The Memory of Sky

by Robert Reed

  Then the wind gusted, and Diamond began whirling again. A second large landing was under him, reaching up for him, and he tucked too late, one hand slapping the railing, two fingers shattering. That was when the fear took hold. Diamond rolled, flailing with his arms, his legs. He ended up on his belly, falling slower. Arms and legs were bent upwards. The shirt flapped and the trouser legs popped and his thick long curly hair rose up from his scalp. Tiny details offered themselves to his astonished eyes: three boys in brown uniforms racing along a walkway; an old lady wearing a tall red hat furiously sweeping a tiny landing; dangling pieces of metal ringing against one another in the same wind; and a solitary banner fixed to an empty piece of the tree, covered with words worn away by rain and sunlight, rendered too faint to read.

  Perched on railing was one tall golden bird, and seeing the boy pass, the bird tucked and fell, narrow as a knife until it was close, and then the wings spread, cupping the air as the creature gracefully turned a half-circle, letting its curiosity gnaw at the helpless boy.

  Diamond looked at the bird’s black eyes.

  “Careful,” said the bird.

  Except the bird said nothing. He thought it had, except it was gone suddenly and the voice remained.

  “Diamond,” she said.

  He turned his head, and his body flipped again.

  “Keep flat,” Elata shouted. “Use your arms, your legs. Steer yourself, Diamond. And watch below for a landing place.”

  Head down, she was closing fast and screaming to be heard. Diamond foolishly looked up and again started to spin, and she yelled, “No, stop, no,” and he got control of himself as she reached him.

  One moment, she was vertical, arms flush to her sides. Then just before streaking into the lead, she flattened out and spread her arms and legs, pulling up, and suddenly both of them were motionless. Marduk was rising fast beside them. She coughed and then spoke. As much to herself as to Diamond, she said, “We’re going to be all right.”

  He tried to talk but couldn’t.

  “But we’re little enough to fall slow.” Moving one arm, she pulled closer. “With dropsuits, this is easy.”

  “With what?” he muttered.

  “I’m watching for a place,” she said.

  “What place?

  “To land,” she said.

  He looked down too.

  Her voice was inside one of his ears. “The public landing. See it?”

  The morning mists were retreating, pulling down the tree trunk and exposing what looked like a long gray belt. From high above, there wasn’t any target. If that was the landing, it seemed very narrow. But distances kept shrinking and everything far away became larger and more important, and the mists continued to drop, revealing more portions of a trunk that might never end.

  “Be careful,” she kept telling him.

  He made agreeable sounds.

  “At the last moment,” she said, “put your feet down and roll forward. And leave your legs bent when you hit.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  A giant leatherwing slid past them, a high soft voice washing over them.

  “Relax,” Elata said.

  And Diamond became more nervous, more self-conscious.

  “I’ve fallen this far before,” she insisted.

  Their target had grown wide and complicated. The flat gray face was littered with objects that didn’t move and objects that did. Diamond tried to gauge speed and direction. Then Elata said something else, and he couldn’t understand.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Don’t hit those people,” she said. “Don’t hurt anybody.”

  The moving objects were people.

  “Are you ready, Diamond?”

  Cupping his hands, he attempted to steer himself.

  Then she grabbed one of his hands. “I see where. Relax, relax. And when I tuck, you tuck. Okay?”

  But he pulled his hand away.

  Elata grabbed him again.

  Diamond didn’t push hard, but suddenly there was air between them. They were pulling apart as he looked at her scared face and the long black hair blowing up, and she curled her fingers, as if clinging to the wind. Then another figure dropped down, flattening and hovering just overhead. Diamond assumed it was the golden bird, but then that bird shouted, “You’re too close. Too close to the tree.”

  Seldom had caught them.

  “Come back here,” Elata begged.

  But Diamond wasn’t afraid. He didn’t want to drop on top of anyone, and once he saw the answer, he felt better. There were a lot of good reasons to be scared, but not about the landing.

  Arching his back, Diamond sent himself plunging forward. Marduk was a great brown wall, and there was nothing else in the world. Little pockets in the bark were full of epiphytes and angry birds, and the wind seemed louder, and he shut his eyes out of reflex, shut them tight.

  The massive tree felt nothing when that tiny boy struck first with his face and then with his crumbling body.

  Tumbling was followed by stillness and darkness. Then a voice found him. “Oh, gracious,” a woman said. “My gracious, I can’t look.”

  Someone else said, “What a waste.”

  Other voices buzzed in the distance.

  Then an angry man said, “You shouldn’t have done that. What were you doing, you idiot?”

  “Are you all right?” a woman asked.

  Diamond tried to answer, but his jaw was broken.

  “You’re hurt,” the sorrowful woman said.

  “I’m fine,” Elata said. “Just sore.”

  The angry man said, “You’re a very thoughtless girl.”

  Elata said, “My friend fell. I had to help him.”

  “And your friend is a fool,” the man continued. “That was the worst fall that I have ever, ever seen.”

  “He’s your friend?” the woman asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, don’t look at the poor boy. Put your eyes somewhere else.”

  People were moving closer and moving away, and then Elata whispered, “How are you, Diamond?”

  Diamond tried to answer, but his mouth wasn’t working.

  Seldom came close. “I shouldn’t have jumped,” he said.

  “It’s against the law,” the angry man agreed.

  “Look at him,” said Seldom. Then he was close, quietly asking an ear, “Are you alive, Diamond?”

  Diamond tried to move an arm, but the bone was fractured.

  Somebody touched him.

  Several voices were talking about the police.

  The sorrowful woman said, “Oh please, cover him up.”

  “Stupid kids,” the angry man kept saying.

  Elata said, “Thank you.” Something slick and cool was thrown over Diamond. A darker blackness was pulled across him.

  Elata touched him and pulled her hand away.

  “What?” asked Seldom.

  “Feel this,” she said.

  “No.”

  “Touch him here.”

  “I don’t want to touch him.”

  Someone put a long hand on his shoulder and left it there, and Elata said, “Look,” and then a moment later, “Are you watching?”

  “Yes,” Seldom whispered.

  Once more, she said, “Touch him.”

  Another hand fell on his shoulder.

  Seldom said, “He’s hot.”

  “Like fire,” she agreed.

  Both of their hands pulled away.

  Again, she said, “Look.”

  “His face . . . ”

  “Do you see that?”

  There was a long pause. Then with a soft, impressed voice, Seldom said, “This is amazing.”

  Diamond didn’t feel feverish, but the wood beneath him was impossibly cold. His best arm moved his best hand and he touched himself, sticky fingers brushing against the gore that had been his face. There was no perceptible heat. His entire body was cooking itself to remake itself. Shredded flesh remembered its shape and found th
e most elegant route to return that earlier state. A fractured eye socket was rewoven and hardened in the space of thirty quick breaths. Then light returned to the world, sudden and too brilliant to endure. He tried to close his eyes, but the impact had ripped away one of his eyelids. Using the good arm, he covered the exposed eye. “Bright,” he said with a mouth that felt borrowed.

  “That tooth,” Seldom said.

  Cold fingertips touched his lip, his gum.

  The eye and its lid were trying to finish. Diamond lowered his hand, touching Elata’s hand, and she took hold of a finger and thumb.

  The brightness dissolved into two figures kneeling beside him, big eyes dancing inside spellbound faces.

  “His arm,” said Seldom.

  “What?” Elata asked.

  Into her ear, he whispered, “It was broken. Wasn’t it?”

  “Quiet.”

  A borrowed poncho covered Diamond, save for his face. He was lying on his back, his battered head turned to the right, his two companions on their knees beside him, inadvertently helping to hide what was happening. The adults were nearby, watching what little they could. There was respectful worry and lingering scorn for what these three children had done. “It’s nothing but dangerous, falling on top of people,” said the angry man. “Innocents could have been hurt. I hope they get punished right.”

  “The authorities,” a distant woman said. “Are they coming?”

  “To nab that pair for detention,” the man said. “And if he survives, the other criminal goes to the hospital.”

  “Don’t say that,” the sorrowful woman warned.

  The man grunted. “Hey, I saw him hit. Face first, and hard.”

  “But—”

  “That boy’s never waking up,” the man promised. “If he’s lucky, he dies before he feels a damned thing.”

  Diamond took a long wet breath.

  The crowd quieted.

  Then the badly injured boy sat up, and everybody gasped.

  Elata fell back.

  Seldom blinked and stared, nervous laughter dribbling out.

  Everybody could see Diamond. There was a lot of blood to absorb, and some people retreated from the gore. Others, inquisitive or tougher, stepped forward, trying to make sense of the phenomena.

  The angry man was gray and heavy-set, and he didn’t move. He could see fine from where he stood, and nothing he saw was pleasant. With a scowl, he asked, “What’s going on here?”

  “He doesn’t look too bad,” the sorrowful woman said.

  Again, the man said, “I saw him hit. And I know that arm was busted.”

  Diamond lifted the arm. Rebuilt eyes watched his fingers open and wiggle and then close tight, the pressure of his grip making a small ache inside his freshly repaired wrist.

  “What is going on here?” the man demanded.

  Elata put her face to his ear. “Are you all right?”

  Diamond nodded.

  “How can you . . . ?” Her voice trailed away.

  “It’s not possible,” Seldom said.

  “You saw,” she said.

  Again, Seldom giggled anxiously.

  “Why are you laughing?” the angry man asked.

  Using both hands, Diamond examined his mouth, his entire face. Fractures in the lower jaw had healed, teeth finding their way home. The shattered nose was whole again, and when he blew air through it, something that wasn’t blood or mucus slowly fell out of one nostril. A big yellowish glob of living tissue lay on the landing’s gray wood, and the three of them stared at it, watching it change shape and begin to slowly, slowly crawl, trying to make its way back to Diamond.

  Seldom scooted to the side in horror, and he cackled.

  “What is that?” Elata began.

  Diamond touched the living piece of himself, closing a hand tight around it. “Maybe it’s my brain,” he offered.

  She laughed in a sobbing, desperate way.

  The angry man now had a reason to step forward. Shaking his fist, he asked, “What’s so damn funny here? Was this some stupid joke?”

  From the back of the crowd, another man said, “I see the police. They’re coming.”

  Seldom quit laughing. “I don’t want to be in trouble.”

  “And I do?” Elata asked.

  But it was Diamond who stood up first. “I want to go.”

  The other two got to their feet, both asking, “Where?”

  “Home,” said Diamond.

  “You’re not leaving,” said the angry man, marching toward them. He had a shuffling gait and enormous hands that grabbed Seldom by the hair. “You faked this whole business, didn’t you? A practical joke, was it?”

  Seldom’s head was jerked back. “Hey,” he complained.

  Elata looked at Diamond. Then she turned and told their audience, “He’s fine. We’re fine. It was a joke. That’s all.”

  Glad to be proved right, the man let go of Seldom.

  Except now every adult was angry. Nobody was thankful that this gravely injured boy was standing and seemed to be healthy. They had been fooled. Their emotions had been played with, empathy and pity wasted on some trick that nobody could explain. But what reasonable explanation was there except that this was a stupid prank?

  Seldom rubbed his neck.

  Elata looked to her left and then her right.

  A small black blimp was descending. Two snarling horns sounded, alternating rapidly and with considerable importance.

  “What’s that?” Diamond asked.

  “The police,” said Seldom.

  Diamond didn’t understand what that meant, but his wasn’t good. Irate adults had formed a semicircle around them. Marduk stood at their backs, and there was no place to go. The self-appointed ruler of this mob continued glaring at these awful wild children, complaining about the slide of morality and the decay of what used to be a good honest society.

  Diamond stepped to one side.

  “Stop there,” the angry man warned.

  Elata looked at Diamond, smiling in an odd fashion, and reaching with both hands, she grabbed his fist.

  “Give that to me,” she said.

  He opened his hand.

  Then she told both of them, “Go left, as fast as we can.”

  The slug-like piece of Diamond had to be ripped off his palm. Then she tossed it underhand, dropping it on the old man’s face, and he grimaced and pulled it off, shouting obscenities as he flung the monstrosity down in disgust.

  Elata ran, one leg limping.

  Seldom was behind her, while Diamond was already in the lead.

  “Where?” Diamond asked.

  “Here,” she said. “Turn in.”

  A long and very tall curtain had been pulled open. Cut into the living wood was a tunnel—a long public avenue full of shops and restaurants and people busy with their still-young day. The sight of three running children wasn’t unusual. Someone warned they might be late for school, but nobody tried to stop them. They ran until Elata was sure nobody was following, and then she caught up to Diamond, using the last of her breath to say, “Stop now. Walk.”

  He nodded, slowed.

  Seldom stopped and bent over. “Wait, please,” he said.

  The other two stopped.

  “I can’t believe we fell that far,” he said. Then with a frightened, happy expression, he asked, “Did you see my landing? Not too bad, was it?”

  “Better than mine,” Elata said.

  Shoppers were filing past. The air was fragrant and sweet with cooking odors and morning fires smoking inside big grills. Diamond was instantly hungry. He had never been this famished, the sensation making him ache.

  Elata studied him.

  Seldom began to catch his breath, growing more scared as he felt better. “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Elata said.

  The boys looked at each other.

  “We need help,” she said.

  “My father,” Diamond began. “He would help us.”

>   “But we don’t know where he is,” she said.

  “Well, we can’t go back to my mother,” Seldom said.

  Elata didn’t mention her mother, not even to push the possibility aside.

  “I’m hungry,” Diamond announced.

  The others didn’t notice.

  The starving boy walked up to a vendor. Sticks of blackened meat and grilled fruit stood on a warming plate, begging to be eaten.

  Diamond reached for a stick.

  The vendor slapped the back of his hand, stopping a potential thief.

  Elata saw the drama. “What’s the matter?”

  “I have to eat,” Diamond admitted.

  “You really need to?’

  “Yes.”

  “How much?” she asked the vendor.

  The man showed his fingers and thumb.

  “I’ve got two,” she said, reaching into her trouser pocket.

  “Five,” the man repeated.

  “Help us,” she told Seldom.

  Her friend had a pocket full of coins. The five-spot was accepted, and Diamond grabbed up the stick, eating with big craving bites.

  Thinking about what had gone wrong and could still go wrong, Seldom watched the crowd moving past them. And then his face changed and he was laughing. Standing taller, he took time to relish this little dose of pleasure. And then he said, “I know where to go.”

  Elata asked, “Where?”

  He put his face close to hers. “School.”

  “Now?” Elata shook her head. “I’m not dressed, and what do about Diamond?”

  “Master Nissim,” Seldom said.

  She took a moment, considering.

  “If anybody,” he began.

  “Great. Let’s go.” Then she tugged at the strong, rebuilt arm. “We know somebody, Diamond. Somebody sure to help.”

  SIX

  They ran past shops and dozens of strangers and through the bright constant rattle of unfamiliar voices discussing more strangers and senseless topics. Running wasn’t work. Being swallowed up by oddities and puzzlements was work. Feeling weight on his shoulders and inside his heart, Diamond slowed his gait, and he tried to narrow his eyes, avoiding distractions. But the hallway’s left wall was littered with side tunnels reaching deep inside the tree, and there were chambers cut into both walls and unexplained doors that could stand open or closed and mysterious cavities where wooden people stood on pedestals, wearing colorful clothes and paint on their handsome faces.