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On the riverbank

"A tale of two strangers who meet upon a riverbank."

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The man shades his eyes and squints ahead, trying to see through the glinting sunlight reflected off the rivers eddies and currents. His raft moves lazily through the brown slow waters, guided by his sure hands and arms that are pushing and pulling the pole in and out of the muddy river floor. A soft summertime symphony of insect and bird noises fills the air, while a thousand shades of green provide a visual backdrop. There seems to be an endless succession of bushes, trees, brambles and shrubs lining the river bank. Beyond the banks lies miles of hills and forests, without any sign of civilization’s lines and angles.

The warm afternoon seems eternal, and he wishes the sun would slip down further, bringing the welcome cool of evening, and a time to rest his aching muscles.

She is there suddenly, crouching beside a bush on the bank, with dark eyes locked onto his, and in that moment his world stops. Before he can process the meaning of this strange event, she turns and is gone, as quickly as she had appeared.

He is not the sort to imagine strange things, nor is he the sort to waste time on analysis of that which can not be understood.

He continues on his way, navigating the slow waters which take him downstream.

It is not till another bend is rounded that he sees her again, this time crouching on a large grey rock protruding into the river, underneath the cool shade of a large tree. He is actually a bit miffed this time, because he had been considering tying his raft to this very rock, but her presence disturbs his perception of the situation. When he turns his head to give the raft a shove with his pole, she slips away again.

He shakes his head slowly and allows the river to take him further downstream.

At the next bend he brings the raft to the bank, ties it to a large oak, and sets up his meager camp. After setting a pair of cane poles into the muddy bank to bring forth his evening meal, he retreats carefully up the side of the bank and into a cleft in the hillside, being careful to leave no tracks of his passage. He does not do this out of fear, nor is this part of a plan of violence or retribution; he simply feels that something might be seen.

Others would have grown impatient or restless waiting for something that might never appear, but it is well within his nature to simply wait.

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He sits and feels the presence of the forest, the slowly moving river and the softly shifting patterns of life and light all around him.

As he waits, a fish begins to work at the bait on one of his lines, but even then he does not move. Suddenly she is there. His heart thumps once in his chest and then is quiet as he wills himself to absolute motionlessness while she moves silently among the bushes just above his camp, but just below his vantage point. She is looking over his camp intently, looking for him, with a look of interest and eyes that pick up every detail. He begins to move silently, coming up behind her, till he is very close. She becomes very still before him, looking out over the river and to the hills beyond.

He is now very aware of her dark hair; he is close enough to taste her scent in the air and even feel the warmth of her skin. He knows she must feel his presence, and yet she does not run. He leans even closer and whispers. “What do you see?” She turns rather suddenly, and again their eyes lock, and again his world stops, this time accompanied by a pounding in his heart. The long moment ends and again she turns and vanishes, as quietly as she had appeared. He stays for a few moments considering these events and going over the so recent memory of her presence, and then he returns to the bank and retrieves his dinner.

At last the hot sun slips beneath the horizon and he gratefully sits back against his bedroll to enjoy the cool of evening, while watching his cooking fire dance its endless dances. He watches some of the glowing embers as they follow the fires heat into the sky, gyrating like crazy fireflies as they ascend up, past the trees, past the hills, and nearly to heaven it seems….

He becomes aware of her presence again, very close behind him, and he smiles but does not move.

Very slowly she leans towards him, while he holds himself in motionless anticipation. She whispers into his ear, repeating his own unanswered question. “What do you see?”

He turns ever so slightly, just enough for their eyes to meet once more, and he answers, “Heaven”.

Published 
Written by Michael_m57
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