Amber Trips the Light Fantastic, Chapter 3

 

AMBER TRIPS THE LIGHT FANTASTIC

By Robin Jenkins

Chapter 3

The Garden

Amber walked amid the flowering bushes. There were rose trees and jasmine bushes and honeysuckle vines; there were mock orange bushes and lilac bushes. On the ground, she saw grass and patches of clover with tiny lavender flowers. The air smelled like a pot of wild honey.

As she bent down to sniff a rose, she noticed sunlight glinting through dewdrops. All about her, she heard the chattering of birds as they fluttered between branches. Rustling in the breeze were leaves the shape of silver dollars.

As she bent down to sniff a rose, she noticed sunlight glinting through the dew drops.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a huge, upside-down tree. The roots stretched up into heaven and the branches curved downward like an inverted cup resting on the ground. As she turned her head to look at the upside-down tree, it disappeared.

“Wow!” thought Amber.

Nonchalantly, she pretended not to look for it. She turned her head back to where the tree had been before, and stared into the distance. In the corner of her, there it was again.

“Geez,” said Amber, “That’s unreal, or is it real? It’s almost as strange as Ms. Phoebe getting old all-of-a-sudden.”

“Nothin’s old as dirt, Baby,” said a low, rocky voice.

“What?” replied Amber, looking up, down and sideways for the speaker.

“I said – Nothin’s old as dirt. Think about it.”

Amber jumped. “Who said that?” she demanded.

She picked up a rock and threw it at the ground so that dust was raised.

“Watch it, Pipsqueak,” groaned the voice.

The voice seemed to resonate from underneath her feet.

The ground began to shake and a rumbling noise grew loud. Amber watched a large crack open in the ground and move steadily toward her. Trying to get away from the crack, she ran first in one direction and then in another, but whichever way she ran, the crack followed.

Amber was locking herself into a bad situation. The pattern of her footsteps nearly cut a circle and if that were to happen, she knew her little patch of ground would sink into the bowels of the Earth.

“Oh, no,” she said, staring down into the chasm.

“It’s like a volcano in there.”

She closed her eyes and steeled her nerves to be boiled alive in hot lava.

“Ha-a-a, Ha-a-a, Ha-a-a-,” came a low, rolling laugh.

The laugh was low and drawn out. It sounded almost as low and as drawn out as Time itself. With every laugh, the crack healed so that finally not even a blade of grass could be seen to have been disturbed.

Amber gave her most suspicious look to the ground. She was known for her special, suspicious look.

“Who do you think you’re playin’ with? Kids?” The voice echoed back upon itself.

“I’m Earth,” said the voice. “Old Mother Earth and the Spirit of Time. ‘Dust thou art and to Dust thou shalt return. I can change this garden into a desert, a swamp, a mountain. I am the stuff of volcanoes, of dinosaurs and of rose petals. I am what matters. I am Mater.

Mater, Mater, Mater,” echoed the voice.

As if seeing a mirage, Amber saw a face, an old wrinkled face in the dust. As the face formed, the lines wavered like heat waves, and then they smoothed out perfectly. Where the face had been, a lily sprang up and bloomed. The white flower opened right up into Amber’s face and gave off a wonderful perfume.

“Who made you?’ asked Amber.

There was no answer.

“How old are you?”

“Ha-a-a-a, Ha-a-a-a, Ha-a-a-a,” laughed the voice. A tremor shot through the garden.

“That’s like asking you how many cells are in your body. Do you know what cells are? They’re me. The number is irrelevant. All that matters is Mater. Me-me-me!”

“She’s an opera singer,” said a sprightly little voice. Did you hear that? Me-me-me. An opera singer. Four trillion, 5,000 million. That’s how many trips she’s made around the Sun. Big Deal. Who counts. Who cares? The Sun’s more important. The Sun’s a Bigger Deal that she is.”

“Over here, Kid. I’m over here – on the rose bush. “No, no, not the one with the red roses – the one with peach-colored roses. Look on the label, it’s called ‘The Queen’s Cheeks.’ There you go, getting warmer, warmer – yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Amber found herself staring at a long, green stick-shaped bug.

“It’s a praying mantis,” said Amber.

“Twiggy. Just call me Twiggy,” said the bug. “Very glad to meet you. Say where’d ya get that blonde hair? How’s about I call ya Vanilla, Vanilla Manila Gorilla. Hey, you every been in Manila? It’s full of gorillas. Ha-ha-ha. What’sa matta, Cupcake? Can’t ya take a joke? Say, I know a real nice ape you’d just love to meet. Only problem is he’s chocolate. Your’re not one of them prejudiced apes, are ya?”

“I’m not an ape,” said Amber. She didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted. Amber’s dignity was very important to her. She was used to being told how pretty she was.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry. I guess you’re not really an ape. Listen, Kid – that’s right. You’re a goat, aren’t ya? Listen, Kid – don’t you pay any attention to that dusty old egomaniac, opening up the ground and all. She does that for everybody – just try’na show how important she is, that’s all. There’s a lot more to it, to life, I mean – than some old piece of dirt who won’t even tell her age. Notice how she shut right up? Never says anything when you call her bluff. Never says a word. It’s like she can’t even communicate. She just is. She is What is. Say, Kid – Don’t let me monopolize the conversation. What ya doin’ here, anyway? Ya on some kinda mission?

Ya lookin’ for somethin?”

“No,” said Amber, “I don’t really know why I’m here. I just keep going from place to place and I don’t know why.”

“That’s what they all say,” said the praying mantis.

“All who?”

“All the souls – you know, the people, the bugs, horses, cats, dogs, elephants, you know what I mean. The souls that are locked up in matter, or are matter, you know matter, who thinks she’s so important? Takes ‘em a long time to figure it out.”

“Figure out what?” Amber asked.

“Where they’re going.”

“Where are they going?”

“On the path. That’s all I can tell you. That’s all I know. They’re all on the path.”

“The path to where?” Amber asked.

“Nowhere and Everywhere,” said Twiggy. “Listen, I have to do the Twenty-Three Skidoo, Bug Off. Ya’ know what I mean?” I’m hungry and I don’t eat when I sit around philosophizing with pretty little Vanilla Gorillas, Dig? Got to help Nature keep her balance.”

And off hopped Twiggy to another ruse bush.

Amber decided she was hungry, too. She took a stroll around the garden and found many fruits to eat. She thought of Mr. Diptera, wishing he could be in the garden, too.

“This place if just perfect,” she said. Wouldn’t he love it?”

There were bananas and strawberries and coconuts and rasberries and cherries and peaches. There were cashew nuts and almonds and peanuts and walnuts.

“I shall call this place the Land of Fruits and Nuts,” said Amber.

There was a waterfall and a pond. There were fish and birds and lizards. Amber thought she saw a deer scampering along a hillside, bu the animal moved so fast that she couldn’t say for sure what it was.