The Transformation Of Amy Lunaro: Chapter Twenty Nine. {fiction}

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Sadie was pressed into Amy’s belly under the soft white sheets of the bottom bunk bed, which was right in front of the wood stove in Cabin Twelve.

The dog was curled up like a Cinnabon fur ball, and Amy hugged her tighter because the fire had gone out over night and the cabin was freezing at 6:30 in the morning. She spooned the soft wolf dog into her body, synched up with her deeply present breathing and tried to fall back asleep.

Louis had asked to meet him at eight a.m. at the Stables. She thought she’d lie there until then, until the sun warmed up the little room through the windows, but then the banging began again.

Sadie jumped up and off the bed, and began to howl at the door.

Amy pulled the pillow over her head but it merely muffled the pervasive knocking and Sadie’s cries. Finally, naked but for her socked feet, she slipped out and onto the cold wood floor, and rose, taking the covers with her.

She flung open the cabin door to a rush of frosty morning air, and looked up to see the blond man again, this time banging shingles onto the side of the cabin next door.

Sadie rushed across the grass toward where his ladder perched and put her paws on the bottom rung, as if she could crawl up to him.

Amy hoped to scoot inside before he saw her, but she stood there a second too long and he saw her standing there in her socks and white blanket cocoon on the porch.

“Hey,” he called across the lawn. He was wearing a black sweater and tan Carhartts, with that tool belt around his waist.

“Hey,” Amy said, raising her hand from underneath the blanket.

“New girl,” he smiled, raising his hammer in greeting. He was friendlier than he’d been in the storm.

“I’m Amy,” she smiled back.

“What?” he asked, cupping a hand to his ear.

“Amy,” she said louder.

“I can’t hear you,” he shook his head, and beckoned her closer.

Amy walked in her socks across the wet morning grass. She stood directly beneath him on the side of the ladder, and Sadie settled down at her feet.

She looked up into his eyes. “Amy,” she said.

He nodded, taking her in.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Todd,” he told her. He pulled a nail from his belt and poised the hammer.

Wait,” Amy said.

Todd looked down.

“Do you mind, holding off on that a bit? It’s… it’s still pretty early.”

“You going back to sleep?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe.”

“Well, I can’t. Once I’m up, I’m up.”

She thought about it and realized she’d never fallen back asleep either. “Me too,” she nodded in agreement.

“Anyway,” he said, looking around. “You don’t want to miss a minute of it here. It’s the good life. I’m sure going to miss it.”

“Where are you going?” Amy asked, surprising herself that she felt a little bit like she was going to miss a friend.

He didn’t answer that, but said, “There’s coffee in the main cabin. It’s good. I made it. Have some and you’ll be rearing to go.”

She looked up at him through sleepy eyes. She realized she would normally be fretting about how she looked, talking to a man when she just woke up, standing in a bed sheet, but now that she had checked out of the dating game, it didn’t matter.

She felt comfortable, standing there naked in body and mind, talking to him. It felt as if who she was right at that moment, not who she could be, was enough. And while he was attractive, he wasn’t one of those devastating men who had a waiting list of women.

He was accessible, and while he was in shape, he wasn’t built like a God, but a man. Beneath his guardedness was a warm humanity. He felt… familiar. Like this certainly wasn’t their first conversation.

Amy narrowed her eyes. “Do we know each other?” she asked.

He looked back at her closely. He cocked his head.

“I think I’d remember,” he said.

“I know this is weird, but I’m kind of sorry you’re leaving.”

Todd smiled. “It’s for the best. I have a life to attend to back home. Had to come here to make sense of it.”

“Did you?” she asked.

Todd sighed and looked down at the nails in his hands. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just know it’s time to go back.”

He looked at her again. “You know,” he said, “to real life.”

“What is that?” she asked.

He laughed at her. “Go get your coffee.” He had a wry mischievous smile. He was so confident, but he wasn’t cocky. Just… at ease with himself.

Amy laughed back.

“I just don’t think I’ve ever had one,” she said, “so I’m curious.”

“Coffee,” he said.

“Okay,” she said. She asked again, “When are you leaving?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll see you. There’s a dance tonight, the locals come and we host them in the barn. Lou’s jazz band plays. You don’t want to miss that.”

“I’ll check my schedule,” Amy said.

“That’s a joke, right?”

She shrugged. “I tried.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to try with me,” he said.

That relaxed Amy and she felt her shoulders drop. “Okay, I’m getting coffee,” she said, even though she didn’t really feel like leaving him. She sort of felt like she could talk to him forever, not like a boy, but like a friend.

“It’s liquid cocaine,” he said, turning back to his shingles, “you’ll love it.”

Amy was quiet, and as if he could feel her hesitation, he swiveled back around. He gestured at her with his hammer.

“Not that I’m assuming you love, or even, did or do coke.”

He cares what I think, Amy registered. It felt nice.

“It’s okay,” she said, “I sure did once.”

“Okay, maybe I could tell,” he said.

“I was really wild once,” she told him.

“And I hope you’ll be again,” he said, “just the good kind of wild. There’s a difference.”

“What is it?” she asked, “the good kind of wild?”

He paused, and then surveyed the land again.

“These animals will teach you,” he said, “they’re present. At one with their instincts. Un-self-conscious. Free. They don’t have our shame and guilt. They’re just… alive. So totally themselves.“

She nodded.

“I think you’re going to like it here, Amy.”

She looked up at Todd, the morning sun shining around his head like a halo.

“I already do,” she said, and then headed back to her cabin to throw on her jeans and sweater. She felt like for the first time in her life, she was in the right place in the right time, and she could just stop seeking and relax into it.

She and Sadie were half way across the lawn when she heard Todd call out.

“Hey Amy,” he said.

She looked back over her shoulder. And he stared at her, almost like he recognized her too.

Then he said, “Bring me one too, please.”

Amy turned back around and smiled to herself.

“You got it,” she told him.

This is an ongoing series from a forthcoming fiction novel by Sarah Durham Wilson of DOITGIRL.
Tune in weekly for the next chapter in ‘The Transformation of Amy Lunaro’.


Sarah Durham Wilson
Sarah Durham Wilson is a woman in the world who writes about being a woman in the world. She teaches workshops, courses, and retreats on awakening to one’s inner Divine Feminine nature. You can find her on Facebook and her blog.
Sarah Durham Wilson
Sarah Durham Wilson