Beyond the Farm

Beyond the Farm, but still a part of it, there is a woods. And in that woods there is a creek and trees and all the animals who live there (Who and what they are we will never know, because they refuse to introduce themselves. They simply scamper away and hide every time a certain Farmer’s Wife attempts to begin herself, leaving their footsteps as the only clue of who and what they are).

The Farmer’s Wife (again) stands on the edge of the creek and looks longingly past. So many potential friends! And they are RIGHT OVER THERE!

“What are you doing?”

Her Mother shrugs, still looking.

“Do you want to go in with me?”

The Farmer’s Wife turns to Hannah in surprise. “Over there? Past the water?”

“Sure. I do it all the time.”

The Farmer’s Wife’s jaw hits her chin. All the time? How is that possible?

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

And so, she does.

Hannah takes her Mother’s hand and pulls her towards a tree that has fallen down and is now laying this way and that.

“On no!” her Mother exclaims, now seeing her plan. “I’ll fall in for sure!”

Now. There is something you may not yet know about the Farmer’s Wife. She lacks in the…well…how do you say it now…a certain dexterity. A grace, if you will. That type of finesse which allows regular people every day to regular things like Hannah right now. See her there as she climbs up and over and onto that big tree? She how smoothly she’s going about it? That’s not the way with the Farmer’s Wife.

“Come on. You can do it,” Hannah calls out, clearly not knowing her mother as well as she thinks.

The Farmer’s Wife gulps and sets a hands on the gnarled roots which make up this end of the tree.

She grasps on and pulls, setting a foot where her hand has just been. This process is repeated several times over until she’s right on the center of the tree, where it looks over the creek.

Here is where she stops.

“I can’t!!!” she cries, gripping her arms around the belly of the tree, while the creek surges beneath her. The tree laughs a bit, trying to shake her off, but she clings on tighter. The creek gurgles, welcoming her in.

Hannah sighs heavily from the Other Side and climbs back up the tree bridge until she’s straddling over her Mother’s crumpled form.

She sits down, legs dangling over the water. The Farmer’s Wife peeks up at her daughter, who is looking beyond–at something on the Other Side.

Carefully, very carefully, the Farmer’s Wife releases her grip, gets to her knees, and sits up, next to her daughter.

The creek sighs and moves along. They won’t becoming more intimately acquainted with the Farmer’s Wife. At least not yet.

Hannah’s legs dangle and sway. The Farmer’s Wife smiles. Her legs dangle and sway, too.

Silently, they watch the Other Side.

Ten minutes pass. Fifteen.

A squirrel scampers by. A frog jumps into the creek. A faun steps past with its mother.

The Farmer’s Wife silently waves, very happy to have (finally) made the introductions.