Demeter

 

Demeter was late for the coach. Mr Tallis had been told by a reliable source in the Upper fifth that she was in love with the small Saker Falcon and they might as well leave her to her fate. Fate was of no importance to Ben Tallis, so he asked the constant Amy Boulton to find the dreamy girl, something Amy had been trying to do all term.

 

Of course the Saker falcon seemed unperturbed by the red haired girl’s enchanted stare: only the rippling of her fingers brought his eyes to her face and then he looked away; imagining perhaps a return to the steppes of Asia or the Russian Altai Mountains. For Demeter had read his story on a plaque by his cave and was lost in a world of bleached dust and Uzbek copper.

 

Amy waited at the side of Demeter and watched them both. Genus Falcon. Species: Cherrug. The solidity of the words made her smile and she replanted her boots carefully next to Demeter’s sandals, repeating the words out loud:

‘Genus falcon. Species: Cherrug.’ There was something teasing about the way she drew out the ‘cherrrruuuug’ that called Demeter back from the Mongolian steppes and her dark green eyes flashed at Amy who continued to look at the small bird.

 

‘I have been sent to collect you Demeter, ’she said and Demeter caught at a voice that made her think of rich stews and wet wood.

 

‘I like it here’ returned Demeter irrelevantly and Amy laughed linking her arm and whispering in her ear, ‘good byes are but temporary’. She guided her back up the white path, but slowly too, as Amy watched their feet match and mismatch all the way to the coach.

 

The saker falcon watched Demeter’s red hair recede along the path and gleamed at the flash of an amber ring as the tall dark haired girl turned and waved a salute.

 

The falcon contemplated the pair. They were caught together in that orange light. Solidified sunshine. Tears of the Gods. Inclusions.  Amber was time’s corridor. The dark friend seemed to know it already. But it was Demeter who would have to travel there. Very soon.

 

Mr Tallis glared at Demeter as Amy followed her onto the coach, lightly pushing her friend into the spare seats behind the History Dept just as Jason their driver- for -the -day pointedly started up the engine and swung away from the car park narrowly   missing some crows eating chips.

 

Tallis repeated his earlier instructions about course work and field trips over his microphone and reaffirmed the need for punctuality and commitment at all times.

 

But Demeter had only come because there were spare places and so she looked out of the window into the sun.

 

Wet wood in her ear:

 

‘Apparently the saker falcon feeds on red cheeked Sousliks in the wild. Citellus erythrogenys to you and me Demeter. I think you should make a note…’

 

Demeter turned her neck and looked sideways into Amy’s black eyes and Amy had the curious sensation that she was back in front of the falcon again. She held her breath and waited; suddenly glad she wasn’t a strange squirrel with an even stranger name.  Demeter frowned and reached down into her bag for a small yellow book and then handed it to Amy. 

 

‘Please could you write down what you have just said Amy?’ And Demeter held out an old pen. Amy raised her knees and biting at her lips started to ink in a small cartoon of a falcon (the ink was black she noticed) falling upon a small creature that looked more cheeky than fearful. She then added a tree (also black) and then a mountain with a cave mouth and a girl with long hair standing on at the foot of the mountain looking upwards. It was Demeter with her sidelong way of looking at people. But in black.

 

Demeter traced the shapes of the picture with two fingers slightly smudging the ink.  .  Demeter noticed Amy had eczema and felt odd; as if this confirmed some thing she had known before. She touched her friend’s wrist and felt the pinked skin. 

‘There!’ Amy handed Demeter her book. But caught out in another place Demeter reached out and held Amy’s right hand.  ‘Is it always there? ‘

 

Amy turned her hand over and examined the pink rash that zig -zagged all the way across her palm, over her knuckles and even in between her fingers.

‘I have to shower with gloves on and it blisters when I touch hot surfaces.’ Amy blushed at her own precision and Demeter startled by Amy Bolton’s blushes, felt her own cheeks turning red too. And then for no apparent reason she felt she was becoming trapped in a liquid world with this girl whom she never ever wanted to leave.

 

You can be the girl at the foot of the great mountain and I’ll be the falcon…and your lover said the girl with the amber ring.

 

Only she didn’t say these words but she felt them just the same; underwords for an underworld.

 

At least until next Friday murmured Demeter, eyes glancing once more out of the coach window. But smiling now.

 

‘Friday is D- day then?’

 

 Wet dark wood and rich heavy stews once again.