Songlines

by Carolyn Denman

  ‘They eat meat, then?’ Noah asked.

  ‘Yes, they do. Not much, but they do,’ he replied.

  We looked questioningly at my mother for more details.

  ‘We only kill animals that are ready to die,’ she clarified. ‘The ones that are sick or old and come to us for help.’

  ‘And this is how you help them?’ I asked, confused. Growing up on a farm, I was under no illusion as to where our food came from. I had learnt how to slaughter and dress lamb years ago but somehow I just couldn’t quite picture any of these gentle people doing it. It simply didn’t fit.

  ‘The Fruit doesn’t work on them, so sometimes they want help to stop. It’s hard for them to leave this place, even when it hurts to stay. The instinct to live can be too strong, so they come to us.’

  ‘And how does it make you feel to kill them?’ Noah asked curiously. It was such a blunt question that I froze, but she just looked at him as if it should be obvious.

  ‘It feels good to help. It doesn’t matter if it’s a person or an animal. We want whatever they want.’

  ‘So what if a human wanted to die? Would you help?’

  ‘We don’t kill humans, but we do help. We sang someone across just last winter. It was a wonderful party,’ she told us dreamily, staring into nothing as if remembering.

  I was confused. ‘But I thought no one could die here?’

  ‘Of course we’re free to die!’ She giggled at me as if I had been telling a joke, but something deep in her eyes looked … tortured. ‘Imagine how awful it would be to be trapped here forever?’

  I looked around at the smiling faces and picturesque scenery. Not that awful, I would have thought.

  ‘Besides,’ she said, with her mouth full of celery, ‘it would get terribly crowded here if no one ever moved across.’

  She had a point. A race of true immortals would have some serious logistical issues.

  ‘So you can die if you choose. But does anyone ever die by accident? What if you can’t get to the Fruit on time?’

  She shook her head. ‘Even if your heart stops beating and your brain ceases all activity, there’s always enough life left if you want to stay. Even if you stop for a long time before someone finds you and helps you to eat. The man who moved across didn’t want to stay, so he went to sleep in the River after his party. He didn’t want us to bring him back.’

  It was disturbing how happy she sounded as she described this man’s death. ‘You don’t seem sad at all. Don’t you miss him?’

  ‘A little. But it’s only for a while. When I go across I’ll see him again. Even you must know this, Lainie,’ she berated gently.

  I had a million more questions but she had spotted someone she wanted to talk to, and without another word she stood up and took her empty bowl over to a stream that ran along one edge of the clearing. She scrubbed it out and laid it back on the table for someone else to use, then left to talk to her friend. I ate my delicious meal in silence. There was a lot to ponder.

  Chapter 38

  Bathed in gentle warmth, I was woken the next morning by the intoxicating feel of sunlight on my face and the sound of gently rustling leaves all around me. Before I even opened my eyes I could smell the delicious fragrance of the tree I was hanging in, like a peppermint gum only sweeter, and I was content to just lay there and relish the moment. My ears were still filled with the memory of the lullaby my mother had sung me to sleep with. I had slept through the night. Deeply. No sad music. I’d almost forgotten what it was like not to wake up crying.

  We had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, singing and dancing with the people I was happy to think of as elves. Not because they looked any different—they were more human than I was—it was just that they were everything the flawed human race on the other side of the boundary wanted to be. They were kind and carefree, and intrinsically incapable of being selfish or cruel. Nothing they did seemed like work, only fun. I knew they were creative and intelligent, even though I couldn’t really understand their language yet. I was now certain that when fantasy writers wrote about elves, it was because they wanted to imagine a race of people that were everything humans should have been. And they were here.

  For a while I just lay there, breathing in the sweetness, letting the sounds and scents soak into my bones until my mind began to twitch with curiosity about all the strange things I could hear. I stretched and yawned in my hammock, and marvelled at the way my body ached from all the dancing. These people danced almost as well as Bane. Almost. Throughout the evening I’d kept expecting to turn around and see him there, with his piercing eyes and hidden smile, holding out his hand and inviting me to dance with him again. Rummaging around in my back pocket, I pulled out the little photos he had printed for me and smoothed them out as best I could. Then with tender care I tucked them between some vines so the faces of my friends and family could look out over Eden. I couldn’t share this with them, but at least their photos could be guests here. For a long time I stared at Bane’s picture, mentally running my fingertips along his perfect jaw the way I craved to do in real life, and wished with all my heart that he could see what I saw.

  Today I would head back to the cave to check on Tessa, and to make sure Bane had gone into town as he had promised. I felt so torn as I lay there. I wanted him to be free and happy, and I also wanted to stay in Eden because the thought of ever leaving this perfect world just seemed incomprehensible. But I also wanted to see him again, to feel his arms around me and his breath on my neck and his lips on mine …

  A passionate yearning welled up from the exact centre of my diaphragm with such sudden intensity that it flipped me right out of the hammock. My body seemed to be under the impression that I could just run to wherever he was and throw myself into his embrace, and I had to cling to a nearby branch to stop from launching myself straight off the platform.

  Everything seemed so simple here. I wanted him. He wanted me. Why did it all have to be so complicated? I wanted whatever he wanted. That seemed to be the only guiding rule here, if it could be called a rule. Everything here was motivated by what made me happy and what would make others happy, and they never seemed to be in conflict. Not in Eden anyway. Home was a different story. Somehow I was going to have to learn how to keep the two sets of principles clear in my head.

  Noah was still asleep in the next tree, looking so peaceful that I left him snoring and went to find the others. Harry was talking quietly to my mother by the streamlet, which sang a dainty sonnet as it danced across the rocks. The second she saw me, she jumped up and threw her arms around my neck with such exuberance that we both nearly ended up in the water. It made me wish Aunt Lily could see where I got the same trait. We sat down laughing and she handed me a cup of fruit juice. I peered warily at it.

  ‘It’s okay, Lainie. It’s not Life Fruit. It won’t make you forget,’ she assured me.

  I bit my lower lip. The whole concept of distrust seemed ridiculous here, but I was worried that she might have had a different idea of what I really wanted than what I did. I glanced at Harry, who gave a short nod, so I took a sip. The juice was lemony and refreshing and by the time I finished it I didn’t even feel like I needed to brush my teeth anymore.

  My mother stroked my hair as we sat in the sun, soaking up each other’s company and I realised that I no longer felt angry with her. Okay, so maybe a part of me was still resentful, if I was honest, and it would probably take a long time for us to properly resolve that, but the more time I spent with her, the harder it was to let my imagination make up nasty stories about her ‘selfish’ motivations. I could read her at least as well as anyone else, and I knew that she honestly believed she had done the right thing by leaving me with Aunt Lily. And I also knew that leaving me was part of the reason for her grief. I’d known it ever since that dream I’d had of her, on our first night at the cave. Perhaps that was why Harry had wanted me to come. To h
elp resolve her loss. I smiled as I felt her fingers gently begin to untangle the ever-present knots in my hair.

  ‘We should go and check on Tessa again this morning,’ I said reluctantly to Harry. My mother tilted her face curiously. ‘Tess is Noah’s Guardian,’ I explained to her.

  Harry shook his head quickly, warning me not to say any more, but it was too late. Her back stiffened like someone had just poked her with a sharp stick, and she refused to meet my eyes. Instead, she stared with a haunted look on her face out towards where the silver River glistened through the trees, and then wordlessly got up to leave.

  ‘Annie,’ Harry said, holding her back and looking her right in the eye. ‘Remember what we talked about?’

  For a moment she seemed rebellious, but then she laughed. ‘Of course. I just need some time away from all these eyes.’

  He nodded and let her go, and she wandered away into the trees.

  ‘What did I say?’ I asked.

  ‘It might be best not to talk about the Guardians. It brings back painful memories for her. Things she wants to forget.’

  ‘Has she gone to find some Fruit?’

  ‘No. But she doesn’t like crying in front of the people here. She’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.’

  His eyes were such a familiar soothing brown that I didn’t. There was simply no room for worry in this Garden. And yet there were things that still nagged at me. Questions that needed answering. Questions that didn’t worry me, exactly, but still made me restless. My mother should not be eating the Fruit if that was what was causing the sadness in the water, and yet there was no right or wrong here, so how was I supposed to stop her? And there were other questions I had put off for too long. I looked down at my little cup to try to find some moral support. Its tiny embossed patterns didn’t reply to my silent plea. I went ahead anyhow. It was time to ask him once and for all.

  ‘Is it my dad’s death that upset her? She seemed so accepting of death last night.’

  Harry sighed, and genuine regret was exhaled with it. ‘Lainie, a death here is by choice. Your dad didn’t choose to die. He drowned saving you and your mother—she’ll never get over that.’

  I looked him squarely in the eye. ‘So Lucas Gracewood really was my father?’

  His eyes widened in sudden understanding of why I had found it so difficult to speak openly with him, then softened in apologetic sympathy. ‘Yes, he really was. He loved you both very much. It crushed Annie when we lost him.’

  Truthful honesty fell around my shoulders like a security blanket as his simple statement untangled the knots that had filled my mind with so much conflict. And as effortlessly as that, a new peace settled. It was such an elegant and beautiful anticlimax that I felt pretty stupid for ever even questioning the truth. Why did I always have to make life so much more complicated than it needed to be?

  Harry drank the rest of his own juice, and sat lost in his own deep thoughts while I watched my mother wander away to find healing and comfort. She looked so directionless. Was that my future too? Would letting go of Bane damage me in the same way? Eden was a glorious place, and my mother seemed happy enough, but could I really live like that?

  I had a lovely lazy morning watching the people around me converse with each other in subtle signs and gestures, and was just starting to figure out a couple of phrases when I finally saw Noah emerge looking like a child lost in a toy store. He pottered aimlessly around as he became distracted by each new thing he saw, so my mother, who had returned after about half an hour, rounded him up with a familiar sharp whistle. It was the sheep dog command for ‘Bring ‘em in nice and tight’. Noah laughed and came over before she had to start nipping at his heels.

  My best friend looked radiant. I hadn’t realised how stressed he must have been lately but his sleep-in must have done him bucket loads of good because he had the sparkle back in his bright green eyes and polished off four bowls of cereal. He even started telling bad jokes again. I hadn’t really noticed when that had stopped, and I laughed at them more because he was so happy than because they were at all funny.

  The moment he finally relinquished his bowl my mother got up and skipped away through the trees, so I jumped up before she could disappear.

  ‘Wait … Mum?’ She ignored me. ‘Annie? Please wait,’ I called, stumbling after her.

  She turned to me, laughing. ‘Of course. You will want to see this. Come on, everyone!’

  Clearly there was no point trying to call her ‘Mum’. It was probably as foreign-sounding to her as it was to me. ‘Annie’ suited her much better anyway.

  We made our way back towards the River, gaping at plants that visibly grew as we passed them. A flock of tiny sparrows landed on us as we walked—literally, right on our heads and shoulders, unafraid, and very noisy. Their feathers brushed my cheeks. Many of the animals we saw I was familiar with, but not all. It was very probable that a lot of them were extinct on our side of the boundary. For a brief moment I whimsically toyed with the idea of taking a photo of a Tasmanian tiger if I could find one—it would certainly stop the miners in their tracks—but would also attract a whole lot of other attention we didn’t want. Pity. If not for the gut-clenching guilt that dwelling on the idea was rapidly producing, it might have been kind of fun.

  Crashing awkwardly into Noah as he stopped in front of me, I peered around his wide shoulders to see what he was staring at. There was a dead tree next to the River. It looked so out of place that we both just stared at it, confused. Plants and animals still died here, so why was it so disturbing? Annie glanced at it and looked away quickly. The expression on her face was one of remorse. How was that possible? There was no right or wrong here, and certainly no shame. The way I understood it, Adam and Eve were cast out of Eden to make sure of it.

  There was, however, no denying the fact that the tree was wrong. Everything about it felt deeply disturbing. Other plants that died in the Garden didn’t look like this. Each fallen tree I had so far come across had been covered with the fresh green growth of smaller plants and mosses in a healthy cycle of abundant life, but this tree looked … deader than dead, somehow.

  Annie hurried on, so we followed, but as we went past I stared at it more closely and realised that it had once been a Tree of Life. How could such a sacred Tree possibly die? It was supposed to be a source of Life itself. Noah opened his mouth as if to ask her about it but Harry motioned him to stay silent.

  Eventually Annie led us to a path that ran up a hill alongside the magnificent River. We raced each other up until it got too steep to run, and then we clambered up on all fours. The waterfall that the River formed at that point was spectacular. Rainbow mist hovered all around us, full of exotic birds that danced in elegant playfulness. At the top of the falls we rested for a few moments, absorbing the view, until Annie again pranced away. The watercourse curved around a bend and kept climbing.

  Suddenly a young woman appeared in the water from around the corner, squealing and tumbling past us as the current swept her down the hill. Noah didn’t hesitate. He kicked off his shoes and jumped straight in after her. Crazy idiot! What was he thinking? As if he could help her now! Where was Tessa when I needed her? Just a few seconds’ warning might have made all the difference, but as it was, I lost sight of Noah’s pale hair beneath the swirling current almost immediately.

  Sliding recklessly back down the hill, I searched desperately for some evidence of either victim while my imagination was busy being overwhelmed with images of bodies smashed against rocks at the bottom of the rapidly approaching falls. A nauseating flashback of tumbling through the maelstrom at the base of the waterfall near the cave ripped through me and I screamed Noah’s name in blind panic. Vivid memories engulfed me, of not being able to breathe or even work out which way was up until Bane had lifted my head above the water. This drop was much higher. With stifling distress I realised that even from the base of the falls I might j
ust be too afraid to go in after them.

  Gasping, I skidded around the bend and peered into the water at the base of the cliff, scanning the water for evidence of a body.

  Long seconds passed.

  Flashes of movement kept catching my eyes, but each one was a false trick of the turbulence and froth until finally I spotted the clumsy girl who had caused Noah to risk himself. A pathetic squeaky whimper of relief escaped me as she started to backstroke lazily towards the edge. Noah’s head broke the surface a few moments later and he gasped in a deep breath before flicking his blond curls out of his face.

  He was perfectly fine.

  My knees quivered so much from the fright he had given me that I had to clutch at a tree for support. His bright eyes looked up in amazement to see the size of the drop he had just plummeted down, and then he noticed me and gave me a wide grin. Not unlike the one he had given me after his first ice-blocking run. Right before I had broken my arm. If Adam and Eve had been kicked out for discovering the difference between Good and Evil, I wondered what would happen if I throttled my best friend.

  As my heart rate began to slow, I peered hard through the mist into the water. Not one rock. The pool was as clear as glass and flowed gently, with nothing to hide. The riverbed on either side looked pale and sandy, deepening to soothing indigo under the curtain of falling water. Then I examined the River above the drop. The base there was all bedrock, worn smooth by the water. It looked more like a water slide than a river. A garden designed for humans to dwell in? More like a giant playground for cherished children. A slow smile crept across my face, chasing away my recent fright. Eden was fun.

  By mid-afternoon I was the only person I knew who could say that my mother had taught me how to do triple-saults off the edge of a waterfall. She was an even worse show-off than I was and it was fun trying to keep up with her, but I eventually retired to the warm riverbank with Harry to watch everyone else play.