Sequoia — ALGA — Pinon
We call it Place my mother died.
I knew it would happen but I didn't know how scared I'd feel when it did. I was sad, but not as sad as everyone thought I should be. I had to remember to be sad every now and then.
She's dead. My mother is dead. Has been dead for months, news being what it is. It didn't even come in code as it was supposed to, because someone else found her body. My father had kept it a secret, not even sending a message to me. So all this time I've been thinking of her alive, she's been dead.
Poor Dad. Well, partly poor Dad. He'll be sad, but he's free, now. He can be admired without her putting him down. He can be the best birthman there ever was, do his job without feeling guilty.
I'm so scared, though. They will find out she was sick and they'll want to treat me. I don't want to be treated. No, I don't.
The locals ask, "What did she die of? What happened?" I told the children that she was careless, always having accidents. I didn't mention sickness. The thing is, Dad as the birthman is the one who will say how she died. It will only be if someone else looks hard, looks for signs. If they cut her up and look inside, then they will know.
I hope they don't do that. She would hate to be cut up.
Another messenger came, wearing another flower necklace. This doesn't happen often. It had to be bad news, and it was.
Is it always like this? People dying all at once? We just heard that Thea is dead. I wasn't sad about Thea, but I do feel kind of sorry for her. I don't know if she could help the way she was, but I know she was lonely and no one liked her. It would be hard to have no one like you.
This time it was the teachers asking all the questions. How did she die? What happened?
The messenger said there had been an accident, that she had been cooking and the oven's frame collapsed, crushing her.
"What was she cooking?" Lillah said. We all know Thea hated to cook. Hated the smell of cooking food, so either she was forced to cook or it was all a lie.
The worst thing oh my Tree Lord I can't believe what has happened. Why didn't I make Rham walk with me, or get her to help cook or something, why did the teachers let her dig in the sand?
It started like fun. We decided to make a cave in the sand. It was partly showing off to the other kids but we wanted to do it anyway.
We took it in turns digging. Not the locals; they watched as we worked hard.
Rham directed everybody. She's not bossy; she just knows the right thing to do.
We climbed in and it was a good cave. "I'll go get us something to drink," I said. Only two at a time allowed in. I climbed out, don't take my spot, I said, that's my spot, my turn. I built it, it's my spot.
I ran to get some water, but coming back…coming back the children were screaming, adults were digging.
"Rham!" I shouted. If I shouted loud enough I thought she'd come out.
They lifted her out. I have never seen anything worse than Rham coming out of the sandcave. Her face covered in it, her eyes bulging. Lillah ran to me and tried to hide my face but I pushed her away. I could not pretend. Rham, Rham…it could have been me. If I'd been in there I could have covered her with my body, kept the sand off her face.
"I should be dead," I said, and it was loud, I said it very loudly.
Rham. Rham. I loved you.
She always said that if you think quickly you can get out of trouble. Thought didn't help her here, did it?
Melia just told us she will stay in Alga. No surprises there. Lillah seemed angry and sad, both things together, and I don't know what to say to her. I wish I was more grown-up. They have fresh water here, sweet and clean. This was always going to be Melia's place.
I hate her. I hate her hate her hate her hate her. She never loved us, never loved Rham.
Alga — PINON — Arborvitae
We call it Things Hanging Place.
I am thirteen years old.
Sometimes the child has to be the grown-up. I was sad about Rham and frightened about my mother, but Lillah was a mess. She keeps saying, "I'm fine, I'm fine," but she's lying. I worried about her. I guess Melia staying behind didn't help, and also Lillah must feel guilty about Thea, even though it was not her fault and she was kinder than anyone to that teacher.
Phyto talks a lot, makes us talk. We talked about Rham and her wonderful brain and all the things we did together. We talked a bit about my mother. He asked me about memories from when I was little but she wasn't that kind of mother.
I was feeling better when we approached Pinon and saw something terrifying.
Oh, my Tree Lord, can you believe what is hanging there? Do they want us to run away? Die? It's horrible, a hanging, rotted man which means who knows. It was horrible and I imagined myself there when they find out my mother died sick.
Tamarica said, "I suppose it's a warning against sick people. I hope this isn't what sort of people they are."
We are all so upset. Phyto said he will come into Pinon with us. He is nervous about how they will act towards him.
The people of Pinon came to greet us and they were very generous, giving us smoothstones, small carved boats, dolls made of bark.
They embraced Phyto without caring why he was walking. He told them where he was headed. "That's not as good as here!" they said. "This is the best place on the island. Don't you know how safe and comfortable we are?"
I think of Rham all the time. I am far sadder about her than anyone else. I also miss Melia, because she always answered questions. She didn't care how many you asked. And she was strong. Much stronger than Lillah. Full of truth. Lillah is not full of truth. She's full of pretend.
I woke up feeling really sick, like someone had poured sludgy seaweed down my neck while I slept. I tried to curl up and go back to sleep but no, I had to wake up, breakfast, you can't miss breakfast, you'll offend the chief.
He thinks the dawn meal should be shared by everyone or the day will bring bad luck. Too bad if you wake up with a belly full of sea sludge.
"You're sick?" one of the locals said. "I'll show you where sick people go."
I didn't want to see it.
"There," he said. The Tree Limb hung out over barren ground. Nothing grew there because the blood spilled was tainted, they said.
"If you're sick, we'll hang you from the Tree. Cure you." He shoved his face right up close to mine so I could smell his smoky, stinky breath.
"I'm fine."
"You are."
I didn't tell Lillah about feeling sick, or what I'd seen. She has enough to worry her.
We'll celebrate Oldnew Day here. Time already.
There's something about Oldnew Day. It's chance and possibility. The past year becomes the past year and stays there. All things that happen are in the past, and we can begin to forget them.
They have a huge stone slab here. It's so big our whole school could lie on it together. Not the teachers.
What happens is, we sleep outside as Old year becomes New, and what we dream will be our future.
I asked the teachers what they had dreamed when they had stayed here with their schools. Most of them had not stayed during Oldnew Day, but Lillah had. She said she'd hated it, because she couldn't remember her dreams and the teachers shouted at her. She said she would not shout at us if we didn't remember our dreams.
Phyto remembered that he had dreamed of a white sea bird, which flew into the sun to collect some fire and bring it back to Botanica.
The people told us that some die of their nightmares. That they sleep and do not wake. This I believe, but I will be strong with my dreams and not allow any death stuff in there.
Some of the others were scared of the stone and what the dreams will show. Not me. I wanted to know what my dream, my future, would be. I didn't want to ignore it. I wanted to know it.
In the end I dreamed I stood at the top of the Tree and looked out at the ocean, water all around.
Others, I think, lied about their dreams, because they were fu
ll of fear, wealth and action and why would they dream all that and I dream so peacefully?
The other children's dreams made them nervous and when a storm came they were sure they saw the Sea Monster.
It's just big waves, I told them. They were too busy crying to listen. I looked at the huge crashing waves and they were scary. The thought of being out there, drowning, frightened me, but it was no sea monster.
Pinon — ARBORVITAE — Aspen
We call it Rock Wall Place.
The teachers were sad to leave Pinon, but it didn't worry me. I liked it there, and the people didn't question or seem to know who I am. That's good. I'm no one important.
Phyto liked being in Pinon. Now he seemed quiet and sad. Not healthy. He tried to show us children a good face, but I saw through to what he was really feeling. I felt like it myself a lot of the time. Loneliness. It makes you feel ill to see people together and you are not part of it. The longer it lasts, the worse it gets, until you are too frightened to speak for fear of people not hearing you.
A lot of people in Arborvitae can't hear at all. You can say anything to them and they can't hear it. They can figure out what you say but not if you turn your back to them.
This means it is quiet at here. The kids don't say anything and they don't mind being told what to do. That's good.
Their rock wall is amazing.
It took them five years to make and it is four, five times taller than the tallest adult. It is strong. The base is as wide as two adults standing with arms stretched and the rocks are placed so carefully none of them wobble. Zygo loved it, climbing up and down, up and down, showing us how strong he is. Boring. Very boring. I went up once but it took me a long time and I felt like I would fall off at the top.
"Weak!" Zygo called up. "Would you like me to come up and rescue you?"
It reminded me of the time Zygo climbed the Tree and a lower branch cracked off. That time, Thea said, "Jump! I'll catch you!" but when he jumped, she stood back with her arms folded. Let him crash to the ground. Lillah didn't believe us when we told her but the other teachers kind of did. Not that they did anything.
I am getting used to the way they don't talk much in Arborvitae. I like it. They use their faces to tell you things, and their hands. It is peaceful. One thing they do here is to decide what to do depending on how a bunch of sticks fall. They drop the sticks then say, "Well, they fell evenly so that means the fishing will be good today. We will go fishing." But I could see that they read the sticks in a way which suited them. It was such a trick. I didn't bother telling anyone. So they're not going to let the sticks say, "Let Morace rule." They'll read them a different way. They already know what they want the sticks to say. At least it helps them to decide, I suppose. Be clear.
The only really bad thing about here is that they have a woman in a cage out at sea. They won't say what she did wrong. But she looks terrible and sad and looks like she's dying. Why would they do such a thing? She can't have done anything that bad. It makes us cry to look at her.
All of us are upset by her. She cries and calls in a salty, dry voice. We have seen so much since we left Ombu, but this seems unfair. The teachers ask questions, which they rarely do, and they want answers. Why this woman has affected us all this way I don't know. We have seen so much.
Maybe this we think we can change. The teachers talk talk talk. Borag says it is because they didn't save Rham. They want to save this woman instead.
They let the woman go today. Took her out of the water. O my Tree Lord, what a terrible sight. Borag was sick in the Tree roots. We all felt bad. I couldn't go near her. I've never smelt anything so bad. And I think the teachers were disappointed with the way she acted. Because they saved her but she didn't say, "Oh, thank you for saving me. I will have a good life." She acted as if they hadn't done anything.
Adults like to be thanked. I've noticed that.
I hope my mother didn't smell bad when she died.
Arborvitae — ASPEN — Sargassum
We call it Place of Too Much.
Zygo and I ran ahead, wanting to see Phyto, tell him about the woman in the cage and her feet and what she said.
The others were still in sight but way behind when Zygo said, "Where is he?"
I remembered how Phyto had been after we left Pinon, lonely and not as happy to be with us.
"Maybe he walked on?" I said.
"He wouldn't leave us." Zygo shook his head and pushed me, as if it were my fault.
It was true, though. Phyto had walked on. The teachers told us. "You'll see him when you reach Osage," Lillah said. She seemed very happy and relaxed.
"You didn't love him. You don't care that he's gone," I said to her.
"I do care. That's how I know he needed to walk ahead. He was really sad about not being able to see you for a while. You'll see him when you
reach Osage."
"Why didn't he say goodbye?"
"That would be too sad for him. He might change his mind. He might end up hating us for slowing him down."
The sand is squeaky here. When you run it's like you're treading on a noisy little bird.
I want to run but I feel like there are growths in my elbows and knees. It feels like they are losing their bendiness. I haven't told Lillah though I'm sure she knows.
I'm trying to pretend I am fine. And the other children complain of aches and pains, and Musa says, "Your skin is growing faster than your bones and the bones are stretching to fit."
But I'm different.
Lillah gives me small pebbles to suck, to stop me feeling ill.
Zygo found where they stored their sweet cakes and while the teachers were occupied we stole them and ate as many as we could. I really felt sick after that. Didn't want to eat for a day.
They play a tube here that they call a flute. It sounds very peaceful, makes you calm down when you hear it. Musa said we should try to learn how to play and how to carve the instrument.
Borag and I really wanted to, but Zygo and the others didn't. They were too busy playing.
Before we started to learn, we had to wash.
My Mother didn't like to wash. She said your skin shed itself naturally and that washing removed too many layers of skin at once. She said clean people got sick much more easily.
The flute was hard to play but I could make a few nice notes before long. I went to show Lillah and she said, "Let's climb to that branch, and you can play for me there." She sometimes does things like that. There was a ghost cave up high, with a salty, wet smell. Lillah hated it. The smell made her shudder.
"There's nothing to be scared of," I said.
"How do you know?"
I didn't. But I wanted to go inside, see what was there, and wanting to know beat being scared of something.
It was nice sitting up there with her. Of course, as soon as some man comes along she forgets me and goes off with him as if I never existed.
Aspen — SARGASSUM — Gulfweed
We call it the Burning Place.
When we got to Sargassum, I thought we were caught, that someone had found out I was sick and my mother died of Spikes and they were going to treat me, because there was a person watching us running in. But it was someone like Lillah, a teacher, and they knew each other from when they walked at school. She helped us. I hope I have a friend like that one day. Her name was Nyssa and I thought she was very pretty. She was so pretty I didn't want to talk to her in case I sounded like a fool.
She took us into the community and we had a very good time. The food was nice and the people were friendly and everyone seemed to relax.
Nyssa and Lillah talked like chirping birds at each other. How did they understand each other? I have no idea.
Then she told us, "We have a very special woman here. She sees past, present and future all in one. She is very old. Some say as old as the Tree itself, but she says she is only an old woman, not an ancient one."
We slept – Nyssa said we had to – then went to see this old woman.<
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The old woman… Nyssa, Lillah's friend, had warned me about how the old woman would look. Very burnt and scarred. She didn't look as bad as I thought she would, when I saw her. She was very kind. Her name was Maringa. She said that she knew who we were and what we were dong. She knew the future and it was scary. And she told Lillah we had to do a most wonderful thing.
Go into the Tree.
I don't trust anyone but I want to go into the Tree. I've always wanted to go into the Tree.
Walking the Tree Page 42