cont.

Inside there was the grey lamb. “And finally, Noe, we meet.” It stepped gingerly toward Noe, picking up a pine bough in its mouth. White moths were covering the lamb’s neck like a wreath. “I suppose you will be wondering what happened to Cyril, but perhaps you won’t be.” The lamb nosed the hole in Noe’s stomach and opened its mouth. A piece of honeycomb fell out onto the floor, oozing honey. “Please, have some if you like.” The old woman scooped it up and put it in a glass jar, placing it onto a shelf next to a jar of curds.
“Oh, Noe. We will eat these later.” She smelled the jar of curds wistfully. “But for now I’ll make some tea.” The lamb sat on the floor and watched. The dog shuffled over to the lamb and laid its head on the lamb’s stomach, sighing.
The old woman opened a cupboard full of small glass jars, each containing some form of dried leaves or flowers. A spice odor wafted to where they were watching. She got out four different jars and set them on the table. The kettle hissed. She made a content noise and turned the burner off. From the cupboard below the counter, she got out a medium-sized nut and a gnarled root, which she also set on the table. She hummed a few random notes as she opened other doors, gathering a large glass bowl, two smaller glass bowls, two teacups, a grater, and a bottle of exotic oil. She arrayed the implements. “Thank you for being so patient with me. I promise that the tea I’m making will be worth your wait.” She crinkled her eyes and reached for a glass jar. Just before she could open it, the lamb interrupted her.
“Do you think it would be beneficial to tell us how you’re making the tea?”
“Oh, yes! Yes, of course.” She opened the jar and smelled it. “Thank you for being so helpful. You are very kind.” She took a pinch of leaves from the jar and crushed them with her fingers. “These are stinging nettles. Whenever you brush by one with your bare skin, it stings you. To heal that burn, you can use jewelweed. But dried like this, nettles are gentle as a lamb.” She laughed airily and picked up the grater. “Ginger root is very good for the digestive system. It is very spicy, but it loves you.” She grated the ginger vigorously over the bowl. She breathed over the bowl deeply. She uttered a faint noise and reached for another jar. “Lavender cleanses your blood and refreshes your spirit.” She placed a small handful of lavender in the large bowl and reached for the next jar. She scooped a handful of dried leaves out of the jar, scattering them in the bowl. “Sassafras. Such a fun word to say.” She grinned. “Sassafras.”
“Sassafras,” said the gray lamb. The old woman laughed.
Suddenly she became very serious. “My water is getting cold, so I must be slightly hurried.” She picked up the last jar. “Raspberry blossoms and leaves.” She sprinkled a small palmful into the bowl and smelled. “Good. Now for nutmeg and cedar oil.” She measured a capful of cedar oil and poured it into the bowl. Again, with the grater, she vigorously grated an indeterminate quantity of nutmeg into the bowl. “Finished.” She stirred the contents with a wooden spoon and gently poured hot water on. The tea smelled sour and medicinal. “We should let it brew for at least ten minutes. What should we talk about in the meantime?” She turned over an egg timer.

The gray lamb was still in the brambles, but Noe was in the clearing in his dream. He sat on the leaves and patted the hole in his stomach. Flowers were growing very plentifully inside. He plucked several and smelled them. They smelled just like raspberry flowers. He ate one. It tasted exactly like a raspberry flower. He waited for something to happen, but he didn’t know what he ought to expect. He clenched a handful of grass in his fist and ripped it out of the ground. The gray lamb bounded in from out of the shadows and nosed his hand. It whispered to him. “Feed me that grass,” it said. Noe did this. “Now follow me, young man.” Noe did this.
They walked together toward the edge of the clearing until the lamb stopped suddenly. “Turn around. What do you see?”
Noe looked at the clearing. There was the mound of leaves, the small bit of grass he tore out of the ground, a circle of petals, the vial. Samara.
“Now, go get the samara and the vial. These are symbolic of things you are clearing out of your consciousness. You are, per usual, asleep, but you won’t wake up just yet.” The lamb opened its mouth. Noe placed some of the pine seeds and the vial in the lamb’s mouth. “Yes,” it said. “Now, walk with me.” They walked into the woods. The lamb disappeared behind a tree. “But, young man with the hole in his stomach, I have not disappeared behind a tree. You won’t be able to see me here. I am only visible in there.” Something near his feet rustled. “I will erase that place.”
Noe was afraid, and the voice of the lamb was not comforting. He indicated his fear with his thoughts. “Hush,” said the lamb. “You see, I have eaten you, but you couldn’t possibly realize it yet. Don’t think yourself a fool for this. You simply couldn’t have known.” The lamb laughed a bit, which caused the woods to tremble. “You are dreaming.” The lamb seemed to whisper in Noe’s ear, “I am also dreaming. We are dreaming together, you having been eaten by me. Now, walk that way.” Light rose in the woods, revealing the moss on the trees. “North,” said the lamb. Noe followed the moss.
He walked for what seemed like hours until he came to a small, odorless flower. It grew slightly as he approached. It was slightly pink with a deep red center. Its petals flexed gingerly against one another and arranged to form some kind of mouth analog. When the flower spoke, it was the voice of the lamb. “This is not what you think.”