The Forest
Summer 1921
For decades, seasons have come and gone, but the love between Ifunayla and Eadrick lingers like the initials carved into my oldest tree.
Standing with his friends, Eadrick’s eyes found Ifunayla. They brightened, a response I had witnessed often. His friends, however, did not share his affection. “What is the negroe doing here?” One sneers, spitting the words like venom.
Her face tightened; eyes glistening with tears she would not let fall. She turned and fled, swift and graceful. Eadrick rounded on his friends. “Her name is Ifunayla. She is my friend.” He then broke away, calling out, “Ifunayla, wait!” She had already disappeared into the woods.
He found her by my waterfall, a sanctuary for their shared moments and whispered secrets. She sat on a rock, shoulders slumped, lost in the water’s cascade. He moved closer, cautiously. “Ifunayla, I did not—”
“You do not need to explain.” She stood up to face him. “I know what your world thinks of me.”
“They are wrong. They had no right.” His voice was filled with regret, and anger.
Her eyes clouded over, a cocktail of hurt and understanding. “Why do you care? We are from different worlds.”
His hands cupped her face gently. “Because my world is not complete without you.” His eyes met hers.
I felt her shiver, a vibration that echoed through my leaves. “You make it hard to stay away.” She leaned into his touch at last.
“It is hard for me too.” He pulled her into a kiss that seemed to defy the worlds that tried to keep them apart.
As their lips met, my waterfall seemed to roar louder, as if in applause for the audacity of their love. It was a spark that felt like it could ignite me, and for a moment, it did. My leaves felt brighter, my roots more anchored, as if their love breathed life into me.
Though worlds apart, and despite society’s harsh rules, here, beside my waterfall, they were simply two souls in love. And that is a story I would always nurture.