Jackie blinked through a tear as the Magic Yellow bus turned onto route 17B-West. She vowed it would be her final tear. The warm teardrop coated her cheek, tickling the corner of her mouth like a kiss. She guessed the tear had a lot to do with the dream, which had filled the nocturnal labyrinth of her mind over the past three nights. That dream in which the Hill turned to hamburger mince.
It was all in the past now. From the moment they left the house in the Magic Yellow bus, the memory of the past year had been fading. The journey that Jackie was taking to Bethel might as well have have been a journey through a portal to another dimension.
How many dreams turn to dust?
Her parents broke the news gently, over a cup of hot cocoa and a batch of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies. Paul wasn't coming back. Life was as unfair now as it had been when her spaniel Winchester died of old age.
But he was my friend, my special friend…
Jackie's sister Regina was transforming into something else. Life had become mystical and treacherous. "Live each day as though you'll miss it," Regina said.
Regina. Jackie gazed at her sister's batik print shirt. She could have killed her when they left.
“Anything can happen Reg. It's not fair to them.” Not after losing the boy next door - Paul. Regina pouted, and blew a gust of air, fanning her forehead.
"You need to cool it, sis."
Jackie looked at the surrounding crew. Fifteen worldly seniors, she thought. Regina aspired to be just like Janis, and Janis hd been a partial imputus behind the trip. The rest of the reason for the trip sat next to Regina, driving the bus. The lanky math major laughed along with Regina. Jackie sighed. She may as well have been wedged into another galaxy, a pigeon among the senior cats who jostled, smoked and sang acapella. She gazed out the window, folding her arms over her chest. Trees went past, one greenish flash after the next, the sun streaking through leaves and branches, dazzling her in bursts.
"Things will be different when I return," he'd said. Paul didn't return.
A second tear escaped, and ran down the side of her nose. It tickled her nostrils. Jackie thought her brain would explode from trying to contain the sneeze. She quickly wiped it away with her fingers, checking to see if she'd been caught crying. Two couples necked two seats away. She heard the moist lapping of their tongues. Her stomach contracted, and she held her breath. It was as though they fought to taste each other, she thought and blushed. There was a fragrance in the air -- was it the jay being shared amongst the small group behind her?
Her tears ebbed and she felt as though life's wristwatch waited for this moment. The couples kissed, and she felt new pangs. Happiness filled her empty pockets. Something changed. Jackie returned to the window and closed her eyes. A random verse drifted into her mind.
"You go your way, and I'll go mine. Until the sun shines…"
I'm no Bob Dylan, she thought, and drifted into her own lullaby.
****
A song penetrated her dream, skewering it in places until it danced around her. The delicate chords passed through her skin, as though threaded by an invisible hand. She walked out into an open field, one that had been vacated since whenever. She watched the lone figure before her, and froze in place as it grew upward, reaching a lofty height. Its limbs weren't human. The figure spoke, and explained that he'd been there since the beginning, since the primordial sea lost its cherry to the caressing sun above.
"It gave me my form," it said. Her lips slackened and her nostrils twitched. He then raised his thick roots from the ground and took one step forward.
"I mean you no harm," she said. It neared her, half-man and half-tree, exposing itself to her in the only way it knew. A sea of smells washed over her: cinnamon, sandalwood, frankincense, patchouli, and she even caught a whiff of honeysuckle. Its voice lulled her into a state that she'd read about in Regina's leaflets.
She looked up, shielding her face from the sun, to locate its eyes. It had to see. A branch rested on her shoulder, its crispy green leaves caressing her flesh. She noticed her nakedness and stepped backward.
"You want to climb? I'll show you the world…"
She shrugged, took a step forward, and marveled at its tremendous height. Her fingers rested against its thick trunk. Her dark thoughts evaporated when she touched it. She climbed, her feet taking her all the way to the top, until her limbs trembled from the excitement of it. She'd never climbed a tree. She'd been afraid as a child. The tree stood, its undulating breath caressing her body, cradling her limbs. It accepted her for everything she had. The tree could have been an embodiment of love. She perched her bottom on the highest branch, to bask in the pulsing, yellow-gold rays of the sun. Her hand draped around as much trunk as she could handle; they pulsed together. A few more feet, and she'd be at the peak. She hadn't known ecstasy. It trickled through her skin, accessing her via the bark. Jackie squirmed against the trunk, livening up by the second. It felt so sweet…
The bus screeched to a halt, throwing her forward.
"Easy on the fucking breaks, man!" The man behind her shook his head. "Gonna kill us all before we get there." Laughter broke out. Jackie sniffed the air. That would be the reason, she thought. She'd never dreamt while high. Half-man, half-tree! So much for spiritual enlightenment…
****
They walked, for what seemed like miles. Regina led the march, perky, as usual. Jackie felt weary. Her thighs ached and her calves began to burn at a low flame. Voices passed her by.
"Think it'll rain?"
"Who fuckin" cares?"
Jackie shrugged to herself.
"Three days of heaven!"
Three…She had clung to the number for a few months after Paul's death. The gunfire at his funeral echoed for weeks afterward. Three identical dreams over three nights. She continued her own march, keeping time with the others, placing herself in some faraway place called Vietnam. She'd read about it, and checked it out on her atlas. It seemed unreal to her. Join the dots, from Saigon to Hanoi. Dots filled with burning bodies. She'd retire to the front porch, to gaze up at the gibbous moon and ask Paul the why. The two kissing couples were now holding hands, stepping into Grateful Dead territory with an acapella tune she couldn't recall.
They reached a bend and stepped through a clearing. The world appeared before them: thousands, she thought. the clearning was filled with thousands of people - gathering, dancing, singing.The dream returned, humming against her ear like a serenading lover -- its breath lingered, tickling her subconscious stream. Would they be here if the war hadn't happened, she asked? No one answered. In the dream, Paul sat on the hill. She ran toward him, and briefly admired the lush greenery as twigs snapped beneath her feet. She knelt next to him and struggled to contain the urge to purge. Pain, blood, fear and death hovered over the lush grassy area where Paul sat. His solemn eyes met hers. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. If she could bottle up all of the love within this gesture, she'd be rich beyond imagination.
"We have plenty of time. I'll still be waiting for you."
She knew then, as she knew now. A coin dropped (from heaven?), and she picked up her pace, listening out for each snapping twig. Her eyes found a thick tree trunk dressed up with a yellow ribbon. Looking up, she noticed an owl. Its ancient eyes look out onto the field ahead. Jackie gulped air to quell the salty tides within her stinging eyes.
****
Stepping away from the old, and into the new. Stripping off the old coat, to walk into Eden, semi-clothed. Thoughts whirled around her, and those within her struggled to be liberated. At first, she thought to shield her eyes -- half- and fully-naked bodies sat on the grass. Others stood. It didn't matter. She couldn't latch onto the song being performed, and she struggled to follow Regina's little group as far as she could before her nose succumbed to the first wave of incense.
Jackie stepped over belongings, people ("Excuse me, sorry!"), and sleeping bags. She stripped off her coat, cursing inwardly. Her fingers unbuttoned the first few buttons of her blouse, and she somehow lost her footing, swaying sideways to land on her rear. Regina blended into the growing crowd and disappeared.
"Your butt sure packs a mean punch," a syrupy male voice reached over her shoulder from behind.
"S-Sorry."
"Well lookie here, the Lord's been kind to me today." Jackie looked up into smiling chocolate eyes.
"I've lost my sister." She swallowed, feeling like she did at the age of five when she lost her parents at San Diego Zoo. Her eyes stopped at his shimmering torso. She thought of chocolate, and felt the tide of girlish blushes invade her face.
"Name's Roy. And you are?"
"Jackie."
"Jacqueline? That's pretty. What's the Jackie all about, anyways?"
"When does the music start?"
"It started."
Her mouth formed a small circle. He patted the small patch of earth beside him. "Come. Sit."
Roy reached into his bag. His fingers returned, fine and sculpted. A musician's hands, long and -- she concluded -- dexterous. He rolled away, delicately folding the paper over the moist leaf. His tongue sealed the ends, licking the fine edges slowly. So slowly, she thought. It wasn't until he smiled, and lit up the fragrant smoke, that her stomach folded in on itself.
"Now this is the shit, Panama Red. You wanna climb aboard?" Roy's hypnotic voice traveled up her spine, jumping from one vertebra to the next. Tree-man. "Ladies, first." He passed her the joint.
You want to climb? I'll show you the world.
Her ears cleared, or so it seemed. She registered music, complete with each chord, beat and note. "Doesn't it make you smell strawberries?" She hummed a couple of lines. Roy nodded thoughtfully, and revealed the true nature of his journey: he hitched rides from Seattle to see his man play, including the rougher parts of his journey. Jackie shook her head, puzzled.
"Because I'm a black man, Mon Cherie."
She drifted in and out of the brief past, and the merry present. Make the best of each day, she thought. I'm trying. Lord knows I'm doing my best and I think I can do it as long as I'm with Roy.
"You know, Roy," she began, as she rested her head in his lap. They flew through each act, arriving to Baez's sweet serenading vocals.
"Yes?"
"Thanks for letting me know…"
Their eyes met.
"That you're a black man." She poked out her tongue, and giggled.
"I ought to…" he gripped her shoulders, and pulled her over his lap in one effortless stride, playfully swatting her backside.
"Ouch!"
"You're white, that's for sure!"
They laughed, and the air crackled between them. His legs stretched out, cradling her body. She turned, and collided with his gaze. Roy's chest rose, and his head sloped to the right.
"That'll sting for a week," she said, breaking his introspective silence. His face fell. Did he hurt her? He didn't mean to.
She raised her hand, caressed the hollow of his neck and smiled. Her fingers circled his skin briefly, to rest on his lips. He could easily blend with night, she thought, and bit the soft wet inner flesh of her lip in the seconds following the thought. She needed to touch, to touch base or feel anchored to the spinning thread.
"You're my tree," she whispered. Her finger circled his lips, and she waited patiently, for her wish to materialize. Her jumpy heart mellowed with the first lash of his tongue. Roy's tongue circled. Each lascivious arc drew her into his warm pond. Her thighs slackened and her toes flexed; the sky shifted to indigo. She listened to the human current around them. All the people formed a sea. Roy gripped her arm, pulled her up and spread her lips with one moist swoop.
Her ears perked up to the hundreds in their immediate vicinity; every blanket, sleeping bag and tent was packed with people. Low-burning lamps and fires bestowed a surreal landscape of lights. Jackie thought of serene rivers. She'd read about the floating lanterns of remembrance in Hiroshima; life renewed death and vica versa. Cycles continued; the snake ate its tale. Some slept, while others smoked, or strummed guitars. The remainder danced to a primal tune, one that transcended civilization. She didn't need to see, her body sensed the love. Bodies writhed, lips explored, and the field brimmed with moans and whispers.
Her tongue slid into the soft crevice behind his full, lower lip. She drank, running her tongue along the moist groove until their faces adhered and their lips stretched to accommodate the expanding orb within them. Each moist crackle of their tongues goaded her into guiding his arm over her stomach, until she shivered as his fingers brushed against her tautening nipples. He pressed against her, his chest forming a warm pulsing wall. His heart galloped beneath her splayed hand, and her throat loosened, releasing the breath from her mouth.
"Yes…Keep on…" Jackie moaned, and the tip of her nose slid down his neck.
He kneaded her flesh, her virginal skin. Her breasts tingled, his fingers pinched, startling her senses until the pinpricks began to grate.
"Gee…Roy…" What do we do, now?
She wriggled beneath his hand. Each pinch, roll, and stroke burned her flesh and marked a glowing trail for his mouth. It tasted sweet, he said. He was the sculptor, manipulating her flesh, and his tongue carved trails around her tingling aureoles. Nip, lick, and suck all round. Her fingers sank into his springy hair, keeping him attached as her languor fanned outward, taking in her pussy and inner thighs. The stage dulled, while the crowd continued with their infernal encore; each biological beat, hum, and moan outshone each preening male cricket.
He pulled her onto him. Her knees dug into the cool grass, bracketing his thighs. She gazed over his shoulder, catching sight of a distant tent and the horny silhouettes it contained: the couple writhed against the fertile ground, magnifying the prickling warmth radiating from her tits. Roy kneaded and rolled. Jackie saddled up, her puss marking its territory with a swift rub as she snuggled against his pelvis. Her hips arced, taking her to another town. Bumpity-bump, she thought, squeeze them harder.
The first drop fell, followed by another. She licked her lip and raised her head to the sky. Roy muttered against her ear, baby this and baby that. Babe, why are you wearing panties?
He dipped between her legs, and wrestled with a fiery jewel.
"Sweet Jesus," her voice merged with the light pitter-patter of silver drops. His fingers fine-tuned her flesh, skated blindly along her sticky groove like a bee hovering over the nectar. He played, thumbing for a ride, tickling her to oblivion as her clitoris hummed, only to silence her briefly as he sank into her, teeth bared.
Such contrasts, she thought, rocking back and forth. She licked a trail to his earlobe, swallowing the salt dotting his flesh. His moans relayed his gumption. Her panties came down with a slight tear to the side. He tilted her until her torso arched above the ground; she couldn't recall an asana that quantified the current groove. His fingers uncorked her ardor, tunneling deep and fast. Each frenzied finger-fuck, whorl, and cantata primed the way. He stopped to take a sip, slid his sticky fingers into his mouth and groaned until the fine hair on her arms and torso resonated.
"Why stop? Keep going…"
"It's your turn baby, here," he said, guiding her hands to his cock. Warm, stiff and quite intimidating, her fingers drummed against his warm flesh. Gearshift, she thought, even though she didn't drive. He'd released it during his exploration, when her eyelids closed off the outer world. Would you like to climb aboard? Seamless in its expansion, it appeared to expand in her hand. He groaned, for her ear to gulp his every note, buoying her desire until her two hands stroked the pyre, craving its unknown qualities.
"Are you going to put it in me?" she asked, as breathless as an athlete, heading into the straight -- muscles burning, adrenaline soaring like a falcon against a blood-red sunset. She tightened her grip, slid upward to stopper the warm, bulbous head of his cock. "Please do…"
"I'm going to fuck you," Roy hoarsely replied, "need to…"
"Wait…" she teetered. Her eyes followed her hands, edging into a new domain filled with Elysian delight, and awe. Her knees retreated and her ass saluted the sky. It was her turn to taste, to run her tongue over and around, until she licked the seam that divided his taut balls, moaning all the while. Come on girlie…come on…
Like popping candy into her mouth.
Clouds gathered up above, to be wrung out by an invisible hand. Each drop slid down her spine while her lips embraced his cock. She drew him deeper into her tide. Each rip tossed him this way and that, and her tongue danced. Kundalini overdrive. Roy gripped her hair, pulled her away.
"You're making me burn."
He cupped her backside, and squeezed tight. She thought of the imprints he would leave, and smiled.
It hurt a little on the upstroke -- the all Seeing Eye peered into her, before his shaft followed. Up, down. He held her there, dangled her over the hot precipice. Jackie labored for Roy's hips to eventually temper her frantic hips. Her head rested over his left shoulder.
"Stay with me," he whispered. He felt it, he said. Knew it to be her first. "It feels so…sweet." Rain showered them from above, blanketing their pores until their joints loosened.
His voice crackled against her ear. Each initial fiery stroke settled. A second wind howled somewhere between her lumbar and pussy. Her fingers, previously digging into his flesh like a frazzled feline, relaxed to roam his upper back. Jackie bounced and danced. Her hips rolled and pirouetted; Jackie-Jezebel or Babylonian whore, the sweetest freedom one could ever want. Roy's cock felt sweeter than the breasts Solomon raved about. She embraced him tightly, bearing down until she ran out of air on the downward stroke, to be filled to her utmost limit while her tender clit parlayed with his groin, aflame, and far from any shame, she lovingly stroked Roy's face as she raced ahead and imploded on his cock. The rain sluiced away the past, presenting a new vista, a rainbow took shape. Roy cried out, like a Shaman blending with nature, vocal chords reverberating against every blade of grass. She rose, to impale herself repeatedly until she squeezed her eyelids shut, and saw a mosaic of shifting shapes and hues unfold within her flesh. They kissed, rolled onto the grass and gazed at the raindrops.
Jackie's thoughts returned to the Hill to honor the fallen soldier of her dreams. Her heart fluttered along its grassy slope like a vivacious butterfly, flying toward a new beginning.
Originally published April, 2008