Sara, Book 1 (15 page)
Sara smiled as she walked up her driveway and into her yard. She felt triumphant and strong. It felt good to leave fears behind. It felt really, really good.
“S
ara! Sara! Wow, Sara! Guess what? We found Solomon!”
“
Oh, no, that can’t be!
Sara thought, as she stood, frozen, on the street as Jason and Billy came speeding toward her on their bicycles.
“What do you mean, you found Solomon? Found him, where?”
“We found him over on Thacker’s Trail, Sara. And guess what else?” Jason announced proudly. “We shot him!”
Sara felt so weak that she thought she would fall down. Her knees nearly buckled right out from under her.
“He was just sitting there on this post, Sara. So we flushed him up into the sky, and then Billy shot him with his BB gun. It was awesome, Sara! But he’s not nearly as big as we thought he would be. He’s mostly feathers.”
Sara could not believe her ears. The impact of what she was hearing was so intense, so very important, and Jason was driveling on about Solomon not being as big as he thought he would be? Sara felt as if her head would explode. Her book bag dropped to the ground, and Sara began to run as fast as she had ever run in her life, to Solomon’s thicket.
“Solomon! Solomon! Where are you, Solomon?!” Sara cried out, frantically.
Here, Sara, I’m here. Don’t be alarmed.
And there, lying in a rumpled clump, was Solomon.
“Oh, Solomon!” Sara cried, as she fell down on her knees in the snow. “Look at you! Look what they’ve done to you!”
Solomon was truly a mess. His always neat feathers were rumpled and seemed to be going in every direction, and the pure white snow all around Solomon was red with blood.
“Solomon, Solomon, what should I do?”
Sara, this is no big thing, really.
“But Solomon, you’re bleeding. Look at all of this blood. Are you going to be all right?”
Of course, Sara. Everything is always all right.
“Oh, Solomon, please don’t give me more of that ‘all-is-well’ junk. I can see, very well, with my own eyes, that all is not well!”
Sara, come here to me,
Solomon said.
Sara crawled right down next to Solomon and put her hand on his back and stroked the feathers under his chin.
This was the first time that Sara had actually touched Solomon, and he felt so soft and so vulnerable. Tears rolled down Sara’s cheeks.
Sara, don’t get this rumpled pile of bones and feathers mixed up with who Solomon really is. This body is only a focal point
—
or a point of perspective
—
for something much more to see through.
Your body is the same, Sara. It isn’t really who you are. It’s just the perspective that you use, for now, to allow who you really are to play and grow and rejoice.
“But, Solomon, I love you. Whatever will I do without you?”
Sara, wherever do you get this stuff? Solomon isn’t going anywhere. Solomon is forever!
“But, Solomon, you’re dying!” Sara blurted, hurting more than she could ever remember hurting.
Sara, listen to me. I am not dying, because there is no such thing as death. True, I won’t be using this body for now, but it was getting old and a bit stiff anyway. I’ve had a real crick in my neck ever since the day I tried to turn my head all the way around to please the Thackers’ grandchildren.
Sara laughed through her tears. Solomon could nearly always make her laugh, even in the worst of times.
Sara, our friendship is forever. And that means that anytime you would like a chat with Solomon, all you have to do is identify what you want to talk about, focus upon it, bring yourself to a place of feeling very good—and I’ll be right here with you.
“But will I see you, Solomon? Will I be able to see you and touch you?”
Well, probably not, Sara. Not for a while, anyway, but Sara, that’s not what our relationship is about, anyway.
We are mental friends, you and I.
And with those last words, Solomon’s crumpled body relaxed into the snow, and his big eyes fluttered shut.
“No!!!!!” Sara’s voice echoed across the pasture. “Solomon, don’t leave me!”
But Solomon was quiet.
Sara stood up, looking down at Solomon’s body. He looked so small, lying there in the snow, his feathers moving softly in the wind. Sara took off her coat and laid it on the snow next to Solomon. She lifted him gently onto her coat and wrapped it around him. And then, not noticing that it was really quite cold, Sara carried Solomon down Thacker’s trail.
Sara, our friendship is forever. And that means that anytime you would like a chat with Solomon, all you have to do is identify what you want to talk about and focus upon it, bring yourself to a place of feeling very good, and I’ll be right here with you,
Solomon said again—but Sara couldn’t hear.
S
ara didn’t know what to do or where to begin to explain to her parents who Solomon was, or the important friend he had come to be to her. Her mind was spinning, and she was filled with regret that she hadn’t told her family more about her owl friend, because now she had no way to explain the tragedy that had befallen her. She had turned entirely to Solomon for guidance and comfort, and had all but severed those kinds of ties with her own family, and now she found herself faced with the loss of Solomon. She felt truly alone, with no place to turn.
She didn’t know what to do with Solomon. The ground was still so frozen and hard that she knew she couldn’t manage to dig a grave for him. The thought of tossing him into the coal furnace, in the furnace room, as she had seen her father do with dead birds or mice, was just too awful to even think about.
Sara was still sitting on the front steps of her house, holding Solomon in her arms, with tears flooding down her face, when her father’s car skidded to a quick stop on the graveled driveway. He came rushing out of the car carrying Sara’s wet book bag and crumpled pile of books. Sara had forgotten all about her things, left on the side of the road.
“Sara, Mr. Matson called me at work. He found your bag and books on the side of the road. We thought something had happened to you! Are you all right?”
Sara wiped at her wet face, embarrassed to have her father see her like this. She wanted to somehow hide Solomon, to continue to keep him a secret, and at the same time, she wanted, so much, to somehow find some comfort in telling her father everything.
“Sara, what has happened? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Oh, Daddy,” Sara blurted. “Jason and Billy have killed Solomon.”
“Solomon?” her father questioned, as Sara opened her coat to let him see her dead friend.
“Oh, Sara, I’m so sorry.” He had no idea why this dead owl was so significant to her, but it was clear that Sara was experiencing real trauma. He had never seen his daughter like this before. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her hurt away, but he knew that whatever had happened here was much too big for that. “Sara, give Solomon to me. I’ll dig a grave for him behind the chicken coop. Go inside and get warm.”
Only then did Sara realize how very cold she was. She reluctantly released her precious bundle and put Solomon in her father’s arms. Sara felt weak, so sad, and so very tired. She stayed seated on the steps as she watched her father gingerly carry her beautiful Solomon out of view. She smiled limply through her tears as she noticed how seriously and delicately her father was carrying this feathered bundle, somehow seeming to understand how valuable it was.
Sara flopped onto her bed, still fully clothed. She kicked her shoes off onto the floor and sobbed into her pillow and then fell asleep.
