Girlwood (21 page)

Sighing, her mother clambered up the slope and knelt beside her. She acted amazed and impressed, just like she had when Polly was little and proudly offered her a terrible finger painting for the refrigerator. Her mom even put her head down to the ground to see the flower's underside.

"Maybe it's better when more are in bloom," Polly said, looking up the cliff. It glowed blue already and soon would be covered with blossoms. It would be pretty, Polly was certain, but hardly worth the effort of hiking all the way here.

Polly's mom caught her arm. "I've never seen this before," she said.

Polly drew back. "What do you mean? You know all the plants around here."

Her mom shook her head. "Obviously not, because I've
never seen this one. Not in all my fieldwork. Not in any book."

Polly looked at the tiny flower.
Faith.
The goose bumps became a full-blown chill.

"Do you know what that means?" her mom went on, looking at the hundreds of fuzzy pink stems just beginning to push through the soil. "If it grows only here? On this slope, in your grove?"

Polly was almost afraid to say it, afraid she'd jinx it. But then she thought of her friends and Baba and the short but magical season they'd all spent in Girlwood, and decided that nothing was too good to be true.

"It means you'll need to change your report," Polly said, "and say there's something worthwhile in the woods after all." Her mother stared at her, and Polly began to smile.

***

As far as the botanists could tell, the flower grew only in the woods around Laramie, in the desolate, rocky soil where nothing else could thrive.

Those damn flowers, Dan Leyland called the new discovery.
Glaucanula parvifolius,
otherwise known as Faith. During the last days of April, they came up everywhere on his land. A judge ordered a midnight injunction, halting all construction until an investigation of the flower's range and habitat could be completed. Dan Leyland hired a team of fancy lawyers to counterattack, but for the moment,
Glaucanula parvifolius,
Faith, looked like an endangered species. There wasn't a thing Mr. Leyland or anyone could do until someone figured out how to protect it.

Polly was thrilled to learn that a tiny flower, the smallest thing, had that much power. Anything could happen at the end of the legal battle, but for now the bulldozers remained silent. In a fit of spite, Dan Leyland marched to the Mountain Winds entrance and turned off the waterfall.

It was all anyone could talk about. Some people argued for the Leylands, saying it was insane to stop a multimillion-dollar project for one little plant, but others rallied around the woods now that something rare and valuable had been found there. People argued about Baba, too. Some said her heart must have given out on a walk through the woods; others suggested that wolves had gotten her. In any case, now that the worst threat had vanished, Olivia's mom softened her stance about Polly. She even drove Olivia out to the cabin one weekend, letting the girls spend their first afternoon together in weeks.

Polly's mom said they could take a walk as long as they stuck to the trails they knew. Olivia and Polly looked at each other, then immediately began gathering spring beauties.

Polly hadn't been back to Girlwood since they'd buried Baba, but now, with Olivia beside her, she knew it was time.

As they approached the grove, though, Polly had second thoughts. When she caught a glimpse of the bright sky and the barren place where the devil's club had been, she looked away.

"Let's go back, Olivia," she said. "Please."

Olivia walked forward alone. "Oh, Polly. It's all right. Look."

Reluctantly, Polly turned back and followed her. Crossing the old borders of Girlwood, so much had changed it was hard to make sense of what she saw. The sky was still too bright, and no traces remained of the giant larches, but along the ground something else had come to life. Polly knelt down and brushed her fingers across a carpet of red and blue blossoms. Faith had sprung up everywhere, along with fireweed, a plant that thrived in clear-cuts and burn sites, in the very places where all hope seemed to be lost. And somewhere beneath the vibrant flowers and stalks lay Baba's grave, forever hidden, the larch seedlings Polly's friends had planted around it already two feet tall.

Polly laughed in relief and threw her arms around Olivia, then set out the spring beauties on a rock. All afternoon, they lay among the flowers and talked of which larch seedlings would become the sides to another shelter, of how Girlwood
would look in ten years, in twenty, in the year when they brought their own daughters to see it. It was only when the light got dim that they started down the mountain, and almost immediately Olivia tugged her sleeve. Joe Meyer was coming up the path, the way he frequently did on weekends. He visited Polly so often, everyone assumed he was her boyfriend, but Polly couldn't tell. It burned her up at night, wondering if he'd ever kiss her, if he was even thinking about it, or if he only thought of her as a friend.

"You guys are so dumb," Olivia said.

Polly turned to her, ready to argue, but Olivia was laughing. "Even I can see how much he likes you."

Joe paused in the path. Maybe he'd heard Olivia. And maybe Polly didn't care. She walked toward him quickly and kissed him before she could talk herself out of it. For a moment, it was her worst nightmare—him just standing there, shell-shocked, not kissing her back. Then he touched the curls on her neck that she still cut herself and pulled her toward him. She felt him smiling beneath the kiss, and she smiled too.

Joe held her hand as the three of them walked back to the cabin, and Polly realized there was no denying it. Spring was everywhere—in the sprawling patch of miner's lettuce in the meadow and the strange and potent herbs that had come up in their yard. And there, on the front porch of the cabin, in the ragged-haired girl with one hand on her bulging belly and the other drawing away from the door, as if she was afraid to knock.

Polly's heart leaped as she recognized the turtleneck she'd left for Bree in Girlwood all those months ago, as her sister turned to meet her gaze at last.

"Bree!" Polly shouted, and began to run. Even with the wind in her ears, and Joe and Olivia running beside her, she heard her mother's cry in the cabin and the pounding of her father's footsteps across the floor. "Bree."

Dear Readers,

I truly believe, as Polly does, that it is real life and not some bedtime story that is enchanted. Magic is everywhere, all the time. An example of that is the energy field around all living creatures—the aura, or light—that Polly sees.

You might be surprised to know that auras are real, and Polly's gift for seeing them is not unusual. These energy fields come in all shapes and colors, and with a little practice, you can see them too. The first step is to get a partner, or stand in front of a mirror. The background should be blank and preferably white. To see the aura, look about two inches away from your partner's (or your) body at the wall. Let your eyes relax into that area the way you'd relax into a hidden 3-D image. Don't look at the body; look beyond it. The aura should appear. Most people have no trouble seeing a narrow band of white light around others, but seeing colors takes more time and patience. According to many experts, different-colored auras mean different things. Purple, for instance, means you are sensitive, artistic, and idealistic. People with green auras are helpful, strong, and friendly. For more information on aura colors and their meanings, along with a quiz to help you discover your own aura color, see my website:
www.clairedean.net
.

Another real-life wonder can be found wherever wild things still grow. I am fortunate enough to have a rustic cabin much like Polly's father's—no electricity, lots of towering pines, water brought in from a stream—where I can forage for and eat many of the same plants Polly discovered near Girlwood. Fireweed (delicious!) and mallow (yes, it
does
taste somewhat like cheese), serviceberries and the red, cucumbertasting berries of twisted stalk, goldenrod leaves (a little chewy) and a scrumptious chickweed salad. Every time I bring home a basket of wild food, I feel capable and strong. It is empowering to be able to take care of myself and my family, at least for one meal! But because edible plants often have poisonous look-alikes and no plant should ever be eaten without one-hundred-percent positive identification, it is essential to use a good field guide. Living in the West, I use
Edible and Medicinal Plants of the West
by Gregory L. Tilford. For more information, see my website or find a field guide that focuses on your area.

It was a joy to create a place as magical as Girlwood, but to my mind real life is far more wonderful and mysterious. Get out into nature. Take a moment to look at the aura around your friends, your pets, even the trees in your yard. The whole world, including you, shimmers.

Best wishes,
Claire Dean