Those-Who-Watch

Shine was fully awake, the unfamiliar sensation began just as all her receptions did, with a vibration. But this was different.

Dumpling's full moon cheeks filled in the bedside. She reached for Shine's thin arm and started to sign into her palm, "Hungry?" She spoke just as she would have done years ago.

Shine answered, "Seaweed soup swimming with egg noodles." That was something to smile about! Her words were sloshy like listening to the sound of waves riding over boulder tops.

Dumpling was a mix of surprise, relief and sorrow tumbled with hunger. Except for cinnamon toast and tea the rescue party had not eaten. Stan Costa was taking care of that part of things. She wondered whether seaweed soup with egg noodles would reach him.

The round old woman continued to answer through words signed into Shine's palm. Smiling, now that she realized what was going on Shine said in her deep watery voice, "Aunty D I can hear. While I lay in bed, maybe a couple days, or nights ago. It all started with a simple single repetition. NA NA."

How thoughtful of Those-Who-Watch to ease the girl into the world of sounds through the chant. These two, the round one and the girl who was more than just a little bit whale knew how vital the hum was. Each of them in their way made connection to essential factors through that low, slow utterance. Dumpling let one of them out ... 'hmmmm' and then gave credit. "It was Aka."

The fat Hoku Moon was indeed momona in her brilliant holoku, the gown of golden light bright through the upright presence of Trees. The webs that had held him fast released their grip. Fracturing at each spot of potential, the silver threads were drops of spider web and rain. A kind of blessing thought Aka's twin.

The beams of moonlight were the triggers. Wherever Lanalana and her kin go when Spider Season is pau, the exit is quick. On this particular Hoku Moon the children of the Silver-haired Raven and his Border Witch mate watched as the webs went through their metamorphosis. The young magician named for a powerful river wept. Tears of a magician named for a river went unnoticed. It was one of those tricks he had gotten very good at.

"Will you stay awhile now?" Aka was bundling up the silky threads into a sticky ball. There wasn't much to it, but, she would find a use for it.

"I'd like some food." The large bill or beak of a Raven is substantial, and it had been secured for four days. The birdman quickly shifted to human.

"Cinnamon toast. Apple pie?" His sister wiped the last of the webs onto her jeans.

"Funny. But no, I have this strange craving for a bowl of seaweed soup and egg noodles."

"Ah," said the collective voices of Those-Who-Watch, "the story continues." An untrained eye would think those were clouds passing in front of the Hoku Moon. But others with more practice with kilo recognize Those-Who-Watch in all their many holoku.

Half a moon

"It's not that you are no longer a caring mother," Lanalana was back in her own web. Semi-symmetrical the shape of the net far from orderly it was a mash of chaos to the uninitiated. From the corner, rather than from its center the Great Spider conversed with Pale.

"Your son has slipped on Grief, mistaking it as a permanent destination. He is young, talented and much loved by so many. But. He is young."

"It's his imagination. Stuck to Grief ... momentarily." Pale was privilege to the greater expanse of Border. Her thoughts weren't looking for assurance. She bantered with Lanalana with her own assurances in tact. "The half-half of the plumping  Moon will remind him of those twilight zones of luminous potential. You have entangled his beak." Pale laughed and accepted or maybe acknowledged how sometimes Storytellers need to be reminded of the pause. The Border Witch continued, "He is Male and there is that predisposition to enjoy the straight lines of plot."

Lanalana crawled from her corner as Wasp danced to free himself from her web. It was futile, he would be breakfast, and Lanalana would remember ... and say thank you. "His sister is very well named, mother. Her smile, could and does for many, distract from her bright and dangling magic. She is a medicine bag. Loose, dimpled and ..."

Pale added this: "Aka is patient."

Mahina rises in the early afternoon during the 'Ole times, Aka sat quietly at the table. There was no need to be anywhere else. She sensed the activity next door, but made no attempt to explore. 'Ole. Nothing. Nothing new just yet. Instead the twin began tapping on her lap. With both hands she kept a simple rhythm. Then simple sounds.

Na na. Accentuating the "ah" in each syllable, the sister  strung a web of open ended messages ...

Her brother heard.
The girl Shine heard.
The wind heard.

The sister strung a web of open ended messages ...

The Moon heard.
The Spider heard.
Their Mother heard.

Na na
Nana nana nana nana ...

Nana

Nana
Nana nana nana nana
Nana
Nana nana nana nana
Nana
Nana nana na nana i

Nana
Nana nana nana nana
Nana
Nana nana nana nana
Nana nana na nana i ke 

Nana
Nana nana nana nana
Nana
Nana nana nana nana
Nana
Nana nana na na i ke ku

Nana
Nana nana nana nana
Nana
Nana nana nana nana
Nana
Nana nana na na i ke kumu

One string, many knots

"Did you know nets are strung from one continuous string?" Dumpling's composure seemed to need the question to hold her together. She asked it of the air, the walls, Stan Costa. Still holding the tray of cinnamon toast quickly cooling she didn't stay long once she say Skeena. She hadn't asked for explanation. Aka signaled a give us a few ...  Dumpling thought about telling the loyal sister there was no answer at Maha's. But let the thought pass.

Stan looked up to answer Dumpling's question. "I did know. Tata made nets. My grampa's nets dangling over the handles of old shovels in his gardens. The shuttle of string. Fine cotton before there was nylon. Making knots in patterns. 'Big eye, small eye.' The old time fishermen had more than one kind of net. Tata never rode boat to catch fish, always threw from the beach, or from the reef." It was surprising how questions could tickle all sorts of memories from a person.

The teapot of hot water and peppermint filled the room with the clean scent. Dumpling thought she saw the covers move. A small sound maybe. She set the tray on the nearby table, opened the aster-colored napkins.

"There was no answer at Maha's. I left a message on her answering machine." The gardener and gypsy woman remained old school. No cellphone. No roving technology. Of course the telepathy that was finely tuned made cellphones and ipads redundant. "Have you tracked her instead?" Stan rose from the bedside and crossed the room to join Dumpling. "She's elsewhere ... by the feel of things she and her old friend needed a moment together."

Stan and Dumpling sat at the table. Dumpling poured two fresh mugs of hot peppermint tea. The warm of the smooth ceramic was doing its job. The comfort moved. The toast was buttery and familiar. Delicious, crunchy and filled with just the right number of plump raisins the couple ate toast. Dumpling savored the taste of a good toast, dunked the tips into her tea. When her napkin was empty of toast she finally described the net next door.

The covers on the bed shifted, the bed creaked, Shine was awake.

Installation, constellation

"Like Gulliver. You have been installed." For such a diminutive Lanalana had a clear and peeling voice.

It wasn't often Aka laughed at her brother, she loved him and knew him as herself. She would not interfere, but the Grandmothers! They stepped in and when necessary fed you a story whole.  Lanalana and her family were quick in their artistry, their work as weavers of nets a skill overlooked by the many. Grandmother Spider dangled from her transparent thread stopping within inches of Skeena's entangled beak.

At such a position, the Raven's eyes crossed. He saw two Grandmothers. "For a time Young Magician, you will need to chew on the stories that come at you from all the hipu'u those knots of potential we have strung from here and there. All those people, all those places, all those tricks and illusions." The spiders spun and attached the young man without stinging, that was not necessary he was not their food.

"In the whole of things, we need you and your story as much as you need the stories clinging to you. What is being asked of you is ... reconsideration." The monologue seemed lengthy, and as such things happen only Skeena heard the words of Grandmother Spider. The Raven's beak was held fast but no silk prevented him from hearing and seeing her. And, his mind processed ...

Lanalana kept on. "The Sisters will rise on the horizon soon. On the bulge of this Green Place. Markers Skeena. From there count a full cycle of moon light."

She means to keep me through Makahiki.

Hearing his thoughts Grandmother Spider offered this, "No. We will not keep you bound the whole time, but, long enough for you to feel the gravity of the situation." Spiders do have a sense of humor, and though you have to be especially keen to the sound of it, spider laughter is infectious.

The rain had stopped. Outside, beads of 'ua ka lani caught in the web left empty. "Up high out there, my web and these that install you against the window slow the descent of rain. Water is meant to flow. Nearer the ground and tucked into the hedges around the Safety Pin Cafe, other Spiders collect raindrops for the day. In summer that clan was essential, like reservoirs on eight legs they slowed evaporation. A very big job!"

Where was she leading me? 

"You grow restless from the winding tale, Magician but it makes no never mind. No place to fly. No way yet to move. Timing Skeena." It was the second time Grandmother Spider had addressed him by name. "As in comedy and survival, it's all in the timing. These are the 'ole moon. You have time for reconsideration as is the nature of those moons. When the 'ole is pau, the webs will dissolve on their own. We Grandmothers have a tight network, and long memories. Make the most of the coming new year Raven Child."

Thin sunlight began to escape the ends of the paling clouds. Her story finished, Lanalana moved swiftly through the opened window, her family followed and by the time Dumpling returned with a tray of warm cinnamon toast wrapped in aster colored cloth napkins Ka La the sun was back to his full and present heat.

The door opened in. The spell of the moment shifted.

Through an open window

The Safety Pin Cafe was open every day and served a consistent simple menu: cinnamon toast with as much butter as you fancied, herbal teas with a preference for peppermint, and apple pie. The bread and the pie were baked daily, or more often depending upon the needs on any particular day. Almond and goat's milk whitened teas or were simply poured into shallow bowls for the kitties who loved being served without reservation.

The town had grown, and shrunk with time but through it all the quality of The Pin's common magic was its most valuable offering. Some knew to come for it; most found it on days ducks loved, and today was just that sort of day. The squall came suddenly and with great gusto. The window to the smallest of the three rooms upstairs was left open. First one and then the other Raven tucked their beaks and head through and landed softly on the backs of two wooden chairs.

"Your timing couldn't be more perfect," Dumpling pulled the window shut, well nearly. Even with the pouring rain a sliver of opening called for the fresh air. Let us breathe said the walls. They were used to the feel of Saratoga Pass against their enduring coat of pale lavender milk paint.

The siblings shifted slowly from feather to flesh in no hurry to move from the betweens. Leaving them to make their adjustments, Dumpling opened the bedroom door, quietly shut it behind her and crossed the hallway to the largest of the three rooms. She said, "They're back Stan. I'm going downstairs for a tray. How is she?" Dumpling looked from her man to the girl who still slept with the faded denim patchworked skirt wrapped like bunting. Her arms were freed of cover. Pillows surrounded her for reassurance. "She hasn't moved an inch. But her breathing is deep and regular."

"I think it's time to get Maha," next to Pale the Apple Tree Gardner aka Gypsy Woman was Aunty Everything to Aka and Skeena. "The boy will need to plant some of the ..." Dumpling struggled for the word.

Stan offered, 'bile.' "Her son is churning from anger and Maha can help with that. Slowly but surely she will offer the next best steps." Stan sat close to the bed, alternating between a gentle stroke across the young woman's broad forehead and squeezes applied meaningfully from her shoulder to the ends of her fingertips. First one shoulder, then the other. While Dumpling pursued tea and made a call the bass playing botanist's attention was caught by the activity of Lanalana, a spider. She was cleaning house.

The winds were cluttering her web with Hemlock needles. Built under the generous eaves Lanalana might be able weather the squall. Unaware until today of the diligent care involved in web maintenance Stan watched as all eight legs dislodged the offending needle. A piece of Nature that could not feed her was not allowed to simply litter. "Nature's Efficacy," he whispered, still working the muscles of Shine's arms. The musician never ceased in his amazement for the order of All. Food/Not Food. Live. Die.

A thump across the hallway. One of the chairs fell against the wall. Skeena retained his Raven, the chair he'd landed on jarred the wall beneath the window. He wanted out. "Wait, please wait," Aka knew never to interfere with the trajectory of a Beings choice. The St. Joan's Wort had worn off and she had nothing more. Their mother's presence was still fresh in this room. She felt it, and of course, Skeena felt it. "Where will you go? The ones who love you most are right here, or on their way here. If you leave now the mending will take longer, the songs will gape, the wound will fester."

In his human form Skeena would have no trouble with the window, and even as Raven, the window ought not to have been an obstacle. That it was was sign enough the Magician was tangled and his energy? The Raven with the silver-band of feathers rapped hard against the open window. From her side Lanalana considered the sharp sound piercing the windblown storm gathering force. Rap Rapraprap. The Hemlock sent no more needles, but the irritation of sounds became a drum beat. Lanalana used the sound to call the Others.

Through the open window one, two, three and then a dozen, two dozen and more came on their eight legs. Rap Rapraprap. The Raven caused the drumming. The spiders came. The spiders came. The spiders came and began to weave their nets in seemingly delicate, yet formidable silk threads. Rap Rapraprap. Rap. Rap. Rap. And then it was quite.

Two and two

The men emptied the last of the bitter ale, laughed at the joke Jacob shared about the latest tattle going on in town. Something about a Bunny Round-up. The Surveyor collected the two green bottles and tossed them into the plastic bin with circling arrows.

"That's some mean homebrew," the shorter of the two men with tools said. A burp punctuated the compliment. "I like the label. A few of them could do it. Put you there." Jacob's tall green bottles wore beautifully rendered capital letters in deep blue against a pale green background. Two "T's" separated with small white italicized letters a n d. Enjoying the companionable distraction of men enjoying a beer,
Jacob laughed and nodded. "Would you like another?"
"No, no. Geez we came down for ..." The tall upright man broad shouldered with legs that bowed either from lack of calcium or too many hours on a horse found himself lost with why they were at the Public Access. Jacob did not add nor subtract from the men's state. His attention to his company never veered though he did look up when two Raven flew low and away as he walked the men to their truck.
"Thanks for the brew."
"Happy to shoot the breeze, anytime. You see my truck, come looking for me I'll be about somewhere close."

No amount of explanation would have mattered. The gatekeeper did not expand on the meaning of the two blue T's and only later, much later would the men remember they had been at the end of the road near the Public Access. The tide was as high as it gets for early Fall, the Twins were airborne and for now, Jacob and Rabbit were just two friends considering the direction of the Winds.

"You hear any of that chit chat?" Jacob asked Rabbit, who was busy digging a new tunnel at the back of one of the barrels.
"I did. 'specially loved the part where you never corrected the short one who might have thought the label referred to the boom boom boom ..." The two friends laughed at what they knew to be the truth of the letters.
"Winter's gonna be drier than most Jacob. Mud might get cakey. Good you raked in that kelp when you did. Will break down over your garden beds real nice." Rabbit changed the subject, making it clear just what was important.
"Those Raven kids. The boy? Did he make the most of the remedy left by his Ma?" Rabbit was very fond of family, and had the heart broken over and over again from loosing brothers, a father, a cousin. His kind multiplied because they had a lot of ground to cover. It took a score of them to keep up with all the predators who counted on them for breakfast, lunch and snacks. Jacob loved Rabbit.
"The way is still in the making Rabbit. Two and two gives you four."
"And if you're lucky there will be more." On his hind legs the Hare did a small jig. The man with the curved spine danced too.

The first trick

The vial of Hypericum Perforatum warmed a place between the breast feathers of the Silver-bird's son. Slowing or tempering his heart? An on-looker could guess. His sister simply held Skeena long enough and tender enough to make the connection to a time of first tricks. That place where innocence was big and curiosity broad.

"I hear the old welder." It was the first time Skeena spoke. They knew it was Alex Santiago he was hearing.
"I was with him as I was at thirteen. We were playing with the coppers. The pennies." Aka listened. She was extremely good at listening. "Tell me more."

"Alex is showing me how to pull pennies and there is a story to go with his teaching. I am in the story. Another and another story. "Now, show me what you've up your sleeve or is it behind your left ear?" A chicken egg still warm popped from behind the boy's ear. The boy loved it when the eggs were still warm. "Sunny-side up then," the old magician emptied the near dozen eggs from his coat sleeve, "or perhaps a omelet as fluffy as feathers?" Into the boy's broad smile the magician tucked a penny minted 1947. Keep it safe for uncommon necessity. Someday the young magician would grow into that understanding. For now he would not hear the spell, nor feel its magic hibernating; it was enough to have it spoken to him. The penny would wait."

The spell of old stories wore like clouds. They came and stayed long enough, as if enough was just that. Skeena felt behind his ear half-expecting an egg to be there. When he smiled the subtle shift had begun. Flow was slow, but, it was starting. 

"I have not seen Alex for ..." The young man had to count to be sure. "I haven't seen him for more than twenty years." Alex Santiago was all spirit now. It was probably why her brother could hear him that much better. 
"Camilia? Does she keep the old shop?"
"No welder's gear, but, remnants and reminders of his trade are everywhere in the old barn." 
"The sign, is that still there?" 
"Yes." 
"Does she still stitch?" He asked, piecing time together as a form of salve.
"She does." 
"I have been away for too long Aka." His fame as storyteller and magician made life on the borders an exemplary frame. It was impossible not to watch him. Many people knew him, loved him, only a handful knew his secrets and even they guessed at most answers.
"You had places to be. Migration. Spreading the gene pool." The two of them laughed at that one. "Never to marry, but in many beds." It was Skeena who said the words and found them sorrowful. 

St. Joan's Wort was working her remedy, her brother's face now more man than bird Aka was grateful as she felt the tide's shift come and go. There was just enough time for a slip of acceptance to come with the next incoming tide. "The girl, Shine. Is she so special that Ma would lele ... on her behalf?"

Aka knew it was a sacrifice done without reservation. She said this, "Shine could easily have chosen to stay away even if Ma chose to lele. Like us the muliwai is a  current easily swum. She could be as much mermaid, or whale girl as we can be Raven. The difference? Well, each of the gifts is unique. Shine has a way with the hum that is missing from the Home Place. Ma knew that."

"Did she." It was not a question, but, was instead one of those breezes that recognizes the feel of something with open windows. An open-ended wind. The tide lapped close-by. Clap, clap, clap. 

The wobble

"They been gone a very long time, Jacob." Rabbit was measuring time from his end of the world. So much was going on at the edge of things. His tangle of Blackberries, his home, was now heaped into slices--the work of men with tools and trucks. Jacob had watched the men and sent word to his long-eared Hare friend in time to save a bit of trauma. Who really needs more chaos was the gatekeeper's mantra. Who truly needs it? Jacob and his wife made room for Rabbit and his wife. There was always plenty of space among the chattel of barrels and compost piles where Beings could safely regroup.

Rabbit was right, Skeena and Aka sat on the Fallen Tree for a very long time. Enfolded in the black shiny wings of magic, the sister kept time from moving. For awhile sorrow must be given its due. Jacob the Surveyor explained to Rabbit, "Just as you are part of the world where men and their tools rip at the story you are telling, those between, the ones who grow ... and thrive on the wobble between worlds need a bit of compost to begin again. A little bit of a long time ago mixed with the promise of something yet to be. A possibility. An unexpected cross piece."

"He is lucky to have a sister then. Someone who has some of that long time ago. A warm pulsing someone who doesn't need words, but can give me songs." Rabbit was no dummy, and no stranger to loss. His nose twitched. "People on two legs are coming." He wondered whether the glamour of Jacob's magic would stay them away from Raven's children.

"There is plenty enough yet." Jacob reassured. "You have business of your own."

"Can you manage without me?" Rabbit was a loyal friend.

"I will miss you. But, I know you'll come if I need you." It was true.

With Rabbit speed the hare was gone, and Jacob the Surveyor turned his attention to the two men but not before the wise advocate turned his arched spine skyward. The moon was already in her other half-lit face kaohilani becoming smaller yet visible to those who knew to look for her in daylight. "Two more rises, Aka. You have two more tides and that will have to be enough." Fall was coming, the season of harvest brought endings. The Girl Twin heard Jacob. Her mother's story makings fed them. "Thank you Jacob," Aka knew the protocol of gift-giving. "I hear."