by Eric Smith
“You have really good friends, you know that?” He grinned.
“What is it?” Leila asked.
“Sarika. Asking for you.” Liz pointed at the table next to Leila’s hospital bed. “Your phone died while we were in here, and she’s been texting me for updates like every other hour.”
She texted something back, and the phone immediately buzzed. She looked back at it and sighed.
“Alright,” Liz said, nodding. “I guess let’s get you home. Sarika and Landon are planning to meet us at the house.”
Leila stretched and pushed her legs over the side of the bed, preparing to stand up, when she stopped and looked at the nurse, who stood there keeping a watchful eye on the whole scene.
“Question,” Leila said, as Liz handed her some clothes to replace the old ones from yesterday.
“Hm? What is it?” the nurse asked. Her warm, practiced smile returned.
“What was the weird thing that came up in the blood work?” Leila asked, nodding at the clipboard, her heart hammering in her chest. “What was so weird about it?”
The nurse let out a laugh and shook her head.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but it’s pretty bizarre. Have a look.” She flipped to a page towards the back, and handed the clipboard to Leila. Liz quickly walked around to the side of the bed to peer down at it.
“There,” the nurse pointed at the bottom of the sheet.
“Wow. Yeah, that is weird,” Liz said, shaking her head.
Leila’s heart beat madly as she stared at the word, written large in looping, sloppy handwriting, the sign of a doctor in a rush.
Chlorophyll.
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XXV
“I am not happy about any of this,” Leila said, staring at the selection on the kitchen table.
“Come on, try one,” Sarika said, nudging Leila playfully. “You might like it.”
“I’m going to throw up,” Leila sighed, “but okay.”
The wigs sat neatly in a row on the small kitchen table inside Jon and Lisabeth’s home. It looked like four little animals had broken into the kitchen, eaten their fill, and were now napping on the wooden surface, snuggled together in the sun that peeked through the window. One was black and curly, a small afro, and looked strikingly similar to the hair Leila had just a day ago. Two looked the way her hair did when it was straightened, long and thick, the hair pressed together tightly. And the last was a horrible-looking thing, full of different colors. Red and blonde streaks weaved in and out of each strand.
“I can guess who picked that one out,” Lisabeth said, crossing her arms.
“I thought it looked fun!” Jon exclaimed defensively.
Leila let out a soft laugh, and moved to pick up the natural, curly wig.
“Try one of the other ones, for me?” Sarika begged. “Who knows, Landon might like you with straight, pressed hair.” She winked.
“I’ll be lucky if he’s into me at all anymore,” Leila sighed, grabbing the curly wig. She pushed it down on her head. It was itchy against her now-bald head. She fussed with it, picked up a mirror sitting on the table, and looked at her reflection.
“You look great,” Sarika said, smiling.
“Sure,” Leila scoffed, and pulled out one of the kitchen seats. She sat down and laid her head on the table, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to come out.
“Hey,” Sarika said, rubbing her back. Other hands joined in, and Leila looked off to the side to spot Jon and Liz, their eyes full of worry. “Will it make you feel better if I said we were gonna save the park?”
Leila sat back up.
“Oh?” Leila asked, a smile on her face. “I was worried. We lost like, an entire day.”
“Well, that’s not quite what we told you, Sarika,” Jon said, pulling out a chair from the table. “This morning, while your moth—” he stopped, and shook his head. Leila’s heart hammered at the change of word, and she thought about speaking up. It had felt . . . okay. It felt right. She stopped herself from saying anything.
“While Liz was out with you at the hospital, Landon and I went down to the Academy of Natural Sciences to get some more information on the mouse remains and check up on his super-illegal, but still very cute, owl at the animal hospital.” Jon laughed softly. “And, you know, so I could apologize profusely and beg his forgiveness again.”
“And?” Leila asked, warmth returning to her.
“Well, it’s complicated. He’s at least forgiven me, though,” Jon said, nodding and looking up at Lisabeth. “They can’t really be sure the mouse is from the park. It’s far too, well, eaten. It’ll take too long to analyze the soil, and even that is contaminated because of the poison in the fur. Your best bet is to head back to the grove and try to catch one of the mice or find some droppings. But even then . . .”
Jon shook his head.
“Leila, construction and demolition of that mansion is set to happen on Friday,” Jon said solemnly. “Today is Wednesday. Even with this additional push from you and the club to turn up that endangered mouse, even with the backing of the museum and scientists, it’ll take weeks to prove anything unless the evidence is right in front of the developers’ faces. Or, even better, in the press.”
“So nothing we do matters,” Leila said bluntly, adjusting her itchy wig.
“Well, no, that’s not really what I said,” Jon continued. “If you can find evidence of the mice in the park, we can save it. People from the academy were there all day today, though, as were a few people from Mr. De La Costa’s office—”
“What!” Sarika shouted.
“Okay. The two of you need to understand something about him and his people,” Jon said calmly. “They aren’t the enemy in all of this. They really aren’t. There’s no proof of that mouse. They have been searching for months and haven’t turned up a thing. With this renewed interest, especially with the museum jumping in, they’re back at it, but it’s only going to go on for so long. If they don’t find anything, well, there isn’t much we can do, and they’ll tear it all down to make room for the amphitheater construction.
“But it isn’t all bad!” Jon exclaimed. “I heard they are going to have a greenhouse by the theater, which is going to harbor rare, native plants that need to be reintroduced to Pennsylvania and the countryside. Trees that have died out or plants that are in danger, like wildflowers. You’d be surprised how many plants are in danger. It might be good for the city, considering what’s going on.”
Leila resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
The irony of it all was so thick, it was almost painful.
Destroying a grove with magical creatures that sustained the entire region to build a greenhouse to save a few rare plants and animals who would end up dying anyway.
Leila stood up and pushed her chair in. Her head still pounded with a dull ache from her bike accident, and she still felt a bit woozy from all the drugs at the hospital. She held her balance, pressing against the chair.
“So,” Leila said, exhaling. “Two days to find the animals.”
“Yes, but remember—” Jon started.
“No guarantees,” Leila finished flatly. “You don’t have to tell me that, Jon.” She laughed. “I’ve been dealing with a whole life of no guarantees since I was born.” She turned to Sarika. “To the grove? Call up Landon?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Sarika shrugged. “I mean, if we’re going to help them find any proof, it’ll have to be—”
A soft sob echoed through the kitchen. Sarika’s eyes went wide for a moment, and then she caught Leila’s eye and bit her lip. She moved her chin slightly to tell Leila to turn around.
Lisabeth had her head in her hands, her elbows on the kitchen table and her face buried in her palms. Jon reached over and took one of her hands and she looked up at him, her face glistening with tears and her eyes already red. When she looked at Leila, her face turned up in pain and she closed her eyes. Liz turned her face back down at the table.
“Liz, what—” Leila started.
Lisabeth held up a hand at her, shaking it dismissively.
“I’m fine, it’s fine,” she muttered. She wiped at her face and sniffled loudly, clearing her throat. “Just, you know, happy you’re okay.” Jon cocked his head to the side and looked at Lisabeth with a warm expression, his smile soft and his eyes glistening. He wiped another tear off her face, and turned to Leila, his eyebrows up.
His expression said You know what this is really about.
You know.
“I’m . . . no,” Leila said, taking a step towards Lisabeth and Jon. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. The ‘no guarantees’ stuff.”
“Oh, no, darling it’s not about that,” Lisabeth started, sniffling. Jon still had that look.
“But it is . . . you don’t have to, you know, be all careful with what you say around me, when most of the time I’m not careful about what I say around you. It’s just been a hard few days, is all. I mean, I have a wig on right now, you guys.”
“I just . . .” Lisabeth looked up at Jon, and Leila could see her squeezing his hands, their hands shaking together. “I just try so hard. I do.” She pressed her face into her hands again, and Jon reached across the table to rub her shoulder.
“I just want to be a good mom,” Lisabeth choked out.
“Oh, Liz . . .” Jon said. He wrapped his arms around her from behind her chair, and she snuggled her head into his forearms.
Leila could feel the anxiety rushing through her, the pressure in her chest.
“Do something,” Sarika whispered.
Leila took a careful step towards Jon and Liz, and then another.
The urge to turn and run out of the room, to escape through the house and out the door, to hide someplace, any place other than here, was almost overwhelming.
The voice.
The dryad’s voice in the woods.
It didn’t come. She didn’t speak. Karayea didn’t insert herself into the moment, or insist that she was her mother. If there was ever a moment to dispute this, to chime in, to actually say something that wasn’t just her asking for something from Leila, this would be the time. The time to say no. It’s me. I’m your mother.
But she wasn’t.
And she hadn’t been for a long time.
Leila took another step and opened her arms. She could feel them shaking as she reached out, and gingerly wrapped them around Liz, wedging her right arm between her and Jon. Liz turned away from her husband’s arms and wrapped her arms around Leila, pulling her tightly.
“I just love you so much,” Lisabeth said. “When your hair fell out, and the bike accident, my heart, my heart stopped.”
Leila’s heart raced, her breath came in quick bursts.
“I . . .”
And the wall broke. For the woman who wouldn’t stop trying, no matter how much Leila pushed back. No matter what passive aggressive remarks she made, or how many dinners she blew off to go out with her friends, to hide in the coffee shop or sulk in the gardens. No matter how often these past few weeks she closed her eyes, listening to the whispers of the woman who called her daughter on the wind, the woman who gave birth to her was most certainly not her mother.
“I love you, too,” Leila whispered.
Lisabeth looked up at Leila and a smile beamed over her face, still slick with tears. Leila’s lip quivered. She glanced out the kitchen window at Major Willow in the yard. Not all the leaves had fallen yet. She wasn’t willing to give up. She was still fighting.
Leila looked back to Lisabeth, and exhaled.
“Mom.”
XXVI
“Mouse trap?”
“Check.”
“Bait for the trap?”
“Also check.”
“A kiss for me, a literally magical creature?”
“Che—”
“I swear to God, I am not hanging out with you two anymore!” Sarika shouted as Leila walked down the long, wooden path towards the mansion with Landon. He carried two glass aquariums under his arms, with small planks of wood inside that clattered about as they walked, perfect for making simple ramps into the tanks. A jar of peanut butter rolled back and forth with each step, making soft thunk sounds against the glass panes.
Leila walked next to him, her hands feeling strangely empty without his. He leaned over, despite the crazy amount of materials in his arms, and kissed her on the cheek.
“Check.”
“Has the world ended yet?” Sarika asked as they continued forward. “Maybe let’s stop this quest. Let it all just fade away. I’ve done what I need to do in this life.”
Leila slowed down and walked next to Sarika, letting Landon taking the lead with his arms wrapped around all the materials. He’d insisted he carry it all solo, leaving Leila and Sarika to casually stroll their way along the path.
A soft breeze picked up and the trees that lined the path towards the mansion and the grove rustled, a gentle swoosh through empty branches and the leaves that laid all along the ground. Leila closed her eyes as the rush of cool air tickled her skin, then sighed. The way the wind tickled her hair, the way it flowed through her thick curls . . . it was gone. She adjusted her wig with her free hand.
She stopped and shut her eyes tightly.
Waiting.
“Anything?” Sarika asked, letting go. Leila could feel her taking a step ahead, and listened as the jostling of Landon’s tanks and materials stopped.
“Leila?” Landon called from a little bit away.
“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Leila said, breathing in and out slowly. She shook her head and opened her eyes, rejoining Sarika, looping her arm through hers as they continued towards the end of the trail. “It’s just weird, you know? All the trees are empty. The birds are quiet. And the whispering? Nothing. I thought I’d hear at least something.” She sighed loudly. “God, I hope they didn’t—”
“Don’t even think it,” Sarika said firmly. “Come on.”
They moved faster, hurrying towards the end of the trail. Soon they caught up with Landon, who had kept up a pretty quick pace despite all he carried. The developers had clearly been through the area again. The pathway that was once so narrow, and that had been lightly trimmed and marked before, was now several feet wide, large enough for a car to rumble down.
A twinge of pai
n hit Leila somewhere inside her chest and she stopped walking and placed her hand over her sternum. She breathed in slowly, feeling woozy again, the way she had when her hair fell out.
“What is it?” Sarika asked. They had reached the end of the trail, and the large, broken-down mansion came into view. In the late afternoon (or “golden hour” as Shawn had called it on that awkward, poorly planned first date) it looked far more beautiful than ever. The sun cast a faint glow on the stone face, illuminating the small details that were crumbling, but still holding on tight. More of the plants and shrubbery in the area had been cleared out. The ones that remained were brown, dying, and something else was . . . off.
Leila shook her head and looked down at the ground. The patches of dirt visible through littering of leaves looked strangely lighter, paler almost.
“I don’t know,” Leila said. She felt nauseous, the discomfort flowing over her and nestling itself in the pit of her stomach like a rock.
Landon stopped abruptly and turned to Leila and Sarika.
“Someone’s still here!” he whisper-shouted, his eyes wide. He looked around, set the aquariums down, then darted towards the mansion. He motioned to Leila and Sarika.
“Come on!”
Sarika grabbed Leila’s hand and they hurried into the crumbling building. The inside was full of dirt and overgrown plants tucked into cracks and bursting through the shattered windows. Even the leaves in here had faded to brown, but their stems and small branches were white with death, like bleached bones. Each step left Leila feeling short of breath, and as she pressed herself against the mansion’s old, crumbling stone walls, she winced, feeling sore all over.
“Something—something isn’t right,” Leila said, starting to feel breathless. “The plants . . . everything around here . . .” Landon and Sarika hurried to her side. A pain shot through Leila’s stomach and she doubled over with a grimace. “I think . . . we are too late. . . .”
Landon peered over her shoulder to look at something past her, and his eyes went wide, his expression turned furious.
He practically snarled at Sarika, “Keep an eye on her, I’ll be right back.” And then he looked right into Leila’s eyes. “You hear me? I’ll be right back. I’m not going anywhere.”