the ocean, in place of the creek, mentioning that there would be plenty of bubbles as the waves roiled ashore. I agreed—that suited me much better than bathing in a creek with green algae and water slugs.

So shortly after consuming our first repast of boiled buffalo liver and dandelion root, which, by the way, was really much, much worse than I could have ever anticipated, we took a ceremonial dip in the foaming waters of the ocean. The bubbles were fine, although salty, but the water was cold. However, I didn’t complain.

When our ‘bath’ was completed, as per the book, using Sweetbay magnolia leaves as soap, Earth Mother decided a bath just might be in order for the land and everything on it, to make sure it too would be spotless for this important occasion. So she opened up the great canopy of heaven and sent forth a fine spring shower, washing everything around us. The great fire orb even sent warming rays through the downpour, causing the earth to sparkle and shimmer as the water drops caught its light. Everything, including Andy and me was then sparkling clean.

After drying off on the beach, we began shaking our hair . . . I mean, I began shaking my hair—Andy, of course, had absolutely nothing left to shake, thanks to his barber, who had recently taken leave of his senses— and we noticed those little water droplets flying all about us looked like a thousand glittering diamonds as they were flipped into the air. We laughed and tried to catch them.

When we got back to the house, we laid out the next step in these preparatory rituals, which required us to drink together from the traditional, two-sided Indian wedding vase, an herbal tea of blueberries and pine needles steeped in sunlight. This, along with the bath, according to ancient tribal elders, would ensure that the bride and groom could offer himself or herself to the other in a pure state, and be blessed by the Earth Spirit. But just as important, the book instructed, by cleansing with water inside and out, the matrimonial couple were honoring ‘water,’ one of the three forces of the universe, as part of the ritual and by so doing it became a living prayer to ensure that the marriage would never thirst for love. I liked that idea—so romantic.

As we sat next to each other sharing this traditional drink, Andy sipping from the spout on one side of the vase, then me from the spout on the other side, something incredible happened. As the steam from the tea arose, it enveloped not only our face and eyes, but seemed to permeate our hearts, as well, and felt like it was infusing our spirits with absolute clarity of vision, far beyond the mundane. For those few moments, we could really see each other—past the corporeal, right into the very core of the soul, unveiling each to the other, like a curtain had been drawn away. It was electrifying, revealing, and personal, leaving us both awed and breathless.

And while in this revelatory state, we were permitted to see something extraordinary, something defying logic. We were able to see a thousand beautiful memories—memories that could only belong to Running Deer and Gentle Lily. There was no question now—they could truly be united as one and be together forever. My heart swelled for them, and I knew they had shouted for joy. But . . . that wasn’t all we saw. There were other memories, too. Memories which did not belong to Running Deer and Gentle Lily—they belonged to us! We, too, had a thousand beautiful memories. We saw them. We felt them. They were all there. At this moment Andy cried out, “Ellee!”and reached to touch my face, but I was so overcome, all I could do was whisper, “Andy,” as I touched his lips. The emotion of this moment seemed as powerful as a thousand supernovae and just as explosive.

And when at length, after this infusion of enlightenment subsided, once the ceremonial tea was consumed, I waited for Andy to say
something . . . anything . . . anything at all . . . in response to this incredible vision we had just experienced together, but he said nothing. The thought crossed my mind maybe he was waiting for me to say something, because he just looked at me questioningly for the longest time, but finally said,

“What did you see, Ellee? . . . Did you see the memories?”

“Yes . . . Andy, I saw them.”

There was a long pause, the question in his eyes lingering.

“ . . . W-w-who did they belong to?”

“ . . . to Running Deer and Gentle Lily . . .” I began my answer, but no sooner were these words out of my mouth than the questioning look changed to one of intense sadness like I had never seen in his eyes before. I then heard an audible sigh escape his lips and his gaze fell to the floor, like the weight was just too much.

“ . . . and . . . ” I went on, his eyes then immediately flashing back to me, a tiny flicker of hope manifesting.

“ . . . I saw our memories, too, Andy.”


Bye for now,
Love,
Ellee