August Amber

By Rita Murstein Wohl

It was August and people were sweating from the Monongahela to the Ohio River, along the great and the little Miami Rivers. The mighty Missouri was no place to cool down and the Mississippi was giving the South a chance to live up to its reputation as defined in books by Tennessee Williams and the rest of the great writers.
The steam from the Ohio River rolled up the state all the way to Lake Erie. Cleveland, the coldest city in Ohio, was suffering. Glasses with Mint Juleps, Tom Collins, and homemade lemonade were clinking all over the country. The kids couldn't stay in their clothesline tents. It was too hot to roll weed cigarettes. The dogs were heaving their breaths and drooling white foam. Everyone was back from the YMCA camp, Girl Scout sleep outs or a week in Canada with their families.
We were lolling around and totally lacking in energy. The elm tree offered the only respite around. We cooled off under the hose which we later used for drinking. We were lying around trying to figure out how they made opium from poppies. Mr. Hensler, the principal, had beautiful ones in his garden and we knew he wouldn't do that. We speculated about boiling them or drying them. But which part? That would be our next project but right now we could barely move.
The cicadas were singing like mad and butterflies were all over the gardens. In cooler times, given enough boredom, we would try to catch them with our nets from the dime store. I only know one person who ever caught one and he squashed it in a book because that's what scientists did. I had a lot of respect for him.
We were showing off some of our summer trophies. A broken antique vase from a trash pile, on old pipe, a shiny new knife, an aggie, and a clear yellow stone. We loved to go through trash piles and find fantastic stuff, and when we tired of our trophies, we would dump them back in the trash pile.
I remember the vase. It had a white base enhanced by a scenic painting. Its body was entwined with loops and scrolls of raised china. It still had its spout but was very broken. The new knife of course was the favorite. It spelled power and wealth. The only other prestigious item was the set of pearled handled guns that Lila had. The aggie was passed around for all to lovingly hold.
And then there was the clear yellow stone. Interesting, but what was it? The bottom of a beer bottle? Part of an old medicine bottle? Just as we were looking at it, two yellow butterflies fluttered right under our noses. Everyone rubbed their noses, fell backwards, and screamed. At last, there was some action today.
We laughed and grabbed the hose for relief. That is , everyone except Eunie. She just sat there thoughtfully. She told us that when the twin butterflies touched us, the yellow stone that she was holding got very hot. When that happened, a shadow grew inside of it.
Everyone wanted to see it. It wasn't passed around. It was grabbed around. Eunie polished it on her shorts and then cupped it to see if it had an inner light. No such luck.
Richard said his mom had a string of beads just that color. Tim said his mom had some too and she got them at Brown's Department Store on Main Street. Maybe it was a rare yellow diamond. Little Sugie said it looked like tree sap she had seem in a display at school. Lila said she had a set of Book of Knowledge in the house. As much as we had an aversion to books in the summer, most of us followed her into the house.
The house was always clean and not too hot. Wilda was babysitting today. She was so nice and pretty with lovely blonde ringlets around her face. She offered us water from the spigot but not ice. We had a ice box, not a refrigerator, and we had to save ice until the iceman came.
Wilda helped us look up yellow and then stone and then yellow stone. Somehow, Wilda got us to Amber. Wow. Sugie was right. It was tree sap encasing bugs from thousands of years ago. But this wasn't a bug - this was a shadow. What did that mean? If you opened the stone would the bug come out? Would it come out alive? If we opened the stone , what would come out? Should we dare? Wilda gave us a bowl of fruit and we went back under the elm tree.
We gravely pondered the immediate future. What was in the plum pit? Had anyone ever opened an apple seed? What about a peach pit or a cherry seed? What were we really doing when we spit watermelon seeds?
We knew these were seeds but what was inside them? Little trees? Small plants? Little fruits? Well this situation was asking for it. We picked out the seeds, opened them, and everything was gunk. How could God open a peach pit and we couldn't? Everything had something in it. Nothing had a shadow.The mystery was still there.
We loved mysteries. We love to solve them. Nothing was safe from our speculation. We noticed the comings and goings of everyone. Houses of mourning attracted the most attention. They all seemed to have a strange aroma. We decided that some people were murdered, but that's another story.
We speculated what would happen if we opened the yellow stone. Richard, who was older and liked to scare us, described the unleashing of a black cloud of evil. We would all die in our beds if we were good or be strangled if we were bad. Howie, a devout Catholic, whom I dearly loved, said we would die of pestilence. Not to be outdone, Annie, the group Protestant, said it would be the time of the Apocalypse.
After screaming at each other, jumping up, and raising our hands, we decided to open the stone. Tommy ran home and got a hammer and we began. Each one took their turn. We would hammer, cover our faces, and scream. We ended up with a glistening pile of amber.
Our dads were walking home, the big kids were riding their bikes home for dinner, and the moms were calling their kids. Reluctantly, we peeled off from the circle.
If only I could learn so much in a day today. Now it's your turn to figure out how the shadow existed.