Echo

I run through the woods exploring, looking at the squirrel that just scampered down the tree to greet me, and then just as quickly scurries off. I chase him a bit until it disappears into some leaves. Funny how fast they are for being so little. I’m a lot bigger and I think I can run very fast but they always leave me behind.

As I look around some more I see a rabbit hopping to another one. They must be pals although each one is clearly looking out for its own food to eat. Must be nice to have another friend that is the same. 

Just then I hear my friend call my name, Echo. I think he called me that because when he first got me at the dog pound I barked every time he said something.  Now I hear him yelling my name loudly but not meanly. Echo! He is the kindest man in the world I think. He takes me on long walks in the woods like today where I run off and explore and he wanders and thinks on his own. He’s a good friend. 

Sometimes I think he thinks he is taking me on a walk but I know that I’m the one who is taking him on a walk. If it weren’t for me nuzzling at the door to go out he would stay in most of the day and tap tap tap on that machine with a screen. 

But eventually, he does hear me, he sees me, and he opens the door and we go out back through the yard and into the woods. I hear him sigh loudly as we enter the forest. It’s as if he is really breathing now, taking in big gulps of fresh air instead of the conditioned air inside. He needed this and I knew it, plus I needed it too. We’re a good pair.

I keep looking around as I run back towards him. I see him wandering aimlessly calling my name but never worrying. He is confident that I would never leave him, never keep running and not come back to him. I feel the same way about him. He will always look for me and walk home with me. 

He doesn’t really take me home, we walk there together. There is no taking, there is just enjoying the adventure out and then walking home for the life we have there together.

All of a sudden we both see an eagle flying high in the sky. We stop and listen quietly and just watch. He has a look of awe on his face but I’m not jealous. It’s the look he gives me multiple times a day when I run to him and sit by his feet as he works. Or the times I jump on the couch beside him as we watch television. 

Today after seeing the eagle for a moment he takes out his phone to take pictures, zooming in and out, getting some video as well. Then he turns from pointing the phone camera at the sky and starts taking pictures and videos of me. He knows I love to perform and I run around in circles and jump up and bark and he laughs and smiles as I do all of this. Later as we sit together on the porch tonight he will show me the pictures and videos of the eagle and of me. He will talk about how we saw the eagle and how we took the pictures. He will smile and tell me that these are some of the best pictures we have ever taken, especially the ones of me.

He will laugh as I bark saying yes and he will rub my head and tell me he loves me. I will bark in response and nod my head and he will hug me and then get a treat for me and one for himself. 

Sometimes he almost seems to know what I am thinking. Almost. It’s as if he hears me and gets me. Just like he’s in my head, maybe I’m in his head too. Echo.

The Sewer

The smell of lilac wafted through the air as their hands touched, fingers intertwined as they walked hand in hand across campus. Looking down he saw her diminutive figure and her long blonde hair flowing down across her shoulders that were sunkissed from the time at the lake. 

She smiled up at him, he was much taller and bigger in every way than she was, and the touch of his strong hand made her feel even smaller and that was OK when she was with him. She smelled him as he was so close and he smelled like a man, not a bad smell that repelled her but one that drew her even closer. It was the smell of a mix of citrus, spicy clove, and creamy woods and it clung to her even when they were apart. Sometimes as she woke up she still could take in that smell as she wrapped her arms around herself and thought of him.

Today as they walked and glanced lovingly at each other he bent down to smell her and take her in deeply. Then he breathed out and smiled hugely as he said softly to her, “You smell like a sewer.”

She immediately withdrew her hand from his and frowned. She stepped back and scowled up at him. Then, without a word, she turned and walked away. 

He didn’t have a clue what offended her. After just a moment of watching her heading in the opposite direction from him, he hurried to catch up with her. As she continued to walk quickly he walked beside her and then asked, “What’s up? I thought we were having a good afternoon. I know I was. What’s wrong?”

His words irritated her delicate ears. How could he be this clueless? How could he tell me that I smelled like a sewer? Who did he think he was to treat me this way?

She finally stopped and turned towards him and grabbed his beard and yanked at it over and over and over. He was surprised and pained by the tugs on it and she didn’t stop. But then finally he grabbed her little soft hands and pushed them away from him.

“Why are you so mad at me? What did I do that was wrong? I didn’t forget our six-month anniversary today. I thought you liked the necklace of the sailboat that I gave you to remind you of how we met by the lake that day and both were watching the sailboat go by. Just tell me. What have I done? You’re small but you yanked out some hair from my beard and that hurt. What is wrong with you?”

She reached toward his big face again but didn’t pull at his beard. Instead, she slapped him. Hard. His mouth flew open and he just stared at her. There was no anger in him but just a wondering look about why she struck him.

Finally, she stood her ground, looked up into his face from directly below him, and said, “You told me that I smell like a sewer! That was a nasty thing to tell your girlfriend. I showered today. You are the one that may need to shower more often, even though I really don’t mind. But a sewer? You think I smell like a sewer?”

He took it in. Waited. And then got a sheepish grin on his face. “Oh, when you put it that way I guess I should explain. But really, I meant it as a compliment.”

She immediately turned and stomped in the opposite direction again as he rushed to keep up with her. She was a slight girl but when she got moving she could keep up quite a pace. Finally, he put his big hand on her shoulder and said, “Please, stop. Let me explain.”

She walked forward a moment and then turned and faced him, crossing her arms across her chest. Looking up at him she said, “OK buster, you’ve got three minutes to explain yourself. I guess I owe you that much. Go ahead. Make this one go away.”

He paced briefly, walked back to her, then led her to a nearby bench where she sat down. As she sat she couldn’t help but smell him as he was so close. She loved how he smelled. She took it all in. She took him in. How could he think that she smelled like a sewer? And how could he tell her that and not think she would get mad?

He knelt in front of her on the grass as she sat on the bench. He wanted to touch her soft hands. To take them into his and kiss them. But he knew that wasn’t a good idea right now. He hoped that later he might.

He looked at her and said, “You have never been to my home yet though I hope to take you there when we can get away. I’d love for you to meet my Mom and see where I grew up. I suppose it isn’t much to look at from your perspective. You grew up in a big house in a city and everything looked great and the lawn was neatly mowed. And that’s a good thing. It must have been very nice for you.

But where I grew up was quite different. It was in a little village where a lot of people had small houses. Lots of my friends lived in those but I didn’t. I lived on the edge of the village in a trailer. It wasn’t much but it was ours. Mom always made sure the inside was clean and neat and we had everything we needed. I mowed the grass, complaining about it sometimes especially when I was nine or ten and wanted to be playing baseball with my friends. But as I grew through my teen years I didn’t really mind cutting the grass. I liked the smell of it. The newly cut grass had a certain smell that was different than before. I liked it. I didn’t know it at the time but that smell was the smell of home, of love.

When I smelled it I just knew that whatever happened, I was OK because my Mom was looking after me and God had our back. The smell was pure heaven to me.

For the longest time, I thought the smell was just the grass when I had cut it. Then at some point, I realized that out front between our front yard and the road, where there was no sidewalk because there weren’t any in our neighborhood, there was a little ditch. When it rained water ran through it and because of that sometimes it would smell, like a sewer. But believe it or not, it wasn’t a bad smell because there were lilacs growing there along that ditch. They smelled so good.

So when I would be out mowing I would smell those lilacs in that sewer of a ditch and the flowers invigorated me. They showed me that there could be beauty, in this case, a beautiful smell, even in a drainage ditch. I loved that smell.

So today when I said you smelled like a sewer I know I should have chosen my words better but I actually meant it as a compliment. Your perfume. Your lilac smell. I love it. I love the way you smell. Being with you, smelling you, is like being home to me. The best place. The place of love.”

She leaned over and put her arms around his big neck and hugged him tightly and laughed, “Well, when you put it that way. I guess it’s a good thing to smell like a sewer.”