“We smoke and talk for some time. We talk about everything and nothing in particular… Simply exploring the dynamics of each other’s minds. Extracting from the sunken crevices of our characters. Displaying to one another the abstract and innermost of our desires, fears and hopes. Or just bantering.” – https://mmwiinga.wordpress.com/2017/02/12/freedom-summer-98/
I recommend reading part I first.
A fleet of birds glide overhead. Lana begins to chase after them gleefully from below. When I realise how far into the meadow she is, I trail towards her. Jimi Hendrix continues to ring from the car stereo on the knoll now far behind us.
“Look, look!” she suddenly yells from a few yards in front of me. I trudge my way through the tall grass.
“What is it?”
“Oops. Ah shit, it got frightened by my voice.” She kneels down slowly, concealing herself amidst the grass. I thoughtlessly do the same and try to spot what ‘it’ she is referring to.
“Did you see–”
“Shhhh!” She commands. And in a whisper, says, “It’ll run away. It’s so cute. Wait.”
“Did you see a rodent of some sort?” I murmur.
“Yes. Over there. It’s a bunny.”
“A bunny? Where? I don’t see it.”
There, she says, motioning my head with her hands in its direction. I see the tall grass ruffle very subtly. She suggests we move closer. Taking slow, muted steps towards the animal, she remains at a low stance. I sluggishly follow behind. Lana begins to make a soft clicky sort of sound. A noise you might try getting a cat’s attention with.
“Here, here, little bunny,” she calls. Click, click. “Here. Come, come. We don’t wanna hurt you, little guy.” Then turning to me, she says, “I bet he’s so scared.”
From a closer look, it appears to be an ordinary brown hare. Lana edges closer and closer. The seemingly inattentive creature nibbles fervidly at some grasses and flowers. She turns to me without a word, and smiles cockily. Her eyes are bloodshot red, as mine probably are. Returning her focus back to the hare, Lana draws in a lungful of air before taking an instantaneous plunge at the brown hare. I immediately howl with laughter as she hits the ground with a thud empty-handed. Damn it! shouts Lana. With obvious disappointment daubed on her face, she watches the brown hare scurry away into the deeper wilderness. I chuckle uncontrollably.
“It’s not funny, you prick.” She sits up and dusts off her arms.
“It is! How did you miss? It must have a sixth-sense for leaping lunatics,” I tease. She simply mocks with sarcastic laughter.
I pause and say to her in a serious tone, “Wait, there’s another rodent.”
“Where, where?” she whispers, scanning our surroundings scrupulously.
“Over there!” I shout, diving at her much like she did at the brown hare.
“Get OFF, you fool!” she bellows in laughter.
We jovially tussle and roll around amid the tall grass. Lana pants heavily from below me as I stall, staring deep into her dark brown eyes. That dainty, contagious smile of hers sprouts on her face. I feel her tender hands clasp and pull my head towards her. Our lips meet with me still kneeling over. She’s lying flat on the grass with one knee bent upward. From the car stereo, ‘Stir It Up’ by Bob Marley plays in the distance, barely audible from where we are.
We continue making out for some time. And my hands seem to take on a mind of their own, sauntering salaciously across Lana’s form. Tender groans break from her. Slowly, unconsciously, we shed items of clothing one by one. Overtaken by euphoria and senseless aphrodisia, one action leads to another. I love her with every fibre of passion my soul possesses. I grope her and caress her beneath the sun. We make love. We make song. We make poetry. Every thrust, every note, every line oozing its own electrifying flavour of affection. Sweating and huffing, we wordlessly lay beside each other in the thick of the overgrown meadow once we finish.
Lana and I stay out in the countryside until evening, talking, listening to music and smoking some more. We lay on the hood of her father’s Honda Accord and watch the cloudless blue sky turn to a handsome, starlit navy.