by Amy Cross
"Why do people keep trying to kill him?" Eva asked.
"No-one's trying to kill him."
"People shoot at him."
"They're shooting at the army, not specifically at your father."
"But he's still there," Eva continued. "He could still get shot."
"He's not going to get shot!" her mother snapped, raising her voice a little. "Oh," she added, rushing forward and giving Eva another hug, spilling half the glass of water in the process. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Momma never means to shout at her angel, it's just..." She paused for a moment. "You mustn't think bad thoughts. If you think bad thoughts, you're tempting fate. You must think good thoughts, only good thoughts. Happy thoughts. Daddy's coming home in six weeks. That's not really such a long time, is it? Just six more weeks of good and happy thoughts. Do you think you can manage that?"
"I suppose," Eva replied non-committally.
"That's my girl," her mother said, stepping back and smiling. She had tears in her eyes, which was pretty much par for the course these days. It was clear to everyone, even to Eva, that her mother was cracking up. Sometimes, Eva felt as if her mother lived in a bubble, spending all her time worrying about other people. Even her mother's rare smiles seemed forced and nervous.
"I'm going to go and play again," Eva said.
"Where?"
"Outside."
"Where outside?"
"In the woods."
"Are you sure you want to do that?" her mother asked nervously. "Wouldn't you like to play inside, with your books or your dolls? I'll even let you watch a DVD if you're good."
"I won't go far," Eva said. "I promise. I'll make sure I can always see the back gate, and I won't go too far, so that I can hear you if you call for me." She was just parroting the instructions her mother had given her many times before; she had no particular intention of staying within those boundaries.
There was a pause, and Eva wondered if she was going to be made to stay inside again.
"Fine," her mother said eventually, sounding tired. "Just... not for too long, okay? I'm worried it might rain, and you could get ill if you end up soaked, do you understand? The last thing I want is to have to tell your father that his little princess has got pneumonia."
Eva nodded.
"I mean it. I'll be mad at you if I have to come and search for you out there."
"I'll stay close," Eva said. "I won't be more than an hour, and I won't go any further than the old oak tree."
"No climbing."
"I won't climb it," Eva replied, turning and heading back out into the garden.
"I'll know if you climbed it!"
"I won't climb it!"
"And if you meet anyone out there," her mother called after her, "come home immediately, do you hear? You're not allowed to talk to strangers!"
"I won't," Eva said, hurrying along the garden and out through the little gate. This was when she was at her happiest: running away from the house, alone, heading out into the wilderness beyond. She knew that if she went far enough, she wouldn't be able to hear the phone, even if it rang all day.
Finally, she was back at the edge of the woods. With her mother having become a nervous wreck lately, Eva loved spending as much time as possible out here. Of course, she kind of wished that she had some friends, perhaps just one person she could bring out here and teach about the place. The problem wasn't that Eva was anti-social, it was just that there were no girls her age nearby, and she hadn't started at the local school yet, so she had no choice but to play alone. Anyway, these woods were good for her; they fired her imagination and kept her busy, and she was happy to just wander between the trees, making note of the things that she saw and occasionally collecting little samples of foliage.
She felt safe out here as she trudged through the piles of dead leaves. Safer than she felt at home, where the phone might ring at any moment with bad news from the other side of the world.
Eva was used to spending time alone in the woods. Occasionally, she imagined she heard someone nearby, but it always turned out to be the wind or some kind of harmless animal. One time, she even saw a deer. Few people in this dull little town ever bothered to venture out here, and Eva knew that she didn't have much to worry about. Besides, she was good at running, and she felt certain that she could easily get home without anyone being able to catch her. The woods were her world, where her rules applied, and she felt much safer out here than she did when she was in town. At least in the woods, everything moved nice and slowly. Eva had even come up with a plan to move out here one day and just live in the wilderness.
Hearing a screeching sound high above, Eva glanced up and saw a small black creature circling the forest. At first she thought it might be a bird, but as it swooped down and flew past her, she realized it was darker and more ragged. A bat, maybe.
After a few minutes, she reached the large old oak tree that stood alone in a clearing. Towering several meters above her, the tree had obviously suffered some kind of disaster in the past, and its trunk was split and twisted, opening at the top into two gnarled arms that seemed to reach up to the sky. Eva liked to imagine what kind of tragedy had struck this tree long ago in the past; a lightning strike, perhaps, or some kind of huge battle between a pair of giants. So many of the trees in the forest were tall and thin and straight, but this tree was different. It seemed powerful and important.
It was this tree, more than any other in the forest, that attracted Eva's attention, and she kept promising herself that one day she'd try to climb all the way to the top. Looking up, she could see thick branches that would surely provide support, and she longed to know what it was like up at the very top, beyond the leaves. She couldn't help imagining herself all the way up there, breaking through the canopy and looking out over the whole world. She'd never come down again, either. She'd just stay up there forever and ever, watching the rest of the world and not having to talk to anyone or wait for the phone to ring.
But today wasn't the right day. Climbing the tree would require preparation, and she knew it might be a long time before she was ready. Still, she was pleased that she had a goal in life. One day, she'd live in the old oak tree and just watch the world from a distance. All things considered, she felt that it wasn't a bad plan. Some people wanted to be lawyers, some people wanted to be teachers of pop stars, and Eva wanted to be the queen of the forest. Even her mother would have to agree with it eventually, since no-one could hurt Eva if she was up in the tree. Besides, she'd need her mother to come and deliver food, since Eva didn't much fancy eating bugs and leaves for the rest of her life. There were still a few flaws in the plan, but she was sure she'd have everything worked out eventually.
As the afternoon draw on, and as she played at the base of the old tree, she became more and more aware that sooner or later she'd have to go home. At one point, she even thought she heard the phone ringing, even though she was certain that she shouldn't be able to hear anything from the house, not when she was this far out in the forest. Delaying her return as long as possible, she waited until the light began to dim before accepting that it was time to go back. Still, though, she loitered, delaying the inevitable.
A couple of hours later, when Eva returned home, she found her mother sitting by the phone with tears in her eyes.
Chapter Two
Eva had never been to a funeral before.
Basically, what happened was this: a bunch of people turned up, some of whom Eva recognized, and then there was a car journey to the local church. Everyone sat around and listened to the priest, while Eva's father's coffin was displayed at the front, with the lid closed and a Union Jack flag draped over the top. After that, everyone went to the cemetery and the coffin was put into the ground, and then some people threw dirt down into the hole before everyone went back to Eva's house and had lunch. It was much neater than Eva had expected, and much more quiet. Everyone seemed to be whispering most of the time, and although some of the people were trying to pretend that they were smiling, t
hey weren't very convincing. Every so often, one of the adults would look over at Eva and tell her that she was brave, which made no sense at all.
She didn't feel brave.
Eva couldn't stop looking at the photo of her father in his military uniform. She remembered when the photo was taken, and she found it odd to think that it was now being used to mark his death. He looked so proud and heroic, and Eva kept imagining that uniform being ripped to pieces and covered in blood. She knew she shouldn't be thinking about such things, but she was bored. No-one really spoke to her at all during the whole day, and even her mother seemed busy with other things. For the most part, Eva was left alone.
Although no-one had officially told Eva what happened to her father when he was killed, she'd managed to work most of it out by listening to conversations. It seemed that he'd been out on patrol in Afghanistan when a bomb exploded by the side of the road. The vehicle was badly damaged, but Eva's father and another solider managed to get away. They were properly hurt, but they started making their way back to their base on foot. Eventually, however, Eva's father got too tired, probably because he was bleeding a lot. The two men had to stop, and although help turned up after a while, it was too late for Eva's father, who turned out to be dead. It wasn't quite the heroic death that Eva had hoped for, and she wasn't sure why her mother kept insisting that it was a noble act of sacrifice and courage. Still, Eva was aware that she was probably still too young to understand the whole thing; she felt as if she was experiencing everything through a filter that prevented her from understanding the truth.
As the afternoon wore on, Eva's boredom became more and more intolerable, until finally she decided that she'd had enough. She tried to go and tell her mother that she wanted to go outside, but the house was so full of guests that it was impossible to even get to the front room, so Eva figured she'd just go out to the woods for a while. Opening the back door, she made her way to the gate and then out toward the trees. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she felt something change deep inside. It was as if being out here made everything better, almost as if the trees themselves were able to take away all of Eva's doubts and fears. She glanced back at the house and found herself wondering why everyone else didn't come out with her. Then again, she didn't particularly want them to interrupt her private world, so she decided not to go back and invite them.
Walking between the trees, she found that her mind was getting emptier. This, she felt, was a good thing, since it prevented her from thinking too much about her father. Because her mother had cried so much, Eva had barely cried at all. She figured her mother had borrowed all her tears, so she had none left. She felt that her mother should share the tears, but for now there was nothing to be done about all of that.
Unfortunately, thoughts soon came tumbling back to fill the void. What she wanted, really, was to just forget about everything. She knew that her mother was going to be a mess for quite a long time, and she was dreading the whole thing. The funeral would be over in an hour or two, but life without her father would last forever. Sure, he hadn't been around much lately, but there'd always been the idea that he'd eventually come home. Now, however, Eva knew that he was gone for good, and that his final moments had been spent bleeding to death on the other side of the world. Although she didn't really like thinking about it too much, she couldn't help imagining what it must have been like for him as he died. She hoped it hadn't been too painful, and that he'd thought of his family.
While the trees made her feel much better, it was the old oak tree that really calmed her nerves. She had no idea why, but this twisted old tree seemed to understand her. In fact, it seemed to understand the whole forest, as if it was the heart of all the other trees. As soon as she reached the trunk and put her hand on the bark, she felt like she was reunited with an old friend. It occurred to her that, now her father was gone, this might be a good time to climb up the tree and start a new life, but she knew deep down that she still wasn't ready. There was a great deal of planning and preparation to undertake, and the last thing she wanted was to rush things and end up having to come back down. No, the whole idea was to go up the tree and stay there, which in turn necessitated a more thoughtful and guided approach. Still, it was nice to think that one day she'd be able to leave the ground behind and live alone among the branches.
As she stood with her hand on the tree, she suddenly realized that there was a noise nearby. Glancing over her shoulder, she frowned. She was used to hearing little noises out here, but this seemed different. It was almost as if someone was breathing, and Eva was filled with the sense that she was being watched from somewhere. Looking in every direction, she tried to work out who or what could have snuck up on her, but there was nothing to see. Still, the sensation persisted, and although she kept her hand firmly planted on the tree, she craned her neck to look around the other side of the trunk. She was absolutely certain that someone was out here with her, and she was pretty certain it wasn't another deer.
And that's when she felt it.
Something wet and warm on her hand.
Slowly, she turned and saw that a single, dark red line of blood had dribbled down the side of the tree, picking its way over the rough bark, between two of Eva's fingers, and onto the flesh of her hand. There was a now a small bloody bead making its way slowly down toward her wrist.
For a moment, all Eva could do was stare at the blood. It wasn't hers, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. Eva knew that blood had to come from somewhere, and trees couldn't bleed, so...
She knew she should look up.
She knew should look straight up and see what or who was bleeding. Whatever it was, it must be up in the tree. Still, she was nervous, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know what was happening. There was a part of her that wanted to turn and run, but at the same time she also felt as if she had to be brave. Wouldn't her father want her to be brave? Then again, it was being brave that had got her father into trouble in the first place.
She took a deep breath.
She watched as the bead of blood trickled all the way down to the cuff of her shirt.
She took another deep breath.
Her heart was pounding.
Slowly, she looked up into the tree.
There was nothing.
Squinting, she tried to peer into the darkness, but she couldn't see a thing. Her first thought was that somehow there was a mistake. Perhaps a tiny bird was the source of the blood, or maybe it was just some kind of weird red sap, or the juice from a berry. After a moment, however, she realized that there was a more likely explanation. Whatever was up there, it must simply be higher in the branches, out of sight.
Hiding.
"Hello?" she called out. Immediately, she realized she might have made a mistake. After all, she wasn't sure if she wanted to draw attention to herself.
Silence. In fact, the only sound came from the wind, gently rustling the nearby leaves.
"Is someone up there?" Eva continued. "Are you hurt?"
She waited.
No reply.
Looking at the blood on her hand, she realized that there was no blood anywhere else. She couldn't help wondering if this was a coincidence, or if whatever was in the tree had chosen very specifically to bleed onto her.
"Is anyone up there?" she called out again as she took her hand away from the tree. "If you're there, just say something, just so I know."
Again, she waited.
Again, there was nothing.
"If you don't say anything," she continued, "I'll assume there's not..." Her voice trailed off as she suddenly found herself wondering whether she'd lost her mind. After all, the death of her father had left her feeling strangely blank and unemotional, and now she was starting to think that the stress might be coming out in other ways. Then again, the blood on her hand was real. She could see it and she could feel it. To test herself, she forced herself to lick the blood, and its taste immediately filled her mouth. She was certain she couldn't have imagined such a s
trong sensation, so the blood had to be real, which in turn meant that it had to have come from somewhere.
"One drop of blood isn't much," she said, looking up at the tree. "If that's all you've lost, you must be okay. I mean, no-one ever bled to death from..."
Again, her voice trailed off. This time, she found herself suddenly thinking about her father. Hadn't he, out in Afghanistan, ended up bleeding to death after he was injured by a bomb? Staring up at the tree, Eva briefly allowed herself to think that perhaps her father was trying to send her some kind of message; after a few seconds, however, she realized that there was a more likely explanation. Suddenly, everything made perfect sense.
"Are you a soldier?" she asked, staring up into the dark branches.
Silence.
"Are you hurt? Did you get hurt by a bomb, or a gun or something like that?"
Silence, and then a low groan, almost like a growl. It was brief, and barely audible, but it was definitely there.
Eva took a deep breath. She was fairly sure she knew now what was happening. It was a little unlikely, especially since she thought all the wars happened on the other side of the world, but it was the only idea she could come up with. Somehow, an injured soldier from far away had found his way to the woods, and he'd climbed the tree. Obviously it was quite a big coincidence that this had happened just after her father's death, but Eva knew that coincidences did happen from time to time. Just because something was unlikely, she knew it couldn't be ruled out if it was the only logical explanation.
There was a soldier in the tree. It was the only thing that made sense.
She couldn't help thinking about the poor, injured man hiding up there. He was probably scared and in pain. Although Eva hoped that his injuries were minor, she knew that war could be nasty and that there was a strong chance the soldier was badly hurt. He probably didn't really know where he was, and he was probably scared of Eva. She wanted to help him, but she knew she'd have to win his trust first.
"My name's Eva Wilson," she said, trying to sound calm and friendly. "I live nearby. I play in these woods a lot. This is my favorite tree, but it's okay, you can use it and I won't tell anyone."