Agnes broke with us at the train station. “Come visit the schoolhouse some time,” she invited once again as we said our goodbyes. “The children wouldn’t mind a doll to play with.” I chuckled and told her I work during school hours. She then insisted I visit her home in the city, and left us with a wave as the train pulled away. Jane and I were mostly silent on the way back, gazing out at the city scenery as we stood near the bridge plate, remarking now and then on a few sights that changed. Once we broke out into the familiar countryside, we uttered not a single word, letting the afternoon sun wash us white of any troubling thoughts or aches in our bodies. We were not the only ones that gazed out at the country with languid ease. From the seats and aisle, other passengers watched the hills roll and the trees whisk by their window, their faces placid, sighing happily as the summer wind blew through the open door and windows, ruffling their stiff garbs.
At our stop, we spoke briefly about our Sunday tea. Jane seemed to look forward to this week especially, though she would not tell me why. “I’ll leave you in the dark ‘til tomorrow,” she teased.
“Are you finally engaged?” I quipped with a smirk.
“No, never! I…” she blurted with a breathy giggle. A hint of red was blooming from her cheeks. “It’s… Nothing to do with me! You’ll see tomorrow!”
We split off from each other on the road where the gravel ended. From there, the dirt path only led to one destination. As I walked home, alone once more, my ease subsided. With nothing else to do, my mind ran back the events of the day. I thought about what occurred at the market. Seeing someone treated this way always roused me a little. It’s no secret to my friends that the practices of the city always drew my disapproval. Normally, I was able to move past my vexation as I retreated to my haven. This time, for some reason, this one stuck. It stuck like a thorn in my thumb, constantly nagging me to scratch it some more. Sighing, I tried to flush out these thoughts and think about something happy, but something stopped me. I realised this was a familiar position I found myself in.
I kept walking. Eventually, I admitted to myself: I behaved a little uneasy in front of my friends. Perhaps more than a little.
Was it the charms and dream catchers? The mention of their outlawed state? And, by extension, the spirits? Right, before that as well, with the first merchant we spoke to. Was I a touch too impatient with the man, once he started talking about sheltering spirits? He could not possibly tell, could he? We’d only just met, after all.
Sheltering spirits. I… was sheltering one. Maybe. Thinking back to this morning, it was such a blur. I never did determine whether it was real or not. The flowers were the only thorn to my convenient denial. Did I betray my uncertainty? Did Jane pick up my uneasiness? Though an outward fool, she was amazingly perceptive to my state of mind.
Taking a breath, I tried to coax myself. I was being too paranoid. Nobody pays attention to a quiet girl. They would not heed to the small details I focus on. Nor the large ones, for that matter. If there ever was a spirit at my house, it was gone now. I will tell myself that. If it does come back, well, then… I will pretend I didn’t see it. I will pretend I never saw it. It can stay out in the wilderness. I know it truly wasn’t a little girl.
I raised my eyes back to the horizon, shaking out the troubling musings. A breeze welcomed me back from the ruminations, brushing my long brown hair into my face. The forest edge was clearly visible now, a sign I was already a few minutes from the outskirts. My gaze drew higher, pulled by an invisible string to the grand blue expanse above. Out in the pastures, without a single structure in its way, its power was overwhelming, dwarfing my thoughts. Higher and higher, the clouds seemed to circle around me, as if I was the centre of the world, punching a hole through the sky. My body grew light in as I fell into the perfect blue, flying like a bird, free from the world that rooted me to the ground. Time stopped, and so did I.
I gladly lost myself to the wind, leaving behind my responsibilities for a great length of time. Standing still. In the middle of the path. Staring straight up at the sky. Any onlooker must have thought I’d gone mental.
A stiff breeze blew by. I felt my hat lift off my head. With the reverie broken, I whipped my hand up to clutch the top, keeping the hat pressed onto my head. I waited patiently for the gust to pass. Returning to the forest, I noticed a set of small figures, hunched amongst themselves on top of the delineated line of stones that ran across the rolling hills. The children were playing in the fields again. I smiled, and continued down the path to greet them.
Moving closer, my eyes caught sight of a detail that made my heart skip a beat. Stopping cold on the path, I stared with widening eyes, believing I was seeing things. There were four children sitting on the wall. Two girls, one smaller than the other, both with short brown hair; one boy with darker, brown hair and long fringes; and one little girl with long, curly blonde hair that stretched all the way down to her feet as it crouched.
It was the youngest who noticed me first. Though its back was turned to me, its head perked up as I approached as calmly as I could; its messy tufts of hair bouncing. It turned her head, staring across the pasture with the same, inquisitive eyes, straight into mine. It was only a matter of time before the other pairs of eyes followed. I thought fast.
The oldest girl greeted me, beaming. “Good afternoon, Miss Allen!”
I flashed a quick smile. “Good afternoon children.” Then, I walked up to the blonde child. I saw they were circled around some small stones.
The boy sat up. “Good aftern—”
“Dear, what are you doing here? Your parents are about to head out!” I put my hands on its shoulders, encouraging it to get down from the wall. It looked up at me in utter confusion, its eyes wide with innocent curiosity. I prayed it truly could not talk. The rest of the children stared at me in surprise.
“Do you know her, Miss Allen?” Silas asked.
“Well… yes, she’s my… sister’s child. My niece.” I grew a little flustered at my stuttering.
“Really?” Hazel grew interested. “I didn’t know you had a sister!”
“Sister in law,” I quickly corrected myself. Successfully getting the little girl down from the wall, I pushed it along. “Sorry, dears, but we really must go.” Pushing my luck, I scolded it as softly as I could. “Auntie must be worried about where you are, dear!”
Fortunately, it did not protest, and glided gracefully along as we looped around the wall to the broken gate. It was very easy to push it, as if it weighed no more than a pillow. I realised it was gripping something at its chest. The same blue flower I gave it yesterday.
“Aw, we were having so much fun!” Adeline protested.
Silas swung his legs to dangle from the wall, smiling at the stranger. “Hopefully we’ll meet again… friend.” He looked up. “What’s her name?”
My mind went blank. I stalled for time. “Her name… Did she not tell you?”
“She won’t talk,” Hazel complained.
Adeline giggled. “She was so shy at first, we couldn’t get her out of the forest.”
“Well, you did call her a monster,” Silas pointed out. The word alarmed me, drawing my eyes to the older girl.
“H-hey! I was pretending! I… tha— small details! Uh…” She blushed, flustered, her eyes dropping down to the wall in guilt. After a moment, she turned to the girl without eye contact. “Sorry… I didn’t mean it… um… whatever your name was…”
Easing up, I stared down at the girl, my mind pacing to come up with a good name for her. I recalled the names of some of the characters from the beloved books I read.
“Please tell us her name, Miss Allen,” Silas leaned forward.
Hazel vigorously nodded. “Yes! Please do.”
“… Alice.”
“Alice?” the two sisters said in unison.
“Come, dear, let’s go. Good night, children!”
“Nice to meet you, Alice!” Silas called after us. “Good night, Miss Allen!”
“Good night, Miss Allen!”