Lunatic Fringe (13 page)

“
Oh really?” he said,
drawing out the syllables of the word in playful mockery. “Then
let’s get you started on learning a little about our own culture
here.” Otter opened his hand, presenting a small pile of shriveled,
brown . . . somethings. Archer raised an eyebrow. Otter grinned.
“Once in a blue moon, then?” he asked with a wink.

Lexie took a guess at what was going
on. “I’ve never . . .”

“
It’s only Mother Nature,”
Otter said as he held his open palm in front of her. “Dionysus
wasn’t only the god of wine but the god of mushrooms, you know.
Festivals like this one are all about celebrating the mind and the
body together. The rhythms of nature are the rhythms of the self.
To feel it all happen, you have to . . .” he made whoosh sound with
his breath while using his hands to imitate a door opening from the
center of his belly, “open up, you know?”

Lexie wasn’t quite sure opening up was
what she wanted; it carried with it a near certainty that all that
had been shaken up inside her over that past few days would spill
out.

“
It’s completely up to you.
I’ll be right here, no matter what,” Archer said. The squeeze she
gave Lexie’s hand bolstered her ego, inspired her curiosity, and
offered a risk to be taken. The warmth of Archer’s body and the
ebullience of Otter’s smile, Lexie couldn’t help but grin with a
small wisdom. It was as though she were looking back upon her young
self from a distance of a lifetime. This was a moment of choice
that would inform all those that followed it in small yet
cumulative ways. She considered her promise to herself, and with
the furrowed brow of a concentrating toddler, Lexie grasped two of
the fungi and tossed them into her mouth. As she chewed the meat of
the mushrooms, she tasted earth, cool and moist. The taste was deep
green, healthy and fecund, like river mud.

“
What will this do?” Lexie
asked.

Archer stroked the loose auburn spirals
that curled behind Lexie’s ear. “It will change the way your senses
talk to you, that’s all. Just be open-minded and let them play.
Don’t worry. Mama Moon is in control now, and I’ve got your back.”
Her fingernail scratched along Lexie’s scalp, sending bright
tingles skittering up her spine. Archer reached forward and snapped
two caps off the mushrooms and tossed them in her mouth, closing
her eyes as if saying a silent prayer as she chewed.

“
Blessed be, you beautiful
critters,” Otter said with a wide, kind smile before he skipped
away to the drum circle.

“
Lexie,” Archer said,
pulling Lexie to her feet, “I think I’d like to dance.” Before
Lexie could protest or agree, Archer led her to the dance
floor.

The girl with the flaming poi had taken
off her shirt, and the luminous balls gilded her bare breasts in
bright bursts of orange light. The dancer bent backwards, chasing
the flames across her chest. A lithe young man joined her, spinning
a staff lit on both ends. He moved with the precision of a martial
artist, wielding the staff like both a weapon and a dance partner.
The two fire dancers were rapt with their own energy, yet somehow
moved in synchronicity.

On the muddy dance floor, some of the
dancers were spastic, flailing like they were trying to dislodge
their limbs from their torsos. Others indulged in sensuality,
running their hands over their bodies as they swayed. Lexie thought
she recognized the song playing, but in a few beats it shifted to
something new and her disorientation grew. The moment Archer found
them a spot on the dance floor, the beat dropped to a slower groove
that Lexie wasn’t sure how to dance to. She wiggled her hips and
shuffled from foot to foot, glancing around at the others, hoping
to take a cue. To her right, a pair of hairy, beefy men kissed
fervently, their beards rubbing together like Velcro repeatedly
affixed and dislodged. The hula-hoop girl gave herself over to the
music, tracing slow undulating circles with her hips such that the
act of hooping became more a dance of seduction than a playground
game.

Archer pulled Lexie close, pressing
their hips together and guiding Lexie’s hands around her shoulders.
They rocked back and forth. Lexie gave control over to Archer. She
closed her eyes, and lightning bolts of purple traced across the
blackness behind her eyelids.

She opened her eyes to see the same
purple trace against the black sky. The stars glowed like Christmas
lights in fog. As she blinked they reached out to one another,
resembling nerve cells, drawing a glowing, intricate network across
the sky.

Archer pressed her hand against Lexie’s
back, pulling their bodies so close that they had no choice but to
move to the music as one. Archer’s hot breath caressed against
Lexie’s neck. Jagged bolts of longing ran up and down her center,
and every point at which her body met Archer’s burned like hot
coals. She pulled away, too warm, and desperate to catch her breath
and calm her mind. Archer’s amber and blue eyes bored into Lexie’s
mind. Lexie swallowed, wanting to stagger back to where she had
been sitting, where she had last felt safe and certain about so
many things. The distance they covered, while only a few yards, now
felt like a universe of experience, and Lexie no longer knew what
she wanted or expected. Archer licked her lips and Lexie knew. She
knew what she wanted, she just didn’t have the language for it yet.
She yanked her outer shirt above her head. Beneath she wore only a
white tank-top.

Archer tracked her movements and pulled
her close again, pressing her nose into the crook of Lexie’s neck.
Archer inhaled, pulling the cool air in rivulets across Lexie’s
skin. The foggy damp of the night wrapped itself around them like a
third dance partner. Lexie’s skin dewed with sweat.

Archer whispered into her ear, her
breath puffing against the tiny hairs at her temple. “You look
delicious.” She traced Lexie’s jaw with her fingertips and pulled
her into a kiss. Lexie moaned as anticipation dashed into
satisfaction. Her body grew hot, and her skin tingled with the
promise of touch. Joy rippled up Lexie’s spine, bursting into
colors in front of her closed eyes. Archer’s breath tasted like
lilacs. Yellow and lavender circled their heads. A cocoon of
electric warmth enveloped them, and lust sizzled from Lexie’s
fingertips as they dug into Archer’s powerful shoulders. Lexie
relaxed, lips parted, desperate for Archer’s lips.

It was then that Lexie’s stomach
recoiled. She fell back, catching her weight on her ankle. She
slammed her hand over her mouth to prevent losing the contents of
her stomach, looking up to see Archer peering down at her. In place
of the striking, golden face Lexie was just beginning to memorize,
thick shadows of grey slid down the long contours of Archer’s skin.
Panicked, Lexie’s gaze swung out to the crowd. It didn’t help. The
dancers faces and bodies twisted through forms of bestial
transition. Like a living nightmare, Lexie couldn’t recognize a
single face nor suss out the layers of reality from her
hallucination. Creatures stood in place of people, faces of fur not
flesh.

Archer’s muzzle moved out of sync with
the words she spoke, “Lexie? Are you okay?”

Her fangs glinted in the bright blue
moonlight. Lexie staggered back another step, her heart pounding
and her balance off. As she fell back in slow motion, Archer’s hand
caught her wrist and pulled her upright. Lexie looked to her arm
and saw a furry paw wrapped around it. Another jolt of pain rocked
through her body. Lexie jerked her arm free, turned on her heels,
and ran. Her balance remained true, but the horizon lied. The trees
were closer than the people, the music’s beat was her heartbeat, or
maybe the other way around. The lights molded the air, directing
the breeze like heavy traffic. She needed distance and solitude.
Her feet traced arcs in her peripheral vision. The damp ground gave
beneath each footfall. Her breath thrummed in her ears,
overpowering the still, steady beat of the music. The tree line was
near; the forest would hide her until her wits returned.

Her throat seized the cold air and
struggled to warm it. She coughed, harshness clawing up her
throat.

The trees. The trees would care for
her. She ran. Behind the first trunk, the earth softened. Muddy
grass gave way to a plush carpet of pine needles. She staggered to
a stop and fell to her hands and knees. A thorn lodged itself into
her palm. She yanking it out, a tiny ruby of blood welled up to
fill the void. The bass no longer overwhelmed, rather it was the
subtle heartbeat of the forest, a strong steady rhythm that
overpowered the speakers with its stoicism.

Lexie breathed deeply for
what seemed like the first time since Archer’s lips pressed against
hers. She coughed again. Her throat burned, desperate for salve.
She clutched her abdomen as the coughing worsened, each resonating
on the former, exacerbating the pain in her throat. Her stomach
threatened to expunge its contents.
Water
. Her brain screamed and her
throat burned.
Water
. Like struggling to the surface while drowning, she begged
for breath with all of her life. She would find breath if she found
water. Lexie lifted her head and saw moonlight reflecting off a
puddle a few inches from her head. The reflection of the full moon
shot bolts of blue splendor into Lexie’s heart. She loved this
water, the soil it fed from, the pine needles cushioning her
palms.

She crawled to the puddle and put her
mouth to the surface. Water caressed her lips, clean and cool. She
drank. Streams of silver danced into the air around her forehead,
feeding her soul. The water tasted like pine and sage, autumnal and
fresh. Her throat calmed, and her cough subsided. She felt
nourished and at peace. The overbright colors ebbed to muted
beauty, and Lexie’s senses regained equilibrium. She rolled onto
her back and greeted the stars peeking at her through the tall
pines. Thin lengths of shiny spider silk spanned between them,
brightening and dimming, mirroring her own neurons. She puffed a
breath into the night and marveled at the swirl of colors as she
exhaled: pink and blue smoke drifting into the night
sky.

The river rumbled. Here, at the
southern end of town, it was strong. Her mind wandered, tracing the
lineage of this forest. She considered the Yacquina tribespeople,
about whom her mother had once told her, settling near this spot on
the shores of the river connecting Lexie’s new home to her old one.
Their language and lineage now extinct, her own people would
someday join them. Lexie pushed her fingers into the soil, feeling
the earthworms in their blind passages sending tiny vibrations of
greeting to her fingertips. The full, fecund moon peered through
the branches, casting aubergine patterns of leaves on the pine
needle carpet and shining a bold, silver light on her face. A sense
of profound gratitude swelled tears in her eyes. She thanked the
moon for allowing her to look directly at it and soak in its
luminescence, safe from the callous brightness of the sun. She
thanked it for draping the ominous forest with sterling richness
and shedding light in unfamiliar places. She thanked it for
connecting her body to it in the passage of time, for the tides
that brought the mussels she harvested with her father as a child
on the shores nearby. Her heart poured forth like the river rushing
by her, sending thanks to the moon for her very existence. She
wanted to give it her self, her voice, her breath. She wanted to
warm it in her arms and tell it how beautiful it was in every
language on Earth. She wanted to orbit it herself, to prove her
devotion. The moon rays penetrated her skin, trickling over her
like balm, finding tiny recesses of pain she had long forgotten
about. She felt renewed. Reborn, even.

Lexie opened her arms and her heart as
far as they could go. The center of her forehead throbbed with warm
intensity. She inhaled deeply, taking the moonbeams deep into her
lungs, her diaphragm, her abdomen, her uterus, her root. Their
glimmer stayed inside as she exhaled, all the trauma, the pain, the
rage of her life until this moment. She scanned her body with her
mind’s eye, filling the nooks with rivulets of silver magic where
there once had been was rough, hidden harshness. She’d been remade,
new and bright. Embedded in her body was the moon.

“
Lexie!” A shout from the
edge of the trees. It was Archer. She dropped to her knees and
cradled Lexie’s head in her lap. “Are you okay?”

Lexie couldn’t speak. She had been
speaking to the moon without words for what seemed like hours, now
words seemed too far from reality to utter. Archer’s knee sank into
the puddle next to Lexie’s head, and she stilled. She sniffed
twice. She shook her hair back, as if she was listening to the
breeze. Her chin rose, tracking something beyond Lexie’s body. Her
fingers skimmed the puddle, discerning its shape. Large and heavy,
the imprint of toes and claws. A wolf.

Lexie reached up with the gratitude she
had been giving to the moon. She gave it now to Archer, stroking
the woman’s cheek, peering into her heart. Archer let Lexie’s
adoration wrap itself around her like fleece. She slid her strong
arms between Lexie’s back and the earth, and lifted her as gently
as one might a child.

“
Let me take you home,”
Archer whispered. Lexie felt weightless as she was raised so easily
into Archer’s chest. Lexie smiled, feeling like a rescued fairytale
heroine. She looked at Archer, her head obscuring the moon. It
haloed her chestnut hair with its light.