Note taking

"Tutu, there's a bird following us," Kikepa pointed with her mug to the streak of wings.

"She's the Anna. She's the one who can't wait to meet you."

"She's the one who told you about what's the word?"

Sophie was forgetting. "Help me Kepa, what word?" It was these times --when the not long ago would slip from her web of knowing-- that startled the old woman. Soften your stance. Sophie felt herself gentle up her feet which, out of habit, were pounding against her heels.  The foot is designed to stand more in the middle and forefront rather than on the heel which should have an action rather like a bouncing rubber ball when you walk. In her advancing years the woman with a name that meant "native fern" was relearning to stand on her feet. The voice of her teacher pulled her brain to her feet. Having mo'opuna, two grand children, helped with this new medicine. It shortened the distance and resistance. The weight of tension came with an exhalation. 

The girl was patient and had good short-term memory. She said, "When I woke up you were talking to someone. You said, I didn't know that." This was helping. 

"Oh yes. Yes, the Anna's Hummingbird was telling me tears lubricate the heart."

"Yup, that's the word. Lu ba cate. Like the ocean. The word that sounds like the ocean." 

"'Ohu you are exactly, I mean exactly right on the kini popo." The two little women did a silly shimmy and a hip bump. "Lubricate is like the ocean, it makes things slippery, puts you in the wave."

"Like surfing!" 

"Yes Sweetie Pie lubricate is just like surfing." 

The morning was young, but the light had shifted from the mute of greens that sat at the edge of gray. The Song Sparrow was in full throat. The old woman and the young girl scanned for signs of the mischief The Old Man and Kikepa were bound to. "Honey," Sophie called in that inimitable song of hers. Kikepa echoed, "Honey Man, 'Ohu come out come out your cocoa is getting cold." The pair were not in the usual places: the chickens were busy pecking at feed in the stainless steel bowls, the eggs already gathered and blended into the pancake batter. 

Kikepa spotted the large flapping paper dangling from the fence. They had left a clue.

"We have taken the bike to the --- " instead of a word, blue crayon drew waves. 

"They're at the beach!" It was too far to walk, and there was only one bike (which was no longer parked in the shed.)

"Let's go keiki girl. Climb in the truck, I'll be back with the keys."

At this rate, the pancakes were going to be brunch, or lunch, but like I said there was no rush to the creation of this breakfast and besides who was keeping track of the time anyway? Kikepa climbed into  one of the car seats in the old King Cab. Sophie found her keys, pulled a sweatshirt on, and found one for the child. 

The Anna was taking very careful notes. It was what she was good at. For a creature no larger than an old woman's palm, hummingbirds not only had a capacity for noticing, they were also extremely good at remembering. The word 'that sounded like the ocean' was specific, but lubricate was like surfing. Words were slippery, The Anna puzzled at human's attachment to them, and laughed at how one could substitute for another.

Sophie heard buzz of the Anna's wings though she couldn't see her, put the invitation out in thought "You're welcome to come along." 


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