by M Sawyer
What they whispered, no one could ever know.
Giving up on remembering and deciding there was no danger, Nolin approached the Claw Tree. At the base of the huge trunk, she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled into a soft bed of dead leaves underneath.
Nolin heard a sound like a sigh, and the roots around her seemed to move; the ground beneath her flexed ever so slightly. Then silence. Curious, Nolin waited to see if it would happen again. Seconds later, there was a soft whooshing sound like wind, and the ground inflated, raising her up an inch or two under the base of the tree.
Nolin filled her belly with air and felt it expand. A few seconds later, she heard a sound like an inhale. She let her air out.
Nolin’s fingers played in the leaves, burrowing as she dozed off. They closed around something small and soft that crumpled when she gripped it. She opened her eyes to examine the object in her hand. It was a tiny pink shoe made of yarn with three little roses on the toe. Something twitched in the back of her mind, a memory struggling to rise to the surface. Sleep overtook her before she could unearth it from the depths of a mental archive she no longer wanted.
The tree leaned, cradling her as she fell into a dreamless sleep.
***
If the trees could talk to her, they would have. “Do you know what this means?” They wished they could say. “Do you know what you are?”
Even if the trees could speak the language of humans, or even the language of goblins, Nolin wouldn’t have understood. Her broken mind had forgotten language, even the language of trees. She was, for all intents and purposes, an animal.
The trees nearly wept.
***
The Shadow slid through the darkness like liquid. Something was wrong. Nolin hadn’t gotten off the school bus, Paul hadn’t come home, and the air shimmered with excitement. Crickets chirped in the bushes. Fireflies twinkled. The woods sparkled with dew and insects creeping through the dirt and the wood.
Finally, the Claw Tree rose before her.
Her dark eyes scanned the edges of the clearing for movement or the glow of eyes in the darkness. Something was different. She slipped closer, closer, until finally, she crawled under the tree.
A pair of spindly legs tangled with her own. She tripped and caught herself on one of the thick roots. The intruder stirred and rolled toward her.
It was Nolin.
The Shadow crawled back between the roots, too excited to speak.
Nolin was here. She’d come on her own after all.
Had all these years of whispering through the tree, calling her into the forest, finally worked? The Shadow’s thoughts chased each other. She’d dreamed of this for years. Now she wasn’t sure how to proceed.
Nolin looked more peaceful in sleep than she ever had in her waking hours. Her face was relaxed, smooth as the inside of a seashell. Soft brown eyelashes curled from her closed eyes like tiny feathers. Her pale lips parted. Her chest rose and fell with gentle breath and her fingers curled softly against her cheek.
Leaves whispered in the canopy. A gentle breath of air moved through the woods and tousled Nolin’s mess of dark hair.
Nolin’s forehead wrinkled. With a gasp, her eyes snapped open, glowing like two fiery emeralds.
***
Wake up, the trees screamed.
A sharp, sour smell penetrated Nolin’s sleep. Her eyes burst open.
A pair of wide black eyes stared back at her, reflecting her own alarmed face.
Nolin screeched and swung her arm, catching a handful of tangled hair. The intruder darted out from under the tree before Nolin could get a good look. Nolin only saw a flash of pale legs as the figure silently leapt onto the giant tree and disappeared.
Nolin scrambled between the roots and looked up the trunk of the Claw Tree. The intruder was gone. She scanned the clearing around her. The woods remained silent and empty. She lifted her hand to her face and examined the coarse strands of long, dark hair between her fingers, then let them slide off her hand and drift to the ground. They were almost the same color as her own.
She didn’t notice the dark figure watching her from the canopy.
Senses narrowed, ears listening for the softest footstep, the tiniest rustle in the bushes. Her fingers curled like claws ready to tear through anything that dared to move.
She waited for any sound or scent, any sign of movement, ears pricked for the slightest rustle, the tiniest snap of a twig or click of stones shifting.
Eventually, the adrenaline drained from her veins and exhaustion overtook her again. Nolin stumbled off into the darkness in search of a safer place to sleep.
***
What’s wrong with her?
The Shadow waited in the upper branches of the Claw Tree, watching Nolin disappear into the night. She’d give her a safe distance before she followed.
Nolin was different—not the intelligent girl the Shadow had watched for years, but a mindless animal operating on instinct alone. Nolin’s eyes were fierce and wild, almost lacking human consciousness.
Had the woods changed her?
She’d spent most of a night under the Claw Tree, the tree of dreams and connection. Who knows what that could have done to her already-addled brain. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Yes, Nolin had come of her own choice, but how much control did she have? She had no idea what she was doing. The woods controlled her now; not just the nature around her, but the nature inside her.
When she could barely see Nolin through the tight gaps in the trees, the Shadow crept down to the ground, tiptoed across the clearing, and slipped through the trees, crouching low to avoid being seen. She’d follow Nolin and watch.
Nolin had to be aware. She had to choose.
Otherwise, the Shadow thought darkly, Nolin would be stolen.
The Shadow could never steal a child, even if that child never belonged to the humans in the first place. She’d be no better than the creatures who’d stolen her own life in the first place. She’d be as inhuman as they were.
***
Nolin sat cross-legged in the dirt, tugging squishy blackberries off a bush. The trees cut sunlight into slices, illuminating the forest with glowing shafts of light. A leaf spiraled down from the canopy and landed softly in the nest of Nolin’s hair.
The Shadow watched from a few dozen yards away, crouched behind a boulder.
This wasn’t right. It wasn’t working. Two days since Nolin had run away, and she showed no signs that she had any idea who she was or that it was unusual and dangerous for a ten-year-old girl to live in the woods alone. She’d had no trouble finding food or shelter. It was both fascinating and frustrating to watch.
So close. Nolin was here, in the woods, just as the Shadow had wanted for years, but she was an empty shell. She needed Nolin to be Nolin, not this animal. Even if the Shadow stepped out in full view, Nolin wouldn’t recognize her. She’d just be an ordinary threat in the woods like a bear or a hunter, and Nolin would react instinctively as an animal would: fight or flight. The Shadow had worked and hoped for this for years. She hadn’t counted on a psychotic breakdown or whatever had happened in Nolin’s mind. She’d wanted Nolin to come into the woods willingly, with full knowledge of what she was.
The Shadow wanted to scream with frustration, but she composed herself, regaining her grip on endless patience cultivated over years of waiting.
Then, she heard a man’s voice.
***
Nolin slipped another plump berry in her mouth, humming a tune her mind couldn’t recall but her voice still remembered. Her humming flowed into words.
“Rock-a-bye Nolin, in the tree tops,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
When the bow breaks, the cradle will fall...”
In her mind, a soft voice sang that song. It made her sleepy again. She closed her eyes and saw a woman’s face.
Where had she seen that face?
She remembered someone holding her and singing in a soft, heavy voice
.
”…and down will come Nolin, cradle and all.”
She felt relaxed for a moment. Then her shoulders tensed. Something was different.
A soft snap in the trees. A sapling shook.
Something was there.
Nolin sprang up and darted through the blackberry patch. Thorns tore at her shirt, scratched her feet and legs. Behind her, she heard voices.
Her heart tried to outrun the rest of her. She hadn’t been afraid when she’d woken to the dark eyes two nights ago. She wasn’t afraid at night when the woods were silent.
Now she was afraid.
A shout, this time to her left. She veered to the right to leap onto a mossy boulder, climbing over and dropping to the ground.
As she scurried to her feet, two strong hands clamped her arms to her side.
A voice spoke to her. The words were gibberish in her ears. She kicked and thrashed.
The trees watched in horror.
“I’ve got her!” The man called, struggling to restrain her. Nolin screamed and kicked at her attackers, hair falling over her face.
More men emerged from the bushes, speaking into beeping black boxes. Nolin filled her lungs and screamed, every nerve in her body vibrating. She twisted in the first man’s arms. The man in the red hat talked to her, frantically.
“It’s all right, it’s all right, calm down.”
It’s not, said the trees. It’s not all right.
No one but Nolin could hear them. There was only a gentle breeze.
The man touched Nolin’s face, brushing her hair away from her cheek. Nolin dug her teeth into his hand and held on.
The man shouted and swore. Nolin bit down harder, clenching her jaws until she tasted blood. He jerked his hand. She let go. He clutched his bleeding hand in his shirt and gaped at her in horror. “The little bitch bit me!”
Nolin tried to run. A man in a dark blue jacket rushed forward, diving to grab her around the legs. She shrieked and landed, hard. The man pinned her as she struggled, flailing her limbs, scratching, kicking. The man pressed her head into the dirt with his elbow shoved painfully into her back. She couldn’t move.
Chapter 16
MELISSA CRUMPLED INTO a heap in Paul’s lap, trembling. He wrapped his arms around her. Her breath escaped in husky whimpers. She cradled her head in her skeletal hands and rocked from side to side. Paul rubbed her back, whispering assurances.
“At least she’s safe,” Paul said, stroking her limp hair. “She wasn’t hurt. Just confused. They’ll take care of her, and she’ll be out of here in no time.”
Melissa opened her mouth to speak, but a choked sob burst out instead. She crossed her arms in front of her. Thoughts rocketed around inside her, colliding and spinning out of control.
She tried so hard. It was too much for her. I pushed her too much. She really hurt that boy; she could have hurt him worse. Now she’s locked up in here like me. What have I done?
“What if she doesn’t get better?” Melissa wheezed. She sat up. The shadows under Paul’s eyes and the red blotches on his cheeks told her he was thinking the same thing. He shook his head without looking at her. His shoulders twitched as if attempting an optimistic shrug. He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly.
“Nolin’s different,” Melissa mumbled.
Paul slumped forward and dropped his head in his hands. “Not this again.”
Hot anger shot through Melissa’s veins. Suddenly, she wanted to slap him. “No, Paul, listen to me. She’s not like other children.” Her voice rose, quivering with rage. “It might be dangerous for her here.”
“So what do you suggest we do?” Paul glared at her. “The last time I checked, you weren’t a doctor. Let them do their job.”
“They don’t know how to help her!”
“She’s sick!” he shouted. “So are you. Doctors help sick people. Let them figure it out. Do you think you know better than them?”
A male nurse walked in, pretending to read a form in the binder he carried. Paul didn’t notice.
“I don’t want to hear any more of this,” Paul said. “Can’t you hear how insane you sound? She’s not an animal, for hell’s sake. We can’t just release her into the wild like some bear cub. She’s a child, and she belongs with us, whether she wants to or not. She’s not leaving here until she understands that.”
“What if she never does understand?”
Paul shot to his feet like a firecracker and threw up his hands. He turned back to Melissa, his face red.
“You know, maybe you really are crazy. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, but two-thirds of this family is in a damn crazy house and I can’t do a thing about it!”
“Sir...” stammered the nurse, looking up from his binder.
“Stay out of this!” Paul said, thrusting a warning finger toward him. The nurse’s eyes grew wide. He rushed out the door and down the hall, calling for security.
Paul crossed to his wife and placed his hands on the bed on either side of her, leaning forward so their faces nearly touched.
“I’ve have done everything I can possibly do to hold this family together, and everything has gone to shit anyway. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.”
Melissa’s jaw stiffened. “You’re done,” she repeated tonelessly, glaring. Paul’s shoulders dropped, almost shrinking under her gaze, but he didn’t blink.
Two large men in white stepped into the room. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave immediately,” the taller one said.
Paul stepped backward toward the door, swaying on his feet and locking his eyes on his wife’s.
“I’ll leave. No problem; I’ll go right now.” He walked out the door. The two men followed. The timid male nurse slid back into the room.
Melissa propped her elbows on her knees and laid her head in her hands. She’d always known he would leave someday. No one could live with this burden. Her hands twitched. She couldn’t decide whether to sob in despair or scream in fury. She and her sick child, abandoned. She thought of her piles of jewelry she’d clung to for years. Tactile proof of his love. Evidence that he’d never leave her. In her mind, those jewels crumbled to dust and blew away like ashes. The only piece that remained was the clay bead necklace.
“I want to see my daughter,” Melissa said to the nurse. He smiled nervously and shifted his weight to his other foot.
“Um, I don’t think she’s allowed to have visitors right now.”
“I don’t care; I have to see her.”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, I could lose my job.”
“Then I’ll go myself.” Melissa stood up taller than she had in years and pushed past the nurse into the hall. He called after her as she marched toward the children’s ward. She ignored him and followed the directions posted on the walls. She listened to the rhythm of her feet on the floor, imagining each footstep crushing the fear that gnawed her from the inside out.
Mozart played softly from a room down the hall. Somewhere, a child sobbed. The walls in the children’s hall were sky blue instead of white. Bright crepe paper flowers decorated the doors. Melissa stopped in front of a door that only bore torn pieces of crepe paper stuck to loops of Scotch tape. The flowers had been ripped away.
She turned the handle and let herself in.
Two doctors crouched over the tiny figure in the bed. They looked over their shoulders at Melissa like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. One of the doctors clutched a clipboard in a thickly gloved hand. The other gripped the sides of Nolin’s head, holding her down. Her eyelids drooped and her mouth hung open; a shiny stream of saliva glistened on her chin. Melissa’s heart stopped. She could never have imagined her daughter looking so weak, so… defeated. The flat, pale-green eyes looked like two dull stones—no glint of intelligence. That spark of knowing had fled.
“Ma’am, you need to leave,” demanded the doctor with the clipboard. Melissa didn’t look away from Nolin, all she had left. She stood still in the doorway.
; “Ma’am, visitors aren’t allowed in here.”
“I’m her mother.”
“Yes, but you’re also in a hospital, and you have rules you must follow. Return to your room, or I’ll have to call security.”
The nurse poked his head into the room, breathless. “I’m sorry, Doctor,” he wheezed. “I tried to stop her.”
“Go get security,” the first doctor ordered. The nurse nodded and skittered off in the direction from which he’d come.
Melissa lumbered into the room. Nolin’s eyes rolled in their sockets like a frightened animal’s. A soft moan escaped her open mouth.
“What the hell have you done to her?” Melissa’s voice shook with rage.
The doctor stepped closer and reached out his hand, maybe trying to calm her. The other doctor released Nolin and twisted on his stool, his eyes larger than life behind his thick spectacles.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the first doctor said calmly. “You don’t want to see your daughter like this. She’s very sick.”
“You people don’t know how to help her,” Melissa spat. “You and your needles. You can’t do anything except pump her full of sedatives till she’s a damn vegetable!”
“Ma’am, I’ve warned you. You need to leave.” The doctor slowly placed the clipboard on the counter. The other stood up. Melissa took a step backward.
“You can’t help her!” she shrieked, pointing to Nolin, who moaned again. “She’s different!”
Melissa had no idea what those chemicals could do to Nolin, and she didn’t want to find out.
The doctor’s eyes traveled from Melissa to a point over her shoulder. The same two men in white appeared behind her. She jerked away from them.
The other doctor caught her and clamped her arms to her sides. The men in white stepped into the room, their mouths opening and closing. Melissa heard no words, only the soft moans from the girl in the bed. Melissa twisted and jerked as the men in white took her from the doctor’s hold. She shoved her shoulder into the wide chest, stomped on a large foot. The man only grunted and nodded to the doctor. Melissa screamed at the pinch in her neck. The scream trickled away like a dried-up river. Her legs slackened. She moaned as she tried to call to Nolin. A strong arm around her waist dragged her from the room. She watched the crepe paper flowers on the passing doors. The colors blurred together until she forgot that those flowers weren’t real.
