"Strong ran the winds on the vasty peak of Tunnel Mount, when we last tried to scale it. I thought that day that all the gods were agin' us and that we could go no further, and neither could we go downnnnnn. "
"Aye, a strong day it was, and us with only our umbrellas, and a six pack between us."
"But never shall such external things faze two such as us, and we plodded on! Through the maelstrom! The devil winds picked at our anoraks and tousled our hair. Still we climbed, oblivious to peril."
"Indeed, all of the guide signs were missing - torn down or possibly hidden by malevolence. Midway through our hike we had lost our way and wandered into a forest!"
"Well, there were a few trees about, here and there to block our way, and an occasional stray root to trip an unwary foot. . . ."
"It was dangerous, dangerous. Remember, you, I and Edna, on that trek, and over an hour away from hot tea at the Julie Phipps lounge!"
"Ahh, Edna. That was when we lost her, wasn't it?"
"A calamity for poetry! The sweet songstress of Salmon Arm, swallowed!"
"Rather hung up in a bush, you mean. Elk are not carnivorous. "
"I was getting to that! Please let me tell the story in my own fashion!"
"You mentioned elk. . . ?" asked Deborah, curious as to where this was leading.
"I'm not going to tell you," said Twitchell with a smirk.
"I will! I will!" said Story with an enthusiasm which almost made him fall off his log.
"The mists swirled over the craggy peak as I and my follower (here a significant look over at Twitchell who returned it with a glare of hate) made careful way over the rocky cline, barely touching the railing at our side. I was groaning under the weight of six entire bottles of beer (my companion not having the foresight to buy cans), and both of us were chastened by the early departure of the female third of our party, chased back down to the lounge by a rutting herbivore. We had forgotten that this was the season for love among the native ruminants, and she had the misfortune to wear a perfume especially tempting to these creatures. The fact that she was also wearing a tall headdress given to her as a gift by the native population of the area (which ran a small Japanese restaurant and souvenir shop on Bnaff Avenue) also increased her attractiveness to a four-legged species, and unfortunately hindered her escape. We were forced to leave her hanging Haman-like (here I have the wrong biblical figure. Who was that whose hair caught in a tree? Absalom, I suppose. ) from a knotty pine, since the male elk was too excited to let us come near. "
Gretchen and Deborah both rolled their eyes at this description. Strangely, most of the male listeners somehow did not find it too far-fetched.
Twitchell rolled his eyes also, hoping that his description was not getting so fantastical that it would be ceased to be believed. So much eye-rolling around the group was getting disturbing, and Jeff and Mick made careful pains to stop their own orbs from straying too far from their natural orbits. The rest of the circle were paying attention to their peepers when a brake of branches gave way, and out of the forest darkness stepped a bacchic figure, seemingly covered in leaves, with a huge crown of horns from which depended moss and forest vines. (pine vines, in case you were wondering what kind of creepers could be found in the mountains).
The strange form stopped, feet wide apart, and with a tilt of head gave vent to ululation like a flute gone wild. In her mouth (for it was a she, shaggy with greenery though she was), her tongue waggled from side to side much in the same way the women waggled theirs in the Middle East when mourning or giving celebration. Seeing her, Twitchell decamped with hurried stamping of pine needles to the opposite edge of the circle. Story Callaghan kept his place (for he was still at the circle's head, and nothing could force him give up his eminence), but stiffened and pulled himself in, as if expecting a rain of blows.
The shape stopped her wailing, and pointed at Twitchell. "YOU!" said Edna, for it was obvious it was she, returned from her run-in with the elk, what vengeance to wreak would soon be seen. Twitchell cowered, edging behind Gretchen, who unobligingly moved out of line. "You!" (Edna continued) "It was you and your partner (here she levelled a withering stare at Story, who was trying to look the other way) who left me to the mercies of that horny member of your sex. Alone in the forest, exposed to its mercies!"
Twitchell at this moment nearly broke down, beginning to try and speak. But he could form no words, only managing a stream of gasps and sobs which had to them a pleading quality. Edna cut him short.
"Stop blubbering! I have not come to punish you, though you have stolen my story and are using it for your own ends. Despite these and your other crimes, and the various outrages of your sex, I am nearly grateful to you. For in leaving me, you exposed me to the power of the forest, changing me into what you see at this moment." She shook a pine staff, which was in fact a living tree, to emphasise her transformation.
"I am now a sorceress, filled with the forest's living might! See how I am part of it." And she threw her head back, and gave another kind of sound, this time a throaty roar made slightly absurd by the high-pitched feminine tone with which she voiced it. However, the forest rustled for a second time, and out came one of the forest's most feared denizens, a female grizzly bear. The grey hump-backed animal stopped in front of Edna, sitting down. That leaf-lined shape raised her hands in triumph and exhortation, and began to make a speech:
"My forest sister, daughter of leaf and log and running water, I feel you, and sense your power. . . "
On she went for many minutes, leaving the morley circle, who at first were suitably impressed and filled with awe, restless in their seats. Edna had started chanting the names of animals and plants, and enumerating their powers, from the salmon, who had knowledge, to the Jack Pine, with its tremendous sexual potency. "I conjure you," she said after each naming. When she had gotten around to Magellan the black forest cat, Story at last spoke.
"Come on, what is this all about?"
The peevish tone in which this comment was delivered immediately gave Edna's face the dark colours of rage. "How dare you interrupt my peroration to the powers of the forest?" she said.
Story said nothing further, but it was plain that he had regained some of his position in the circle clearing. Even the grizzly bear had seemed bored by Edna's speech, and had sat lower on its haunches, as if ready to fall asleep.
"I'll show you," said Edna, and she wheeled to face the bear. "Forest sister, attack!"
There were shouts of dismay from the circle, especially from Gretchen and Deborah, who were on the verge of getting up. Seeing no one else had actively begun to jump up and run, they steeled themselves and resumed places. Closer in fact at that moment to fleeing was Stephen, who had what he thought was a place of pride, directly next to Story. Though he did not move, how much the expression on his face showed he wished he was elsewhere!
But the grizzly did not move, either to attack Story or do anything else. Rather it sat there, and scratched what was most likely an insect bite. Edna was impatient with the lack of reaction from her 'forest sister,' and her hands, which once again had been raised to call forth the power, lowered, and her whole body wilted a bit. She tried again.
"Now! Attack the enemy!"
The bear burped, ignoring the sorceress, who was gesturing dramatically in the circle's direction. The members of that assembly, however much for whom success on Edna's part would have meant at least a degree of discomfort, looked bored as well.
Edna, rustling as she walked, approached the mother bear. "You stupid thing. What happened to gender solidarity?"
With a sudden sound like that of a yawn, the grizzly rose up on her hind legs. Edna, now too close to make flight a possibility, stopped and grew silent. The bear gave a tremendous roar like the monarch of the forest she was, raised a flurry of paws, and Edna at last found the strength to run in the opposite direction with the high, undignified steps made necessary by her costume. The bear snorted, fell back to all fours, and in an unconcerned way entered the masking thickness of the forest.
Laughter sounded from the male contingent of the morley circle, while the female half remained silent. Looks of consternation were passed between the women, who, it must be said, had chosen to sit amongst members of their own sex, letting the morley circle resemble in some ways the ancient yang/yin symbol. Not everyone obeyed the rule of segregation. Deborah, for example, had men on either side of her, and some male circle members (a handy avoidance of having to write "male members" again) were sprinkled amongst the women. There were, however clumps of each sex, which hung together more out of ideological solidarity than anything to do with gender. The radical feminists faced the neo-conservatives like boxers in a ring. Nothing would make them associate with each other, or give the slightest amount of ground. Yet, in the final reckoning, these opposing groups were minorities in the larger circle, which was a coming together, a telling of tales, which was finally, sharing.
(c) Jack Ruttan, 1998