Chapter Text
Summer (Year 0)
When you are six years old, you are convinced that you can fly. The massive tree just south of your grandpa's farm calls to you, a promise of adventure and intrigue that you can't seem to resist. Ren, your older brother, chases you down the path - shrieking and running as fast as your tiny legs can carry you. The lake appears like a mirage in the oppressive heat and you take a sharp right. The willow will protect you. The willow will keep you safe.
You had discovered the footholds at the beginning of the summer, had made your way about halfway to the first branch before you had looked down and promptly froze, too terrified to complete the journey. But you're stronger now, you can feel it. You're braver and you are indestructible.
A foot placed carefully here, a short arm reaching up and grabbing there. You make it halfway up the trunk of the tree and then you keep going, you can do this, and your little hand finally, finally, meets the lowest branch. Hoisting yourself onto the limb, your brother catches up at the base, trying to glare up at you while the sun does its best to blind him.
"Hey!" He's yelling but you're not listening, your goal now set on what's above. If you can make it a little bit higher, you'll be able to see the whole lake. You'll be able to see the farm, the woods that grandpa had forbade you from going into without him, the turret that had cropped up since last summer with no explanation or reason. You'll be able to see everything.
"Dummy, hey - Mom's gonna kill you, come down!" If he thinks calling you a dummy is gonna get you down, he has another thing coming. He doesn't know what you know. It doesn't matter how high up you go -
You can fly.
Ren is calling your name, his voice more frantic than you've ever heard it, and you're reaching for the next branch - if you can just pull yourself up to this one, you can scoot to the edge and see it all - when a sharp snap echos. You have time for a single breath, and then you're falling.
It's a new sensation, one that makes your stomach feel like it's in your throat, your limbs feel like they're in free fall, your eyes feel like they have to widen to witness every millisecond of it.
You're falling, not flying.
And the sky is bright blue behind the pink flowers that are blossoming and a bird, a hawk you think, is soaring just overhead.
You are falling, not flying, and then there is nothing.
The next thing you remember is sitting on a doctor's table, legs swinging absentmindedly. You blink once, then twice, shaking your head a little at the disorientation.
You had just been falling and now you're here.
A sniffle to your right alerts you to your brother's presence, his head pillowed on his arms so you can't see his face.
A hand on your shoulder and Dr. Bhatti is to your left, your grandpa behind him with a face you've never seen him make before.
"You gave us quite the scare, little mouse." You liked Dr. Bhatti. He wasn't scary like the doctors back home, he never gave you a shot, and he always gave you a lollipop - even when you were just visiting.
You feel a pressure on your head and you reach up to touch, to scratch, before he gently grabs your wrist.
"Unfortunately, you took a tumble and you'll have to wear that on your head for a couple of days." Dr. Bhatti's mouth is set in a thin line, but you can see the way it's starting to twitch up at the end. "Good thing your brother was there to get your grandfather and me, hmm?"
A louder sniffle this time and Ren's wiping at his eyes, red and raw, and a trickle of snot drips from his nose. You're about to reach out, a sudden urge in you to hold his hand because you don't remember what happened after you fell, but Ren was there and he's here now. He's always, just, here.
But your grandpa is in front of you and he's hoisting you up under your armpits and you're fitting in the crook of his arm, a position so natural that you don't even think twice before resting your head against his shoulder. You rub at your eye, trying to scrub away the last bits of confusion, as your grandpa leads you and Ren out of the room.
He thanks Dr. Bhatti gruffly, promises he'll bring you back in a day or two for another check-up, promises to keep an eye on you.
The walk back to the farm is quiet and you're piecing together the gravity, the way in which Ren is silent and grasping your grandpa's other hand tightly, the way in which your grandpa stares straight ahead.
He breaks the silence, though, when you reach the wrap-around porch of the farmhouse. "Ren, go wash up will you?"
Your brother spares you a quick glance, but then he's up the stairs and through the front door, letting the screen bang shut behind.
Your grandpa sits down heavily in the porch swing, setting you down next to him but still keeping you tucked under his arm.
More silence.
You pick at a healing scrape on your knee.
More silence.
You worry at your bottom lip.
More sil-
"The Valley has many secrets, mouse." He surveys the farm. "Some are for us to learn, and others are for us to forget."
Your grandpa sighs, runs a hand down his face. You see wrinkles and stubble and sun spots. He looks like he has always looked to you. "What were you doin' climbin' that tree, little one?"
You look up at him until he meets your gaze. "I thought I could fly, pop-pop."
He wasn't expecting that. "And why did you think you could fly?"
You open your mouth then close it abruptly. Hmm. A puzzling question. "You said I could do anythin'."
A bee flits around your ear and you watch it land on your hand. It dances around (your grandpa had taught you that, that bees can dance, that's why there was no reason to be afraid of them) and then flies off.
And then he's chuckling, just slightly, just enough to feel it where your shoulder meets his chest. "That I did, mouse. That I did."
You worry at the scab again, a thought forming. "Can I not do anythin'?"
"Mhm-mhm." A shake of his head. "You can do many things, my granddaughter. You will do many things, I'm sure of it." A pause. "Sometimes, you will do things that will bring you great success and joy and a feeling that is hard to contain in that tiny body of yours." A tickle over your ribs, and you swat at him with a giggle. "And sometimes, you will do things and they won't work out exactly how you expected. Sometimes, life will take you in directions you never thought possible and it may feel hard and you may get angry or sad because you thought things would be different."
The sun is beginning to set, a hazy vision of pinks and oranges and purples.
"But I want you to remember two things, mouse." He uses his free hand to tilt your head up towards him once more. "You must always have faith in yourself. People may try and tell you what to do, may try and sell you an idea of what will make you happy. But only you know what will make you happy. Only you know what you need, what you are capable of, what is important to you."
The smell of stew and fresh vegetables wafts out through the screen door, dinner is almost ready.
"And you must remember that you are never alone. Me, your momma, Ren. Others that you pick up along the way. There may be many times where you feel like nothing is going right, but there will always be people on your side."
Two fireflies float in front of you, twirling and intertwining with each other.
"Can you promise me one thing, mouse?"
Your grandpa has that look on his face again, like he's trying to make sure you understand, really understand.
"Can you promise me that you will not fall out of trees anymore?"
A grin overtakes your face and you are laughing and you are remembering what it felt like the second before you realized you were falling, not flying. You felt like a firefly. You felt like a bee. You felt weightless.
You felt free.
"I promise, grandpa!"
(Twenty-one years later, you will break your promise to your grandfather. It will be a different tree, but the same farm. It will be a different injury and a different doctor and a different life, but it will be the same feeling.
For a moment, before your back hits the hard earth below, you will feel free.)