2005: Her Name was Lucy!

When Lucy died, it was just before the final stir of sleep; somewhere between the moments of waking up and rolling back over, only this time Lucy didn't wake. No, there was no grand exit for the ancient creature, no elaborate fanfare, just a soft transition befitting the quiet soul. But to know her in death was to know her in life, as I once did and in doing so can say with absolution that she was the best of our kind. Of course she would never admit to that herself, "I'm nothing but an old maid," she'd summize. Oh sure she'd added a few more rings to her flesh, like bunched up fabric, but that's the way it was for all of us. But I digress, where we find Lucy in her final weeks alive is nothing short of poetic: perched atop her favorite hill gazing out at the pasture, with the sun setting in the distance. The dirt as soft as sand beneath her feet, and the air so settled you could hear a pin drop. That's the way Lucy liked it.

She had a beautiful view of some beeches and oaks among a field drenched in rapeseed, like a lake of gold beneath the setting sun. And the clouds, bursting with hues of purple and pink. Now Lucy wasn't much to complain. She made a point to never do so, even when arthritis ravaged her joints, or her skin became so dry they feared for her health. No, you couldn't get a peep out of her, only the subtle rise and fall of deep breaths as she'd inhale the honeysuckle. She used the soft landscape to reflect her life's journey, from the warm savanna plains, through the seedy underworkings of the circus life, to the safety of the Sanctuary.

I can remember the very moment I was born. She thought. The first steps I took. I can remember my mother's eyes and my father's nose. She recalled. But what more can you expect from an elephant? Oh did I forget to mention that Lucy was an elephant? Well, she was, and a damn good one too. She continued to gaze out, the sun never faltering from her migration south. Lucy stood atop the hills, her ivy towers, away from the other elephants. She rarely bothered herself with the problems of elephant life. She really didn't even see herself as one, but rather human. So it's no surprise that she once lost her heart to one.

"Alright, beautiful." A soft voice traveled near, shaking Lucy from her day-dreams. She knew that voice; it belonged to a young woman who responded all the time to the name Charlotte so Lucy saw her as such. Her deep red locks were pulled behind her head with a band. It resembled a trunk motioning with every movement. Human hair is such a funny thing, Lucy thought, some have too much of it, while others have too little. Charlotte's is always the perfect amount. She walked up to Lucy to which the elephant responded with the unhinging of her jaw. This in turn caused the young woman to smile widely as she scratched the elephant's tongue. Ah, that hit the spot, thought the usually quiet elephant. Now Charlotte had a habit of talking to Lucy about her life. "Well..." Charlotte started, "he said he loved me last night, Lucy." Lucy's eyes shifted toward the tiny woman. "And do you want to know what I said?" What did you say, thought the elephant. "Nothing. I just smiled." Lucy shook her head side to side, her large ears flapping like two flags in the wind. Charlotte chuckled, "ya know, sometimes it feels like you know what I'm saying." I do know Charlotte, thought Lucy, and I'm here for you. The tiny human walked with the ancient creature, like in a children's fairytale book, unlikely individuals becoming the best of friends. The young and spritely woman was nothing close to the few humans Lucy had the misfortune of meeting in the beginning. Her tiny nose scrunched up as she continued to speak, all the while guiding Lucy down the hill.

They entered the back of a rather strong and sturdy building, the metal facade only slightly rusted. Just the way I am, thought Lucy, slightly rusted but still strong. She chortled at this observation in a way only an elephant would be able to. What people don't get is just how funny elephants can be. Quick-witted and sarcastic come to mind, but not in a way that people are accustomed to.

Lucy followed beside her tiny friend, never lagging or leading. Her stall was in the very far corner where the light bulb hung rather low. Lucy entered her cubicle of hay and blankets while the others followed close behind. It didn't take long for the once quiet building to resound with chatter from both humans and elephants. One by one gates were closed. Even the hinges had something to say. Then, as quick as it seemed, the elephants were alone.

Elephants often dream in vivid colors. For Lucy it was dales full and vibrant, that dipped like ripples in the water when the wind blew. Or the deep rich sands of the African plains, the grains meeting her feet with a warm hug - a place she knew so well in the first few years of her life.

1922: What is Life to a Baby?

The year was 1922, and it was extra hot that summer season as a break in the rain continued. Lucy came into the world with a roar and a thought, her family gathering near. The dust settled and the little babe gazed out, her eyes bouncing from face to face. Her forehead wrinkled like the tides coming in at sea. What is one to think when they're born? Do they remember where they were just moments prior? Do they wonder what strange place they have come upon? What of these strange creatures and strange surroundings? And what does one think of oneself? The calf found herself engulfed in a large celebration with family and friends. The large elephants circled the calf, raising their trunks and trumpeting into the open blue. They gleefully hurled chunks of earth into the air which also happened to include excrement, their long noses in a fit of dancing. Lucy could only see a forest of legs moving slow, as if a constant breeze blew through the stumps of the elephants. A large elephant with wrinkles and scarring across her face and long dirty tusks stepped out of the crowd. "We are here to celebrate life!" she shouted. "We are here to bring in the new and hoist up the future. That future is there." She pointed her trunk down to where Lucy stood. Frightened now that the largest beast in the area was singling her out she awkwardly dove behind her mother. "We now have one purpose and that is to train our kin so that when we go they can continue where we left off." The elephants flung their trunks about in agreement, Lucy would presume; and with a deep breath blew a most beautiful choral arrangement. Lucy felt the strong trunk of her mother as it wrapped about her squirming body. The sensation of touch immediately overwhelmed her. What is this odd feeling? The babe thought. The land fell from her feet as she was gently lifted up. It was love, and it surged through her soul with mighty wings.

After becoming accustomed to legs and what they could do, Lucy ran alongside her mother playfully kicking up dust as they walked for miles over sand and mud toward the Baobab trees and Kenkiliba shrubs in the distance. But of course this is no problem for Lucy. It was just as natural to her as breathing.

The rains brought forth new life and new vegetation for the African species both large and small. Lucy loved this greener world more because there was so much to do but especially because she felt safe and hidden; it provides shelter, thought the calf, from the small creatures that could conjure thunder from their arms. Earlier in the year Lucy and her mother had a run-in with some angry men, as she would later call them, who chased them. Lucy had never seen such hatred before, not to mention in such a tiny species. Goodness, thought Lucy, what's wrong with them? She can still see their faces - two wrinkled dark men and one extremely round lighter man dressed in something much too small for him. Unfortunately Lucy would become all too familiar with men like these in her future. Strange sounds escaped their scrawny lips as they charged toward the two. Lucy's mother shoved her behind and with a loud bellow, swung toward the men. Lucy could see the round man, some distance off, pull a large stick from his side. He took aim and out of nowhere, through a puff of smoke, Lucy heard the strangest sound whizz past them. The other men stopped and turned, giving the calf and mother, opportunity to run. Another sound like the crack of thunder echoed through the sky. They ran for miles, never stopping to look back. When the sounds of blasting finally stopped and they could no longer hear the swift shuffling of feet, refuge was the next thing on their minds. Lucy joined her mother beneath a rather large tree and they gazed about at the distant plain.

"Mom, where are you?" the tiny wrinkled creature cried out. The backdrop of the desert plain responded with a long silence. "Mom?" she called once more. Her beady eyes not yet fully opened from sleep scanned all around with no sight of her mother. It seemed a thousand lifetimes before she heard any noise outside her own thoughts. The ground resounded beneath Lucy's feet a low and soft rumble until it built up into a crescendo. She watched the slow blurry creature come into focus, her mother's rough exterior softening. "Mother!" Lucy cried. Her pudgy legs pumping as fast as they could, "I was so scared. Where were you?" Lucy wailed. "It's alright little one, I was never too far." Her mother replied. "You were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you." She lowered her trunk to the young elephant dropping at her feet a large chunk of tree bark, tufts of grass, and soil. Lucy gazed in silence feeling quite silly to think that her mother would leave her. She chuckled under her breath and poked at the assortment of food. "Sorry," she mumbled, scooping up the cool blades of grass.

At just a year old the young elephant felt quite mature enough to roam. But even in this old age Lucy still had moments that caught her by surprise. For example the heat and how, on most days, she could actually feel it stick to her flesh like tree sap. Or the tiny world that flooded parts of the ground, the strict work ethic of the ants always on the move; they tired out the elephant. The curious sounds in the distance whom Mother called neighbors. She gazed out onto the vast landscape, the sandy dunes and vegetation, the trees withered and ancient. Why are they that color? Thought Lucy. Why not something more bright? Her thoughts were soon placed to the side upon the sudden sounds of shuffles in the foliage. She closed her eyes as a tremor rippled across the terrain. She dug her toes into the earth as the aftershock resonated into her feet. She knew that frequency. An elephant, thought Lucy. She heard a shrill trumpeting cry, as if to announce the arrival of a most important figure. It was soon followed by a strong and present rumble. Then Lucy realized that the trees were quivering. The young elephant watched in shock as the trees bowed down. It was horrifying! The branches snapping beneath their weight and the leaves chafing were enough to make Lucy grimace. "Good evening," came that same shrill voice. Twice the size of mother and twice the ugly, thought Lucy. "Good evening madam," Lucy's Mother replied. The ancient creature's trunk had scars in every fold and where her tusks might have been was instead a shard of bone. Not to forget about her right eye or lack thereof; a long and deep scar came down over the socket. It was unlike anything Lucy had ever seen towering over the small elephant. The little creature gazed up in terror and awe. "Little one, won't you say hello?" Mother softly asked. But Lucy couldn't find her voice, she felt her legs weaken and shake, at any moment going out from under her. The haggard giant glared down at Lucy in silence seemingly studying the frightened elephant. "Can you speak?" She harrumphed. Mother came up beside her baby and maneuvered herself between the two. A shadow was cast upon Lucy as consequence but that was perfectly okay with her. "She is just a little shy," spoke her mother in a calming voice. The giant elephant stepped back and nodded in silence. Finally Lucy could breathe again. The ancient giant turned her body toward the toppled trees and with a yank of her trunk completely stripped one side of the bark off. She then nosed through the greenery and dusted from the roots the loose top soil. Lucy watched in despair as they were slowly dissected. You wouldn't think one was supposed to fall in love with their food, but the calf did just that. It then dawned on her that as she watched the massacre that the old elephant was not alone. Further behind the trees stood three more elephants, one that even stood at Lucy's height. They stepped forward bidding good evening to Mother and then to Lucy. "This is my family," explained the beastly elephant. "I came upon them while quenching my thirst further south. We have been together ever since." They encircled the trees, one by one standing the same length apart before tearing into the smorgasbord of food. The ancient beast signaled to Mother and Lucy to come forward. "Please, enjoy the provisions." She said, her pitch only slightly higher. "Then you must think about joining us. The more the better." Lucy turned to her mother waiting for her to shoo them away but it never came. Instead Lucy found herself being led into the huddle between two larger elephants. They blocked the sunlight from warming up the babe and darkness instead began to rise.

2005:
Lucy found herself suddenly old, crippled in pain, and her hips throbbing with her heartbeat. She stood up from the haven of blankets and saw a peculiar little creature smiling up at her. He had the strangest hair protruding from his face and the springiest from the top of his head. It reminded Lucy of a radish or turnip. "Good morning Lucy, did you sleep well?" He asked. He opened the rusty iron gate and cleared the way for her. This is life now, thought Lucy. In my dreams I relive my life and I see Mother again. But as I waken each morning, the harshness of reality sets in and I feel the pangs of old age, and memories that hurt me all over again. It's almost too much to take. And the knowledge that I will never feel that wonderment of the world, of not knowing what's on the other side of that tree or pond. Lucy gazed into the cement flooring looking at the knicks and stains that covered a large portion of it. The man continued to speak through his smile as he kicked the loose bits of hay from her path.

The more it seemed he prattled on the more Lucy discovered. One thing she never quite understood was how many quirks an individual could have. So for the poor guy before her, she noticed that every time he put emphasis on a word his left eye would twitch. His thick bushy eyebrows seemed to have been doing their own thing, like two caterpillars facing off. And his nostrils also flared in unison with his words. It was so active that it reminded Lucy of a circus ring. How is he not tired, thought Lucy, I'm tired just trying to keep up with everything.

It was her turn to step out into the sun: her feet welcomed the dewy grass. It was Lucy's favorite part of the morning. Gliding over the blades of grass, the moisture soaked into her skin. The dirt added a layer of texture mixed with the contrast of the smooth green lawn. How can you not love it, thought the gentle creature. Jake broke her train of thought pressing his tree-limb-like arms into her side, Lucy humoring the human with a chuckle. "Come on Lucy." He huffed. The aroma did not take long to find her, she walked right up to a long board not inches from the floor. On top was a beautiful sight, corn husks, and an assortment of fruit and vegetable peels sprawled out. A feast for the long eared giants. Lucy disappeared among the crowd of elephants and humans.

Time to Lucy was a fickle species constantly evolving at every phase of her life. At first it was measured through light and dark. Journeying with the sun and hiding with the moon or at least that's how calf Lucy saw it. But then mankind entered her life and unexpectedly Lucy had to readjust to their idea of time i.e., day passing via increments of seconds, minutes, and finally hours. But no matter what point she was at in her life she could always depend on one thing: the moments of "now." After all, time is there no matter what one's opinion is and continues no matter the event or lack thereof. In Lucy's opinion the amount of time accomplishing the little things like eating did not matter. All she knew was how beautiful the morning glories were as they stirred from sleep. The sun just then reaching them spread across the earth - it was almost a dance of light waltzing across the open field. In the midst of her walk she completely forgot that she was not alone and found that through all of the commotion of breakfast she had wandered off leaving Jake. "Lucy!" she heard him cry. He stopped a full force run and collapsed to his knees. After all, what might be a step or two to an elephant is several to a human. "If Charlotte were here, she'd kill me," he said between breaths. "We need to take you back up Lucy, your bath."

The elephant begrudgingly turned back toward the buildings where she heard the drip, drip, dripping of the hose, and the water droplets pinging off the edges of the metal tubs. Then came the scrubbing, the sharp scraping of elephant skin. It tripled in frequency for the poor creature as she inched closer to it. It wasn't that it was a terrible experience but for Lucy it straddled the line between mundane and painful. But it was also necessary for her health and that she understood. Drip, drip, drip: spiteful sounds as if one drop wasn't enough. It landed with a soft thud upon the earth below the tubs. Jake came in seconds later, his dark tresses drenched in sweat and plastered against his brow. He gripped the handle of the brush, an ancient wooden surface with wire-bristles. If Lucy had to be honest with herself, it was more to do with the sound then the actual scrubbing. Like sandpaper it produced a horrible chafing-sound that struck the poor elephant. He dipped the brush in the water, that same drip-dripping from the bristles. He pressed it onto her rough and layered flesh, each bristle making contact with the elephant. But Lucy was struck by another sound - a foreign call - as faint as a whisper. Lucy found herself walking toward it. Her legs carried her without hesitation before she parted through the greenest foliage. "There you are little one. We're getting ready to leave."

1925:

It's 1925 for humans, but would that make any difference to the tiny elephant? No. "Okay mama," she replied. She walked through the rest of the brush to a clearing some feet ahead. In the sparse grass the other elephants gathered; the older ones chatting, the younger one pacing back and forth. But she felt so disconnected from both parties. Was it the elephant's way or Lucy's way? Could it not be both? Lucy asked herself. Afterall, who am I to assume that what I question in life is odd or out of place? Surely of all elephants Mother would know. She walked through the lush and vegetative field, the trees full with their bristle-like limbs bending out and in as if frozen in a pose. Is it an elephant's place to put their thoughts on other creatures? Should I presume to know the life of those trees? Am I confusing myself? Lucy couldn't shut off the questions and relentless curiosity, she wanted to know so much, but was it the elephant's way or Lucy's way? It rounded full-circle as Lucy found herself once again questioning whether she should question at all. Then, like a welcoming breeze she heard her Mother's voice, a calm and reassuring sound. And all at once the curiosity and questioning stopped as the calf looked to the direction of the voice. She trounced through the grassland, racing back toward a grove of baobabs, and all at once the sky disappeared behind the foliage. There was Mother draped in shadows listening intently to the other elephants of their group. She only paused long enough to lightly scold Lucy for walking off. What do they talk about? Lucy often wondered. She never stayed long enough to hear and was often encouraged to play. But she didn't want to play. The more she thought on it the more she realized that the only elephant she ever enjoyed the company of, was Mother. What does that say of me if I can't understand my own kind? She thought. Mother looked back over to her calf as if sensing the mini crisis her young was having. She excused herself and walked over to Lucy "What's wrong?" her tone, soft and soothing. Lucy was too ashamed to ask the many questions eating her up inside. Quickly looking away she searched for anything she could use with which to answer Mother. But mothers always know. "Little one, tell me, is everything alright?" She asked, her tone slightly hard. Finally after moments of quiet Lucy resigned to the truth, she took a deep breath and opening her mouth the words fell out. "Is it right to question my existence?" A fully-loaded question for any parent. "Oh!" Mother blurted out. But just as Lucy thought, Mother had an answer. "If you are wondering why you landed atop this wide open landscape, I want you to remember this: you are part of a perfect union and in being a part you have a duty to your kind. You are our lineage, our key to survival, we are better off because you came into our herd and into my life. You brought happiness, little one by simply being you. Is it okay to be curious about life? Of course, but just know you are perfect right now, in this moment, and for the rest of your life's moments." After receiving the best parent speech of the century, Lucy couldn't help but feel ashamed that she had to ask Mother in the first place. Best not express that, Lucy thought. Instead she smiled as Mother began stroking her brow with the softest touch. The moment was only jolted when a loud and boisterous "harrumph," came blasting through the quiet air. Lucy stepped up into the crowd all the while keeping her eyes away from the ancient heap of elephant, that glared down at her; that same scarred face and missing eye. The longer Lucy stared at it, the more the face fascinated her. How did it happen? Lucy thought. Was it a large beast with monstrous jaws and jagged teeth? Did it creep from the depths of the water? Lucy wouldn't dare ask her but it wouldn't be long before she didn't have to.

One evening as the sun slowly sank behind the far off hills, Lucy began to share with her adopted family the frightful interaction she and Mother had with the tiny wrinkled creatures whose arms crackled like thunder. "The air that passed over my head sounded heavy and angry. I could even feel its hot breath just at the tip of my right ear. And the tiny creatures never once flinched. They were indeed a funny looking group," explained Lucy. "They are a dangerous group," spouted the ancient one. "And you'll do good to steer clear." It was sudden when it happened but the friendly atmosphere became a toxic gas as every elephant halted their appetites. Only Lucy's mother was brave enough to make eye-contact. "What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes trained on the elder elephant. The sound of crunching continued again filling the silence as the old elephant replied. "They were men," she started. "And those weren't just their arms, they were holding guns. And had any of the "heavy air" touched you it would have hurt or even killed you." "Men?" Lucy followed. "That's a funny sound." The elder elephant stepped from her meal, her chest puffed, her stance prominent. It was almost as if she grew an extra size. "Make no mistake," she started, "they will kill you if they have their way. And if not kill you, at the very least they will make sure you never forget their faces." Lucy gazed up at the withered beast, her trunk taken into her chest. In such a state of awe and fright, she hardly realized her mouth was agape. Mother stepped back from the debris of dinner, her eyes fixed on the ancient mammoth. "What? You don't believe me?" She turned to Mother. "You think my eye just fell out one morning?" Her remaining eye ablaze, gleamed like hot coals. "There are dangers out in this world like men with guns, or hungry lions that will not think twice about taking and the sooner she learns that the better." Lucy never saw anyone raise their voice to Mother before. She could actually feel the air getting thicker, the silence deafening. Mother did not shrink as their eyes became locked in a battle of wills, all the while Lucy and the other spectators waiting for one or both to move. But that's the thing about elephants; their passion, their anger is magnified one hundred times over. They are as stubborn as they are large. Lucy could not handle the tension any longer and found herself stepping in between the two giants. Her legs slamming into one another with enough force to trip up the poor calf. "I...I am sorry," she stuttered. "I will...be...more careful." Never had words evaded the calf so much that she could not form a full sentence. And it wasn't even that she was scared as much as she was concerned. She felt the heavy presence of Mother over her shoulder and then a deep voice bellowing: "She's just a little one. She will learn just as we all did." After some moments, Mother was the first to step down, returning to her meal. Lucy watched her, carefully observing the transformation of a fierce and mighty beast she knew as Mother and she could not help but feel the slightest bit of pride.

2005:
Lucy felt the last bit of dry flesh become enveloped in moisture, the teeth of the brush piercing the dirt and dead skin. The irritating scraping of wire on elephant hide, the drips slower but prevalent, and Jake apologizing every moment he could. The pangs of age and injuries, her joints in need of a good spritz of oil came hurtling toward her within seconds of stirring. Where did I go? She thought quietly. Mother was right here, I can still feel the embrace of her trunk, her voice ever present in my ear. "Come along Lucy," Jake crooned to her sweetly. She looked up to find that only she and Jake remained by the metal tubs. And from the looks of things you would have thought a storm had hit- large masses of the soil churned up and the grass soaked. She climbed down the hill once more only now with the sun seated high above her earthy-kingdom, Lucy found her ivy-towers scorched. The plain sweeping beneath her long and glorious stride. The pride of the elephant.

Lucy parted ways from the other elephants as though they carried the plague, exchanging only what was absolutely necessary before changing course. A quick "good morning" and "pleasant day" and then it was off to her majestic mountain throne. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with being an elephant, it's just that for Lucy the only thing she ever felt she was, was human. She hated the way some elephants only saw humans as empty-minded killers. Never more than that, and to Lucy that was personal. So she'd recall the historic Conflicts of Mambosa in the northern parts of Africa between two herds. And it dawned on Lucy how each species seems to think they are better than the next. For Lucy, she saw more good than bad even though her worst memories were just as present as her good. Any other way of living would be a waste of time, she thought. She reached the crest of what might as well have been a mountain top, she felt unreached, untouchable gazing down on the plains. A sheen weaving through the blades of grass, a slight remnant of night only visible to the most sensitive eyes. But even on the most beautiful days, if you look deep enough there are moments of heartbreak. Moments that stay with elephants forever.

A breeze broke through her line of sight, the trees dipping and the leaves shaking. Lucy loved to catch the wind as it drove through the foliage around her. It was something she loved as a calf and something that still brought her joy late in life. I caught you, she thought. It was the sort of love she could only have as an elephant, humans having become so desensitized to their surroundings. She heard the leaves chatter in the distance, a loud crack and pop as another breeze rolled through. The trunks bent so you would have thought they were made of rubber and the limbs quivered. The cicadas screamed like banshees and the sparrows sang. Down the hill a younger elephant fiddled with a branch. She picked it up and dropped it, Lucy surmised, to study the effects of gravity. She dragged it a couple of feet and picked at the bark in a restless manner, but what she was truly thinking about, Lucy wouldn't dare assume. Instead she just simply watched, her dark eyes following the bough like a dog with a ball. She picked it up high, time and time again and amazingly it dropped to the earth every single time. What is she trying to discover? Some unseen rip in reality where gravity is more dense? And why am I so bothered by this? Remember, close your eyes, take a deep breath. I can smell fall nearby, the scent one degree lower can bring. A break in humidity for a moment. Lucy loved the smell of frost, how refreshing it was like a large gulp of cold water and the shiver it sent down her spine. She then began to hear a concerto of cicadas and the random few crickets out in the tall grass. The stick that continued to fall took on a different life echoing with each impact. Now, of course, elephants are known for their ears as they are like a second pair of eyes. So you could imagine how a world of endless noise might sound. To Lucy it was the sound of music, something Mother blessed her calf with not long into Lucy's life on earth. She could still remember fondly the day Mother shared the gift of song. After fighting with the other calf in the pack little Lucy was summoned away from the heated exchange. "Little one, come here." Lucy knew that tone, the universal 'now you're gonna get it,"' tone that breaks even the species barrier. It is no different for elephants as it is for humans. The calf walked her final steps to the guillotine all the while her eyes frozen to the earth below. She felt the sudden shift of shadow over her and knew she had arrived. "Little one," came a sweeter voice. It's a trap, don't fall for it, thought Lucy. But the kind voice prodded and in a last desperate plea, the calf reluctantly turned to face her judgement. "I want you to do me a favor," Mother spoke. She started to play with the little sprouts of hair that barely grew from the top of Lucy's head. "I want you to close your eyes." Mother finished. Lucy pulled away in surprise, "but if I close my eyes I can't see," she explained in a huff. Mother didn't flinch or bat an eye, she just looked on in silence before responding, "just do what I ask please." With a tiny snort and furrowed brow, Lucy closed her eyes. "Now, I want you to see." Mother said. "How can I see with my eyes closed?" Lucy interjected. "Whenever you feel powerless, or angry," Mother continued, "or even troubled, I want you to stop what you're doing and close your eyes. Breathe in deep Little One, smell the spices sprinkled over the earth. And listen. Do you hear the land, the grain bowing in the breeze? Do you feel it's vibrations? Do you hear the melody? Oh, and the chorus of hornbills in the brush harmonizing with the reed frogs?" Lucy listened but found only that of random chirps and water trickling. Sighing dramatically, the calf opened her eyes to a tropical oasis. I see things, Lucy thought. Mother could sense her distraught baby and soothed the little one, "don't worry, you will understand one day." "But now I'm agitated," spouted the babe. Mother smiled and with a pat replied, "but now you have an alternative to charging."

Unfortunately for Lucy she only learned this just in time.

1925:
The sky must be angry today, thought young Lucy, I've heard now at least three thunder strikes in a row. She felt a shift in the ground beneath her feet, a change in pattern. It felt like life was either racing or empty. What's going on? Her mother came thrashing out of the brush, frantic, and that scared the calf. "Come along little one," she said through a huff. Lucy had only ever seen her mother this worried once before. "They're back," she said panting. Lucy did not understand, who's back? She thought. But before she could speak her mother pushed her. "Come along little one." She said. "But what about...?" "Nevermind them, they're safe." Lucy followed her mother almost at a run, her little legs picking up the difference. There it is again, she thought, at the tail end of another boom. It pierced the sky shattering the mountains, Lucy could tell because she felt it in the earth. No time for that, she thought, I must keep up with Mother. Her heart was in a panic as she struggled behind the shadow of her mother. Just overhead she felt the air from a wing brush over her, even the birds are frantic. She tried to make sense of her running in her head and the panic of her surroundings. It was then that she recalled the wrinkly-creatures who held the power of thunder in their hands. They must be back, for it takes a lot to upset Mother. Just then mother took a sharp right behind a cluster of trees leaving Lucy the awkward struggle of braking. "Come little one," she spoke softly. The thunder further in the distance now. "We should be safe here." "What happened to the others?" Lucy asked. "Where are they?" Mother never took her eyes off a clearing up ahead, as if she expected to see the creatures busting through the foliage at top speed. "Mother," Lucy cried. "Be quiet little one," she snapped back, her trunk swinging past the calf. Lucy could feel the air from it. She turned and shuddered in the shadows. Who are you? She thought. Where's my mother?

"We are almost there, little one." Lucy's mother bellowed. She maintained distance ahead from the little creature. Lucy used all her force to muster enough strength through the countryside, her legs aching. "The water is just ahead." Mother said. Lucy could hear the energy in her voice as if she smiled while speaking. "Are you sure this is the right place?" the calf asked. "They said they would meet us at the water three nights toward the sun. And we are coming on our third night." Lucy only heard the excruciating hum in her mother's voice as if that was supposed to pique the small elephant's interest. The heat, sticky as a spider web, coated the calf. She felt it thicken as it spread along the surface of her flesh squeezing in-between the folds of her trunk. The sun was at its highest, such a small orb of light beating down on elephant kind and land. How does something so small have so much control over me? thought Lucy. She found herself in and out of reality, all while her legs trudged over the soft and rocky terrain and her mind floated off some other place. Lucy loved to visit places in her dreams. Places that the heat could not scourge and the flies could not pest. Places only Lucy knew of and in that light could choose who she wanted there with her. The land is empty, thought Lucy, but maybe I will dream up some sort of tree to nourish me. And I cannot forget water. So a lake and a tree. She waved her trunk about. There we go, she continued thinking; now a bed of flowers, plants, and tufts of grass as vast as the tufts of hair on my head. Lucy found herself smiling as she dove headfirst into her dreams. The land sinking beneath her feet before springing back to life; sending vibrations through the earth like a drop of water hitting the surface of a lake. There in her world she sat and watched as her breath became a breeze across the landscape. Only her actions and imprints stirring her surroundings.

2005:
Lucy blinked through the sunray particles of pollen and flies. With the right angle they resembled tiny orbs of light. She dug her feet further through the blades of grass each one a character to the gentle giant. It was then that she felt a shift beneath her. You see, elephants have an innate sense of awareness about them. As if they are an extension of the earth, the vibrations brought on by any pressure - whether big or small - elephants can read. Each one presents a unique pattern which for Lucy aided her in that moment to feel a familiar presence. In the distance the elephant spotted a small red dot. Charlotte, thought Lucy. She watched the red dot move throughout the field, stopping, some moments longer than others, with each elephant; stroking their noses and feeding them with what Lucy could only assume to be fruit peels. As the dot grew, a long face began to form and the elephant noticed the tiredness in her eyes. She hasn't been sleeping again, thought Lucy, poor thing.

"Hello baby girl." She said with a sudden perk. "Sorry I missed you this morning." Her pale lanky arms stretched toward Lucy, her long fingers reaching the elephant's nose with a soft rub. It always struck Lucy odd how many dots appeared on the young woman's arms, and yet when inside they vanished. Her face came nose to nose with the giant as she leaned her head onto the trunk. "Well, I can finally say that I have been on a date," Charlotte spoke. She dug her polished nails into the leathery-flesh of the elephant and like the claw of a back-scratcher began to sweep the front of Lucy's nose, who happily trumpeted with every stroke. "It didn't go well." Charlotte continued. "He forgot his wallet, so I picked up the check. Oh and did I forget to mention his family was there? Waiting in a large van in the parking lot sat his folks, aunt, cousin, and grandmother. Online dating is not my thing. But at least I have you girl." She gave Lucy a quick peck on the trunk before reaching into her pocket and producing a plump Gala apple. "Don't spoil your lunch," she chuckled before turning back down the hill. Lucy gripped the small orb of food and tossed it into her mouth. Now she was not one to simply take and forget, it was after all in her genes. First she let the apple's juice sit in the groove of her tongue, soaking up the sweetness. She could taste the soil that mothered the tree that produced the apple. She relished in the history of that apple and every other apple she ever had. Consuming not just an apple but one of extraordinary roots. At its birth she connected with it and now in its final moments and coming full circle she again found that connection. Comforting the aged elephant she swallowed the last bit of apple. You did well Charlotte, she thought. She remembered every apple she had ever delighted in, but especially the apples of her youth. And how in her lifetime they changed just as much as she did. Of course Lucy would never admit to placing one fruit above another, for they all held a place and purpose in her heart. But I would be remiss not to mention the marula trees. Dismissed by most as background scenery, it fascinated the elephant at an early age. She loved the marula trees and the fruits that hung from the high boughs overhead. Although bound to fall under a herd of hungry elephants, she especially loved them when in full bloom. The twigs with their chaotic twists always seemed to the calf as though they were reaching up. She would sit underneath one and follow along the branched-labyrinth of turns and splits. The old creature gazed on beneath the hot sun still tasting the apple, only to be caught off-guard by movement in the tall grass. It became frantic, perhaps a field mouse, thought Lucy. She started down the hill and watched in amazement as a tree sprung up from the golden plains. Like the domino-effect she fell back in fright as the tree busted through the earth. Pulling herself back up she stalked it like a lioness and her prey, studying the dark embossed bark. Even in my old age it still looks like elephant flesh. "Are you real?" She asked. She reached out half-expecting her trunk to pass right through it but instead it met with a hard surface. She looked up at the vein-like branches weaving through green leaves. The sunlight trickling in, to Lucy's amazement, shielding the harsher blares of heat. She trembled beneath her girth as she reached up to one of the branches and picked from it a piece of fruit. There it was, as clear as day, as solid as the apple, and no one else seemed to acknowledge its existence. She gazed into the puny orb of white flesh. How could something so sweet, so small, produce the worst feelings? She remembered the last time she held that fruit, clutching it tighter as the scene played across her mind. The terrible loud sounds from the sky and mother's frantic cries.

1925:

"Quick little one." Lucy opened her eyes to find her mother standing over her. The pillar of strength and everything Lucy longed to be looked down at her child. Not one to lose her mind in any ordinary circumstances, it struck Lucy odd the way her mother almost seemed to beg. She nudged the calf from sleep, waking her into a world of darkness. Lucy barely had time to conceive her current place before rushing at her mother's insistence. "What has happened?" she asked. Lucy struggled to pick up her legs as they weighed the poor elephant down having worked tirelessly the day prior to escape the angry storms. "It is time to rest now mother." She said. "No little one," interjected mother. "Before light catches up with us, we must make it to the lake." Lucy could hear the fierce and frightened tone in her mother's voice. "Yes mother." She replied. The trees were silhouettes across the plains in the distance while the mountain tops bathed in the moonlight. Of course to the calf they were nothing more than noise, having little to do with her and mother. But they sure were a sight to see.

Night had never been a friend of Lucy's as it brought up the creepiest creepers of the deepest depths of the earth slithering through the grass or tearing across the night's sky in a terrifying shriek. She heard the collection of night sounds all at once while keeping in her mother's shadow. First behind her, then beside her, yet there was never anything there when she went to investigate. "Keep up little one." Lucy heard her mother's voice, mostly carried off in the night wind. Focus Lucy, she thought, her legs running along like the wheel train of a clock. She kept this pace, progressing just enough to keep the hope that they would arrive soon.
It was almost sudden the way the light appeared, filling up the horizon with a stir of colors. A subtle change of yellows and reds to oranges and finally, purples. Even in her youth Lucy found a way to appreciate the miraculous birth of dawn as something she could not comprehend but respected just the same. How long they had been trekking across the vegetative-land Lucy couldn't say, but enough time had transpired for the sun to rise. And with the light came life, a new day to conquer. "We are nearly there, I know it," stated mother with a quick glance. The exhaustion never faded from her face nor that of Lucy's.

As day waged on, the sky flourished with light, all clouds having retreated. Lucy couldn't help but feel joy when gazing upon the endlessness of the open blue overhead. She saw possibilities, she saw potential among the swirly shades of blue. It was a thought she often had: what is up there? She pulled her eyes away just long enough to see that mother was still near her, before resuming her gaze into the wild atmosphere, the sun having stopped about half-way of her journey north. It's been a while now, Lucy thought, since the sky exploded. The little elephant would regret that thought for a long time. Because just as though that thought took form and shot into the sky, a deep and guttural blast answered; in contrast the backdrop of the beautiful blue sky - unwavering to the sudden sound. "Run little one!" cried mother. And all at once the ground beneath the calf began to dance and the leaves on the trees shivered. She could no longer hang onto her mother's vibrations as they were nearly drowned out by unseen forces. She lumbered through the lea and serene foliage until the blast was but a muted echo. Finally far enough to slow their pace and with a parting in the hills ahead mother guided Lucy to a well shaded spot of trees. "Rest, but only for a moment. I can see the clearing where the lake is to be," she said tussling with the flesh of a marula tree. "We must eat." She insisted. The boughs shook overhead as though reaching out in pain. "You will stay here little one. Promise me that," she said sternly. Lucy returned her gaze to the large creature, "Mother..." "No, little one. I will be right back." Lucy couldn't help the deep ache of concern in her chest but the exhausted babe had little momentum to fight the tired elephant. It was as though they were sleepwalking through conversation. The calf reluctantly said yes. She watched her mother walk back toward the way of the thunderous sounds, disappearing into the brush. She could feel every step her mother took, the hesitance in the manner of her walk, the short moments of stillness, and then the resumption of steps. Then there was nothing and it lasted longer than the others. This concerned the babe, as it would any child for their parent. Lucy took off running toward mother, her heart leaping into her throat. "Mother?" she called, but just as she neared the brush a blast rang out through the air. It jolted the sky and ran through the calf like lightning. Lucy knew something wasn't right. Some distance back from the marula tree, past the brush, and foliage; Lucy found herself staring death in the face. It took the form of two crazed-grinning creatures, smoke coming off of their hands. It might have scared her any other day, but she swept right past them, her eyes searching the surrounding plain, begging that they didn't fall on her mother's lifeless body. All of that was to no avail when in the tall grass a foreign blob of gray. That can't be mother, she thought, having never seen her like that. But upon closer investigation her worst nightmare was realized as she ran up to the large creature, a pool of blood collecting around her head. Her breath, a slow and long draw. "Mother!" Lucy cried. A guttural wail exited the wounded elephant as Lucy, placing her trunk beneath Mother's head, strained to lift it. "No little one," she said weakly. Lucy could hear the looseness in her breathing as she fought to stay conscious. Her mighty chest sinking in like water falling prey to an eddy. "Run!" Mother cried, her eyelids falling heavy as she staggered to her feet, "Run!" She repeated. In a fit of confusion the calf fell to the ground, dust kicking up beneath her. But somehow Lucy pulled herself together enough to flee into the foliage. Frantic, Lucy, froze as though the earth swallowed the lower half of her body. What do I do? Thought the frightened calf. She jerked in every direction but couldn't get her legs to move. In a panic of sweats as she heard the tiny creatures' whispers in the wind Lucy had all but given up when suddenly she remembered. Closing her eyes she breathed in deep. She could smell the spices Mother spoke of and pretty soon she no longer heard the creatures. Everything else became white noise as a low medley began to play. She heard a tympany of tiny feet and when she opened her eyes she found the forest whizzing by. At that moment the only thing she knew was that her legs were pumping as fast as they ever did. It would have taken a force of immense power to halt her in her run but what came instead crashed into the frightened elephant and sunk her heart. It clapped into the sky like thunder, a roar, a blast, and Lucy knew she could never go back. Their muddled voices carried excitement as they continued to talk. I have to keep going, thought Lucy, for Mother. She ran some time through the trees and brush, all the while waiting for the shriveled creatures to somehow catch her.

Are my eyes still closed? Lucy asked herself. She blinked a couple times struggling to get rid of the pitch black air around her. This is otherworldly; even the night carries the moon to light the way. But what would it light for the frightened calf? The orchard of trees she found refuge in when she could no longer withstand the strength of sleep? Her eyelids drawing to a close she fell heavy into the foliage. They must have found me lost in dreams of different yesterdays, she thought. Imagine their luck when coming upon the creature they were searching for; offered up like a sacrifice. But does that mean they killed me? It scared the poor calf. Lucy only knew of death from what mother had told her. And from what she learned, darkness was not mentioned once. Lucy took one step forward before coming to a halt that jolted the calf like a fearsome storm. Something prevented her from moving as she tried once more with her other leg. But as she did this a loud ringing sound trailed the movement as though a pile of shells was disturbed. It weighted down the elephant as she lifted up her leg again. She breathed in the damp air. Calm down little one, she said to herself, think of mother. Suddenly a flicker of light danced across the darkness. Lucy was more than certain it was not the sun as she was able to gaze directly into it; and it was too lively to be the moon. "Aye." She heard a shriek. "It's awake." The voice trailed off along with the light. If I have passed on, she began to ponder, where are mother and father? Where is the celebration and dance? Where is my family from lifetimes past? Another sound echoed in the distance and the dancing light reappeared. "Who is that?" she asked. "Who is there?" The light flickered in silence for some time when a low murmur began to build and suddenly a soft voice broke through the darkness as if the light was speaking directly to her. At this point Lucy would have been betting that anything was possible. The light was swooning side-to-side in some sort of mating dance neared the frightened calf. Meanwhile, she tugged once more at the invisible force that made its way around the gray and hairy ankle. Even taking off with a full burst of energy did little to help the poor calf. She pulled with every ounce of strength to break free, the rigid clanking growing into a sour cry. "Where am I?" she screamed out. "Easy girl." She heard a soft voice. It came from the light and as it moved closer a face began to form behind it. Lucy squinted through the sharp pang of fire, and saw that the face resembled the squatty creatures from home, only less wrinkled and smaller, with the slightest tufts of fur on its head like Lucy, and the beautiful color of tree-bark. Something in its eyes gave her pause as it extended its arm and lovingly stroked the calf. This one's arms are bare, she thought. "Please forgive us girl." Came that gentle voice again. Now if you're wondering how she is able to understand, it is known among the elephant world that elephants carry universal hearing, because elephants tend to hear the heart rather than the voice. Lucy felt a strange comfort in its presence as it continued to speak. "Right now you are sailing across the sea and you will be sold in America. I will do what I can for you in the meantime, but I cannot promise much."

Summer 2005:

Lucy could hear a subtle cry on the wind when she pulled her gaze away from the marula. Suddenly, she was old, her joints on fire as though someone held a torch to them. She felt weathered and cracked like an extra layer of flesh was beginning to succumb to outside forces. Even blinking seemed to be a trek of its own accord. But what one feels as an old person and what one feels as an old elephant can differ vastly. To Lucy it was exactly the way things were and that was life. She was just grateful to have been rescued and brought to the sanctuary.

"Lucy!" came that subtle cry again, only this time, louder and closer. Her eyes searched the green pasture currently bowing to a forceful breeze. "Lucy." It was less frantic now. The gentle giant followed the sound until she found herself face-to-face with Penny. Her tusks hacked down to the bone, her left eye missing, and her trunk covered in patches of new skin at one point. "Penny?" Lucy responded. Of course this name was given by the humans, because they would never understand her true elephant name. "We were wondering for how long you were going to be groping the air ?" She pointed. Lucy followed her trunk to a small herd of elephants bowing their heads in hysterical chuckles. Gossip. That's all they do, thought Lucy, spend their days deep in conversations about everything and everyone else but themselves. "Not that it's any of your business," Lucy briskly stated, "but I was remembering the marulas from back home." "Marulas?" she replied. "What on earth brought that up?" Lucy turned away from the orchestral output of chatter, no longer feeling patient enough to explain her eccentricities. "Look you never talk to us and you avoid us like the trope." For everyone out there, who is not an elephant, the trope was the elephant's plague. Hundreds of years ago it killed off a great many elephants and is regarded akin to poaching. Told from generation to generation it is only known among the elephant population. "All I'm saying," continued Penny, "is that we have consistently tried to gain your respect, giving you more than enough space, and all to no avail. Because you are better than the rest of us?" Lucy could hear the friendliness fade from her voice and anger take its place. She turned to find Penny's dull and wrinkled flesh collecting a rouge tint, "I am not better," she replied, "just different." "Pen," interjected a voice from the peanut gallery, "leave 'er alone." Lucy turned to the herd of shocked faces, their mouths agape, eyes wide, and tails at salute. They crowded around the angry elephant in droves as though to halt an angry action that never came. Even so, it was enough to spark the interest of every mammal in a one hundred foot radius. But Lucy couldn't let things like that bother her. As heartless as that might seem, she had her reasons, one being that if she looked back at all the little squabbles in the vastness of life she would miss what was right in front of her. To Lucy, we are living life right now: right this moment, every minute detail, every intricate feature is perfectly assembled to live a full life. And she was not about to waste it.

"Lucy sweetie," crooned a soft and sweet voice. Lucy fought through the crusted gunk of skin cells, dust, and mucus that had been collecting across her eyes for the past few hours. With a strength that would put Thor to shame she ripped through it to lay her large eyes upon an empty world. Where is everyone? She thought to herself. What time is it? She looked up into a fierce and blazing red sun collecting large cumulus clouds to its bosom. The leas of summer grass devoid of life, no large trampling elephant feet. Not even vibrations from unseen creatures. But what of that voice? Someone did call me. She stepped back and found the tiny red stature of Charlotte smiling up at her. "Are you alright?" She asked. She studied Lucy's arms and pulled on her trunk, green eyes gliding across the mass of flesh that was Lucy. She stopped every so often to look closer and continued on. "Well, you don't look hurt," she spoke. Just then an older woman came waddling through the grass, her brown cargo shorts inflating when it caught a breeze. A plumped and merry woman, she waved to both Lucy and Charlotte. Her blouse was loosely tucked and printed with what Lucy could see as being velcro-like patches of elephants. And she wore the largest sun-hat over a batch of silver curls. "Lydia," smiled Charlotte. Lucy didn't know Lydia as well as Charlotte though she understood how much she owed her life to the woman. "When I heard there was an attack, I hopped into the car," she said. "Well, we're not sure it was an attack," Charlotte explained. "I was told that Penny got snippy with Lucy and charged her but was stopped by the other elephants." Lucy's eyes dodged from human to human as they spoke on: "Lucy appears to be fine with not a single scratch on her," Lydia loudly exhaled in response. "Thank God for that. I was so certain that something terrible had happened." She wiped her brow with a white cotton bandana mopping up heaps of sweat and within seconds the cloth was soaked. "Well let's get her some water in the very least." With that Lucy was led down her hill and toward the large buildings. Penny is so fickle, she thought, acting out in such a way. I hardly recognized her. She kept the two women in her sight as they walked some feet ahead of her. She could hear their tones rising and falling amid bursts of laughter. And an occasional look back from a smiling Charlotte. I personally have no qualms with elephants, Lucy continued thinking. I find that we as a unified species can be overlooked by humans as nothing more than entertainment or a burden. But something draws me to them with such fierce force that I believe I took the wrong form in this world. I was supposed to be a female human, I know it. She shuddered amid the choir of summer insects and low chatter, the cicadas, a staple of dusk, and before she knew it the large building was only feet away. Charlotte finished her conversation and turned back toward her giant friend. The elephant looked down at the small red woman, and as though sharing their very own conversation, Lucy nodded to Charlotte before heading over to a large concrete trough. The lukewarm water slipped with ease up the giant's trunk as she inhaled a long sip. Then just as easily as it went in, it came gushing out and down Lucy's gullet. It would be silly of me to claim what relationship elephants have to water, so I won't even surmise her thoughts at that moment. She went in with her trunk again, as Charlotte stood downwind, and gulped a second elephant-sized sip. She then turned away from the gray dull surface and planting her eyes upon the green, started back toward her hill. Charlotte heard the commotion, as elephants tend to have heavy steps, and running up to the ancient giant said, "I'm so happy that you are okay. When I heard that Lenny charged you I was scared." Lucy stopped dead to let her friend catch up before continuing on. The grass kicked up beneath Charlotte's worn boots as she heaved them through the air before planting each foot back into the field, all the while letting Lucy gain some space between the two. She watched the elephant walk, almost stalking with her deep concentration. "You don't seem harmed in the slightest," she announced to Lucy who could hear the relief in her voice. Just then, as though riding the wind inside the large concrete walls, came a long and trailing scream. It was a nuisance that only came once a week but when it did it chilled Lucy to the very bone. And why it needed to announce its presence each time it came charging past the sanctuary was a mystery. Ugh the train, she thought. Is it time already? Her knee buckled as she viciously ground her teeth almost bashing her jaw in the process. The scream finally stopped leaving only the rush of wheels against train tracks. A sound similar to rushing water frantic and quickly paced until it was but a distant echo. Lucy loathed the mechanical caterpillar more than the men who ran them. She could still feel the sharpness of the wind as the smoking heap of metal picked up speed. The stifling atmosphere of the hot and humid car. Almost as bad as her journey across the sea. How could something so advanced and helpful be so repressive?

Late summer 1925:

After some time in the dark Lucy became accustomed to the shift and sway of the room. She could hear the wood buckle from pressure as the walls and floor shook. An angry sea. What's more is that she learned about the wrinkly creatures. She came to know that the tiny creature, who would visit her often, was a calf much like Lucy - not even thirteen years on the earth. She also picked up on the genders and that he was called a boy and his elders called him Abel. He'd bring her fruits or scraps and a container full of rain-water. He'd scratch her nose and sing her lullabies he heard as a baby. He was so different from the others that she felt a kinship with the boy. But it seemed that just when she found comfort in the dark with Abel, her world changed. It happened one morning when the ship finally docked off of Lake Charles of Louisiana; a bustling town with peculiar sights, sounds, and smells. In that moment when Lucy stepped out of the darkness all she could sense was the angry sunlight striking her defenseless eyes. She was being beckoned through the burning glow all the while the ground, changing beneath her. That dark chilled splintering that she became accustomed to turned into boiling hot stones and that soothing voice that would sing to her was cut abruptly short. She blinked through the pangs of fire as the world before her began to appear through a thick haze. Where is Abel? She thought. She frantically searched the busy scene before her, so many wrinkly creatures, but no Abel. She called out and in doing so grabbed the attention of the surrounding spectators. A brisk and rude tug from her neck and she was pulled toward one creature in particular.

"Samuel Bowers?" the man leading Lucy asked. They stopped in front of the most disheveled - looking creature Lucy had ever seen almost making the elephant take pity. He smiled, his top teeth gnawing his bottom lip. The lines of his face appeared all at once as though coming out of hiding. He had a rather large scar across his right eye much like the scary old one from home. And if that weren't enough Lucy could see a discoloration in his right eye, a glazed-over pupil that did not move. His burned fingertips pressed into the calf's flesh. He drooled a little all the while muttering softly to himself. Lucy could smell a stale musk of cigar with the slight bitter fragrance of alcohol. He leaned in toward her with a large grin bearing a row of corn-yellow teeth. His breath was not of this earth or perhaps once was but had long left. "Yeah, I'll take her," he snarled, his one eye gleaming. The squatty and mostly hairless man aside from a patch of fur on his chin, pulled his hat from the mound of smooth surface that was his head. Bowing he grumbled, "thank you gentlemen. Place her in the car." Lucy cringed at the sound of his raspy-voice, as irritating as a dozen flies, she thought. They pulled her off of the boiling stone street in quite the huff, the baby elephant fighting all the while to free herself. It wasn't until she felt a sudden jolt, like hot coals being hurled against her skin, that she felt utterly hopeless. It left a lasting pang in her back-side aching the more she walked. The sound was some unearthly shattering of cries that attacked her ears with venom. All of a sudden a strange smell began to spread through the air. At that point Lucy didn't care where she was going, just so long as it didn't include that pain again. They led her through a forest of large soulless structures bigger than Lucy herself. With every step there was one of those funny looking men, some thinner or shaplier then others. Their voices ranged from low to high and their heights from small to tall. They yelled out with nervous energy clasping shiny jewelry, hardbound books, and polished silverware, among other items.. Lucy noticed quickly that the ones draped in the flowy skin that resembled the silk in a butterfly's wing would make more eye contact with her then the others. The longer they walked the softer and denser the environment became until the land of hard textures blossomed right before the calf's eyes. Just in the distance Lucy made out what might have been some subspecies of snake. It hissed and spat white mist into the air. Its skin buckled over and rattled. No doubt a final attempt from her latest meal. But it wasn't necessarily the snake that struck Lucy with fascination when it suddenly dawned on her just how familiar the land was before her. The grass and foliage of home had followed her. Or perhaps she never left. "Mother!" She cried out. She pulled loose from the tethers of man planting her feet onto the soft terrain. "Mother, I'm home." She called. Her legs weighed heavy as she found her footing through the thicket. When she finally picked up speed she met the ground with little mercy, her leg sinking into a hole, her face greeting the grass with vigor. The pain was immediate. It hovered in her leg and just like that she was right back in their arms. They tightened their restraints around her neck once again and led her to the giant snake. "Git in thar ya' bastard," the man cried. She felt his hands press into her rear. He too, looked just like the other cigar man: it must be their species, thought Lucy. The further they pushed her the more the ground seemed to raise until her head was engulfed in darkness. She could barely see or fit for that matter as she tried to look through the pitch black land. It would unfortunately be the first of many train cars for her. "Watch it!" came a shrill voice breaking her train of thought. "Oh, s-s-s-orry," Lucy stuttered. This is it, I'm going to die, thought the young creature. With every subtle move or gesture she was met with protest from some flailing object or cry of pain. "Look out, here comes another," cried a voice in the dark. "Shove over. This one's small at least." A sudden shift in the ground and some unseen loud click frightened the poor babe. The snake bellowed the strangest sound Lucy had ever heard before as the whole room began to shake. Lucy could feel herself losing her footing and plummeting to the floor. "Whoop," her head met the cushion of another trunk as she felt herself floating upward. "Be careful." The voice said. It was another me, thought Lucy, or mother. "T-t-hank you," she replied. "May I ask, where am I?" "You are currently traveling at about a low speed along the track heading north," the same calm voice answered. "Track?" Lucy asked. "Yes, a train track to be exact, no doubt to serve in place of June." The way the elephant spoke he might as well have been speaking another language as the calf struggled to make sense of his words. "I don't understand?" Silence followed for moments before he said: "June was the previous elephant before being sold off. She too was small and used in one of the balancing acts. But might I ask where you hail from?" "The desert where my mother and I live. But it feels so long ago now and I haven't an idea where I am." "Did you arrive here via a boat?" he asked. Lucy didn't understand as the hopelessness of her situation submerged her deeper in despair. "What's a boat?" She asked, close to tears. He did not answer right away, no doubt coming to terms of having to break the news. "You poor dear," he said. "Well first off, you are currently in what's called by humans a train. It is a metal contraption that makes travel easy. It is owned by one Samuel Bowers of Bowers' Feats and Treats, a traveling show. We are the show. You do not originate from this land do you?" he finished. Lucy's mind whirled in a suspension of darkness, she felt herself losing her grip as she plummeted once again for what felt like a lifetime, finally landing on the cold hard ground.

"Give her a moment." Lucy heard among a swirling run of colors. Slow at first they began to come together until a scene developed before her eyes. What on earth? She thought amid the elongated faces towering over her. "Was it a dream?" she asked the silent and bewildered faces. "What?" answered one. "What was a dream?" responded another. Then came the voice she was longing to hear. The deep and soothing hum of comfort, "It's alright now little one," he spoke. Lucy could feel the floor disappear beneath her and the world around her return to its proper angle as the elephants placed the small creature back on earth. "You fell," he cooed almost like a lullaby comforting Lucy. "Where am I?" she asked. Lucy gazed around at the odd textured world that enveloped her. The cushioned ground meeting with no resistance in some ways reminding her of the sands back home. Its color, an ugly muted hue Lucy had never seen before, matched the air and skies. "What is this? Where is mother?" Her voice so shrill it surprised her. A larger elephant, his face long and tired, his eyelids drooped almost to a close, stepped forward. Lucy hesitated in greeting him taking a step back. "It's alright." he softly spoke. I know that voice. It's amazing what being right-side up can do. Lucy could see a sincerity in his eyes, a humane-way about him. "Do I know you?" she asked. The elephant's demeanor suddenly gave, as though some unseen force of electricity took hold and drained him of life. "I do not think so little one." he sadly responded. A rise in chatter surrounding the other elephants knocked the calf mid-thought and she could suddenly hear a "hum" circulating through their voices as one. Forgetting where she was for a moment, she said, "That's funny." But upon seeing their dazed expressions she quickly changed the subject. "Where am I? How did I get here? Where's mother?" They exchanged glances with one another before one stepped forward. "You are with us in a tent in Fairfax, Virginia." she said. Nothing made sense to Lucy. "When was the last time you recall seeing your mother?" came that crooning deep voice. "Mother had been struck down by the storm. You see, these men who had control of the sky, brought the loudest storm that shattered the earth beneath our feet. All they had to do was raise their metal arms. Mother was struck and fell. She yelled at me to run and so I did. I must find her and help her." Silence was an eager stranger among the herd of elephants as Lucy waited for any type of response. "For the love of Mary," wafted through the room in the back, though who it came from Lucy could not see. "What?" the calf replied. "These men with metal arms, did they bring you here?" asked the droopy-eyed crooner. She recalled, "Yes, yes in fact they did." Come to think of it, thought Lucy. There are few words one can use when expressing the deepest of grief. As though a part of you simply cannot process certain orders of words. For Lucy that included the conclusion of her mother's fate. He tried to explain the nature of life and how we all revolve and evolve. How time can be a friend and with it the pain only lessens. But for a child to lose her life-line, as a mother often is, she could not see herself ever finding happiness again.

Late Summer 2005: How an elephant named Lucy sees a storm:
Lucy gazed fearless off into the angry gray sky. The clouds bulking up and darkening by the second. They didn't scare her anymore. She welcomed the change of cooling rain amid the southern summer heat. The light bouncing from cloud to cloud like a pinball machine finally flashed on the horizon. That extra light among the swirling mix of sunset colors was quite the display. And the thunder, well Lucy could feel it long before that shattering explosion so it no longer frightened her. Storms which Lucy thought for so long were products of men with guns were no more their fault than Lucy's. She made her peace with the beast in the sky.

At the tops of the trees in the distance Lucy watched the rain begin to fall. She watched it migrate until it was just over the sanctuary's stone wall. Tiny rain droplets glowing in a ray of light that broke through the armory of clouds. Each drop hitting the earth reverberated back to Lucy. She saw the panic as everyone scurried to hide from the rain as though it was poison. People trying to avoid getting wet, thought Lucy, they have the opportunity to bathe in the most natural source of water. They can drink it up from the lakes and ponds anytime they'd like. But instead they flee. The rain slowed to build before finally reaching Lucy; one drop, then two, she counted them. They stretched down the side of her face, rolling over the leather-like flesh in mad-pursuit. "Lucy!" shrieked a voice. Lucy turned to find Charlotte frantically waving her arms. "We gotta go." She said. "There's a tornado watch." Lucy pushed through her natural reflex of soaking up the rain and followed Charlotte down the hill instead. It wasn't out of character for a wayward tornado to find its way near the sanctuary. Especially around late summer. Lucy picked up her feet stomping through the moisture of the grass. Watching not to overstep Charlotte she kept her distance. For occasions such as these there was an underground shelter just large enough for the elephants. It actually sheltered more at one time but Lucy was one of the only ones left of the old group. She entered the dark bunker behind the others in an orderly fashion waiting her turn to feel the damp atmosphere. She was after all not in any hurry to be locked up. That immediate scent of fresh rain and mildew settled back into her senses. It was an old friend that had made home before. The lightbulbs overhead ignited in spastic manner until finally deciding to keep their presence. Listen to that hum, she thought. It took the loud and screeching steel doors to break her from her current thoughts (no pun intended). Here I am again, barriers in every direction. Luckily, tornadoes tended to miss the sanctuary but just not this time. The lights flickered sporadically as though conducting an overture; first the string section, then the brass, can't forget that french horn, and finally the woodwinds. What a beautiful solo from the violin. The doors rattled violently as the wind picked up in vast amounts. It sounded familiar to Lucy. I know, she thought, it sounds just like the car doors on the train. That loud and jarring sound of bashing steel. No wait it is the train, she thought, her eyes striking wide as she gazed about, the lights dimming ever so soft until only one section of light remained. She turned toward it and saw the bright streaks of sunshine shimmer through the bars. "That door wasn't there before," she said. She peered into the sunlight, her eyes falling on a beautiful and clear day, the valleys and hills whizzing by. When Lucy looked back she found herself to be all alone. "Where is everyone?" She called. "And where am I?"

1927:

Some time had passed since first arriving to the foreign land and Lucy had learned so much, including learning that the humans had "named" her as part of the traveling show. Of all names they picked, "Lucy." She absolutely despised it. After all, her name wasn't Lucy, it was . . . well, something you couldn't put down in words. She also learned the history of her world and that where she stood, many had fallen. One night while traveling through the darkest of nights Lucy learned of one story in particular from an elder called Eunice: "They called her Mary," she explained, "I was with her up until her death, a long and excruciating event. It was a tiring day and the men had been overtly using the cattle-prod. They burned our skin so much that that's all I smelled, burnt hair and flesh. Mary was ahead in the line when he pressed it to her leg one more time. I couldn't possibly blame her for reacting and she was fed up with the cruelty so she turned and knocked the man on his back. This is where I would have stopped." Her eyes swelled and her voice lost its composure. "But in a fit of anger she stepped on his head, it popped without any resistance. Rather than give her a trial she was automatically sentenced to death. They took her out and shot her several times and when that did not work, they took her one town over to a place called Erwin in Tennessee where after two cranes and several excruciating hours later she hung by the neck until dead." Lucy shuffled through the darkened car, "Why tell me this?" she asked. "To warn you not to overstep your boundary, these men are an extra shade of cruel meaning they will find any excuse to bring you down." Don't tell her that," interjected a high pitched voice, "Not every man here is senseless and cruel. Take Malcolm for example, he only uses the prod when absolutely necessary." "And that's your argument?" returned Eunice. The two began to bicker back and forth leading to an uprise in voices but all Lucy could do was think about Mary and how scared her last moments had to have been on earth.

The following morning found Lucy maneuvering her nose through the rusty bars - the metal chafing as she stretched her trunk. She caught the tail-end of the rarest of specimens of the summer - a breeze. For a moment she was free. She could feel the air on her skin. She could smell the spices that have long related the senses to summer. "You're wasting your time." A harsh voice came from behind the calf, a lonely echo floating through the dark car. Lucy waited for a moment of silence to respond, "And why am I wasting my time?" "If you think you will ever be free again, you're wasting your time." The shrill voice continued. "They will kill us before they let us go free." Lucy could feel the depression as thick and choking as a blanket. It spread fast throughout the cars like a virus, anyone in its path was doomed. But Lucy kept her eyes ahead through the small barred window, the sun setting over the hills as the train drove past the rustic country side. It was the most beautiful thing Lucy had ever seen. The train had a sort of hypnotic pull as it trudged along the tracks. The world was whizzing past the young elephant in a blob of trees, structures, and hills. It all souped up into a greenish blur of finite textures. A spine-curdling screech developed along the tracks. Lucy felt the layers in the sound, the sparks of friction as the brakes squeezed the wheels. Until it finally came to an end and the car lunged the elephants forward. "We're done for," came a cry in the dark. "No we're not, we're here you imbecile." It was that same negative nasty voice. When the door opened and a light flooded in, silhouettes came charging in shouting and pulling on Lucy's trunk. At least one man was in charge at the car door with a cattle prod. They pulled the elephants out in a line one right after the other. The summer heat baked the gravel when Lucy reached the earth. She felt the immediate chill of metal as the fetters latched about her ankles and a makeshift-cuff closed on her neck. The large chain a frequent visitor to the calf as it dangled heavily to the sides. What city they were in, Lucy did not know: they all began to blend into one another after a while. The group of clowns, acrobats, bearded lady, world's fattest man, and elephants to name a few dressed the road in odd and colorful arrangement. The sweltering sun unforgiving on the somber brigade. Finally they reached the townsfolk, decked-out shops, and businesses. And just beyond that a beautiful view of the ocean right off the docks. Lucy could just hear the tide brushing over the sand and the waves mercilessly crashing into the shore. The seagulls hovered near the coast no doubt waiting for the scraps. Red and white tarps were set up just like a flag on a ship getting ready to set sail - the massive structures buckling under any amount of weight as Lucy looked for her moment of escape. Soon, night would fall upon the quiet town and not long after that the show would begin. First of three nights full of humor, excitement, and fun family time as promised per the ad. Lucy stepped into the poor excuse of a showman's tent, the moldy scent of its surface permeating the air. The many nights she balanced in the hot lighting of that monstrosity scrambling to keep from touching the floor. Her legs surfing across the large sphere as it rolled along the floor. Every town a different sphere or ball. Samuel Bowers being too cheap to buy a ball, scrounged up what he could in every town they traveled to. Then tossed it at the poor confused calf, leaving her alone to the merciless object. "Whoa...whoop," often spewing from her mouth as she'd lose her footing. Easy now, she crooned softly, breathe. Suddenly she found her feet scooting back up to the top all the while the heat weighing down on her head and back.

The chaos of show night when life would rather come to a stop, that's when Samuel Bowers' Feats and Treats blossomed brightest. Both sexes and some straddling the line dressed in large frilly and festive skin, as the calf would see it. Some prancing about outside the tent, one could even conjure up fire from his mouth. All night Lucy and the others stood amid the restless sea of performers drowning in the brightest colors and smiles. It was torture for poor Lucy, she hated the chains and being locked up. But she especially hated show nights when she would be forced to perform before a loud and drunk crowd of observers. Some of them yelling at the calf, the worst sounds and smells exiting their mouths. Children throwing rocks in an attempt to knock the poor calf off of her sphere. Crazed laughter, and loud obnoxious "honks" from the clowns. It was a shmorgishborg of nightmares.

2005:
"I think it's safe," came a voice. Lucy opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by darkness, the lights having gone out during the storm. It was not long after that, that she heard the shrill sound of metal chafing metal and a loud screech as the two large doors opened up. Light flooded the floor and those closest to the doors. "Careful ... there are some branches over there." Lucy began shifting along the cement floor, her trunk grasping at the empty air. Where's Charlotte? She thought. Just up ahead in the doorway, Lucy watched as shadowy figures stepped out into an apocalyptic landscape. Debris off the buildings was scattered throughout Lucy's green kingdom - the soil ripped and the tree roots exposed, poking up from the earth. What were they thinking, thought Lucy, when the sky shattered like glass and the piercing raindrops fell? It was not just a rain storm, it was the sky falling to pieces and splitting the land open.

The damp air rested in the evening hours as the heavy humidity all but vanished from existence. Lucy found herself back atop her hill smiling into a sweet breeze of honeysuckle, the flowering dogwoods shivering in response. So many moments of gazing from her hilltop watching the sun rise and set, Lucy would never have admitted it but she was tired or, more pointedly, exhausted. She had had her fill but for whatever reason she woke up day after day. This was a feeling known to most species, depression: elephants got it, dogs got it, and humans as well. Lucy stepped back on her dale, her eyes slowly lowering, her brow twisted up in a mess. It was a long and torturous sorrow that ravaged her. A severe longing for happiness, not that she'd ever admit it. But everyone and everything has moments of sadness and there is no shame in that. That's right, Lucy thought, no shame in being completely you. She peeked up from her slump taking advantage of a dissipating cloud where the sun flourished through the haze. Perhaps I am just tired, she thought. After all, today was quite exciting. She looked out into the distance through a strange shimmer of evening colors. How strange to think that this beautiful scene painted just for me, used to be my least favorite part of the day. The heightened squeals of children only slightly lost amid the shouts of showmen drawing in raunchy crowds of drunks. Lucy standing amid the other elephants somewhat protected by a wall of elephant-hide, impenetrable when the creatures unite.

A voice came over the rowdy crowd in the dim setting of the tent. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, if I might have your attention, for the show is about to begin." A bright light reached a forlorn figure, his face painted up in a flashy yet somehow creepy manner. He didn't even have to smile as there was already a smile painted on. His usual bald head was cloaked in a rather sad looking hat but still beneath all of that Lucy could spot a row of rotten yellow teeth. "You will be amazed as you gaze upon the Sanderson Twins with their hops and their spins, jumping high on trapeze. If you'd do so, please look up, look up!" As if controlling the sun, the light traveled over to two tiny figures posed high off the ground. In matching baggy pants - as though they'd stitched together every rag and cloth they'd found - a pair of suspenders, and black blouses; the two tiny figures began to shake the line. Then when one hopped into the air the other hurled her small frame back and as though they were floating they flew with grandeur and poise before landing simultaneously back onto the wire. Tiptoeing their dainty feet along the line without hesitation, their painted faces never wavered from their stone-cold gaze; their short black tresses bouncing lightly with each leap. Lucy couldn't help but gawk, her pupils in a tireless dance with the twins. If they were birds they would fly, she thought. So entranced by them she didn't even hear the cries escaping the booze-soaked mouth of one of the bald men. He broke through the small crowd of jugglers that was forming beside Lucy and with a brisk tug pulled the calf out of her trance. His dark eyes gleaming beneath a layer of blue paint, his top lip snarled as he mumbled under his breath. Lucy felt his strength as the cuff and fetters pulled to the right. If the poor calf did not cooperate the taser would come out. She reluctantly left the comfort of her fellow elephants traveling off into the distant darkness.

"From the barren plains of Africa, we plucked our latest star. Frightened and alone for she had wandered out so far. Scrounging for a nibble, dying for a sip, we fought the hordes of wildlife to keep the little pip. She grabbed me by the heart and is like a child to me. So please welcome the balancing pachyderm Lucy."

The bitter painted man rolled what almost resembled a deflated ball, but it wasn't, it was an egregious excuse for a ball. The calf placed one leg up on it rolling it slightly beneath her. Her heart racing as she walked three-legged out into the center of the tent, Lucy strained to focus through the heavy bright light. Breathe, she crooned assuredly and stepped up until she was completely off the floor. "How am I supposed to roll on this?" she thought. Lucy pushed to one side and then to the other until she discovered a sort of rhythm amid the grooves. Like the sway of the ship, her thoughts continued, but oh how I miss Abel. Now all that's left is to sell the act. Perhaps I will do the one leg in the air feat. Bracing all her strength on her left back leg she lifted her right into the air. Her body shaking like a volcano mid-eruption but Lucy remained focused; the worst thing she could do was read into her negative thoughts. She lowered her right leg before stepping off the now useless piece of trash. What happened next was the best and worst thing to happen in the young calf's life and it came in the form of a sound. Reverberating off the walls of the tarp and resembling a rain storm. Lucy searched the darkness for the source but found that it came from every seat of the spectators. Their hands smashing into the other as an obnoxious "clapping" sound exited their closed fingers. Applause. Lucy never heard that before, not even when Mr. Samuel Bowers himself came out into the center ring to introduce each act. It was the best thing, because for the first time in her life Lucy felt proud. It was the worst thing because of what happened next.