revised excerpt from Of a Flower: Chapter 2
in-progress novel written by Kevin Liang
Inside the forest, there was hardly anymore sunlight. Only a few slivers managed to penetrate through the dense foliage above. In due time, their warmth would be extinguished, and the forest would be left to the cold blue darkness of the night.
But it never did descend into total darkness. Because, as the sunlight faded, orbs of light began to softly illuminate the century-old trees with their serene glimmer. They meandered carelessly around the branches above and along the forest floor, sometimes bumping into unsuspecting travelers that passed by these woodlands. The orbs never cared, and simply continued their waltz into the night.
I never learnt what they were. My father didn’t quite understand them either. But I did not regard them with fear. Instead, I smiled as I always did, and spoke out to them. “I am home.” They were, after all, the only ones I could say that to. I had often fantasized they responded in kind, asking if I was well and clamoring to hear the details of my day.
Then remembered the businessman’s words. The words he spoke during that brief encounter at the storefront. Upon this remembrance, they began to echo through my head, over and over, in that same tone he had used. The spirits, it kept saying. The spirits. Spirits. A word that had a natural place within me. But for whatever reason, the way he said it—it made it unfamiliar once more. The spirits.
I tried to shake off the feeling. Eventually, I distracted myself by thinking about what I would prepare for dinner. The trail eventually broke into large clearing within the woods. Here, the last rays of the evening could reach the floor.
It was an artificial clearing. Most of the trees had been cut down, which afforded the sun’s radiance. A garden of flowers and other ferns blanketed the space, their growth enabled by the thinner foliage from above. A stream ran aside the space, snaking through it. with great vitality. In the past, these conditions came together to make the space seemingly glow with color. Now, their colors were seemingly muted, inhibited by an invisible force.
A stone cottage stood in the middle of the clearing; a leftover from my father. It was well built, despite its looks. A mixture of moss and vines had overgrown their franchise and taken over the stone walls. I never minded their contribution, however. They blended the cottage with the forest.
In the stream nearby spun a large watermill. It had its own oakwood deck to accompany it, along with a bridge across the stream. The sound of the mill’s steady and perpetual displacement of water filled the clearing through night and day. Black vines protruded from the mill’s shed to the cottage, where it was accepted by the green tangle of the natural vines. They had begun to branch out along the cable line.
I walked through the flowerfield and up the stone steps of the cottage. At the door, I stopped and reached into my basket, searching for the keys amongst the flowers. As I looked down, I caught a glimpse of a small figure out of the corner of my eye.
I stopped and peered up. The figure noticed and frantically hid behind a tree. Although it was a brief glimpse, I recognized what appeared to be a little girl. My hand slipped out of the basket, and I slowly turned toward the forest.
Hesitating, I spoke softly. “…Are you lost?”
There was no reply. I could, however, see curls of blonde hair poking out from behind the tree, illuminated by the light of the orbs. It was not a color I was familiar with.
I watched quietly for a reaction. The hair, however, was patiently still.
Gathering the courage, I straightened up and repeated myself a little louder.
Silence followed again, but after a few moments, the tuft of hair peeked out from behind the tree. I saw that she was indeed a child, and from her expression, she was even more frightened than I was.
Who was this girl? I had thought. And what was she doing here? Alone, deep in the woods where I lived. I looked around to see if there was anyone else.
But there was none. Only the orbs of light. I looked back at the girl. She was looking around as well, only to focus back on me once she realized she had my attention again.
As I took a small step forward, the girl began to creep behind the tree again. I retracted my step and gripped my hands at my waist in front of me, in clear view for the girl.
“Do not worry, I won’t harm you.” I did my best to smile, but not too much. I was not one to invite strangers into my house. But I could not bear the thought of leaving the child out in the wilderness. Not as night falls.
The girl did not move, and stayed perfectly still once more. How I must have appeared to her as a witch. A forest dweller, inviting a small child into her mossy hovel. I disliked the image, and wanted to avoid the situation altogether. But, at the same time, I could not leave her alone in the dark.
My mind paced frantically on what to do. I did not dare to move towards her again, afraid of scaring her off. But upon further inspection, I realized she was not looking directly at me anymore. It was almost as if her gaze had fallen down, looking at my feet. I followed and saw the basket of flowers I had been carrying, which had swung with my arms to rest in front of me.
Looking back up, I could see the girl glance up at me briefly before looking back down. Keeping my eyes on the girl, I carefully reached into my basket and felt for the stem of a flower. As I gently pulled one out, I saw the little girl’s expression change, her eyes following my hand.
I held still for a few moments, analysing her expression. Without too much thought, I eventually squatted down and extended my arm, offering the flower to the girl. It was a Hyacinthum flower; a light blue flower with seven long petals.
The girl’s eyes lit up. After hesitating for what felt like several seconds, she finally stepped out from behind the tree and slowly crept forward into the clearing, allowing me to see her a little clearer.
She was a thin little figure, covered in old rags and wrapped by a ragged light brown cloak as large as herself. The odd part was the black headband with white frills that she wore, which looked out of place compared to the ragged clothes she was wearing. From the looks of it, she was no older than a five-year-old.
The girl paused and looked up at me again. As if asking for my permission. Not knowing if I should speak, I leaned closer, gently nudging my arm further out. The flower head bounced a little.
A big smile grew across her face, and before I knew it, she swiftly dashed through the field at a startling pace. Once I had realized what happened, she was already at the bottom of the stone steps I stood on. On instinct, I took a hobbled step backwards and retracted my arm. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, urging me to flee. For whatever reason, however, I did not. I forced myself to hold my ground. The girl, seemingly realizing my fright, broke her smile and took a few steps back, distancing herself from me. From there, she inspected with the same watchful eyes she had before, as if awaiting my next move.
After a while, I judged that there was no harm intended, and stepped back towards her, extending my arm once more. I dipped it down so that the girl could reach for it. She treaded forward at a carefully predictable pace and accepted the flower with both of her small, outstretched hands. Once I had let go and fully transacted the gift, she immediately returned to her previous glee, hugging the flower closely and swinging her little body side to side.
I was bewildered by her transformation. A nervous laugh broke out from within my chest as I watched her celebration. She no longer looked any different than what one might expect from a child. Still, something did not feel quite right about the girl.
I began to back away towards the door, slowly standing up. The girl perceived my retreat and glanced back up with unflinching eyes. I abruptly stopped and stared back at her, anticipating her next set of actions. We stood silent for a few moments, watching each other, before the girl’s expression changed once again. Looking guiltily down at her gift, she extended her small arms back at me, as if handing back the flower.
I realized she had mistaken my silence as a request to return the flower. Shaking my head, I squatted back down and tried to converse with the girl. “My name is Elisabeth. Do you live out here? Where are your parents?”
Her face slid behind the flower, shaking her head. She did not say a word, nor a murmur.
“You don’t know where your parents are?”
The girl shook her head again.
That was what I had feared. What was I to do next? I could try and help find her parents, but it would not be an easy task in this forest. Especially as night falls. As far as I was aware of, no one else lived this deep into the forest.
The girl circled around me to walk back into my view. I had stared off to the side as I was pondering. The girl looked uncertain what to do. Perking my head back up, I smiled. “Cheer up, I will help you find your parents, okay?”
The girl shook her head again.
Not knowing what else to say, I slowly stood up. “Either way, it will be getting dark soon.” I said as I looked towards the dusky purple sky. After some hesitation, I continued. “Would you… like to stay here for the night?”
The girl smiled and vividly nodded.
I laughed. “Very well, then.” Turning back to the threshold, I found my keys and unlocked the door. With a creak, I pushed it open and stepped into the dark. Once I glanced back, I was surprised to see that the girl had sat down on the stone steps, facing out towards the flower field. I tilted to the side a little to get a better look at her. Easing my hand on the door, I walked back to the threshold.
“You can come inside, you know.”
The girl turned around and looked up, the flower still close to her face.
“You can come inside,” I repeated. “Safer than staying out in the dark.”
Her gaze fell, looking beyond me into the dark hallway. Quickly realizing my own contradiction, I felt for the light switches and flicked them.
The dim hallway lights sputtered on. The brighter dining room light followed after, filling the house with its warm glow. The act elicited a complex reaction out of the girl, a mixture of astonishment and fascination. She sat completely still, peering into the house as if she had seen a ghost.
I waited where I was, holding the door open. Had I frightened her? Collections of plants and flowers of all sorts of sizes were scattered around the hallway. Potted shrubs and ferns sat at every corner, surrounded by smaller plants and numerous flowers. Perhaps the intermingling foliage with the desks, chairs, and other furniture made the space a little eerie.
The girl finally moved, standing up and walking towards the doorway, stopping briefly at the elevated threshold to carefully step over it. Once inside, I gently closed the door and secured it. Leaving my shoes by the door, I walked past the girl and into the dining room. She watched me silently, then followed. I realized she had no shoes.
In the room was a larger gallery of flowers. Their aroma overpowered the space, thickening the air with the smell of pollen and herbs.
“Sorry, it is a little dingy in here. I don’t often have guests over…” I glanced around, looking at the mess of potted plants scattered around the kitchen. “Here, I can open up a—”
But as I reached for the kitchen window, I heard rapid little footsteps rushing past me and towards the back corner. Numerous vases of flowers were stacked up on a large wooden table. They were all wilting; their leaves shriveled up and the petals losing their color. Still, the girl took a liking to them, leaning on the table ledge, which was just about her chest height, and excitedly surveying them.
I slacked and gently smiled. Walking over to the table, I scooched in beside her and started arranging the flowers from my basket into the vases.
“These are all the flowers that were not able to sell before they aged too much,” I explained as I slid a pale red flower amongst the back row. “I tried to grow them here, but unfortunately they lose their magic after they’ve been uprooted.”
The girl looked at me in a sort of somber manner, her eyebrows knitted and her mouth petitely open as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Turning back, she tenderly reached one of her small hands to the center and stretched her fingers out wide.
“You’re welcome to take some of them if you’d like.” I examined the shelf closely, looking for flowers that were due for disposal. Spotting a withering flower, I reached over to pull it out. But as my fingers touched the stem, it suddenly began to glow, its radiance growing brighter before it regained its vigor and restorated to full bloom. I hastily retracted my hand as all around it, other flowers began to sparkle as well before they too recovered their vibrance.
I then realized the girl, whose hand was outstretched above the bouquet, was the source of the glow, feeding streams of golden energy-like substance to the assembly. The energy rejuvenated their heads and leaves; their stems straightened back once more.
Baffled, I watched in silence. The glow eventually faded away, leaving the flowers in full color, as if they were just gathered today. The girl’s hand retracted back to grip the blue flower she had held closely since I gave it to her, and she returned to her childish swinging side to side.
This time however I did not laugh. I was spellbound by the flowers, stepping in closer to see if they had truly rejuvenated. Touching their stems and stroking their petals, they had indeed felt fresh again. Even their fragrance regained its tanginess, and I was blasted by their rich aromas all at once.
I gazed in amazement at the girl. She looked back, and proudly smiled.