Walking the Tree (2 page)

  "You were both so beautiful to watch. I want that, too, Logan. That wonder you felt when you first saw each other."

  "We still feel it. It hasn't faded. I wish that for you as well," Logan said. "That's what I came to say."

  "And to escape the hard work! Get back to Magnolia. They need you."

  The girls met to flatten their hair with the sap of the Tree. Lillah hated the smell of it and the feel of it. The hardness of it hurt her head. But this was meant to make them equal, to ensure one with beautiful hair did not influence the fathers. Those with ugly hair should have just as much of a chance at this stage. Of course, once the physical testing began, that could change.

  Lillah sat next to Erica, who had thin, frizzy hair, which she kept tied back with thick grey twine. It irritated her face, wispy bits blowing into her eyes, feathery ends tickling her cheeks. They all sat in a circle on the beach. The sand was soft and warm and she could have easily slept. It was not like here everywhere, and Lillah had a moment of doubt about the journey. Should she leave? Or should she stay, where the sand was soft and warm?

  At the end of the seawalk waited the fathers. They would decide between them who should go. Lillah was frightened of them: she knew they saw right to her soul, and would see her lying by the blackening of her blood.
Not that I've lied. Just that perhaps I smile
more on the outside than the inside
, she thought.

  She watched as Melia skipped back up the seawalk. She was gratified to see a tinge to Melia's face; reddened from too much sun, or from the questions the fathers had asked. Lillah and Melia were great friends and great rivals.

  "How was it?" Erica asked as Melia stepped off the seawalk. For a moment she didn't speak, just stood clenching her toes in the sand.

  "Hot," she said. She shook her head at further requests for information and sat in the circle again.

  "Lillah. You're next," Aquifolia said. Aquifolia had no children of her own, so she had found a new position for herself, organising the teacher trials. She rarely took a lover. Her hair was like straw, her legs thick and pale like a root too soon exposed. She made it clear that she had sacrificed herself. Given her life so the girls would have an easy preparation for school is what she said, but truly she had only given up what she would never have. In the four Orders she had visited before stopping at Lillah's, she had found no affection. She was not happy. Lillah and Melia had discussed her choices. She'd stayed in Ombu for one man, Gutt, who had failed to impregnate her and then drowned. She frightened the other men and they wanted nothing to do with her.

  Melia said, "In so many ways I pity her. She can't have children. She has no family."

  "At least she is free to grow herself, do this job, become stronger. We will be mothers and not much else," Lillah said.

  Melia shook her head. "You have a foolish view of being a mother. It expands you; it doesn't contract or confine you. Perhaps you should stay behind, if that's the way you feel. Don't go to school at all."

  Lillah jumped up and ran to the seawalk. "I want this, I want this," she said. She wanted to go to school, she had to go. She rested a plate of sweets on her hip. She hoped they wouldn't get too sandy and regretted running out of the house, too lazy to find a cover for the food. She couldn't bounce lightly for fear of spilling it. Lillah was proud of her sweets knowledge. There was magic in her fingertips: she could roll a ball so perfect diners couldn't bear to bite.

  "You should calm down," Erica said. "They don't like agitated teachers."

  "Thank you for your advice, Erica. Of course you're right." Lillah couldn't stand being told what to do by Erica, who was as serious as she was beautiful. Melia and Lillah sometimes tried to tease her, but she had so little laughter in her it was not worth the effort.

  She walked out onto the rough boards of the seawalk. She walked gently, toe to heel, knowing this was the way to avoid splinters. Her feet were tough from rock-walking, Tree-climbing, sea-walking, but even so, she would return to her place in the circle with at least a few sharp pieces of wood to remove.

  The fathers sat fanning themselves at the end of the seawalk.

  Melia's mother Cynthia sat watching on the shore, her feet thrust into the water. She had always been adventurous, from the moment she arrived in the Order. She had come from a place where the land stretched only a kilometre from beach to Trunk. The population was low and the people conservative, as if their small living space meant smaller minds. She always said her Order was dead; she had no intention of going back, neither would any other woman chosen as a teacher. Cynthia knew of just two teachers from other Orders who had chosen to stay in Parana but she guessed they would leave with homelust once their children were raised. The young women would leave as they always had. Only the males would stay, standing hopelessly looking up the beach for a mate.

  The sun was strong out on the water and Lillah walked slowly, loving the warmth of it. It was so good to be warm. On days when most of the work was done, everybody liked to parade on the seawalk, sitting down, snoozing, catching up on some of the sunlight they missed under the Canopy.

  Her feet felt sharp pains as splinters worked their way into her heels.

  "Come on, Lillah, there are other girls to talk to," Melia's father called. "Let's speed it up, please."

  I know that, I've just been sitting in a circle pretending to wish them luck for an hour, Lillah thought. She forced a smile on her face and knelt down before the fathers. "Hello," she said. The sun was in her eyes and she had to squint. She could feel the heat of it burning her, and knew she would look red for the physical judging in the evening. Lillah cursed herself for leaving her hat behind. She couldn't hold her plate of sweets and keep her hat safe from the wind, and she had chosen the sweets. Perhaps not such a good idea.

  Suddenly, from land, came a terrible cry. Lillah instantly thought of someone crushed, trapped beneath a massive fallen Limb and legs crushed to jelly.

  "It must be Magnolia," Thea's father said. "It's time." Lillah jumped up in shock. Her plate of sweets fell to the seawalk and shattered.

  "Is she all right?" Lillah asked, realising as she spoke they couldn't possibly know.

  "You run to find out, Lillah. Then come back to tell us." Lillah nodded and ran, not caring about the splinters now. She could work them out later with a long, thin bone needle, line them up like a score to show Magnolia how much she cared.

  Lillah ran past the spectators, the pot makers and the young women waiting their turn. "What is it, Lillah? What did they say?" she heard Erica call.

  "Nothing yet, it's Magnolia," she shouted over her shoulder as she ran.

  "I'll come with you," Melia said.

  The shriek rang out again. Lillah felt her stomach clench and her legs falter. She did not want to see this. She did not like blood or pain. She had seen a man crushed by a Tree Limb, once, speared through the belly and anchored across the legs. The screams Lillah heard now equalled those of Araucari when that Tree Limb fell. This was worse, in fact. There was something very animalistic about it. Monkeylike.

  Lillah and Melia ran.

  As they approached Logan's house, Lillah stopped. She did not want to see. She wanted to go back to her interview, make them love her. Let them choose her as Number One, exclaim over her bonsai, score her highly for it and say how clever she was, how like the Tree it was. Let them lick their fingers to savour the last taste of her sweets. Let them say, "Lillah, we are unanimous in our decision."

  The wails were much louder, now. Lillah could not imagine how her sister-in-law, a slight woman with delicate fingers, could make such a noise.

  Lillah and Melia entered the house. It was smaller than their own, but much neater. Magnolia had been nesting in the six days before. Every surface sparkled. Everything had a place.

Magnolia roared.

  "Oh, my, is she all right? Where's the Birthman? Can't he help?"

  Lillah felt tears forming in her eyes. "Magnolia," she said. She knew she had to face this or run away forever. She stepped forward to the front door and pushed it open. She felt as if a wave of heat, miasmic heat, came pouring out. She choked.

  Melia said, "I don't think they need me. I'll tell the others you'll be along."

  Lillah heard "Nononononon", and she ran then, knocking over a jug, ignoring the smash and the mess.

  "Logan?" she called. "Magnolia?"

  Her father opened the door to the bedroom and stepped out. Lillah gasped at his exhausted face, his slumped shoulders.

  "Lillah," he said. "Your interview."

  "They said I could come to find out about Magnolia. Is she okay? What's happened?"

  Her father leaned one hand high on the door frame then rested his head against his straightened arm. "It's okay, Lillah. She's exhausted, but I think we're nearly there. We are into the second day. I wish I could take over for her. You want to take the suffering of the children."

  "You look exhausted yourself. Can't you call someone to help?" Her father shook his head weakly. "The Birthman is here. He's doing all he can." He stood back and opened the door wide, so Lillah could see inside.

  "I'm trapped, I'm caged," Magnolia wailed. Her eyes flicked open suddenly and Lillah jumped back. She thought Magnolia was going to sit up, point a finger, say "It is your fault", then collapse back on the bed.

  "You're not trapped," Lillah said from the doorway, braving her sister-in-law.

  "I'm trapped. There's no place to go but forward."

  Lillah's father nodded. "Women always say strange things when they're in labour. Don't they?" He looked at the Birthman.

  "The funniest things, some of them. Scream abuse at their men. Some of the things you hear! It's like they've been saving it up for their entire life, to spew out when no one will blame them."

  Lillah stepped away and her father said, "Come on, we'll go out for a few blinks."

  In the kitchen, Melia brewed tea. Lillah leaned forward and kissed her father. "I only hope I find a father-in-law as loving and accepting as you are to Magnolia. I wish I could stay here. Can't they send a husband to me? I don't mind waiting."

  Tears came to Myrist's eyes. "You would not miss this journey for all the Bark on the Tree. It is a wonderful time. The learning, the joy. The hard work, too, they tell me, but the joy of guiding the children through their education…"

   "I barely remember my teachers," Lillah said. The fresh water boiled, and they knocked at the bedroom door once, then again when there was no response.

"Magnolia? Logan?" she called quietly.

  "Come in," Logan said. Lillah opened the door and entered, her father so close behind she could feel his heart beat.

  There was blood in the room. The smell of it hung heavy, and the smell of waste, too. Magnolia lay slumped on the bed. The Birthman, Pittos, looked exhausted. He washed his hands, dried them on his apron. He was a very large man who almost filled the room. Lillah and the other children had loved him when they were little. Even as a young man he could carry six of them; one on his shoulders, one on his back, one under each arm and one clinging to each leg. He would stomp about, roaring and spinning like a giant salmon trying to shake off lice. When Rhizo had arrived, one of four teachers escorting ten children, she was light, like cobwebs, and she giggled like bird call. He fell in love with her and courted her with songs and playfulness. She fell in love with his joy of children.

  Overcoming his tiredness, he smiled brightly at Lillah and Myrist as they entered the room.

  "Myrist, I think we should change the sheets. Freshen up." Lillah's father nodded. Lillah helped change the blood-stained sheets while Logan held Magnolia, who was panting so quickly Lillah wondered she didn't faint.

  "We're getting there, darling," the Birthman said. He stroked Magnolia's brow. "Some way to go, but we're getting there."

  Magnolia opened her eyes wide as a new contraction rose within her. She rolled over onto her hands and knees and threw her head back. She roared. Logan rubbed her back, stroked her forehead.

  "Is this normal?" he said. "Is she okay?" The Birthman nodded. "It's long, but she's fine, and so is the baby. We just need patience." He dipped a cloth into a bowl of dark-tinted water and gave it to Magnolia to suck. "This will help with the pain."

  Magnolia sank back on her bed, eyes closed, then another contraction took her.

  "Wonderful. That's just wonderful," Pittos said. He looked between Magnolia's legs and said, "This is good. That pain moved things along."

  Logan sat, straight-backed, on the bed. Lillah could tell, even in these circumstances, he was presenting a face: a stoic, strong, loving face. He was that way; stoic, strong and loving, but he wanted everyone to know it, to think it of him.

  Things moved quickly, then. Lillah kept back, watching Magnolia's face, knowing it was her but not recognising her at the same time.

  There was a cry, a baby's cry and Pittos held a pink baby boy. He cleaned the child very carefully, with a soft, oiled cloth, smoothing him, cooing to him, creating a space of calm.

  Somehow people crowded into the room, as if they sensed the moment had come. Someone said to Magnolia, "Don't be disappointed it's a boy. More people have boys than girls, you know. You're normal."

  Magnolia smiled. "Thanks." She saw Lillah stick her tongue out behind the woman's back and laughed. "I'll try to be happy."

  "Do all these people need to be here?" Lillah said. The Birthman looked up, shook his head.

  "Right, everybody, please, out," Lillah said. She pushed Morace, Pittos' red-headed son, roughly in the back. He clung to his father's legs, but Pittos shook him off. "We need firewood and food, we need the news spread, we need clean clothes and we need space. You've all been wonderful but it's time to go." Lillah had no idea if any of this was true but it didn't matter. The people nodded.