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“Want to go sledding,” asks Raining.
“Yeah!” says Wire.
“Make sure you’re back in time for dinner, girls,” says Raining’s Mom cheerfully.
Wire smiles at Raining, elated, and Raining grins back, a quick sharp flick. Bell Chiu watches indulgently while they tear around Cedar House, shrugging into their winter layers, and run out the door.
It’s cold outside, in the little snow-covered meadow that Cedar House nestles in, deep inside the Forest. Wire can see her breath. She huffs in and out a few times, warming her cheeks and steaming the air.
Raining’s sled is a fine big wooden one that her Dad built, with wooden runners and a pull-rope threaded through the sides. Raining takes the rope on one side of the sled and Wire takes it on the other.
“This way,” says Raining, tugging. The glance she sends Wire from underneath her swinging black bangs is brimming with suppressed excitement. She has a secret.
What is it? Wire loves surprises but hates waiting for them. She tugs harder on the sled.
The sled is solid and heavy, but the two of them pull it easily enough on its smooth runners over the soft, damp snow. The Path weaves and bobs with careful delight, skirting tall, tall tree trunks, hopping over partly-covered fallen branches, and sliding past massive fallen logs.
They’re inside the real Forest now. The sky stayed behind to chatter to the friendly meadow. If Wire looks way, way up from underneath the firs, the redcedar and the western hemlock, all she sees are branches. Branches drooping, sweeping, locking arms and shaking hands. Criss-crossed so many times that Wire imagines they only stop once they’ve sprouted up through fluffy clouds.
It’s warm enough in the Forest. The trees don’t let the cold wind tear about so recklessly in their dwelling place. Wire smells fresh, cold air touched with the clean smell of snow and the soft tang of evergreen needles. She can hear little dry creaks and rustles, overhead and off in the trees. But she never sees any birds or rabbits when she looks. They must be hiding in warm homes.
Or they probably just hear the big loud people coming from a long way off.
Wire and Raining are breathing more heavily now. They’ve been dragging the sled uphill for the last while. The Path is wavering, reluctantly dragging up the incline. Wire’s arms and feet are slowing down but when she checks, Raining has her head down and her body leaning forward, ploughing away. So Wire tosses back her black ponytail, grips the rope more firmly in her mitten, and digs her boots into the soft-packed snow.
The Path leaves them finally with a shy flourish on level ground and in bright sunlight. They’ve come right to the crown of the hill, to a high clearing.
“We’re here,” says Raining on a note of triumph. Cheeks flushed and bangs stuck against her forehead.
“Yay,” says Wire between unsteady breaths. She’s glad they’re here.
But where’s here?
They leave the Path waiting faithfully for them at the Forest’s edge and walk the sled into the clearing. There’s a ring of rocks in a circle at the very top, and they each sit on one while they catch their breath. The wind is stronger out here in the open.
Wire can see miles and miles of trees spread out all around. She can’t see Cedar House, or the meadow. And she can’t see Chinatown, or Government House, or her apartment. There’s no tiny, far off Ma and Daddy standing on the balcony to wave at. The trees must be too tall for that. But she can see the Lions.
The snow-covered mountains are leaning together just a little, like they’re telling each other something. Wire’s glad that there’s two of them to keep each other company. They’re standing on their own, a long way off from the rest of the North Shore Mountains. Wire thinks that they must be best friends. Like her and Raining. Even though Raining is ten years old and Wire’s only nine.
“Raining!” says Wire. She points. “The Lions are talking today.”
“Yep.” Raining’s bright black eyes catch with understanding. She puts on a ‘mountain‘ voice and leans, mock-solemn, toward Wire. “The mountain goats are playing again today. Very ticklish! And how many stars did you collect last night?”
Wire laughs, very pleased.
Rain smiles. Her smile changes gradually into a different one, softer. “Nobody else knows about this place,” she says, gesturing with her chin at the clearing. “It’s secret.”
“Oh.” Wire gets it now. It’s Raining’s special place, and of course the Forest’s. A high, open hilltop, deep inside the Forest. And now Wire gets to be part of the secret too.
“Oh. It’s really great, Raining!”
Raining looks so pleased. A little grin sneaks across her face, a different kind than her usual certain ones.
Raining throws out her arms. “Let’s go sledding!”
They investigate all the sides of the hill, and pick a downward slope that has a section mostly free of trees. They settle into the sled, Wire in the back, Raining in the front. Raining wraps the rope around her hands to steer with.
Wire gets out of the sled, hanging onto the back with both hands. She pushes the sled with Raining in it as hard as she can. Pushes again, and again. Until the sled shifts forward, teetering on the hill. She pushes once more, for luck. And quickly hops in behind Raining. They’re already moving as Wire grabs hard onto the sides of the sled, pulls her feet in tightly to her body, and leans forward like Raining.
WHOOSH.
The sled takes off. Faster than Wire thought possible. Her stomach gets left at the top of the hill. They’re hurtling down in a blur of white snow and, off at the sides, flashes of green. Raining’s whooping, loud belly yells. Wire’s shrieking, though not because she means to. It’s spilling out of her in high, excited shrills.
Raining’s hauling hard on the pull-rope. Tugging right. Wire has time for a single thought.
I think we’re almost at the bottom.
Ummmfph.
Wire has a mouth full of snow. She can’t see. She’s headfirst in very cold snow bank. Covered up to her waist. No idea where the sled is. Or Raining. She flaps around with an arm, trying to clear away the snow.
Her mitten and wrist are grabbed, up above. Raining pulls her out of the snow bank, Wire shedding snow to the front and back and off the top of her head.
“Okay?” says Raining. She's powdered with wet snow too. The sled’s nose-first in the snow, a little way behind them. It’s a very large snow bank.
“Yes,” says Wire, giggling.
Raining catches her giggles. Brushing snow off her coat and mittens and face and hair, she doubles over a bit, giggling.
Wire shakes snow out of her ponytail, snorts, and breaks up, giggling. She flaps an arm around helplessly at Raining, who shrugs at her between giggles. She can’t stop. They're both giddy from sledding and laughter.
Raining catches Wire's eye and, still giggling, flops backwards into the snow. She stretches her arms and legs out straight. Between her chest-shaking giggles, she starts making a snow angel.
Wire flops down beside her and starts making her own angel. Brushes her arms and legs back and forth through the cold snow. A laughing angel.
When their fit of giggles stops, they sit up. Wire still feels terribly silly. It’s easier to start laughing than it is to stop. Her mittens are soaked and the back of her neck is wet but she doesn’t care. She looks over at Raining.
Raining looks gleeful. She does her best to squish her face into a very serious expression. It nearly fits. Though it keeps trying to escape around the edges.
“So,” Raining says. Serious business.
“Again?” Raining can’t help a playful tone creeping into her voice.
“Yes,” breathes Wire wholeheartedly.
They flop to their feet. Step carefully around the laughing snow angels. They free the sled from the snowbank and right it. Still laughing a little when their eyes meet, they take the pull-rope on either side of the sled and head back up the slope.
They get to the top, and again they go. And again. And again.
***
There are other days and other winters, and other rides on the sled.
Wire and Raining play other games too. They imagine things.
Raining is Cougar, mighty and fierce. Wire is Fox: brave and the cleverest of all the animals. Cougar and Fox are friends that live in the Forest.
“I don’t think that cougars have friends,” says Raining, thinking it over seriously. Her forehead is scrunched up a little.
There are cougars in British Columbia. There are probably cougars in the Forest, but neither Raining nor Wire has ever seen one. They’ve never seen the wolves or the black bears or the Grizzlies either. Wire wonders if it’s because the Forest keeps them away. If it’s watching out for them. It seems like something that’s possible.
“Even cougars need friends to pick blueberries with them and listen to their jokes,” says WIre helpfully.
Raining’s face clears.
“That’s true,” she says, bright black eyes approving.
Fox feels the warm glow of a job well done.
***
Cougar and Fire roam all over the Forest and have adventures.
There’s a mean, thin-spirited ghost who comes to haunt the Forest. He steals all the animals away, one by one, until only Fox and Cougar are left. He wants the Forest all for himself.
Fox and Cougar come up with a brave plan to rescue the animals. This requires a great deal of hiding behind trees and logs and stalking and pouncing. And lots of chasing and yelling to drive the mean ghost away.
The other animals are very happy to be free and back in the Forest with their families. They thank Fox and Cougar and they cheer.
***
One day when Wire and Raining are at the secret hilltop, they see a giant balloon floating through the sky. It hangs lazily in the air with its brightly coloured stripes and its basket. There are hints of a fire burning inside. Flames licking over and around the basket rim. They stand and stare, amazed. Until it glides slowly away on the Pacific wind and is carried out of sight.
Much, much later, Wire hears that it was explorers from the North. The Alaskans trying to evolve travel and trading with the Clans of Seattle. The balloon got further than they believed possible before they ran out of luck and fuel and were blown off course. Luckily for them, the balloon came down in Richmond rather than North Vancouver, or Downtown, or the Rockies, or the ocean. Any number of very bad places.
But that day, standing on top of the hill, Wire feels like the balloon is something special put there just for her and Raining to see.
***
“Wire, sweetheart. Thank you so much for coming. You’re so good to keep Raining company while I’m gone.”
Bell, dressed for a journey in her brown wool cape, gives Wire a warm hug.
Wire loves Raining’s mom. She suits her name perfectly. Bell. A lovely sound that lingers long after the bright tone is struck.
Wire likes her own name too. An unusual one.
“It’s not a family name,” Ma chuckled when Wire asked, not unkindly. “You’re not named after a Great Aunt Wire. I just liked it.”
Wire wasn’t sure what to make of her name for a long time. But she’s grown to like it.
A wire. A connection between two different things. Surprisingly strong for how slender it is.
Bell Chiu inspects Wire merrily and widens her eyes in surprise.
“You’re getting so tall. Look at you!”
Wire’s tall for fifteen. One of the tallest girls in her class where, two years ago, she was one of the short ones. She has curves now too. Modest ones, but there.
Raining, standing over by the window, has thinned out. At sixteen, she’s a little shorter than Wire. Wire would tease her about that except that it would hurt Raining’s dignity.
“Well, I’m off,” says Bell Chiu. “Take good care of each other. I’ll be home tomorrow before the sun goes down.”
“We will, Mom”
“Yes, Mrs. Chiu. Have a good trip.”
Bell Chiu gathers up her big basket and goes. Raining and Wire run over to wave from the window and watch her walk away.
“Well,” says Raining, when her mother’s disappeared between the evergreens. “What do you want to do?”
It’s exciting, being on their own. They’re responsible for themselves and for Cedar House. That’s never happened before.
“You said you’d paint for me when you got a chance. Right, Raining?”
“Right now?” says Raining. She decides quickly.
“Sure. Let’s do it now.”
She sets out her paints on the table. Glass jars in rows. Western hemlock red, parsley juice yellow, forget-me-not blue, wood ash black, and more. A flat stone mixing tray. Brushes and rags. A big piece of white paper weighted down at the corners with stones.
“Okay, go stand by the window,” says Raining.
“Huh?” says Wire.
“I don’t get to do many portraits,” says Raining, very intent now. She takes Art very seriously.
Wire’s never been an artist’s model before. It sounds fun.
It’s fun striking a pose in front of the window. And it’s fun having a contest with herself to see how long she can hold it without moving a single muscle.
It’s fun watching Raining paint. Mixing her colours quickly and carefully, dabbing short strokes on the page. Sometimes dipping her brush into clean water before brushing carefully over a painted section, to lift a small amount of colour back off. She’s so focused. Not stopping to take breaks or to stretch. From time to time she pushes her bangs out of her eyes or gets Wire to fix her pose.
“No, your head was tilted the other way. No, the other way. Yes, like that. Don’t move!”
Wire’s firmly decided. She’s not cut out to be a model. Standing still and not moving or talking is not what she’s good at.
“Raining. I’ve got to move. My foot’s falling asleep.”
“Wait! Not yet!”
“Raining. Rain-ing.”
“Rain.”
“I’ve got one last bit. Just one more minute. Please, Wire.”
Wire sighs. Models suffer terribly. She had no idea.
“I’m counting, Raining.”
“Sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight.”
***
The finished painting is worth it, even if Wire’s feet say differently. Raining has painted Wire standing in the meadow, next to the poplar tree that you can see from their window. The light is that of a clear, mild winter morning. The branches and leaves form lacy patterns. Painting Wire is looking up into the tree. Or maybe beyond into the sky. She looks alert. Wondering, curious, bright. Strongly there.
Wire looks at Painting Wire and into Raining’s expectant face and smiles.
***
Wire and Raining make a quick dinner of dried fish and fried bread and blackberry tea. They go to sleep in Raining’s room, curled up under her quilts.
The next morning is as mild as the day before. The entire day stretches out ahead of them.
Raining and Wire pick out some dried apples to bring with them and some bread. They gather their baskets and pull on their winter layers.
Wire’s fox-orange toque and mittens are her very favourite things to wear. They’re good Surrey wool dyed with red alder bark. Raining pulls on her black wool coat with the over-sized buttons and her pink scarf. They take their baskets and go outside.
***
Wire is shocked when she sees that Cedar House is gone. Not gone, exactly, but different. Instead of four walls, a door, windows and a roof, Wire sees a stand of redcedars.
The Forest is playing tricks again.
Wire finds it a little scary when the Forest changes Cedar House around. It switches dead logs out for living trees. It takes the house back into itself at will.
Raining is completely un-alarmed. She never seems frightened by anything the Forest does.
“It’s okay,” she tells Wire complacently. “The Forest always puts things back where it found them.”
“If you say so,” says Wire, not entirely convinced.
Phew! When she compares Cedar House to her family's apartment, Wire’s all of a sudden very glad that her building isn’t alive the way that the Forest is.
***
It’s when they’re gathering bark that it happens.
Wire and Raining take turns cutting slices of bark off the western hemlock and the redcedar with a tiny switchblade. Never more than one swatch from any tree.
They take the inner layer of light-coloured bark from the western hemlock. Raining will use it to make red paint. Her Art Companion gives her the recipes. The redcedar bark will be woven into summer hats and baskets, like the ones they’re carrying.
Wire is tugging at a stubborn piece of redcedar, trying to pry it loose. Raining comes over to help. Between the two of them, pulling and sawing with the knife, it comes loose, with a jerk. Wire loses her balance.
Raining, right there, catches her shoulder and steadies her.
They end up very close, leaning into each other a little. When WIre looks up, Raining’s face is right in front of hers.
Raining looks at her steadily. Bright affection and a little bit of concern in her eyes.
Without thinking, Wire kisses her.
She presses her lips to Raining’s. They’re warm and a little rough beneath hers. Wire feels so many things, so quickly. It takes her a minute to realize that Raining isn’t kissing her back.
Wire’s stomach sinks. She quickly steps back, away from Raining.
Why did she do that? Wire tries to remember.
It was just impulse. Why didn’t she think.
It’s hard to look at Raining but Wire does it: quickly. All at once. It’s the only way that she can.
Raining looks really bewildered. Wire’s not used to seeing her look so uncertain.
Raining doesn’t seem angry or upset. But she doesn’t look happy either. Wire feels worse and worse. What should she do?
Too upset to think, impulse takes over again for Wire. She turns and runs into the Forest blindly. Off the Path. Away.
“Wire, wait!” she hears Raining shout behind her.
Wire doesn’t stop.
***
Wire eventually has to stop. She’s winded and upset and completely lost.
Wire tries to calm down and think. This is bad.
Wire doesn’t think the Forest would actually hurt her. But she’s not completely sure.
A good number of the people who have gone into the Forest over the years have never come out.
Wire tends to forget that the Forest is a Power with the ability to do frightening things. She forgets because she’s Raining’s friend. And the Forest loves the Chius, and they it.
Thinking about Raining feels like a bruise.
Wire wonders if Raining is looking for her.
***
Wire can’t bear to wait so she starts walking. More by luck than by skill or effort, she finds the Path.
WIre feels so relieved to see it that she’s a little wobbly in her legs and her chest.
Wire thinks that the Path seems relieved to see her too.
Wire takes the Path in the direction she thinks leads to Cedar House.
***
Wire walks a long time. She doesn’t seem to be getting any closer.
Unhappy thoughts and worries circle around and around in her head. The Path dogs her feet closely, almost like it’s trying to shepherd her along.
Wire has lost all sense of how much time she’s been wandering by herself. But the Path looks like it's opening up ahead.
And all of a sudden, Wire badly doesn’t want to be back at the meadow. Her feet drag and slow.
But long before Wire’s anywhere near prepared, the Path dumps her at the meadow’s edge and leaves her to face Cedar House alone.
***
“Wire! There you are,” says Bell Chiu. “I’ve been so worried. Raining said you got separated in the Forest. That you were lost. Are you all right?” She wraps her arms around Wire and hugs her tight.
Wire leans into the embrace, relieved. Safe.
“I’m fine,” she says.
“Oh, thank goodness,” says Mrs. Chiu warmly. “I’m so glad. You mean a great deal to us, Wire sweetheart.”
Raining, standing by the hallway, doesn’t agree or disagree.
***
Mrs. Chiu asks Wire what she wants for dinner, but Wire insists that she needs to go home.
And it’s true. Wire wants Home very badly.
“Ma and Daddy will miss me if I stay for too long,” says Wire.
She feels uneasy and off balance. It’s hard to pretend that everything’s all right.
Raining has gone very quiet. She hasn’t said one word to Wire since Wire came in. When Wire thinks about why that might be, all the reasons she comes up with are bad.
Wire feels awful.
“Raining. You walk Wire out of the Forest,” says Bell Chiu, looking from Wire to Raining and back again. And such is the force of her gentle assurance that they start moving right away.
***
Wire and Raining walk in silence through the Forest. The Path is meek and quiet, unfolding humbly at their pace. It’s getting darker underneath the trees. Evening is falling.
The silence drags on. Wire tries to think of something to say and can’t. There must be something she can say to fix this. Wire desperately tries to find it.
She can’t.
Within very little time, they arrive at the Forest’s edge. The Path ends here, and Wire has a short trip through the layer of young hardwood trees that grow up underneath the giant evergreens. A few streets over from there is home.
Almost there.
Raining stands waiting at the end of the Path. She nods at Wire, acknowledging her, as Wire walks by.
“Bye, Wire,” says Raining.
Wire pauses for the briefest moment. So small that it would be easy to miss it.
Waiting.
But nothing more comes.
“Bye, Raining,” says Wire.
***
As soon as Wire arrives home at her apartment she wants back out again. The memory of the murder scene is engraved on her brain:
Wire finishing up the consultation with her clients and walking out into the unexpected.
A gray winter street in Chinatown lined with grave, shocked people, huddled a respectful distance back from the dark stains on the pavement. Someone has already removed the body of the poor young man who’s been killed by the monster from Downtown.
Workers from the Ministry for Wellness are hanging charms to the north, south, east and west of the spot. Trying to cleanse the bad energy, lest it coalesce and attract a minotaur.
This is the third such monster to escape from Downtown. One of them had been spotted before it entered Chinatown, and some of the Dragon’s men from the Hong Hsing Athletic Club had been able to take it down with a blowtorch before it hurt anyone. They were local heroes for it. Drinks paid for everywhere they went.
The other monster had killed two workers in a clothing store.
“It’s gone. The monster’s gone,” the man beside her says in a low voice. He’s noticed Wire warily scanning the streets. “They tracked it back to Downtown.”
***
It is very sad and very frightening. The Monsters gaining the ability to escape their pen of skyscrapers and pavement threatens the very fabric of life in Chinatown.
Wire drops her bag by the door and leaves her apartment.
***
At first Wire doesn’t know where she’s going. Just that she needs to be out and moving. She badly wants to see Meredith, but Mere’s working. School won’t let out for a few more hours.
It’s mid-afternoon. It’s very wet and cold. The sky is an unhappy grey. It’s not so terribly cold, really, but the wind pushes the damp straight through her, or so it feels. Wire draws her woolen cape more tightly around her and hunches into her thick woolen scarf.
She should really go home and make some dinner and finish up the job for her clients. There’s a floor plan, a protractor and a set of compass readings waiting for her. The Choi’s want their home to be as auspicious as possible for the arrival of their first child.
Instead Wire turns into the hardwood grove that borders on the Forest.
The skinny young poplars and birches look especially scraggly with their leaves stripped away. Wire walks through them quickly until she reaches the Path. She takes the Path just far enough that the giant evergreens block out the world behind her, enclosing her in the Forest.
It feels warmer in here, though Wire might be imagining it. The wind seems less penetrating. The thick layer of wet, decaying tree and plant matter that carpets the Forest quiets any sounds. Wire stands still and lets peace sink into her ears and eyes and lungs.
***
Wire woke up so happy this morning, it feels like ages ago now, in Meredith’s bed. Mere was sleeping soundly, her arm around Wire’s waist, her cheek against Wire’s hair. Wire took a moment to just lie there under the covers, drowsy and embraced, feeling warm delight lighting up her heart, feeling ridiculously good.
Meredith Lam, with her long, thick black hair and her sturdy bones and her goodness. She cares so deeply for her students and her family. And for Chinatown and for Wire. She kisses Wire back with enthusiasm and with a deep, focused passion that warms Wire from head to toe.
Wire is so very lucky to have found her.
***
But then after such a happy start to the day came Work and the murder.
***
Wire feels a bit better now, standing inside the Forest. Less cold inside. It’s been a very strange day.
Wire retraces her way on the Path to the birch and poplar grove, feeling a little reluctant to leave the Forest. She lingers by the hardwoods, letting their trunks shelter her from the pushy wind.
Of course Wire can’t come to the Forest without thinking of Raining.
Raining. Who Wire hasn’t seen since Wire went to Edmonton, to help Raining marry Nick Terleski. Wire was Maid of Honour at their Southside wedding. Baby Lark must be about two years old by now, Wire thinks. She’s never met her.
Wire doesn’t think of Raining as often as she used to. A great deal has happened, separating them in years and in a good many miles:
Raining’s marriage and Lark. Wire’s work and friends and her own apartment. Lovers, men and women both.
Wire isn’t in love with her best friend any more. That was a long time ago and Wire was a different person then.
Raining has probably changed just as much, becoming a wife and a mother and a Southsider.
People change. That’s as it should be.
Wire’s not in love with Raining. She certainly doesn't miss being a teenager and feeling so terribly confused and hurt. But sometimes she has flashes of just plain missing her friend. She hopes that Raining and her little family are happy and thriving in Edmonton. She hopes that the prairie is as good to Raining as the Forest was.
She wonders if Raining ever misses the tall embrace of the Forest when she’s standing tiny between the wide prairie and the even wider sky.
Wire wonders if the Forest misses Raining. She looks back at the empty Path and feels pretty sure that it must.
Wire feels a wave of sympathy for the Forest. She stills for a moment. Thinks.
Wire drapes her arm around a cold birch tree. Leans a friendly shoulder against its trunk and cups her hand around damp, ridged bark.
Wire sings the Forest a song. She’s not a very good singer but she does her best, putting lots of expression into it.
Wire sings the “Mr. Golden Sun" song to the Forest. Then she thinks that a rainforest may not like all that sun shining down. So she sings the “Raindrops keep falling on her head” song, an old one that circles round and round. It seems to fit the mood in the grove.
Lastly Wire sings the “needing Love” song to the Forest. Ma used to sing it to her and Daddy when Wire was a girl. It’s a happy, bouncy song. Love is the thing you need because it’s the very best thing of all. Wire knows that the Forest doesn’t understand the words of the song. It isn't like a person in how it communicates. But she hopes that the Forest understands the song a little anyway and likes it.
Wire finishes her singing. There’s silence. There's the feeling of little hidden forest creatures watching and listening with pricked ears and cocked heads. And then a bird fills the grove with bold chirping.
Wire smiles and pats the birch on its trunk and goes home to make her dinner.
***
It’s Spring in the Forest, cool and wet. Everything seems to drip. It smells like things decaying and still more things growing. Deep Spring smells. The green, living parts of the Forest are stretching and yawning and waking up.
Wire and Raining walk along the Path, wandering without any real destination in mind.
Wire hasn’t seen Raining since the time she stayed at Cedar House while Mrs. Chiu was gone.
It’s good to see her again today but it’s also hard.
Raining has always been one of Wire’s very favourite people to talk to. Wire’s pretty sure that she was one of Raining’s favourite people to talk to too. But now there are silences which they have to work hard to fill.
The Path isn’t especially lively today either. It picks out the way without a great deal of care.
Wire and Raining stop at a massive log that blocks the Path. Without discussing it, they sit for a bit. The log is damp, but not damp enough to seep right through Wire’s good wool coat. It makes a comfortable enough seat.
They’re deep in the Forest. Wire doesn’t recognize at all where they are. Raining doesn’t seem concerned.
“What’s that?” says Raining sharply. She’s looking at the ring on Wire’s middle finger: a braided twist of woven threads, undyed.
“Oh,” says Wire, feeling surprised by the ring herself. “Ben gave it to me.”
“Who’s Ben?” says Raining.
“He’s in my class at school,” says Wire.
“Oh,” says Raining darkly. Her brows and lips are all scowl-y. If she were a cat she’d be lashing her tail.
Wire feels herself going quiet. There doesn’t seem to be anything she can think of to say. So she sits and strokes the ring’s woven braid with her fingertip.
She likes Ben and his clowning and his warm, kind nature. She likes the way he kisses her. So carefully, with his arm around her waist. And she likes the way his muscled boy’s body feels against her softer curves.
“I’m never dating anyone,” says Raining strongly. She’s glaring out into the trees.
“Never?” says Wire. That doesn’t seem right.
“What about a prince. Would you date a prince if he begged you to?”
Raining grudgingly concedes that she might date a prince, sounding extremely doubtful.
They lapse back into silence. The Forest is unusually silent too. No wind calling through the treetops. No branches cracking, no squirrels rudely smacking. Only the smallest of rustles or chirps, every now and then.
Wire turns and finds Raining looking at her. It’s a penetrating stare. It tries to figure Wire out, and it has a baffled edge.
Wire misses the way Raining used to look at her. With simple affection and approval. With shared understanding and humour always lurking closely, waiting to shine.
Wire looks away.
Raining speaks up. “Mom’s been teaching me to talk to the Forest. Would you like to learn how?”
Wire recognizes the peace offering for what it is and takes it thankfully.
“Okay.”
Wire’s curiousity is kindling again. She’s never heard anything about it being possible to talk to the Forest. But if anyone knows how, it’s the Chius.
Raining explains how to sit without moving and pay attention to her breathing. To notice every part of every breath, one breath after the other, until the mind quiets down and becomes peaceful.
Wire closes her eyes and takes a breath.
It’s harder then she thought it would be. The Forest isn’t as quiet as she thought. And the tiny little rustles and creaks and the breeze rustling in her ear all break her concentration. How long has she been sitting here? Two minutes? Ten minutes? It feels like ages. Her seat is going numb. Wire sighs and opens her eyes.
The log crunches and that disturbs Raining. She opens her eyes and looks at Wire with encouragement.
“It took me ages to catch on, don’t worry.”
Wire still feels kind of stupid for not being able to breathe properly.
“I don’t know, Rain.” The nickname slips out by mistake. But Raining doesn’t seem unhappy.
“Try again,” Raining says persuasively. “When your mind quietens down enough, you can hear the Forest.”
Wire tries to find a more comfortable seat on the log. She crunches around for a bit, then picks a spot. She closes her eyes and tries again.
At first it seems to be going better. Then Wire notices that she’s been thinking about it going better or not going better for the last few minutes. She hasn’t been paying attention to her breathing at all.
Come on! she thinks. You can do this.
Wire doesn’t know if she gets any better at it or not. It certainly doesn’t get any easier. But after a while, Wire has a idea.
Flashes of science class come to her. She thinks about how all these breaths she’s been breathing out are carbon dioxide. And all these breaths she’s been breathing in are oxygen. But for the trees, it’s the opposite. They breathe in carbon dioxide - including her carbon dioxide - and they breathe out oxygen. They oxygen that Wire been breathing in while she sits here.
And with that idea, breathing becomes something different.
Wire sits and trades gasses with the trees. She breathes in their cool, green-flavoured air, and lets the breath come back out when it's ready. Giving the trees back their gift so gently that her breath would hardly cause a leaf to vibrate.
The small sounds come and go and Wire hears them all. She feels the breeze when it teases strands of her hair over her cheek and neck. She feels her body getting stiff in different places, one after the other.
But mostly Wire sits and breathes with the trees.
***
It’s Wire’s seat going numb that finally pushes her eyes open. The Forest floods in, bright greens in so many, many shades. Sunlight filtered through the criss-crossing branches, making patterns when it trickles down to the Forest floor. Raining sitting beside her, eyes closed, starting to stir. So many things. And yet Wire feels very peaceful and clear. Very good, despite her body twinging in protest at being cramped in a sitting position for so long. Wire has no idea how much time has passed. It didn’t feel long at all.
Wire stretches out her legs and shoulders. Even the pins and needles feeling in her legs doesn’t chase away the feeling of peace. It lingers.
Raining’s stretching too, looking around a little. When she looks at Wire, Wire recognizes the deep calm in her eyes. She’s felt that too.
“Hmm,” Wire says. Just getting Raining’s attention.
Raining raises her brows, asking.
“I liked trying to talk to the Forest,” says Wire. “But I don’t think it worked, Raining. I didn’t hear the Forest say anything.”
Really?” says Raining. She sounds curious.
Of course the Forest didn’t talk to her. Wire wasn’t really expecting it to anyway.
Wire thinks it over though. What it felt like, sitting there.
“Maybe the Forest did talk to me,” she says. A teasing note pops into her voice. “I don’t have a clue what the Forest said. But I feel like we understood each other pretty well anyway.”
When Raining laughs, Wire feels entirely satisfied with herself.
***
They start the walk back, not talking a great deal. But things feel right between them again. The Path ambles merrily along, taking some twists and turns just for the fun of it.
Wire sees the first wildflower. It’s so pretty -- pale pink petals that hang, bell-like, from the long stem. The small flower has the shape of a heart.
“Look,” she tells Raining.
“It’s a ‘Bleeding Heart’,” says Raining knowledgeably. “They come out in the spring.”
It sounds like a sad name, but the flower itself doesn’t have a trace of sadness about it. It’s lovely.
Wire’s a little reluctant to leave the flower behind until she spots another patch of pink up ahead.
It is another one of the wildflowers. And there’s a few more further down the Path.
Raining and Wire walk on, and everywhere they go they see the pale pink hearts. Blooming in ones and twos and fours and fives.
Wire feels a laugh tickling around the edge of her thoughts.
When Raining catches Wire’s gaze, her lips are pursed shut around a grin, her black eyes bright.
“Do you think the Forest is trying to tell us something?” says Wire innocently.
Raining’s amusement becomes a full-on wicked grin.
“Point taken,” Raining says wryly to Wire, eyes laughing out loud.
Wires laughs back at her.
They wander down the Path towards Cedar House, through the blooming, blossoming Forest. Every now and then pointing out another pale pink wildflower to each other and laughing.
***
The Forest is alive.
Wire and Rain are alive.
***
Love is alive.