Proper conditions

Larkin watched from the window as she finished washing and rinsing the tea cups. The warm air was mixing with the cold, the first flash lit the forest. She waited for the thunder, counting aloud. Nothing. The dish water had fogged the window, she wiped it clear with the sleeve of her sweat shirt. "Darn her!" There was no use trying to get Caitlin inside, the storm was her element and Olympia? Well, that truck was more a storm cloud than an old Dodge. The sound of the truck starting up meant Caitlin was moving. The Golden Retriever scratched at the door, whimpered to go out. "Are you her Rabbit?" Larkin knew the answer to that, and opened the front door.

Caitlin stopped long enough to open the passenger side door to let the Golden dog into the truck. She waved and blew a kiss through the steamy truck cab windows. "Be careful," Larkin said knowing her friend would be what she always was. Risks were fuel for Caitlin O'Neil. Lightning didn't crackle often in Salish, but never went untended for a Keeper like she was. She would draw it down. For the power that surrounds the everyday in the twenty-first century, the first experiments with electricity were the most interesting to Caitlin. Books about Benjamin Franklin, in large copy, were on bookshelves in her tidy but eclectic studio apartment. Originally an old potting shed the eight foot wide by twenty foot long space was easily moved off its foundation, onto a sturdy double axle trailer. It remained on wheels, could be transported whenever the need arose (often) and had the essential ingredient of being grounded by rubber wheels.

"There's no time to move Baba now," she spoke to the Golden making sure the plan was clear to each of them. "We'll set up the kite just outside town." A clearing, one of the few good things about the monstrous practice of clear cutting trees for profit, would allow her to get the Rainbow Works Kite into the sky. A modern day lightning rod in the hands of a Keeping Witch kept life interesting in this part of Salish Country. Somehow the politically correct and ecologically right-minded had forgotten how power was brought down.

The carboys always rode in their carriers in the bed of Olympia. Harnessed to the insulated steel and wood boxes, four glass carboys used most often for brewing wine or beer served Caitlin O'Neil differently. Caitlin's carboys were filled with spring water and capped with a special receptor to welcome the fresh lightning. It was the carboy that made for a common link between Jacob the Surveyor and this young witch. They shared supplies, exchanged recipes, and made magic to benefit many. It was no secret this magic, but, they did not advertise their process. Or maybe it was the small amount of electricity harvested from lightning that left Keepers like Caitlin to tinker.

Larkin wiped the table to clear the remnant crumbs. The center piece that stayed on her kitchen table season in and season out were a collection of eleven White Pine figures, Pine Needle Dancers decorated in colorful embroider floss. "I remember you fondly, and take you never for granted. Dancers, dancers of Pine. Move with the wind. Sing with the tales that wind through the tree tops. Remember me to the people who have gone before me. Praise their memories. Dance Pine Needle Dancers. Dance." 

This was the part Caitlin O'Neil could not do for herself. Larkin's chants, and her sharp memory would call the Lightning down. The Keeper could not do all of it herself. The Elements were the only ones who could live with that. There are few rules, but there are at least two: Be prepared for company was Number One. Always give thanks was the second rule. At the edge of the clearing Caitlin stopped, pulled the handbrake stoutly. "Ready Golden?" The dog barked. "You will have to run very fast and listen for my whistle when it's time to stop." The dog barked twice.

The kite and carboys were unhitched quickly. She was expert at the movements. Even in the downpour Caitlin heard Larkin's chanting in her head. "Dance Pine Needle Dancers. Dance..." Thunder roared above her. She counted. One, two, three. Lightning struck at the far end of the clearing. She pulled her rubber gloves up and over her fingers and wrists. Thank you, she said as she pulled the carboys off the back of the truck and onto the soggy ground. The kite snapped into place creating a stiff, but flexible 'T.' A lightning rod with the colors of the rainbow made of nylon, a double specially spun copper wire was the conduit.

The golden dog had a specially designed collar and harness with rubber ring. The kite's string would attach there. "Now Golden!" Without a second thought the dog sprinted. Thunder. One, two. The lightning was fully formed and brilliant. As silent as the dead, it makes no sound the yin to the yang or yang to the yin lightning and thunder were two ends of the story.