Tree of Life

by Sarah Joy Green-Hart

  BANG.

  A collective shriek flew skyward. Some in the town circle dropped to the ground, others remained standing, watching. A few children cried. The concern passed over like the swoop of a bat. Then nothing. No outrage. No yelling. No one ever did anything.

  Having LEWs was better than not having LEWs. That’s what drunk bar philosophers who’d lost hope said.

  Just be good. Stay out of trouble, and you don’t have to worry about the Kyrios, the military, the LEWs. Nothin’.

  Yeah, right.

  Jes’ heart froze and broke into pieces as the old man’s blood stained and melted the dirty slush beneath him. A familiar heaviness crept into his thoughts and sat on his chest.

  "You killed him!” His body burned, and the bear paw glowed beneath his skin, a swirling liquid flame.

  Warden Cadence stepped backward. "My finger slipped. I swear it.”

  The catsup bottle LEW backed away and pointed. "Charles, look at his arm!”

  "Butcher! I’ll kill you!” Jes shouted. Tears boiled over and traced a cold path down his cheeks.

  Two more LEWs arrived, holding onto the girl—cuffed this time.

  Warden Cadence’s confidence returned. He smiled. "Ah, there she is. Great. That didn’t take too long. A few unexpected casualties, but we’re in good shape, gentlemen.” He eyed the girl, then turned to Jes. “I have an execution here, then we can be on our way.”

  Catsup bottle LEW spoke up. “We need to keep this guy. They might want to run him by the Kyrios. He’s got something supernatural going on.”

  * * *

  They tossed the girl’s violated, beaten body into the wild river. They gave Jes a good roughing up, but he still had use of his limbs. A symptom of the LEWs’ remaining humanity, maybe.

  Whatever happened, he couldn’t go to the Kyrios. He’d rather follow that girl into the river than face those butchers.

  Hanging his head, slumped over, bloody, bruised, and cuffed, they underestimated his will to live and his willingness to die.

  While they took turns lighting their cigarettes with a single lighter, Jes stomped on the foot of the LEW standing near him and threw himself into the water, giving himself to its merciless current.

  He’d survived worse.

  Twenty | Post-Conquest: 232

  Wide-eyed, a beardless Adahy stared down at Hesper, his face blue with moonlight. As he moved, wood smoke and fragrant spices escaped his hide clothes and whirled over her face.

  Where was she? She propped herself on her elbow. Was he saying her name? Blinking her thoughts clear, she stared at him, understanding nothing until he said, "Let’s go!”

  "What are you talking about? Why are you here?”

  "Getting out—you really should lock your door. David and I will keep an ear open for any word of retribution against your people. We’ll move your community to safety. I’ll explain the mark to your family.”

  She scoffed. "Move an entire community for me? Papa would never take me back. I will never be able to get married—”

  Cole waved her words away. "There are more liberal, understanding communities, Hesper. Very few, but they exist. I’m going to get you out of here at least, even if you don’t go to your family.”

  "Does David know you are doing this?”

  "What does that matter?”

  Was that supposed to make the question go away?

  He huffed. "Yes. It was his idea.” A pause. "After I . . . gave it to him.”

  "It is irrational,” she said. "I refuse to go.”

  "Are you crazy, Hesper? You have no idea how difficult it is to get this kind of courage from that dolt,” Cole cried. He grabbed her wrist. "It may never happen again.”

  Why would he touch her that way? Oh, right, because he was Meros. She pulled against him and scowled. "I have seen enough death for one day.”

  He bit his fist and growled into it. "No one is going to die.” He tossed a pair of gloves and hide clothes from his bag onto the bed. "Put this on. You’ll need it to climb over the fence.”

  "You cannot do this.”

  "Excuse me? Don’t tell me what I can—” He bit his fist again, then, with a quieter, calculated tone, he said, "Please, don’t tell me what I can’t do.” At the side of her bed, he knelt and took her hands. "If you won’t stay, at least allow me to take you to say goodbye. I will do this for you for no other reason than that I love you. I’m not asking anything of you but trust.”

  Trust? What trust? "Earlier, I was grieving and shocked. You were familiar and a comfort, but—” She pulled her hands away.

  "This might be one of your greatest regrets if you don’t come with me right now,” Cole said.

  Tempted, at first, to spit his words back at him, ignore it all, and deny the veracity of his claim, she scowled, then swallowed. He was right. She might regret this forever. Regret if she did, regret if she did not.

  She growled. "Very well. Wait outside while I change.”

  He smiled and looked so much like Adahy, even without the beard, that it made her throat tight. Quick as a rabbit, he zipped out the door.

  "This is foolish.”

  The leather trousers felt so good around her legs. She tightened them with the cords at the side and folded the hem. She opened the door and peeked into the hallway.

  Empty.

  Voices strained through the walls and space. Light on bare feet, she hurried down the hall and stairs to the foyer.

  "Who’s there?” Cole interrupted David mid-sentence.

  "Hesper.”

  "Thank God,” David whispered. "Hurry up, or you’ll return in broad daylight.”

  Cole darted for the dining room. "Let’s go.”

  "Hesper,” David called in a quiet voice, though not a whisper.

  Turning, she got a face-full of his chest as he pulled her in for a tight hug—a warm and comforting spot of sunlight after a swim in her dark conscience. Planted in one spot, his hands never roamed, but tightened and loosened gently over and over as if trying to get her closer by renewing his hold.

  "Don’t let them tell you that you’re impure. You are beautiful and loyal, and I consider you one of the few truly holy things I’ve encountered in my life. I won’t forget you, dear girl. Forgive me if I have caused you distress in any way. We’ll work it out here if you stay with your family—and I believe you should.” A few moments passed in his gentle swaying embrace.

  She did not want to let go.

  "Say! You’re hugging me back.” A smile filled his voice. "Forget the white cloth with your tears, I’ll treasure this forever.”

  Even if the Unified allowed her to live with her family, she would never be held this way again. No one would marry her or call her holy—whatever that was. Something good? She was a silly person, aching to have things she did not even understand. Comfort and light seemed wrapped up in the sound of ‘holy,’ though. It felt nice.

  Knowing that, she could not muster resentment for the pleasant feeling and David’s mysteriously worded affections. This had to be the reason the Unified considered compliments and touch outside of marriage to be dangerous inhibitors to unity. It had the power to turn her into a selfish, hormonal mess. The Unified would never survive if they permitted this kind of attention to individuals on a regular basis. The community would suffer for the individual. Hence the reason selfish, faithless stigs damaged Unified communities.

  If the Kyrios caught David and Cole helping her escape, not only David and Cole would suffer, but her entire community.

  All for her?

  She was not the most important thing—only in her mind.

  David released her.

  With a willful shake of her head, she said, "I want to be the light that shines through the leaves. Not the darkness in between. Staying there would be the worst way to end this string of foolish choices, but my mama deserves a goodbye.”

  Hesper joined Cole in the dining room. They sneaked out the back door and slipped into the misty night. Concealed by the flo
wers, they crawled along the garden path until it ended a few yards away from Jade’s smoking pyre.

  "We have to wait for the south guard and the west guard to be farther away,” Cole said. He dug another hide from his bag and shoved it in his belt. With a quick whip of the head to the left and the right, he started forward. "Run,” he whispered.

  On light feet, they ran to the fence. Cole swiftly scaled the links, pulled the hide from his belt, and threw it over the thorny wire. He used one hand to beckon for Hesper to follow, then hoisted himself over the wire and landed softly on the other side. Hesper followed and brought the hide with her as she dropped to the ground. They fled into the darkness of uninhabited woods, not even fifty yards south of the base, and ran within its borders, leaving it in favor of the road once out of sight of the guards.

  Within minutes, Hesper’s breaths came short. Her strong legs could not keep up with her lungs as deep weariness settled into her body.

  "What’s wrong?” Cole slowed his pace.

  "I am hungry and tired.”

  "Here.” He dug in his bag and drew out a pouch of nuts and offered them. "Let’s walk while you eat,” he said. "You’ve been missing meals and not sleeping properly. Not to mention the emotional exertion you’ve endured.”

  She slipped an almond in her mouth and looked up.

  Stars.

  How beautiful they were, like small, white snowflakes stuck in the sky.

  "I have not gotten to see them uncovered until now. We can stand at the edge of the forest and look if we are brave, but, well, you know how much I have wanted to see them this way.” She whispered, "The sky goes forever. It feels safe.”

  Cole never stopped scanning the area, visibly alert and tensed. "Hm? What does?”

  "The sky. The stars.”

  She had his attention now. "The stars. I didn’t think of that.” A half-smile softened the tension in his face. "You’re seeing them in the open.” He looked upward. “They make me feel I’m with God, somehow. How is it that they make you feel safe?”

  "It is a big black blanket. What is beyond them?”

  He chuckled. "Science isn’t our expertise. Some say our souls go beyond the stars when our bodies are burned with the death-light, but even your ancestors never made it that far. They imagined it, though! Centered much of their entertainment around the idea of traveling from galaxy to galaxy. Far beyond any reality they actually lived. Before The Conquest destroyed everything, they made it to the moon and a few planets.” He must have sensed her stare, because he turned to look at her, too. "You should see the aurora borealis in the northern country. That breaks a heart in the sweetest way.”

  What was sweet about a breaking heart?

  "We are going much too slowly for my sake.”

  * * *

  Entering the forest, Hesper breathed in the aroma: wood, leaves, dirt, and pine. No perfume or incense could ever duplicate this perfect blend of peace and nostalgia.

  The Unified buried their loved ones here. These trees grew healthy and strong because her people gave back to the earth in their death. Nothing flew away beyond the stars. Everything remained in the soil to nourish future generations.

  She also met her first Meros here.

  "Cole.”

  "Yes?”

  "Why are you doing this? Truly.”

  "I love you, and I owe it to you.”

  "Because you lied to me?”

  He balked at the title given to his deed.

  "You do not think you lied? Call it deception, call it treachery, but call it a lie, and you are offended? It was only business, right? Nothing personal,” she said. "It was personal to me, sir.”

  He scratched at his jaw and sighed. "Yes,” he said, "because I lied.” Only a shadow spoke. Nothing more. Perhaps it was best that way.

  "Remember Joram? Remember Papa? Papa did nothing to help his dying son. I cannot stay, Cole. Even if it is the right thing to do.”

  "Hesper, Joram was a true traitor, or at least an Earth Person. I knew him, and your papa was right, even if cruel.”

  "You knew him?” So many hard thoughts too quickly. "Does betrayal ever run shallow, sir, or is it always deeper than expected?”

  He grunted a little. "Betrayal runs as deep as the roots, Hesper. Sometimes it’s farther than you can dig, and sometimes it’s shallow and edible. Pull it up, recognize the root, and eat it. It’s all a matter of perspective and type.”

  "I do not understand.”

  "That’s okay. You have more important things to be concerned with.”

  Beneath the familiar branches of Hesper’s tree, Cole leaned against the trunk. "Do whatever you need to. I’ll wait.”

  She grasped the branch—rough and solid. It had its place and was not capable of doubting its integrity and purpose like she was. How precious a branch felt.

  She pulled herself up and climbed into the good, warm loft. "Mama,” she whispered.

  Someone stirred in the darkness.

  "Oh, Hesper.” Mama scrambled and stumbled but finally reached Hesper and wrapped her arms around her. "Where have you been? You smell of fruit.”

  Mama smelled of wood smoke, dirt, and wild carrot. Childhood.

  "I cannot stay.”

  "Avriam!” Mama stroked Hesper’s face. "Wake up. Hesper is home.”

  A long silence. Hesper and Mama did not need to talk about the reason because they both understood. Hesper felt it.

  "Papa is asleep. He worked hard today,” Mama said.

  Papa was awake, choking on his pride.

  "Mama, goodbye,” Hesper said. "I love you. If I stay, people will die. Too many.”

  Mama grew stern. "Goodbye? You belong here.”

  "The Meros have marked me, Mama.” Hesper cringed.

  Mama released her. "What do you mean they marked you?” Her fingers stroked Hesper’s cheek. "You will not dare to take my last child from me.”

  "Mama, I—”

  "No. Stay.” Mama’s dear, raspy hands took Hesper’s. "We will do something about the mark.”

  "It will be there forever, Mama. It does not go away.”

  "Avriam, come out and demand your daughter stay!” Mama’s voice broke. Silence followed. "Avriam!” she sobbed. "Your last child will be gone forever!”

  "Enough!” Papa croaked.

  Mama squeezed Hesper. "Your Papa does not mean it.”

  "Kind, wealthy people care for me. I am not being hurt or beaten. I will be okay. I love you, Mama.” Without another word, Hesper pulled out of Mama’s arms and slid through the hatch, down to the branches.

  "Hesper!” Mama cried. "Hesper, no!”

  Weak in her knees, Hesper leaned against the trunk beside Cole. "We must go. Now,” she whimpered. She pushed herself away from the tree and forced her feet onward, almost walking into him.

  "Hesper, stay,” he said. "This community needs you. They will adapt. You may be the reason they grow open to women returning. You could be a part of ending the stigma.”

  They were wasting time. Why did he insist?

  "I will get out of your life and never return.” He thrust an arm out to stop her from going around him. "You won’t have to go on pretending to love me or marry me. I won’t do that to you.”

  "That is not the problem, sir. Marrying you would be less of a shame than backing out of a marriage agreement. Stop harassing me about it. I have told you my reasons. Move your arms.”

  His disapproval came through in the sound of his breathing. "I can’t see your face, but I hear your determination.”

  That settled it. If she pruned impossible hopes and wishes, maybe she would produce the fruit of peace and life.

  Hesper savored the crunch of the forest floor beneath her feet and took each breath with the intention of imprinting the scent in her mind. Her fingers grazed the rough trees as she passed. At the edge of the forest, she wrapped her arms around a birch and pressed her cheek against its coarse, thick body. "I miss the feeling.” She closed her eyes. "The peaceful trembling i
nside of me when I am with the trees.” The moment of severance had come. With a kiss, she released the birch and stepped onto the grass. Life in the forest ended now.

  * * *

  "Fold my hides and put them under your bed. I’ll get them sometime tomorrow.”

  Angry, Cole charged ahead to get to his rooms and cool down. Instead of parting from him as they approached the staircase into the upper hallway of rooms, Hesper stayed at his side until they reached his wing.

  "Is there anything else I can do for you, Hesper?”

  "Cole, have I done the wrong thing? Anise told me to look for the light in my mind when I came here. I am trying to apply this poetry in a realistic way. I feel I am, but hearing Mama’s tears—”

  "Hesper, only you can decide if you’re doing the best thing. I just hope you’re doing the best thing for you. Sometimes . . . Sometimes you have to do what is right for you and let everyone else work around it. Your life is just as important as mine or David’s . . . or even Theia’s. There’s often more than one right choice.”

  "I am afraid. I am afraid to marry David. I am afraid to live here. I have so much fear.”

  "Shine that light on it.” He pointed to her head and smiled. "Light is good for relieving fear. You’ll be okay.”

  He bowed as a farewell and turned to go.

  "Wait.”

  The "wait” could mean so many things, but Cole’s heart rate accelerated, and his breath quickened in spite of knowing that.

  "It has been hinted at that David does not require anyone to have a sexual relationship with him. Is that true?”

  That was unexpected.

  He shrugged. "I don’t ask him about his private affairs unless they involve me somehow. But even in his wilder times, he never was the type of man to force a woman into that kind of activity. He didn’t need to. Why? Has he done something to make you uneasy about the idea?” If he so much as put his lips on her—

  "No. No. To the contrary, he has alleviated some of my fears, but if I chose to have that kind of relationship with him, and I became pregnant?”

  This would make for a terrible rest of Cole’s life. He’d look for a transfer to another base or apply for a permanent position in a university as soon as possible, but first, to give her the facts she needed to brace herself. Uncomfortable as it was, her question was reasonable and necessary, and she, for whatever reason, wanted the truth from him. He owed her.