Lenora

Written by Kai Toh

To Kyle ... Always to Kyle ...

Please note: Lenora is a sequel to Quoth. It is recommended that you read Quoth first in order to fully grasp and appreciate Lenora.

Spring, 1976.

Raith was his name. People remembered him when they met him which is exactly what he did not want. However, it could not be helped. One distinguishing feature was that he was short for a man, being less than five and a half feet. Having one blue and one brown eye did not help him blend in with others which is why he often wore dark sunglasses. He also had long, dark flowing hair that, even though he wanted anonymity, he rarely cut — this led to him hiding his locks behind some sort of hood. Strangers sometimes wished to pick on the smaller man out of their own inadequacies which was a serious error of judgement for Raith feared no man. Woman? That’s another story.

Those who saw him or talked to him — for no one really knew him — thought of him as a quiet hermit, a self-sufficient outdoorsman that needed very little. Some loners in the woods might have psychological or mental difficulties, but that was not the case with Raith. Though he could converse articulately if needed and interact in a friendly manner if he wished to do so, people still saw him as alien and eccentric, which is exactly how he saw others. The world outside his own did not offer him anything he wanted. Born in a hospital, daycare, junior then senior kindergarten, primary school, middle school, secondary school, teenage angst, university, job, house, marriage, friends, what passes for amusement and entertainment, endless useless materialism, having kids, becoming a grandparent, retirement, old age home, mental and physical decline, death … such a life, he was absolutely apathetic too. He knew billions lived that way but that was not his way.

* * * * *

One late spring day as Raith was hiking along the river, he came upon some rustling and after further investigating found a dark-haired, young woman cooking fish over a fire.

“Hello,” Raith greeted.

She was startled and turned around quickly, looking for her rifle that was too far away.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Not many people are out in these parts. Those that are, are often lost and need help, but you seem to know what you are doing.”

The woman relaxed a little, but her guard was still up. “Not as much as I wish. What are you doing out here?”

He gave a little laugh. “I was going to ask you the same thing. I live out here — probably seven kilometers away — this forest is my home.”

“It’s crown land, so …” she started.

“Yes, I do not have a legal right to live here, but I do, and I have been here a long time and, as you might have noticed, no one is going to bother you here. There are park wardens near the edge of the forest, but they never come this far in. What about you?”

“My forefathers talked about this forest and how beautiful and historic it was, and I wanted to find out for myself. I guess I wanted to know, can I be like you, live off the land? And do I even want that type of life?” she explained. “Even the Indigenous do not live that way anymore.”

“Interesting. I haven’t met many who wish to live like that,” he said. “Well, perhaps other hermits. Others wish to live off the lands, but they have all this modern gear. To me, that goes against the spirit of the relationship of man — and woman — to the natural world. To be fair, I can’t blame them. This environment can be very harsh. If you do not know what you are doing, you will die, so you need all the help you can find.”

“But you don’t?” she asked impressed.

“No, I am very comfortable outside. I am very uncomfortable inside, especially self-indulgent homes.”

“How’d you learn to survive out here?” she asked intrigued.

“I lived here all my life. I was born here, raised here. I’m sure I will die here. Like stories of a child being raised by wolves, I was raised basically outside with little modern comforts.”

“But a boy raised by wolves would have a lot of problems. You seem very well adjusted for being outside as much as you say and not in a classroom.”

“My parents are very good teachers, especially my mother, and even if I did not need the townspeople or others, they showed me how to get along with them. I was schooled at home.”

“Do your parents live here as well?”

“No, my father passed away from a bear attack and my mother left to live with family in Quebec a couple of years later.”

“I am so sorry to hear that,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said. “It’s been eight years now. I might visit mother in the spring next year.”

“I’m sure she would like that. I guess I should tell you about me then.”

“Only if you want ... only as much as you want to share.”

“I’m from the K’iRooOs clan,” she said. “Ever heard of them?”

“Yes, the reserve is quite far from here. There is a history of your people in this forest.”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s a cliché but this is sort of a gap year, or actually years, for me. I finished high school a couple of years ago. It is really hard for the indigenous to get into university and afford it as well. I was taking a year off — or three — to save up for it and to find out even if that’s really what I want. It’s the plight of many young adults though their gap is usually after university.”

“Three years?” he asked.

“Yeah, I was supposed to go to university a while ago,” she admitted. “I just let it slide.”

“There are other routes, colleges, trades … living out here and being a hermit.”

“Yes,” she said. “I was looking into jobs outside, among nature. You’d probably make a good warden.”

“That’s a job that concerns nature from a white man’s perspective. I’m sure I could do it, but there is no job available here and it is not the job I want. There would be too much disconnect from what I wish to do and what they want me to do, but it might work out for you. There are many occupations that might suit you.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“What did your parents think of you doing this?”

“They’re patient and supportive. It is hard for aboriginals everywhere that are close to the land to adapt to that modern lifestyle which we are not sure we even want.”

“Yes, though I’m perfectly certain I do not want it,“ Raith said.

“I guess that’s it. That’s what I’m looking for: certainty.”

“Aren’t we all? Good luck with that.”

“You seem to have it.”

“I do know who I am and what I need, not to make me happy, which is a flawed idea, but rather what I need to function well, what suits me and what does not,” he explained.

“What do you mean it is a flawed idea?”

“I am wired differently. I am the caretaker of the forest here. If anyone wants to log here, there will be conflict. If you want to hunt or trap here, that is not going to happen. That’s my role in this existence: watch the forest and keep an ideal I have in my head of some balance of nature. I am not here to be happy as an individual. That is a human aspiration that is very foreign to me.”

“That’s certainly a different viewpoint. You seem to have it all together. I like that. You’re not screwed up or neurotic.”

“Perhaps,” he said humbly. “I know and like who I am.”

“There looks like there is a lot to like,” she complimented. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Raith.”

She played with that name a little in her head. “Hmm, I never heard any stories of you in this forest. I thought I might have.”

“That’s good,” he remarked. “My goal of keeping anonymous seems to be working.”

“I’m Lenora,” she said.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.”

* * * * *

Lenora mentioned that she was struggling a little living out here: the loneliness and the great effort it took to find food and build shelter took a toll on her. Raith offered to help even though he thought she might not succeed in her journey of self-discovery and self-sufficiency. He invited her to his home. It was not much, but it might be a welcome change from how she was currently living. She eagerly accepted and packed her things.

“There is not even a trail,” she commented when they were on their way. “How do you know where you are going?

“I’ve lived here forever, and I’ve been doing this all my life. Also, I’m not following a perfect path, but I know the river is to our right,” he explained. “Eventually, we will reach a path I recognize.”

She accepted that.

“This will sound strange, but I live in a home beside a gigantic tree, but my actual sleeping quarters are quite high and within a building hidden amongst that tree.”

“Really?” she said astonished. “Like a tree house?”

“Yes, except this tree house is quite inaccessible. However, we are not going to stay there. It is hard for anyone besides our family to get up and down from there. The house, more of a single room cabin, in the trees is where we grew up. However, now it is only used to sleep. We made a dwelling house on the ground where people could visit; we are going there instead. The ‘receiving house,’ as we call it, is a lot nicer than the one in the trees, which is quite primitive. It looks pretty much the same as it did a hundred years ago but it has everything you would need to entertain people — if you did not have electricity or running water.”

She was trying to imagine that. “That was a lot to take in. Why do you live in a tree? Some people might do it because it is fun or cool but that’s not why you and your family do it.”

“Because we grew up in a tree, that is all we know. I guess the family wanted seclusion and a house in a tree, over a hundred foot up, gives us that. There is something in our genes that make us have no fear of heights and also gives us excellent balance. Throughout our history, none of us has ever fallen from the tree house. Before I was born, I heard that guests had fallen but not fatally. There was a time we had a giant net but that did not coexist with our desire for seclusion. I guess that is really a long-winded answer for ‘I really don’t know why.’ I heard of people who lived in boats and on the water for almost all their lives, their feet rarely touching land. Why do they do it? Probably, because they are good at it; they were raised that way; it fills a value or need that they have; and it is all they know. Those are our reasons too.”

“This is very unique. I’m looking forward to this,” Lenora admitted. “Your family is so connected with nature. What is its history? Are you Indigenous?”

“I think we saw ourselves as a sub-culture. We never really thought of ourselves in that exact term. We, of course, related best to Indigenous people versus the white man. There must be some really small aboriginal communities and ours was probably one of the smallest and the rarest. Honestly, I do not think of myself as aboriginal or white or black or brown but rather an extreme example of how one lives with nature. A person in a downtown condo in Toronto is at one end of the spectrum and me and my ilk are at the other end. Maybe, it was so obvious, we never thought about it that way. Now that I think about it, of course, we are Indigenous. However, most of the time, my thinking was we are so different, we do not really belong in this world of man.”

* * * * *

The receiving house was hidden well. It could not be seen from anywhere that would be considered a path. One would have to fight through 10 feet of deep brush to get to it, but Raith knew the exact spot the foliage would give and offer little resistance. Even after traversing this wide natural cover, the house was still well camouflaged into its surroundings, though a rounded double door and windows gave it away.

“Double doors?” she asked, thinking that somewhat extravagant.

“I think great grandpa took the wife out to town and she saw what modern living could offer and that influenced how this was built.”

She laughed at that.

He unlocked the front door, and they went inside. It was quite dark as the sun could barely be seen through the canopy of branches and leaves. “We had help building the place, Indigenous only. If we were to do it ourselves, it would have taken too long,” he explained. Raith turned on some oil lamps which lit the place up quite well. There was a large common area in the center, with two doors to the left, one leading to a bedroom and the other to a small washroom. To the right was the kitchen area, with a fireplace, and shelves of cooking utensils and food items. The whole building was 20 feet x 10 feet with an 8.5-foot ceiling.

“Do you cook?” she asked.

“My diet is quite bland and repetitive. I do know enough to cook and prepare some dishes for special occasions and guests,” Raith said. “Mother made me learn. I think you are in for a treat especially compared to living in the woods for three months. Please make yourself at home.”

“Cozy, I like, I like,” she said playfully as she sat on a comfortable corner chair. “This is handmade.”

“Yes, it is hard to get any large items to here so we did the best we could. We would not want anything from town anyway.”

“Unnh,” she groaned and the chair and she became one. “Sorry, about that. Do you need help?”

“No, no, you just relax.”

“I was hoping you would say that. I can get used to this.”

“Stay as long as you wish. My home is yours,” Raith offered.

When the food was ready, they sat down to a meal with dated dining ware. Their meal was a large portion of smoked fish and some wild rice, seasoned with local ingredients.

He made her some tea. “Why don’t you try this first?”

“Oh my” she moaned most inappropriately, “that is, that is – heavenly – am I even allowed to use that word?”

He smirked at her reaction. “That is gwillberry tea. I collect it and sell it to someone out of town, really expensive stuff. I think $10 in a fancy restaurant.”

“That’s outrageous!”

“I have so much here, so have as much as you wish,” he said. “Try the fish next.”

“Ohh,” she said in a tone not far from the height of pleasure. She blushed, “I’m so sorry, but it is so good.”

“This is not actually our family’s food. It was given to me is from one of the indigenous tribes near here,” he explained. “I’ve had Indigenous smoked salmon and the store-bought kind, but this is much better than both. I forget what type of fish it is, but it is not found around here.”

“At least ten times better,” she said. “This rice is so flavourful.”

“It uses a truffle oil that is common here. I don’t think they sell it in stores anywhere.” He said and asked if she would like some wine.

“This is one they sell in town but is supposedly quite expensive. It was a thank you present from someone who got lost,” said Raith.

He awkwardly used an unfamiliar utensil to pull the cork out. She was about to offer to help but saw he could figure it out.

“I shouldn’t drink too much, or I’ll have trouble making it upstairs,” he said.

“You mean to your tree house?” she asked jokingly.

“Yes, but upstairs seem apt as this is like the living area of where I live and the house in the tree is like a bedroom and I do very little there besides sleep. I don’t think there are actual stairs anywhere.”

“You could sleep here in the dwelling house,” Lenora said.

“Then there would be no use for the home we grew up in that has been in our family for at least a hundred years. I’d never want it to fall into disuse. I do find if I do wish to relax, I end up here.”

“It is very nice, here.”

“Thank you.”

“If you cannot make it up there, you can stay here tonight. You said there were bunk beds.”

He thought about it.

“It would be nice to have some company,” she said.

“Okay sure, I’ll sleep in this living area, give you some privacy. I’ll drink a little more than usual then.”

They talked the night away. It was after 3 a.m. when she fell asleep in her comfortable chair. He effortlessly carried her to the bottom bunk, took out a heavy blanket and tucked her in. “Good night, Lenora.”

* * * * *

Lenora did not know how late it was when she woke up. Looking at her watch, it read 10:30. She never slept in this late. “Raith,” she yelled loudly.

“I’m out here, making some breakfast.”

“Okay, just checking.”

He poked his head into the room. “There is no shower in the house but there is a small room outside beside the large water barrel and you can clean up there if you wish. I know some people like hot showers. There are two buckets, one with hot water, one with cold. You can mix them up to get the proper temperature for yourself. I put some towels next to your bed if you need it.”

“Like a hotel. Thanks,” she said. About an hour later, she came back into the kitchen. “Oh, that was good. I never thought I would have a hot shower out here. I actually thought it was impossible.”

“Glad you like it. Yes, some guests thought it was a nice addition. I guess people take it for granted in the towns and cities.”

“Definitely.”

“I assume you do not have problems with raw fish,” Raith asked as he prepared an early lunch.

“No.”

“Great, try this, please try to minimize the noises,” he commented with a smile.

It took almost all her self-control to do so. “Oh my god, what is that?”

“It’s a specific type of trout. I heard of people eating sushi — or to be accurate sashimi — so I wondered if any of the fish in our area were worth trying to eat in this way. The answer is no, except this one, and only if it is prepared in a very specific way.”

“So you made this yourself?”

“Yes. It would have been nice to say it is an original from our culture passed down for generations, but it’s ten years old at the most. Not many people have tried it.”

“It is so fresh.”

“I caught it in the morning,” he said.

“For me,” she blushed slightly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Any plans today?”

“Not really, you said I could stay as long as I want. If it’s okay, I’d like to stay here for a bit.”

“Sure, as long as you’d like,” he reiterated.

“You know the way back to my shelter, right?”

“Yes, it is along a route I take.”

“Let me earn my keep. This place is in good shape but with some hammer and some nails, I could fix it up a little.”

“That would be great,” he said. “I’m okay with tools but am not perfectly comfortable with them and the results show that sometimes.”

“Great, I saw the shed back there. I’ll get started after breakfast.”

“Maybe it is something you could get into as a career, always a need for tradespeople. Good money I hear,” Raith said.

“I considered that,” she said. “Dad always made me help around the house, fixing things up. I hear they don’t treat women well in the trades and they don’t treat Indigenous women well anywhere, well … maybe here.”

He smiled at that. “Tell me if you need any items for fixing things and I’ll try to get it.”

“Exactly how?” she asked in an exaggerated voice. “No telephone. Where is the closest post office?”

“I have this pigeon carrier system,” he admitted, “but I use ravens. The raven will go to my friend Mike in the nearest town, Brimwood, and he will bring it in using a small motor bike. So, if one day you want to leave, I can get him to get you out of here in a couple of hours.”

“Raven carrier?” she asked. “You’re full of surprises.”

“That is likely true,” he thought. “I live in a way others do not.”

“That’s nice of him.”

“Well, I pay a premium for the delivery, but he keeps insisting I’m getting a deal because it is a real pain to get into here. I never really use it much, being non-materialistic and living as I do.”

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

After breakfast, she did an inventory of what they had to work with and mentioned things around the place that could use fixing. She quickly got to work, fixing a loose door handle and an annoying squeak on the door. Raith has some errands to run and excused himself.

Days turned into weeks as she realized the roof needed fixing. It was a large job and Raith put in a lot of work as well. She was surprised that he was so fearless when it came to heights, so full of confidence, as if it was impossible for him to fall. Mike came by around once every week as materials were needed to fix things up — there were also items that Lenora was absolutely craving for after being out in the wild for so long. Mike was very surprised to see Lenora and tried to hide a perpetual smirk when talking to Raith. The second time he came by, he passed on to his friend a package and said it was a gift from him and that he did not need to pay for it. Raith read the packaging but had no idea what this was used for. He showed it to Lenora who’s face instantly turned red. Hmm, she thought to herself. How was she going to explain the idea of prophylactics to this man.

Lenora introduced him to fried chicken, half-moon cakes and Guinness beer. He liked it and knew he could eat this type of food indefinitely as so many others did, but he also knew it was unhealthy and made him slow and weak. A rare indulgence was fine, but he preferred a constant steady flow of experience and sensation rather than dizzying heights, but lately the former was losing out to the latter. She asked him about his seemingly ascetic lifestyle. He told her self-sufficiency was always ingrained in his family. Only the weak need and have uncontrollable desires and lust and want. He loved his parents, bit he did not need them. There were friends he loved, but he did not need them. If they were not there, his every day experience would be imperceptibly slightly less. She rolled her eyes at that. Who is this guy? Do you need me then, she playfully asked. He replied that he didn’t want to but probably did.

They tried to take long walks together, but all the paths were single file. Watching sunsets did not work as the view was heavily obstructed by all the trees. He did take her to a waterfall that resembled champagne flowing off four wine glasses. Lenora tried to explain that concept to him and it took a while before he finally understood. He seldom went to his house in the trees since she arrived. He would sleep in the receiving house as she liked having him nearby. He surprised her by getting her pajamas in one of Mike’s trips. She appreciated how thoughtful he was. After the roof was fixed and the dwelling house almost as good as new, she set her sights on redecorating — with Raith’s permission, of course. She wanted to go to town and see what was available which was fine with Raith. Mike said he likely could not pick her up and drop her off in the same day, having other commitments, so she decided to stay for three of days in town at a local motel. She was quite excited about that — back to civilization. Raith saw her eyes light up and had mixed feelings about how excited she was. She noticed his concern and explained it was just that she’s been away for so long.

When Lenora arrived in Brimwood on a foggy Thursday afternoon, she was very enthused. Mike brought her to the motel where she would be staying. There were visitors who frequented the town, so she did not stand out too much. This was a slight fear of hers, not wanting too much attention. Mike gave her his number in case anything came up and said he would check in on her in the evening. To most, it was an unspectacular town on the edge of a giant forest, but to Lenora, it was like going to a larger city like Sudbury, so many people and things to do. There was so much variety and selection and convenience. Raith had given her quite a lot of spending money, but she did not know where to go first. In her delight of her new surroundings, she did not realize how hungry she was. The rich aromas of tantalizing, almost forgotten, cuisine could not be resisted.

In the morning on the last day, someone knocked on her motel room door. She opened it and found Raith standing in front of her.

Lenora jumped into his arms. “What are you doing here?” she asked absolutely delighted.

“I had some unexpected business in town,” he explained. “I thought I’d surprised you.”

“I am very surprised.”

“Are you busy today?” he asked. “I thought we could enjoy the very limited sites and make a day of it here.”

“Whatever I had planned,” which she immediately forgot, “can wait.”

Now they could actually walk hand-in-hand down the streets. They caught many gazes as everyone has heard of everyone else in town and these two were new. Most heard the short dark dressed man was a friend of Mike’s who lived in the woods. He supposedly rescued her from a couple of seedy fellows deep in the woods. They indulged endlessly and explored the world of sugary, fatty, and salty. They had lunch from a street vendor — Raith almost made Lenora-like noises at the grilled Italian sausage. They window shopped after, picking up a few trinkets here and there. Mike was a very skilled biker but even he did not want to ride in and out of the forest after dark, the paths being narrow and challenging with one momentary lapse ending in catastrophe. Thus, dinner was very early and at the town’s finest pub. Raith was out of practice at eating at restaurants but got by following Lenora’s lead. Soon it was time to go. Mike could only carry two people on his bike so he would take Lenora back while Raith would find his own way home. He waited as the couple said good-bye.

“This is so unlike me, hanging out in a town and doing stuff like this,” Raith said. “It was so much fun though. I had the greatest time. Um, I got you a little something.”

Her eyes went wide.

“The idea of the raven has always had significance in my family. Perhaps, that is why we live in trees. I wanted to give you something to commemorate this wonderful day we had and this extraordinary adventure we’ve experienced so far.” He handed her a small square box. When she opened it, she saw a silver necklace. The pendant was a simple outline of a raven landing with it wings spread. The ends of the necklace would connect at the tip of each wing.

“It is beautiful,” she said through teary eyes. He helped her put it on. “I’ll wear it always.” She hugged him long and tightly and kissed him intently.

“I’m so glad you like it,” he said. He could not remember when his smile was so large.

“I love it, as I love you,” she said tenderly.

“I love you too,” he softly whispered.

* * * * *

Lenora wanted to see the tree house. Raith said no one besides their family knew the intricate secret path up the tree. He told her in the nicest way that such a trek was beyond her abilities. An experienced rock climber might be able to do it. Of course, with the right modern equipment it was feasible by most athletic people. Lenora was slightly afraid of heights. Raith weighed the options and decided he would climb up a rope with her blindfolded on his back. She asked if he was sure he was strong and athletic enough to do this? He told her as long as she was securely harnessed to him, there would be no danger. Trust me, he told her assuredly, and she always did. Everything went perfectly smooth. He was not even breathing hard at the end. She was once again amazed, and it reinforced the idea that she would always be perfectly safe with him around.

He was right: there was not much to see. The receiving house was indeed much nicer. There was no shower. We bathed in the river. There was no fireplace. Warm thick blankets and good insulation will suffice. There was no means of cooking. The ideal of a hot meal every day was not part of our value system. They used to have an area for dry pantry goods, but Raith moved it to the receiving house. There weren’t even oil lamps. There used to be candles but, again, they were moved. There were four beds, she noticed.

Raith revealed he had a younger sister, Ravannah, which they did not talk about. She gave up the old traditions and moved to the city for love, money, companionship, and opportunity. Three hundred kilometers away, she no longer kept in touch. I’m not mad and would talk to her in an instant. I am very disappointed though, as were my parents. We were different and did not want to be like everyone else and that was instilled in us from the very first day we were born. She turned her back on all of those values that our family held dear. She has her own life and doesn’t care about this forest. I’d be surprised if she could still … find our home again.

The parents slept in separate beds, she noticed. Raith said he only ever met one other family like theirs and he thought he remembered that they slept in separate beds too. When visiting his mom’s family in Quebec, he remembered one large bed in the master bedroom. There were no pillows, and though he mentioned blankets there weren’t any, having been also moved below.

There were some drawers of clothes. Everything was folded. Nothing was hung. They were just duplicates of the outfit he usually wore: faded blue jeans and a hooded grey sweater. There were no pictures. There were no mementos or records of anything. We do not possess the typical sentimentality of most families. Do you have anything of your mom and dad? I have the house that we grew up in and the beds that I haven’t gotten around to moving. I have their memories, and my visual perception is pretty good, and I believe is less faulty than most. We don’t need photographs.

“Are your father’s remains buried?”

“There are two points here. The first, and this will seem strange, is that we do not bury the dead. We let the bodies be scavenged by predators and take a few bones and make these ceremonial stick-like ornaments which we drape over branches on trees even higher than where we are now.”

“No freakin’ way! That is just so messed up. You made that up.”

“Yes, I agree that to many, it is disturbing,” Raith said, “but I did not choose this family. It is not something you bring to show and tell.”

“No way,” she echoed the sentiment.

“The second point is we do not have my father’s remains. He was on a diplomatic trip visiting other Indigenous groups. Two others and my father witnessed a great gigantic red bear devouring an elk. The creature saw the three and chased after them. My father drew the creature’s attention, perhaps trying to save the others, and it ran after him and attacked him. The others survived and one of them reported what happened to my mother. The last vision the companions had of my father was the fiery bear striking my father with its enormous paws, and then both of them disappearing unseen in the wilderness. The companion who reported it to us said he took around a dozen men and searched for three days but did not find my father’s remains. They did find some blood which they thought was his. They did not know how much was lost. They found a few elk bones.”

“If it’s red, it might easily be detected though the woods are so big. Have you ever thought to …?”

“It is hard to assign right and wrong to actions of animals. If this bear of fire was a constant problem, maybe I would attempt something, but this is just an unfortunate incident. The location where it occurred is quite remote. I never went there myself and sometimes feel guilty about it. Such a trip was a great distance away and likely would be futile. If they could not find anything, I am certain my mom and I would have any better luck … He was someone I admired and respected, and I did everything I could to get his approval. He was who I wanted to be. He was my inspiration, an unmoving rock, and my best friend, and it was taken away by this creature. I’m usually a person of great certainty, but I am not sure exactly what to do. For now, I have let it be, thinking that is what father would have wanted.”

She nodded, trying to show she empathized and sympathized.

Lenora put the parent’s bed together and pushed Raith towards it. He was like an immovable statute at first, but then he got the hint. They both laid down on the bed, her arm around him, her head on his chest.

“How are the winters here?” she asked.

“You don’t want to know,” he smiled playfully.

“You think I can handle it?”

“You can handle me. If you can handle me, winters here are no problem in comparison.”

“Want me to stay?” she asked playfully.

“Definitely,” he said with utmost certainty.

“If I can’t handle the winter, you’ll take care of me, right?”

“Come here,” Raith motioned to her. “You’ll be safe with me.”

* * * * *

Summer, 1977.

“Raith,” Lenora said, in a serious tone he had not heard before. She didn’t know how to broach the subject, but it had been on her mind for weeks.

“Yes,” Raith said.

“I’m just going to come out and say it: I can’t live out here, like this. I gave it a try, but …”

“I know,” Raith said. “I could see it. You’re happy with me and we’re having a lot of fun when we’re together but … this is not what you want … or need.”

“I’d ask you come with me, but we both know your answer.”

“Yes,” he said. “Wherever you end up going, I am not going to fit in, and I cannot leave my ancestral home or the duty that was instilled upon me since birth.” It was an agreeable parting, as both knew it could nor last and each saw what was inevitable. Great love was present, but it could not overcome the coldness of unforgiving reality whose strength was constantly underestimated.

“I will never forget you,” she said. “You are so incredible in this world, and I am glad I visited your world, but it is not mine. What is mine I don’t know yet.”

He nodded. “At least you tried, and you now know for sure. Even though there are many rewarding aspects to this type of living, it is not for everyone, and there is no shame at all in that. Something must be wrong with you if you want to live out here.”

“You are too kind,” Lenora said. “Maybe I’m not a quitter but just doing what is authentically best for me.”

“No maybes. It is for the best. There is no mistaking it.”

She smiled at that. “I’m going to raid your pantry before I go.”

“By all means.”

* * * * *

Mike saw Raith and Lenora in the distance, saying their final goodbyes. Too bad, it did not work out, he thought. It was to be expected though. There is no perfect match or anything approaching it for a man like Raith. All of her things were already packed onto his motorcycle. An unexpected wave of sadness rushed through him. He saw them together. It was real. If they were normal people living in Brimwood, they would grow old together, have children and grandchildren and be happier than everyone around them. There was a connection profound, a bond sublime, and to see it fall apart and die saddened him immensely.

Lenora was shaking and tears streaked from her eyes. “I’m trying not to cry hysterically.”

A tear fell from Raith’s blue eye.

“I … love … you,” she said through a shaken voice. “I … I ... will … always love you.”

“I … love you too,” Raith said clearly and almost loudly because he wanted to be sure she heard him. “If you ever need anything, let me know, and I’ll already be on the way.”

“I will,” she said. “Good-bye, my dearest love.”

“Good-bye, Lenora,” he said, and she turned around and walked towards the motorcycle. She waved once more. He waved back and she looked straightforward after that not daring to look back.

This story continues in part III, Revelation