Walking the Tree (12 page)

  
We carry a bag of secrecy for Torreyas.

  
We carry painted leaves for Parana.

  
We carry coloured sand for Arborvitae.

  "I'll pick up some sticks when we get close to Sargassum, if I am still travelling. Or someone will." Lillah and Melia walked behind the group so the breeze carried their words away.

  "Do you think he will be waiting?" Melia said. The messenger to the market from Aloes last time was a handsome young man who had asked Lillah when she would become a teacher. "I'll be waiting," he'd said. Lillah had told him he would be her first stop.

  Lillah nodded. "I hope so. I hope he's up to it."

  "There's been one school through since then. Hopefully he's been practising."

  "Oh, no! Do you think he'll think I'm foolish? Useless? Inexperienced? What if I don't know what to do?"

  "They say it's very natural, so long as you don't think too hard about it."

  "I can't help thinking. That's who I am."

  When they stopped for a rest, the teachers lifted their skirts and rubbed sand gently onto their thighs, knees and shins.

  "What are you doing?" the children asked.

  "Just smoothing our legs," Melia said. The children shook their heads and ran to play in the waves. The ways of the teachers were mysterious.

  "But why?" Rham said.

  "You don't need to know everything, Rham," Lillah said. Sometimes the questions were too much for her.

  Lillah and Melia remembered the Order Aloes from when they walked with school. The people smelt very different to their own people, that sickly smell of jasmine distilled. The flowers grew where

Lillah lived, but not in vast quantities.

  None of the children had been here before and were excited at the prospect of a feast and, perhaps, gifts. They lifted their tired legs and ran.

  Morace stayed by Lillah's side.

  "Mother says these people will hit me if I let them," he said. "I don't think I'll let them."

  "I'm not sure where your mother heard about that, but it's not true. They won't hit you," Lillah said, though she exchanged a glance with Melia. Their fathers had warned them: "On the first three nights all will appear perfect. On the second three nights you will be dear friends. On the third three nights they will begin to tire of your presence, and by the twelfth night you will see them for what they really are. This is true for every Order you'll meet. That's why you will stay twenty-eight days. After twenty-eight days you will know and accept who the people are."

  "Here, let's look at what message Tilla has for me on the stone." She pulled it out of her pocket and held it in her palm. He had etched a horizon line which seemed to enter the stone and go on into eternity. Path without end. No return.

  "Foolish old man," Lillah said.

  "He doesn't think we're coming back, does he?"

  "He is a know-nothing. How many schools has he seen return in his lifetime? Many dozens."

  Lillah dug a hole in the sand with her heel, dropped the stone in and covered it up.

Morace giggled. "He'll be mad."

"He'll never know."

  Morace held up his smoothstone, a very old one from his father. "Should I bury this, too?"

  "No! The smoothstones are past and future, all possibility. Not nasty like that thing." She flipped her head. "You keep your stone. Where is the one you found?"

  "I didn't find one. Father gave me this one instead."

  "We will find you one as well. It is important to select your own smoothstone. Part of your growing."

 

They could smell the Jasmine as they approached early in the evening. They walked along a path lined either side with small david-saplings.

  "Welcome to Aloes," a beautiful woman with reddened skin said. She smiled.

  The man Lillah had thought about for many months was waiting for her, leaping up and down. "You're here! You're here!"

  Lillah looked at him and thought, Dickson. He has as little grace as Dickson. He took her hand and tried to lead her away. He said aloud, "No one leaves here unsatisfied!" but someone said "Let's let everyone settle in first." The woman with reddened skin said to Lillah, "No one wanted him at the last school so he can't contain himself."

  Lillah felt all desire leave her, and felt terribly disappointed by it. She no longer wanted this man. Were there others here she would find attractive?

  Lillah saw another familiar face. "Look, Melia, it's that teacher from Chrondus. Do you remember? Corma. She told us those great stories. Creepy stories."

  Melia looked. "The ones about that killer? What he'd done? I guess she stopped here. She looks as if she has caught child, doesn't she?"

  "What killer?" Thea asked. "What did she mean by that? Why didn't she tell me?"

  "You were probably swimming, Thea. You would rather swim than talk. We have not seen it, but some will take the life of others without a thought."

  Thea said, "Never."

  Erica snorted. "You say that, Thea. Yet you swim with children without the slightest thought of their safety."

  "That was not my fault, Erica. Nobody says it was my fault."

  "You think so?"

  "We are not talking about that, now," Lillah said. "That is in the past."

  "You can't forget the past simply because you don't like what sits there, Lillah," Erica said.

  Lillah said, "Do you remember the nightmares we had after she told us those stories? I'm sure that's her. Corma. She must have decided to stay. Her school is long gone."

  Lillah approached the teacher. They had enjoyed her company.

  "Corma, it's me. Lillah. From Ombu. You came through with your school. I thought you might even stay with us."

  Corma was red-cheeked. She nodded. "I nearly did stay. I hated the walking. Awful. I won't be walking home, ever." She rested her hands on her belly. Lillah looked down.

  "Have you caught child?"

  Corma smiled. "Yes, I have. But they didn't tell me something beforehand. Well, two things. The Jasmine is so powerful that it's dangerous to women who have caught child. They don't tell you that. And they are going to send me away to have the baby. They have no knowledge of childbirth here. They have no Birthman!"

  "You know, I remember women from here coming to us to see our Birthman. Is that why? I never really wondered."

  "They either go to your Order or to Ailanthus," said Corma. "My husband, Hippocast, wants to go to Ailanthus, because he's heard about the nut fish they make there. He thinks with his belly, that man. I want to stay here. I don't want to walk any further."

  Melia said, "It's very nice here. Very neat."

  "They are very neat here. Very clean. Have you seen inside their homes? They spend a lot of the day cleaning. They don't achieve much else, but their houses are clean."

  "I love the shells lined up along the paths. And the bowls decorated with shells."

  Corma nodded. "It's like magic at night. It's one of the reasons I chose to stay."

  "We heard about the paths," Lillah said.

  "They are beautiful. It's taken time, but there they are." And she was right. That night the shells glowed gently, leading the way to homes and woodcaves. In one of the kitchens, the welcomeschool dinner cooked. Four huge pots containing a wonderful-smelling stew.

  Borag came to Lillah. "Do you smell that? Can we watch it being cooked?"

  "Let's go."

  Hand in hand they walked to the kitchen, where the cooks welcomed them, happy to talk about their work.

  "Slow cooked food is the best," the cook said. "There's no room for panic, it's done anytime between now and then. Nothing overcooks or spoils and you eat when you are ready to eat. The wind will not come this dayseason. We can work on our food without rushing for safety."

  "And the smell," Lillah said. She breathed deeply. It was good, rich and meaty with an undertone of flowers. There was an undertone of flowers everywhere in this Order, even out on the water.

  "We know that everything in food has a match," the cook said. "In the ground this is true, and also in the pot."

  The welcoming feast that night began with a bathing session. One of the men said, "We know that some Orders have sea sponges wash up to their shore. Have you heard of this? They soak up water and you can carry them filled." The Order sighed as if this was a treasure they would love to have.

  Next came a demonstration of the bonsai Trees by the young girls. The girls set their tiny Trees out to show the school.

  "When are we going to eat?" Borag said. Melia handed her some dried fruit to nibble.

  "Their bonsai are not very good," Thea whispered. Her fingers twitched.

  "You leave them alone. No Leaf plucking. They have their Trees the way they want their Trees. I can't believe you're feeling lonely for a tiny Tree when you sit beneath our great one."

  Thea said, "I can't believe you're not missing your bonsai. How do you forget it like that?"

  "Don't frown, Thea. You won't be chosen if you frown."

  "Everyone's chosen if they want to be, Lillah. I know that. You know that. Don't try to make me nervous."

 

Lillah sniffed deeply at the meat, trying to get beyond the jasmine to the food. Ensure it wasn't bad.

  The local woman took Jasmine oil and seaweed fresh from the sea and ground them together to make a paste.

  "This firms the skin, keeps it smooth," they said. The teachers sat while the stuff was plastered on their faces. Lillah could feel it stinging and imagined it drawing out the poisons of the walk.

  Everybody laughed; Morace sat at the end, waiting for his mask. "Stop being a fool," Erica snapped at him.

  They sat within a circle of the glowing shells. These ones were very small, lined up by the hundreds, a work of art.

  "There was once a time when the Tree had no room at its roots. People lived like maggots, writhing over one another, crowded and hungry. They lost interest in the Tree, forgot to leave sacrifices or to worship it, and the Tree grew angry. The Tree's anger burns from within. You know the Tree feels fury when the Trunk is hot to the touch. When the Trunk is cool, the Tree is placated.

  "The Tree was not placated at this time. The Trunk burnt hot, so hot that when a man touched it, he burned to the wrist. His head was so hot his eyeballs melted, and those who touched him burned, those who touched them burned. Their foreheads burned so hot they made the sea boil when they tried to cool in it. A monster filled the Tree and that was it.

  "Spikes spread quickly and no one knew how to cure it. Soon there were bodies floating out to sea on rafts by the day. Sent to the sea monster to eat. The empty rafts drifted back to our shores, but they were changed. Somehow the sea monster ate the bodies and changed the rafts."

  As the fire burned the cook stepped forward and back ritualistically, respecting the fire. Jasmine brewed tea was passed around. Lillah found it bitter and horrible, but she drank it. Jasmine rice to go with a fish stew, and that tasted good. Agara offered the bonsai Tree as apology for any small wrong they might do, any small misunderstanding. She received a jar of Jasmine oil in return.

  They ate very late. Most of the children had been given their bowls already and were fast asleep. There came a sudden great splashing from the sea, as if a huge wave had descended. The adults paused, waiting for it to subside.

  Thea began to cry. "I don't want to hear that here. We hear it at our place and it frightens me."

  "Does anyone know what it is?" Lillah asked.

  They tutted her. "We do not wonder. Wondering is dangerous. Things just are as they are and do not be curious."

  The man Lillah had thought would be her first lover was sitting at Thea's feet, massaging them. He didn't pursue Lillah. It seemed he liked an easy win; did not like to battle for it. Thea looked terrified. A quiet man with deep brown eyes the same colour as the Trunk attended to Lillah, bringing her more tea, which she refused, then some fermented tea that warmed her and made her smile at him.

  "You feel warm and good because there is an element in the tea that affects the way your blood feels. Our bodies are affected by everything we take into them."

  The men around him laughed. "We call him Brother Answer. He cannot simply accept. He needs to know why."

  Thea plucked in the air at imaginary leaves.

  "What is she doing?"

  "Her bonsai. She misses it."

   "My name is Bursen," he said. He smiled at Lillah in such a way, as if she was special. "Are you tired still? How many days did you walk?"

  His questions calmed her, and they spoke about walking and the moon, how pleasant it was to walk by moonlight. How different the moonlight was from the sunlight muted through the trees. His voice was deep and soft and he looked at her intently as they spoke. He didn't try to touch her, as she had seen over-eager men do, didn't push her or pull her or try to force her to do anything. She felt comfortable and happy. He brought her food and only then, once she had eaten, and rested, and relaxed, did he gently take her hand and begin to stroke the fingertips. He stroked her wrist so gently she barely felt it, but it sent a flutter through her, a heartbeat.

  Erica bent over her belly, taken with moon pains. Lillah felt sorry for her: this was not a good time for the bleed. One of the women took some jasmine cream to her and began to rub it into her stomach with gentle yet firm circular movements. Erica closed her eyes, too much in pain to protest.

After a while, she opened her eyes.

  "It worked. The pain is far less now. Thank you." The woman led her away to make her comfortable somewhere and to make it clear the men would not select her in this condition.