The bonds formed in childhood, although often transitory relationships, remain with us for the rest of our lives. In this novella, three friends in a suburban outpost on the edge of wilderness find their way through a changing landscape and society in the 1960s.
I am a writer of fiction, memoir, and poetry. My books include the novels Passages, The Horizon Seekers, and Covenant; memoirs Into The Fire: A Poet's Journey through Hell's Kitchen; Tally: An Intuitive Life; Community: Power Politics and Democracy in Hell's Kitchen; and a poetry novel, Children of Light.
This coming-of age novella is an eclectic mix of Floridian history, its Gulf Coast landscape and the lives of Orchie, Bobby, Red and Lucy. It is 1960 and names like Elvis, JFK, Sputnik and Enos, the space monkey dot the pages of Mary Clark’s Covenant as the youngsters listen to their transistor radios and look for the next childhood thrill. They are a wild bunch of young kids who roam the neighborhoods, the ever-entertaining beaches, and back trails as they get glimpses into the harsh reality of adult lives as they observe their parents. After some leave for places such as Georgia and Virginia, they ultimately return to their beloved Florida. Orchie vows to make a covenant as she evolves into a young woman who has witnessed her friends experiencing adult dilemmas. A nice easy, reminiscent read for those who lived during those years!
Covenant. An agreement between parties that is binding like a contract. It’s one of the metaphors used in the Christian and Jewish traditions regarding God’s relationship with and expectation of humankind. In a secular sense it can suggest a collective upholding of certain principals and beliefs—a ritual, even religious pledge and expectation of allegiance to a common, even exalted purpose.
In the bible, Covenant and Testament are used interchangeably. Mary Clark’s Covenant is a testament to how relationships form, flourish, are tested, fall apart, and, if they run deep enough, endure.
As the lives of three youths growing up in the 1950’s and 60’s on Florida’s Gulf Coast intersect, promises are made sub-consciously, at times devoutly. Commonality occurs because of being a certain age in a particular time and place, of sharing amusements, music, uncertainty and wonder, loss and discovery. Loyalty is the maturing of friendship seeded in companionship, threatened by struggle and change, and nurtured by empathy and necessity. Mary Clark’s nostalgic and sensitive offering of their story starts small, out of the inconspicuous, but grows larger and larger in its awareness of the world around them, paralleling very personal events with those that affect their country and the world. These were times I lived through—the civil rights movement, the cold war, JFK’s assassination—and, so, reminded me of how as a child my actual and imaginative life was affected by the decisions and actions of adults. Not always negatively, as one particular scene highlights. When Orchie sees a white man hit a black man who has walked onto a segregated beach and the white man is arrested, she experiences “…the thrill of being in the moment of fundamental change.” I can remember that feeling so well.
The story of Orchie, Red and Bobby is soothing and stark, amusing and disquieting, individualistic and altruistic as it reflects through hours, days, months and years. Mary Clark’s writing is eloquent, even as she ‘speaks’ of poverty and violence, devastation and betrayal. It is word-rich with beautiful sensory descriptions that set the scenes—the woods, the swamps, the beaches, the small town— where the young people spend their time; a blend of raw reality and dreaminess that moves the narrative beyond the simple alliance of children to an agreement that requires them to look into their consciences and hearts.