The school would leave after the arrival of the next messenger. It was good to go out fully informed, and he would bring news from Laburnum that might be useful to them as they travelled.
He came late in the night, and his news was not important enough to wake them. In the morning they gathered to hear word of a new batch of perfume being completed, and of a school on the way containing a child who could scream so loudly the cups would shatter.
"None of our children will behave like that," Lillah said. "Ours will be a joy to look after, and the messengers will run ahead shouting, 'Oh, you should see these children! These children are the most beautiful you've ever seen.'"
"Why do you always have to be the best, Lillah? Sometimes we can just be, you know. We don't have to be known as the best school ever."
"You may not, Melia, but I do. You ask your questions; I'll be proud of what I do."
The messenger was sent back with the clay pots Lillah's Order specialised in, to hold the perfume. In the next Order, where they made jasmine oil, the pots were well respected too.
The night before they left, the Order gathered for a party. The celebration turned rowdy. Raucous laughter, shocking stories. Lillah felt light-headed. Queasy. She walked away from the group to give herself some space.
"Who's there? Who is it?" she heard.
"It's me, Tilla. It's Lillah. Your rhyming friend."
The Bark of the Tree was very dark, mottled in places. Sometimes Bark shed like dried flakes of skin from the scalp. Tilla's face, old and lined, reminded her of the bark.
"Good. Come and tell me what's going on."
Lillah had not forgotten how poorly he had treated her in the Tree Hall, but she walked towards his voice, squinting in the moonlight. She found him sitting on a jutting rock, his fat walking stick resting beside him, his old legs dangling down.
"However did you get up there, Tilla? You can't manage to fish or wash, but you can climb onto a giant rock."
Tilla snickered. The sound gave Lillah the giggles. Most people laughed loudly, mouths wide open. "I am the watcher, looking out for secrets. I climb where I can. What's going on over there?"
"Why don't you come and see?"
"Hah! Expect me to talk to those fools?"
"You'll have to talk to somebody some time."
"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"
"Yes, but Tilla, I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm going away with the school."
Tilla choked and Lillah stepped closer, thinking he had swallowed a night bug.
"Tilla? Are you all right?"
He was crying. Tears trickled down his old face and he didn't wipe them away.
"Why do they send our best to die?"
"I won't die. I'll find my partner. I'll send news back with the school."
"They won't be back. They never come back. Haven't you noticed? They go away to die." Lillah realised that was why he had been so hard on her earlier, in her teacher interview.
"Oh, my Tree Lord, Tilla," she said. "You went yourself. Don't you remember?"
"I remember a strange dream a long time ago, that's all."
He gazed out to sea. "The shore gets smaller every year. I can see it. Every year the Trunk gets thicker and thicker. It won't be long before the beach is gone altogether. The pot my ancestor buried for my inheritance is covered, now, by the Tree. I'll never get to it."
He looked up the Tree. "There's stories up there long forgotten. Lost. No lesson learnt."
"You still remember a lot of it. And the younger men are learning it. Some of our people tried living in the Tree, you know. Many years ago. But it went wrong, very wrong. They could not put their babies down, you know. Not even to sleep. This is not the way a person should be. A person needs to sleep alone at times."
He scrabbled in his pocket. "Here," he said. "Tell them to bury this with you. At least they'll know where you came from."
He handed her a flat rock. She could feel that it was etched but couldn't see the design.
"Look at it tomorrow," he said. "Go now, I'm tired."
"Will you tell me just one story? One I can share with the children on a lonely night between Orders?"
"I'm tired." But he smiled at her; he loved to tell stories. "I'll tell you about a time when the canopy was not so vast. When we could stand at the water's edge and receive sun all the time, not just when there has been Leaffall. Every year we lose more sunlight as the Tree grows and casts more shadow."
"Tell me the story."
"This is the story of your uncle. Your father's brother. We were dear friends."
"He doesn't talk about his brother."
"He misses him too greatly."
"I know that he floated out to sea on a large piece of Bark he found shed from the Tree. I never knew him; he sailed before I was born. He said he was seeking the other side of the world, but he never returned. The Order believed he'd been taken by the sea monster. I think that could be true. My mother said they looked out to sea sometimes, hoping to see him returning to them."
"You have exploration in your blood, Lillah."
"Why would he do such a thing?"
"He wanted to know. He wanted to see what else there was, if it was an alternative to living on this island. He knew that the Tree was growing and he had a different sense of vision to most people. He knew that in ten generations, the land would be gone and other homes would need to be found. He believed there was another place to live on land; although not the Island of Spirits."
"How could he know such a thing? No one knows where it is but that doesn't mean it isn't there."
"He did not believe that is where the spirit went after death."
"So what did he do?"
"We had no idea he was about to take to the water. A school had just left and he had made love to three of the teachers. None stayed; they were only from Bayonet, two Orders away, and they were not ready to settle. These women talked a lot about children, of ten children each, of building Order. There were arguments around the talkfire, most believing that keeping our population low is the way to keep ourselves safe from disease. These women did not agree, nor did they care. It was not the most amusing evening.
"Your uncle was furious with them for their lack of understanding, and he said that he would find a way to avoid sharing the land with them. That was when he made the plan to enter the sea."
"He had a plan?"
"He was very organised! He took food, drink, clothing, implements. If anyone could survive, it would be him."
"Yet he never returned."
"No. Some say it is because he was sucked into the Tree on his little vessel, and that in there are ghosts who live on our blood. They use our blood to fill their veins. Your uncle is ghost food."
Lillah looked at him, horrified. "This is not a story to tell to children."
"It is your story, Lillah. There is no lesson in it. Your father will not tell you, but it is your history."
Lillah thought she had too many lost relatives.
"Can I help you down from your rock, Tilla?"
"NO! Just go away," he snapped. She climbed up and hugged him quickly. His hard body stiffened then relaxed. "Find someone else to talk to, okay?" she said.
He grunted, and she walked away.
It was only on celebration nights they stayed up past dark. Other times it was early to bed. Early up in the morning. Lillah wondered if other Orders slept differently.
She didn't join the others in drinking sap wine. She needed to keep her head clear for the morning. The first couple of days were the hardest, she'd been told. The third day was painful as the muscles screamed, and they usually rested on that day.
"It's not meant to be tortuous," Aquifolia told them. "Pain is okay in small doses but no one can think when they are hurting. Stop when you need to. There is nothing weak about it."
Lillah woke early on her first day of school and thought, "Sometime soon I am going to have sex." She lay in bed for a while, imagining what her lovers would look like.
Not so different from the men in her Order. The only real difference was that she could sleep with them.
She sat up, dizzy. She had not slept well in the night; the anticipation of leaving on her first day of school proved fertile ground for imaginings.
"Lillah. Come on. Breakfast with the family." Her brother spoke through the door, then knocked and pushed it open. He poked his head in. His eyes were puffy. He looked like he hadn't slept well, either. "Come on, Lillah. We won't see you for many years. Until you get homelust and come back to us."
"That's if I meet the man of my dreams," she said. She and Logan exchanged glances, not quite of longing, nor of regret, but a mixture of both. "I'll pack my bags then come to join you."
"Breakfast first. Father has prepared a feast."
Lillah nodded. "He's going to be lonely. Without me."
"He'll have plenty to do with the baby. He's a great help to us."
Lillah shook her head. "Don't let that be his existence. Promise me? He is more than grandfather. Make sure he travels to the markets sometimes, sees others his own age. Make sure he has a hobby, not just holding your child."
"Yes, yes," Logan said. "Come on, eat, then I have to get back to Magnolia and the baby."
They walked together outside. Their father had set up a picnic amongst the roots of the Tree. Eggs, sliced boiled cassava, diced salted fish. He waited impatiently.
"Sit down, sit down, hurry up. We need to eat. Magnolia needs us. That baby won't let her sleep."
"Why don't we take breakfast to her?" Lillah said, piling egg and fish onto cassava. "Let's eat while she's feeding the baby."
Lillah's father made himself a pile of food, too. "All right. I can't concentrate, thinking of what's going on."
Already the wrens were hopping about pecking up crumbs, and the ants were lining up for their feast.
"I think we'll let nature have the rest," her father said. He rose, dusted his lap.
They heard a distant wail. Logan dropped his food and ran.
"It always sounds worse when it's your own," Myrist said. "I'm sure the baby's fine." Nevertheless, they walked quickly. Myrist spoke, out of breath with the exertion. Lillah didn't feel it in the least. Training for school was intense.
"Now, Lillah, you have a very exciting and challenging time ahead of you. The things you'll see will stay with you forever. We forget a lot of our schooling; the knowledge is there without us remembering exactly where it came from. But when you do the trip, as an adult, it is with you. You have the power to leave your name on many places in the Tree. You will see many people, meet many men. Not all you meet will love you. Some will want to hurt you. Be careful of those people. There are killers about. You have heard the stories from other teachers. Killers to be wary of."
They reached the house. Logan fixed a drink for Magnolia. He said, "Should I be listening to this?"
"You've just become a father. That's your great adventure."
"It wasn't enough for our mother. Why will I be any different?"
Lillah poked him. Her brother was a genius at turning the attention to himself.
"Um, you two can talk about fatherhood once I'm gone. I want to hear Dad's true confessions."
"I don't really have any true confessions. It's nice to see the children your mother taught grown up and starting to have children of their own. I re member every last one of them as children. Cleaned them up. I remember what they wouldn't eat. Helped me with you two a lot. You know, understanding how each child likes different dinners."
"Mother always made the best dinners, didn't she?" Logan said.
"Your mother was very clever. You're a good cook too."
"Come on, Dad, tell more about what I should know. Teach me everything now. I can take it. Tell us about Mother's lovers," Lillah said.
"You don't really want to hear that, I'm sure."
"Come on, Dad. I'm not squeamish."
"I'm squeamish. I'll just say this; you are in control. You have the power. Never say yes to anyone you dislike, and approach anyone you do like. Compatibility is obvious, even from the first kiss. Sometimes you'll kiss a man and your stomach will heave. Truly. I don't know if it's a smell they release, or a chemical reaction between the two of you, but it will be obvious. Some say it's because there is an unknown blood connection, that like blood abhors the smell of like blood. These ones you will push away."
Lillah nodded. "Thea can't stand the smell of Dickson. Is that what you mean? So did you know when you kissed Mother?"
"I did. All other thoughts left my mind and I knew this was it."
Logan said, "You should ask about our Uncle Legum along the way. Perhaps he was washed up along the coast." He touched his ear.
"I'll ask everywhere. Mother used to say he was so distraught when father married her he sailed out to sea on a huge piece of bark."
"I thought she said he swam out?"
"She told it differently every time."
"Our stories change by the hour, don't they? Each new thing that happens to us changes the things that have happened to us before. Now I am a father, all my past experience seems different."
Lillah took his hand. "You are a serious man now, Logan."
"You'll understand what I mean before too long, Lillah. You will change."
"Not me. I am who I am and that is set."
They shared their breakfast with Magnolia. "Magnolia? Sorry, Magnolia?" Lillah whispered. "I'm going to school soon. Do you have a message for your people? I know we'll reach them. I'm looking forward to meeting them. Is there anything you want me to give them?"
Magnolia opened her eyes a slit and waved her arm. "Logan?" she said. He jumped up.
"I forgot. It's here. Somewhere. Wait there." He left the room and they could hear him thumping and swearing around the house. Magnolia and Lillah exchanged glances.
Logan came back into the room carrying a small hessian bag. He held it up. "Got it!" he said. "She's so organised. She packed this long ago, Lillah."
"How heavy is it?"
Logan passed it to her. "Not very."
Lillah took it, weighing it in her hands. "I should be able to carry that."
Magnolia sat up, breastfeeding. It still hurt her sometimes, and Logan hated to watch. Magnolia said, "If I don't breastfeed him he'll be treated differently. Logan, now bring the parcel I've saved from the Number Taker."
He returned with a roll of paperbark. "Is this it?"
"That's it. Lillah, I have here writing-bark. The Number Taker gave this piece to me, hoping that I would begin to map the country. Map the island, Botanica. I didn't do it, though. I was too eager to play and I didn't take it seriously. Will you take on the job? Will you mark the map?"
Lillah took the paper. She had never felt the stuff before and she liked it. Her fingers itched to begin.
"I will do it, Magnolia. I will try, at least." She would map, Lillah decided. She would keep track of all she saw, of how each Order differed. She would try to understand, to contain, the Orders of the Tree.
Myrist joined them, saying, "If you're taking gifts, please, you'll be passing through your mother's Order. You'll see her. She left for her walk two years ago; she would be there long by now. Give her my love, and give her this as well. You know we found each other when I went walking with my school, don't you? We knew then that we would find each other again."
He handed her a beautifully carved necklace, one piece of wood crafted into links.
"It's beautiful."
Her father began to cry softly. "I wish she hadn't gone for the walk home. I wish she'd stayed."
"I wish she'd stayed also. She was a wonderful person."
"She still is, Lillah. You better go make your preparations. You will need to begin your bath."
They entered Logan's kitchen, and for a few blinks they worked, cleaning and tidying. Lillah touched the things lingeringly; the pots, the utensils, the containers. She would not see these things again, most likely. She would take on another's househol
d items. There was no room to take it with her. A few select items. Not the clay pot that had been in her father's family for generations. That she would miss the most. It would not be possible to carry one with her. The smallest crack would render it useless as a cooking vessel. Some of the pots were very old, had been used over many years.
"Your mother used to say the only thing she felt sorry about was the women friends she made and had to say goodbye to. You can only communicate for so long using the messenger, then people move on, get busy."
Walking the Tree Page 6
