Bird and Branch

Ryan Eviston

“Settle down, everyone! Settle down!” Agnes was already in her seat, the metal legs of the chair rattling with rust as she rocked back and forth inside the little divots in the wooden floor. A loose ball of scrap paper sailed over her head from the boy to her right. “Tucker! Don’t make me get the ruler!” That threat was more than enough to get his butt back on the plastic. “Any-who class, today is a very special day for one reason. Can anyone guess what that reason is?” Several eager hands shot up, Agnes not among them. “Yes, Mary Anne?”

“It’s Friday?” Miss Brinley stifled a laugh and shook her head.

“Not quite, Mary Anne, but I appreciate your thinking! Lord knows I need this weekend…”

“Did you just take the Lord’s name in vain?” Big-mouthed Tucker wasted no time cutting in. Miss Brinley promptly lifted the ruler high, and he lowered his head. She then cleared her throat and motioned for a student sitting at the very front to come forward. Agnes didn’t recognize her one bit, and she put the pieces together on what exactly the deal was very quickly.

“Please give a big hand to the newest addition to Fairhope Elementary!” She leaned down to the girl politely, with her arms folded behind her and whispered in her ear, “say your name nice and loud for all of us.” The girl smiled wide, with messy, curly blonde bangs dipping down and poking at her eyes. They didn’t make a dent in impeding her movements as she triumphantly stepped forward and swung her leg onto the desk, her foot firmly planted like she was a pioneer discovering new land. Agnes noticed right away just how filthy her knee was, absolutely caked in dirt or soot or both. Her overalls were also in desperate need of repair, its right strap broken, and her white undershirt had seemingly been washed in a pond with the way it was stained. The boot on the desk was untied while the laces on the other were absent altogether. As she planted her fists to her sides and smiled wide with her teeth, surprisingly straighter than Agnes envisioned, Agnes did not know what to think of this girl in the slightest, other than that she probably needed a bath or dozen.

“My name is Canary!” she shouted like she was running for president. “Like the bird! Anyone else got a bird name in here?” she glanced around. The volume of her voice had done a much greater job of silencing the class than Miss Brinley could ever hope to accomplish. “Like, like a Robin? Or Colm?” Silence. She was the only bird that flew through these halls. The lack of answers did nothing to deter her as she finally removed her boot with a loud stomp, still keeping her triumphant pose. Miss Brinley kept her waiting as she stared at the polished varnish now mucked beyond belief.

“Thanks, Miss Canary.” Her voice was devoid of enthusiasm now. “Take a seat anywhere you like.”

“Thank you, miss teacher!” The class eyed her as she patrolled the perimeter but looked away as soon as she made eye contact with any of them. Agnes made the mistake of staring just a bit too long and Canary beamed, quickly zooming over and nesting in the vacant seat to her left. As soon as she sat down the class remembered their instructions and delivered a dainty applause. Canary took it in stride and excitedly began picking the dirt from her nails.

“With that out of the way, class, shall we pick up where we left off in Animal Farm?” A few groans sounded through the room as Agnes reached into her desk and pulled out the old paperback. She sighed, knowing the teacher would inevitably call on her to read the most. She loved reading, yes, but not Animal Farm. She didn’t get it, not one bit. She still didn’t even really know what “communism” meant, yet the rate at which Miss Brinley ranted about it made it seem like it was the most important thing since food and church. In her surly stupor, a finger poked at the skin on her arm a couple times and jolted her to attention.

“’Scuse me, uh…what’s it called again?” Agnes blinked at the new girl, Canary, who was no less dirty up close. Tiny splotches of dirt hugged her rosy face, the most pooling under her crooked nose making it seem like she had a mustache. Agnes cautiously breathed through her mouth as she leaned in closer.

“What?” Agnes whispered, already feeling the anxiety on her shoulders from talking out of turn.

“What’s it called? When someone with a house lives next to someone with another house?” Agnes blinked, taking a moment to decipher the canary’s song.

“You mean…a neighbor?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, and Agnes cringed.

“Miss Canary, please keep it down unless you are called upon!” Agnes scratched her arms as Miss Brinley’s warning shook her like a fierce wind.

“Yes ma’am!” Expecting that to have deterred her, Agnes almost bit her tongue off when Canary went right back to chatting her up. “’Scuse me neighbor, but can I look at your book? I don’t got one yet.” She was already scooting her desk closer like she just knew Agnes would say yes. Agnes glanced to the front of the class and to her left, back and forth. Right now she really just wanted this new girl to go away. She was loud, dirty, and probably smelled horrible. She was one more remark away from getting her in trouble and Agnes could not bear to have that conversation with her parents. Reluctantly, Agnes flipped through the yellowed pages and slid the book to the edge of her desk where Canary sat, eyes wide. Maybe doing this now without any more fits would shut her up and the loudness would end.

“Thanks neighbor!” Or not. Thankfully Miss Brinley was caught up in trying to get quiet Sammy to read again and didn’t notice. “What’s your name?” One more word. One more word than she would stop, surely. Agnes took a deep breath and without turning to her, uttered her name so low it was almost inaudible. Canary made a prolonged oooo like that was the most interesting thing in the world.

***

Agnes glanced around in all directions for the umpteenth time as she fastened her bandana in her hair. The day had been too perfect to pass up the opportunity and she was not going to waste it. A couple of kids screamed and laughed as they chased each other all through and around the playground about fifty yards behind her, stomping their feet in the still wet grass after the clouds had finally let up and cast a few golden rays on old Fairhope. The wind sent a chill that gave Agnes goosebumps as she gripped the first few low branches of the black maple. Steadying her breath, she planted her foot on the stump of a sheared branch and slowly began hoisting herself into the tree’s embrace. Being the first dry day in forever, Agnes would be trying for a record today; perhaps maybe…the ninth branch? Or the tenth, if she was feeling really rowdy. Her fingertips made contact with the freshly dried and rough bark, the little sharp bits digging into her skin painfully. She soldiered on and regretted not raiding the cabinet for band-aids to wrap around her fingers. One by one she passed the low branches and ascended into the medium level. The voices beneath became fainter and the breeze blew quicker. As Agnes’ anticipation grew so did her exhaustion, and she decided to take a rest on the sixth branch. With her feet dangling freely, she avoided looking straight down and looked out at the Fairhope Public Park and the sky beyond. Rivers of blue cut through the murky gray clouds and rode the sunlight for as far as the eye could see.

“Sure pretty, ain’t it?” This high up, it must have been the voice of an angel, and Agnes screamed, gripping the branch she sat on for support so hard her palms would be red for days. “Woah! Careful, Nes!”

“How-how did you-!?” Agnes shot her head straight up to see a shoelace dangling amongst the green leaves, and a pair of legs swinging free just as hers had been, only a good six additional branches upward. “You’re crazy! You’re gonna die!” Canary giggled and one-upped Agnes’ nerves by standing upright on the branch. It swayed and cracked under her boots and Agnes shut her eyes tight before she witnessed the dirty girl plummet to the earth with a splat. A few moments passed and the only sound that played in her ears was a soft hum.

“I been higher than this! You shoulda seen the trees back in Connecticut!” The way Canary pronounced Connecticut, annunciating the second C like she was saying “connect-icut” made Agnes’ brain rattle around like a pinball. “The maples are nothing.”

“How long have you been up there?” Agnes reluctantly opened her eyes for just a moment before shutting them once more, vertigo creeping into her stomach.

“Few minutes. I’m trying to get up every tree. There’s a lot though.” A lot was underselling it. There were hundreds of trees around the park. This girl was insane, she had to be. “I didn’t know you also climbed ‘em!” Agnes’ stomach dropped again, a new fear setting in with Canary’s words. She was one witness too many, and Agnes promptly began descending the tree, legs shaking and staying in place for a good dozen seconds to ensure she had a foothold.

“Oh no-no-no.”

“What’s-a matter?” Canary immediately began following her at four times the speed. “Spider crawling on you? Just shake it off before it bites.”

“No! I-I can’t have anyone seeing me! My mom’ll whoop me if she sees I’ve been tree climbing again!”

“Hey-hey!” Canary’s voice was low and quiet for the first time ever. The shock of it actually managed to halt Agnes’ descent. “I won’t tell nobody.” She glanced back up at the monkey in a girl’s body. She mimed zipping her lips shut with a key, before opening her mouth and tossing the invisible key inside and swallowing it. Agnes scoffed. “Promise. Double-triple promise.” Agnes sat down calmly on the fourth branch and sighed. Could she really trust this girl? There was no way to be certain, but perhaps she felt she owed Agnes a favor for letting her read off her copy of Animal Farm. She would have to rely on that. As the two girls went back to looking out at the sky, Agnes stifled her own giggle. Canary craned her head between her legs and stared down at Agnes, her bright-red bandana blowing in the gentle breeze that made the branches groan and snap. “What’s so funny?”

“You wouldn’t be able to open your mouth up after zipping and locking it. You can’t eat the key.”

“Says who?” Agnes was stumped. There was no proper response to that. “I can eat all the keys I want.” Agnes snickered at the absurdity of this girl. She glanced back up once more and met her eyes. They were honey-gold brown, just like hers. “No one’ll be opening doors after I’m through with it.”

“Stop.” Agnes swayed as her body convulsed with laughter. “I’m gonna fall.”

“Sorry!” Canary quickly shot back disconcertedly. She joined Agnes in her contagious laughter as the sun screamed higher in the sky.

***

“I hope you haven’t been walkin’ around town with that Canary girl, Aggie.” Agnes glanced up, putting the pencil on top of her division problems. Her mom was currently stirring a ladle around some freshly mixed pancake batter and scooped a large dollop onto the pan with a sizzle.

“Why?” Agnes took a deep whiff as the pancake cooked, the vanilla filling her sinuses with all things good and holy.

“I’ve heard from Mr. Bruford that she’s been just waltzing all over like she owns the town! Going into folks’ backyards, picking through their gardens, stomping all over the grass, that sorta thing. Just nonstop ruckus, that’s what.” Her mom scooped the extra-large pancake onto a plate and served it to Agnes, who licked her lips in anticipation. “Not so much syrup, darling.” Agnes covertly ignored her and poured increasing amounts whenever she wasn’t looking. Each mouthful was a spongey, heavenly experience that bathed her tongue in ecstasy and sugary sweetness. The pancake was gone before her mom was done chewing Canary out. “That would also explain our pansies disappearing, wouldn’t it?” Agnes opened her mouth to retort that those started disappearing weeks ago, way before Canary came to town, but knew better than to backtalk right now while she was like this. “So Aggie, you got that?” She looked up at her mom, still chewing. “Don’t go talking to that girl no more. She’s bad business.” Without thinking too much, Agnes nodded in agreement, her appetite suddenly kicked down a notch.

Later that day, as if the conversation had manifested it, Agnes nearly had a heart attack as she spotted a girl with messy blonde bangs and a kick in her step skipping right through her backyard. Anxious to get to her before either of her parents discovered her, she sprinted out of her room, through the living room, and straight out the back door. Canary did not seem displeased in the slightest to see a girl giving her the biggest death glare imaginable and sprinting right towards her at full speed. In fact, she smiled wide! And even waved.

“Oh Nes! You live here? That’s so neat! Now I know-”

“Scram!” Agnes waved her hands violently. “You can’t just be walkin’ through folks’ yards! Get outta here!” Canary simply blinked.

“You don’t like me no more?” Agnes threw her hands down and squinted.

“Did I ever like you? I just met you.”

“I thought so! Fellow nature lovers all do!” Canary ignored her pleas and stepped even closer to the house, eyeing the flowers growing from the mulch. “Wow! Look at these here!” Agnes groaned as Canary knelt down and gave the roses a sniff. “Bew-tee-full!” She did the same with the remaining pansies. “Very nice, very nice…aw. Coyotes been eating on these ones, huh?” Agnes’ annoyance quickly dissipated.

“How do you know?” Canary held a few of the stems gently in her fingers, running her hands along their length slowly and taking note of the clipped ends.

“These ain’t been ripped out from the roots. See?” She pointed out a few as Agnes knelt beside her. “Something’s just been chewing on the tops. Probably coyotes. I seen it before. Papa and I had the same problem back in Tennessee. You got any hedgehog urine?” Agnes slowly turned to Canary, her expression dead serious.

“I…we…no. We don’t have any hedgehog urine.” Canary shook her head.

“Shame. It’ll keep ‘em away good. You should get some.” Unprompted, Canary then knelt down even more and planted her lips to one of the remaining pansies’ petals. Agnes raised her eyebrow in confusion as she did it again with the roses.

“What are you doing?” Canary did not stop with the sunflowers.

“Giving ‘em a little kiss. Shows appreciation! Go on, you do it too. She won’t mind.”

“The flower’s a girl?” Canary giggled again and rubbed her nose, now bleached with pollen. This girl was lucky to be devoid of any allergies.

“Maybe. But no. Mother nature! She loves to get kisses now and then. People don’t appreciate her as much as they used to, so it makes her happy.” As Canary finished politely kissing the last tulip, Agnes sighed and relented, slowly kneeling down to give a rose a little peck. “See? There ya go.” Canary patted her back a little rough and Agnes smiled. “Momma loves you now…hey, Nes? Can I tell you a secret?” Agnes sat with her legs folded beneath her and nodded. Canary looked both ways before leaning in close. Her breath was warm against Agnes’ ear, and for the first time, she realized that Canary didn’t smell bad at all, actually. Despite the dirt, the grime, and the unkempt nature of her everything, Canary smelled simply of…daisies, and sap straight from the tree. “Mother nature, she ain’t just the grass and trees’ momma. She’s mine too.” Canary backed away and smirked at Agnes like she had just divulged the government’s top secrets. Agnes tilted her head.

“What do you mean?” Canary rocked back and forth on top of her own bent legs as she gently cradled another flower.

“You have a mom, right? A normal one?” Agnes nodded her head. “Yeah, every kid does. Not me though–at least, not like everyone else’s. I got my papa and mother nature. I came right from her. My dad told me when I was really little, like this small,” her hand was a mere three inches from the ground, “and he said, Canary, don’t go telling anyone that now, or they’re gonna put you in a big empty room with pillows for walls! Hehe! I love when papa talks all crazy. But!” Canary stuck her finger in the air suddenly, calling Agnes to attention. “I went and told you, ‘cuz I’m keeping your secret, so I thought it only fair to share one of my own. Can I trust you, missus Agnes?” Agnes took a few deep breaths and tilted her head even more. This Canary, she had been a mystery ever since she walked through that door in the classroom straight from the dirt baths. She was like no girl Agnes had ever met, and she just didn’t know how that made her feel quite yet. There was only one way to know for sure, so Agnes stood up straight and mimed zipping her mouth shut, before tossing the key right on into her already locked mouth, breaking the laws of physics themselves. Canary shot up and mimicked her gesture eagerly despite having no new secrets to keep.

“Safe with me, missus Canary.”

“I knew I was right to sit next to ya, Nes! Fellow nature lover, always a friend!” She hopped up and down excitedly, reaching out for Agnes to join her. Agnes had never smiled wider and promptly clasped her hands with Canary’s, the two jumping up and down like two kangaroos who had just won the lottery. In that moment, the confusion surrounding Agnes’ feelings for this new girl disappeared entirely. All she saw was someone who loved climbing trees and kissing flowers, and that was all that mattered.

***

Where had she been? Agnes had been leaning against the bark for so long now that her back was marked with impressions from the dry wood. She glanced in every direction one last time and was only greeted by the solitary branches waving at her, their moaning creeks being her only sense of company. She took a deep breath, tied her bandana a little tighter to make sure not a single follicle of hair shook loose, and promptly strutted out of the park. While she headed down main street she tried to recall exactly where Canary and her dad lived. What had she said again? At the end of the curb, opposite the big ol’ corner store, the smallest little shack there is, that’s ours! That wouldn’t be a problem. Agnes turned her stride into a jog as the houses on either side of her became progressively smaller and more downtrodden. There, at the farthest reaches of her vision, she spotted what looked like a miniature brown house, its roof rusted copper tiles held together by hope and prayer. What held her attention even more than the glorified shed-turned living quarters, however, was the smattering of kids that stood out in the street just before the dirt path up to Canary’s house. Agnes heard a few faint shouts and ran as fast as she could. As she got closer she realized it was a bunch of her classmates gathered out in front: quiet Sammy, Mary Anne, Jordan, and Tucker leading the brigade while waving some sort of bat or loose lead pipe around, one twice his size and weight as it quickly sunk to the ground and made a nasty scrapping sound on the concrete. Agnes’ heart rate increased tenfold when she finally reached the crowd. She tapped on Mary Anne’s shoulder anxiously.

“What’s going on here?” Her classmate turned to her with an almost exhilarated fire in her eyes, like she had just witnessed something truly awesome or truly horrible. Agnes glanced past her, and her own eyes mirrored them to a tee. There, in her own front yard, Canary sat on the ground clutching her bleeding head while Tucker gallivanted around with his piece of pipe like he was just itching to strike again. Without thinking, Agnes burst forth to the front and got in between the two. “TUCKER!” She yelped, turning back to Canary again. The blood was running straight over her fingers and down the back of her hand. When Canary realized who it was, she shakily smiled before wincing, and her whole body shivered with coldness. Not a single tear fell from either eye. “What did you do?!”

“Agnes! There you are! You can help me out!” Agnes’ eye twitched as sweat pooled under her armpits and dripped down the sides of her body.

“H-help you?! Did you hit her?” She already knew the answer, of course, but she still couldn’t believe it.

“’Course I did! She’s got a demon in her head! That’s what my pa said, and I’m getting it out!” Tucker stepped forward and Agnes instinctively flinched backwards, nearly tripping over Canary who gently held her steady. She felt the shaky breaths of her injured friend against the back of her calf and Agnes’ blood truly boiled. “Why won’t you get out the way?”

“You ain’t gonna lay a finger on her!” Agnes tried to scream it out, but her voice broke with fear. She swallowed and tried to hold her ground the best she could, her fingers balling in and out of fists. Tucker side-eyed her and gasped as he took the pipe off his shoulders to drag it again. “Demon in her head? You’re talking crazy!”

“Am not! You telling me you ain’t seen her slinking around, licking flowers, drinking from the pond, all that? She came right into our yard trying to steal some of mama’s tulips. I was just defending my property.” Tucker narrowed his eyes as Agnes’ fear slowly melted away and the anger froze in place. “Why are you protecting her?”

“There’s nothing wrong with her!” She looked down to see Canary breathing more heavily by the minute. “She loves nature, Tucker, you big idiot!”

“It’s all crazy talk! She ain’t right!” Agnes had had enough. She lurched forward and shoved Tucker as hard as she could straight to the ground. He fell with a whoop and the pipe clattered on the pavement. Not wasting a moment while he was dazed, Agnes found some mysterious inner strength that allowed her to heft the pipe straight up over her head where she towered over Tucker.

“You ain’t right, Tucker! Maybe I heard there was a demon in your balls! Want me to knock it out for ya?!” Tucker cried in horror and shuffled back into the crowd. As Agnes breathed heavily, every kid eyed her with abject horror. Jordan gripped Tucker’s shoulders and hoisted him up while Mary Anne cried behind Sammy.

“You’re crazy! Crazy!” Tucker repeated it over and over. “You care about that devil more than us! She is a devil, right? I’m not crazy!” He glanced at his friends, each and every one. Uneasy silence followed, and for a moment Agnes held her breath, hoping they would look at him with the same disgust she had. Jordan was the first to open his mouth and something very faint came out before he suddenly closed it. Tucker stared harder, right into his eyes. Jordan shot a glance at Agnes, Canary on the ground behind her, then back at Tucker. “Am I?” Tucker asked, low. Finally, Jordan gave him his answer.

“…no. She…” he gulped and pointed at Canary with the shakiest finger possible “…she ain’t right!”

“Y-yeah.” Mary Anne squeaked out, her voice suddenly finding its volume. “She should go back to the s-swamp she crawled outta!” Agnes could feel the tears welling in her eyes. Her eyes locked onto little Sammy. Poor, quiet Sammy who was too afraid to even read half the time, who still had his mom walk him to school herself, hand in hand. She shook her head slowly, but it was too late.

“Tuck is right.” The words strained his throat. “Devil’s got her.” Tucker folded his arms triumphantly and smirked. A tear trailed down Agnes’ face and dipped into her mouth, the salty taste the only sensation keeping her grounded to reality.

“I told ya! It’s just you, Agnes! Now let me at h-” Agnes bellowed louder than she had in her whole life. She lifted the pipe as high as she could and jumped at Tucker. Every kid screamed in horror and fled down the street. Agnes watched them all the way until they were out of sight for good. As the adrenaline finally passed through her system, Agnes sobbed and dropped the pipe. She held the collar of her shirt and pulled it up above her nose as she rocked back and forth. She was horrified of what had just occurred, of herself. She breathed in through her mouth and out through her nose rapidly as she tried and failed to keep the tears at bay. Agnes wiped so hard she scratched her face red before finally getting up and running back over to Canary. She had been sitting there the whole time nearly motionless, aside from her shaky breaths.

“Wow,” was all she had to say as Agnes dropped to her knees and leaned in close. “You’re like…a superhero, Nes.”

“Shh. Don’t you talk.” Agnes tried to steady her own voice for Canary, to be brave, like the hero she had just been likened to, tut it was impossible. Once she saw the gash in the side of Canary’s head from the pipe she started sobbing all over again. “I-I-I’m sorry. I couldn’t-I didn’t know where you…”

“It’s fiiinnee. It’s fine, Nes. I’ve had worse.” With her free, non-bloodied hand, she pointed at the bridge of her crooked nose and tried her best at a smile. “It’s not fast either, like a river. It’s slow, like…syrup. So it’s okay. And besides,” she removed her hand from her forehead and stuck a finger in her mouth, “my blood tastes like butterscotch.” Agnes blinked away the tears and stared at Canary. There she was; the only girl who also liked tree climbing, who liked kissing flowers and loving her dear mother. There she sat, smiling with an open head while the entirely uninjured girl was a wet mess. It was embarrassing. It wasn’t right. Agnes quietly choked back another sob before a gentle grip propped up her chin. “Here. Try some. I promise. Make you feel better.” Through the strands coming undone beneath her bandana, and through Canary’s bloodied bangs, the two girls locked soul to soul. For some reason, Agnes believed Canary with her whole heart and lungs that her blood tasted like butterscotch, even after giving her finger the ever-so slightest of licks and determining that it did not. Agnes made a sour face while Canary just chuckled. Agnes listened to it, the beautiful song of a canary truly freed from the shackles of everything not having to do with this beautiful earth. The hateful humans did not matter to her, just the ones who hugged trees and drank from rivers. Agnes smiled at the sweet sound of Canary’s laughter before untying her bandana and gently bringing it to her friend’s face, doing her best to wipe the blood away.

“Thank you, missus.” Canary whispered like they were the only two people in the entire world. “Can you…stay with me until my papa comes home? He’s out in town looking for work. He can fix me up good.”

“’Course I will, Canary.” You couldn’t even tell the bandana was soaked through with blood due to its natural color. “’Course I will.”

***

Even the tallest buildings in town were invisible this far out in the wilderness. The only trace of civilization left among these grassy wastes was the line of steel train tracks that streaked through the forest and off into the unknown. This patch of forest, so far removed from the park in which it began, usually saw no human life, but this day was an exception.

“You…you sure you have to go?” Agnes sat with her head almost between her knees against a tree, not even caring how much it hurt her back. Canary stood right in front of her with her foot planted behind her on the bark.

“Once it starts, it don’t stop. Sorry Nes.” The two couldn’t even lock eyes. They sat in utter silence, only broken when a much bigger pair of boots stepped into Agnes’ view. She had only seen Canary’s dad a few times after she had moved in, and what a striking man he was. He shared his daughter’s love of dirt, clumps of it on his skin that shielding the sheen of his bald head. Yet his big strawberry-blond beard was entirely spotless as it swayed gently in the breeze. He straightened his overalls, tied the one loosened shoelace on his boot, and took a deep breath.

“Train’ll be here in a couple minutes.” His voice was low and slightly creaky, like the old branches above their very heads. “Miss Agnes?” She finally lifted her head only to be met with the softest of gazes and the gentlest of touches on her shoulder. “Thank you. From the bottom of this old man’s heart, thank you, for being a dear to my little sunflower.” Agnes couldn’t help but smile, even now. The hand left her shoulder, and he went back to observing the train tracks, listening for any signifying rumblings. That left just the girls back in their silence. Agnes could not bear it anymore and clenched her hands.

“We only got up eight trees.” Canary raised her head. “We were supposed to do all of ‘em.”

“You’re right.” Canary kicked a rock off to the side. “So you keep going without me, yeah?”

“What’s the point?” Footsteps trudged through the tall grass before a mass slumped down just beside her on the tree. Their shoulders touched and Agnes memorized the sensation on contact, knowing it would be the last time she’d ever feel it.

“Oh shush. Not like I got you into it. You were doing it long ‘fore I ever showed up, and you will long after. And so’ll I. That’s what nature lovers do, right?” She turned to Agnes and bumped her arm. Even with the bandages smothering her face and the broken overalls clinging to her body, she still only exuded that earth she loved so much. Right here, amongst the trees, she fit right in, like she would melt into it all at any moment in a big green soup. Agnes’ lips twinged and she buried her head in Canary’s shoulder. She still smelled just like fresh maple. With a hand on her back, Canary leaned in close. “Thanks, Nes. For being my good friend.” And that was all it took for the tears to come back. Canary felt the shaking and held her good friend tighter. “Oh no-no. We said no crying, remember?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Agnes finally leaned up. Canary gently wiped a tear away from her face. “Those don’t taste like butterscotch.”

“I know. You ever seen the ocean, though?” Agnes shook her head and Canary smirked. She took the tear into her mouth and closed her eyes. “It tastes just like that.”

Nearby rumblings shook the girls from their long goodbye. It’s here! Canary’s dad shouted and Agnes tried as hard as she could to cry no more. She refused to create a new ocean right where they stood. Canary reluctantly let the girl go and stood on her two feet.

“Wait, wait.” Agnes sniffled. “Your boot’s untied.” Quickly Agnes fastened it for her and stood up herself. Examining her newly tightened footwear, Canary smiled wide with her teeth and Agnes blushed. Just behind her a freight train came into view, slowing almost to a crawl as it twisted and turned through the dense forest.

“I’ll see you around, missus Agnes.” Canary pulled up the strap of her overalls, hefted her tiny bag of goods behind her, and turned to face the train. As she began to step away, Agnes started panicking. This couldn’t be it. Her friend, gone, just like that? She scratched her skin before springing forward and calling out to her.

“WAIT!” Canary halted immediately and turned just in time to see a girl running full-sprint at her with a loose cloth of red in her hand. She pressed it tightly to Canary’s chest. “Here. Something to remember me by.” Canary gladly took the bandana and promptly tied it around her neck, eliciting a little chuckle from Agnes. Even now she refused to change, to bend to what was supposedly right, to what you were supposed to do.

“In case my head gets banged open again. Smart, Nes!” Agnes squinted at her as Canary began walking backwards. “I-I wish I had something to give you too.”

“You already have!” Agnes waved as Canary’s papa took his daughter’s hand. Carefully, he gripped a bar attached to one of the cars and hopped on. He swept Canary up with him and the two took flight. As fast as she could Agnes bounded after the train, waving with both hands as father and daughter reciprocated. The two girls shouted goodbyes the whole time, all the way until Agnes ran out of both forest and train.

There, she sat, the grass biting at her knees, the breeze blowing the sweat clean off her, and the sun scorching her neck. She breathed in deep and took it all in.

And she never, ever let it go.