I stare out at the wide, open range. Grassy hills. Tall stalks of yellow grass.
The countryside is my favorite place. I've been here as long as I can remember. My ma says I was born here, that I was a country girl. She says I was hatched from the sky itself, and that my bro burst from the earth. So that's what she named us - Skye and Earth.
"Hey Skye." My brother sits next to me. "Doesn't it feel nice today?"
"That's what you always say, you big pile of dirt."
He smiles. Of course Earth knows I'm joking. "No, I mean real nice. Like the sky and the earth are in harmony together." That's him - the philosophical one.
"Yeah, I guess." I'm not much of a talker. Our whole family is quiet. We don't even make a peep.
"I've finally noticed something Skye," he says. "When I put your name together, it becomes 'Skye Hunter'. Just like the real sky hunter, like Mama says."
My ma always told us a story about the sky hunter; how he hunted the sky, day after day tirelessly. And at last, he chased the sky to the end of the world: where the sky and earth met. They were siblings, two parts of the same whole. The earth allowed the hunter to take the sky. Unless the hunter took him along too. The hunter felt so sad to separate the pair. So the hunter left them alone and they rejoiced. Mama told us that when the sun turns big and the sky and earth touch, they're celebrating the time the sky hunter let them stay together.
We both believe it. And today's the day that's happening.
"Want to explore, Skye?"
"Of course. It's our tradition, ain't it?"
Our tradition each year whenever the sky and earth embrace is to explore parts of the land we have never ventured into. It's been that way for a long, long time. My ma says we've done it since we'd been able to get up and walk. We took her words to heart and started to do every time. Every, single time.
Earth jumps over a rock and heads into the long stalks of grain. "You coming?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world, you pile of dirt," I call back.
We stroll along the path which our Pa had cleared. I never can remember his face clearly until I see him in person. He's in the army. Ma tells us he's invincible, but Earth sometimes tells me that Ma's wrong.
I agree with Earth.
The grass brushes against my shirt, tickling my nose. I think I hear Earth sneeze, but I'm not so sure.
We walk for a while. Maybe a mile. Ma says most city folk would have collapsed after that much. But she says we're strong and hearty, ready to take on everything in the entire universe. She says that's what country folks are made of.
The blades of grass starts to disappear when Earth suddenly halts. I nearly slam into him, but luckily, inertia is working for me today.
"What is it, Earth?"
He grins. "Ain't it wonderful?"
I glance at what he's looking at, and I can't tear my eyes away from it. It's so beautiful.
What we're peeking at is a glistening river, full of sparkles, twists and turns. To be honest, I don't think I've seen a river up until now.
"Yeah, it sure is," I reply.
I run my fingers through the water. The river swishes in return.
It's so clear. I can see the fish swimming across the brook, rocks scattered all over the bottom.
Earth picks up a rock and throws it into the stream. It plunks in and sinks. Did I tell you that Earth doesn't have a very good aim?
Unfortunately, it hit a turtle on the head. I don't know if turtles can pass out, but if they can, the poor turtle faints dead away and splashes into the water.
"Earth!" I snap.
"Sorry Skye! Wasn't my fault. Turtle was sitting there like a squatting duck, anyways."
"Naw, I don't think so. It was your lousy aim," I retort.
He shrugs. "What do you want me to do?"
Now it's my turn to shrug. "I dunno. Save it?"
"'Kay then." He tugs off his shirt and wades into the water. "Wow," he remarks. "Deeper than I thought."
He slowly inches his way to the turtle. Then something very unexpected happens.
At first, it starts out small. Then it becomes bigger and bigger. The current starts to churn and churn and carry Earth away.
"Hey! What the-"
Too late. The river drags him away like a child wailing over his dropped ice cream.
Author's Note: The way of language used represents the characters' disconnection with the city -- therefore, the language and grammar is different than most of ours.
