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On Friday, November 18th, 2005, my Aunt Maredith passed away. Since I was in the midst of NaNoWriMo at the time, I decided to write about a memory I had of her and incorporate it into The Lost Child. Below is that memory (unfortunately the above pic is from a polar opposite summer day with Lou Ann posing out front. But at least this gives you a glimpse of the actual dwelling and you can see the outside ladder and the rooftop. Trust me - that December night was magical):
December 20th, 1994 – Christmas In Medicine Park
The old cobblestone house sat on a raised piece of land just above the main road and facing the fresh spring creek for which the little village was named. In the old days the place had been a popular resort and throes of people came from all over the region to relax in the natural waters which the local Indians had long favored as a healing source of vitality and improved health. Over time the founders left the area one by one and in recent years the village had fallen into disrepair with dilapidated buildings scattered all about and discarded trash bouncing along the streets.
But Bobby’s aunt had just returned from California to reclaim the old cobblestone house that her grandfather had built when he first helped establish Medicine Park and things were looking up. The creek had been cleaned of debris and a new sense of pride was surging right along with the revitalized spring waters. The arrival of Bobby’s aunt was a key development in this renewal as she brought with her the tradition of her family’s past involvement along with her very own unique energy. She was heartily welcomed by all those already there and committed to the great task of making Medicine Park the equal of its name.
Maredith had been living there for a few months and was excited to invite the entire extended family to a sort of Christmas housewarming in the old cobblestone home. This would be Bobby’s first visit to the dwelling and he was eager and a little curious to see what the place looked like. As with most of the original homes in Medicine Park, the house was built with native cobblestone and plaster. You entered through a front porch that had some time ago been enclosed, and once inside the living area you were immediately struck by the uniqueness of the structure. Of course it was all the original work inside, with a concrete floor and an old cobblestone fireplace. There was a very tight spiral staircase that twisted around itself and on up to the second floor. From there you could step outside onto a patio and then take an outside metal ladder that led to a flat roof and a vantage point that offered the most direct and clear vision to the heavens from this man's earth.
On that clear cold night just days before Christmas Bobby climbed up that ladder and stayed a while. As the smoke from the fire trickled up past him he gazed at the stars, the moon, the foggy strip of the milky way, and looked out beyond the denuded trees and saw the Christmas lights from the faraway homes shining upon the still creek. All was quiet. All was peaceful. Bobby could see that the Indians had been right, as usual. This was a holy place, a place for spiritual awakening and the nurturing of the body and soul. A place where you might meditate surrounded by the tranquility of the Wichita Mountains and the canyons and the lakes. He whispered a few words, a prayer really, and suddenly realized that he was starting to believe in God again, a fresh true faith growing from the shattered remains of an old false faith. A meaningful hard-earned faith. One that could last.
He stood at the edge of the roof and unzipped his trousers. Nature was calling and nature was beautiful and not to be ignored. There was no one else around, no movement outside and below, so he figured why not? He faced the back of the house and under the glow of a silvery moon he let go, a christening of sorts he reckoned, and he felt relief by its release.
A few minutes later he returned below to the party and told his aunt, “You know, I really like this place. In fact, I love it!”
She turned to him with warm glowing eyes and said in her big gorgeous voice, “Oh you do, do you?” and then she laughed and said, “it’s wonderful to have your official endorsement, but I might have to do something about that leak from the roof, don’t you think?” Then she smiled, winked, and walked away into the magic of the December night.
