At my urging, it continued to spread out, the diameter growing and pulsing in lunges. When the energy reached the core of the tree, I could feel it shoot up the trunk of the willow, then back down through the curtains of branches, only to begin to circulate within the tree over and over. I felt it continue behind me, traveling several yards into the forest. In front of me, the energy cascaded down the inner wall of the cliff, and when it reached the base, it ebbed out into the sea.
I pushed it out from me with as much force as I could find inside, continued to push until I had sunk up to my elbows in the earth and I was flat against the ground, legs extended behind me, toes and the lower portion of my feet inundated by the dirt.
Lying prostrate, I pictured the energy beginning to swirl, a soft, slow weaving that linked each individual thing it touched to the other. The energy flowed from me to the willow, then left to come back to me again, then coursed through the earth to reach within the forest and return to me once more. It tumbled down the cliff and into the sea, then surged back up the rocks and flowed back into me before passing once again into the willow.
I lay there, letting the waves of energy all around pass over me and through me. Letting all that I was be shared with the life around me. I lay there until there was nothing left for me to give and no possible way for me to receive more. I was at once emptied and filled. At once used up and restored.
The tears never ceased, but they changed from desperation and agony to acknowledgment and acceptance.
Without awareness, I extricated my arms and feet from the earth. I lay nestled in the mossy grass, simply breathing.
Whenat last I rose to my hands and knees once more, I saw that my arms and hands were clean of dirt, as if they’d only just exited the shower. Even my sweater and shirt were clean. I didn’t need to look down to know that the same would be true for my feet and pants.
I pushed myself up to a standing position, walked the last few feet to the base of the willow, and knelt once more. Enough time had passed that the birthing colors of the sun had given way to daylight. Protected within the boughs of the willow, the sun only trickled through the branches and illuminated the leaves like miniature windows of stained glass.
I chose a patch of dirt beneath one of the more gnarled and twisted segments of root. It looked like it was turning in upon itself, in a constant state of tension and fluidity. It seemed appropriate.
Realizing I’d forgotten to bring a shovel, I momentarily was unsure what to do next, then shook myself. I didn’t need tools. I could move the dirt with my power. Probably easier than if I’d had a spade. I touched the moss-covered ground with my fingertips, ready to begin making space. Then I stopped, all my attention focused on the feel of the earth beneath my fingertips. I needed to do this myself. Physically. I shouldn’t use my powers right now. This time, as I attempted to push my fingers into the ground, they didn’t sink in as if they were going through clay. I had to curve my fingers and dig. Particles of rock and stones got stuck under my fingernails and made tiny cuts in my skin.
I dug until I had a narrow hole nearly ten inches deep. The excess dirt was in tiny piles around the hole. With a sigh, I brushed my hands off on my thighs, then reached into my back pocket and withdrew the velvet pouch. I let it fall into the hole and then stopped.
Just one more time. I needed it once more. I reached into the hole, withdrew the pouch again, and laid it on the ground so I could pull apart its opening. The tears had stopped while I was digging the hole, too focused on making it the right size and on the small cuts on my hands. As I reached into the bag, the tears began once more. This time, though, they were gentle and silent—more resigned but just as broken.
I laid the three objects out on the root above the hole. The five-dollar bill, the keys, and the license.
Again, the money and keys returned into the pouch first. Then all that was left was Brett’s face, staring at me from the small square in the license. I could almost hear his voice emanating from the photo.
Are you really going to do this?
You’re honestly just going to give up on me?
Don’t you love me anymore?
You promised you’d love me forever, and now you’re going to give up?
You’re going to stick me in the ground? Bury me like I’m dead?
“You are dead.” My whisper was barely audible, but it echoed in the shelter of the willow. “You shut yourself off from my heart. It’s time for me to follow your lead. It’s time to lay you to rest and focus on the rest of my life.”
I lifted the license off the root. Brett’s voice no longer accused. I traced his face with my fingertip and looked into his flat eyes, searching for something, some awareness, as I had a thousand times waking up in the middle of the night and pulling him from under my pillow. As always, there was nothing behind the eyes, the same as when they had looked at me in the driveway that night before he walked away.
It was time.
I lifted the photo to my lips and kissed his likeness. My lips lingered there long enough that the salt of the tears made their way to my tongue. “I love you. I miss you.” My voice caught as my throat constricted painfully. I waited for it to pass. It didn’t. I gave him one last kiss, slipped the license into the pouch, and pulled the drawstrings shut. “I have to let you go. I love you.” I gently placed the pouch at the bottom of the hole. “Good-bye, Brett.”
Scoop after scoop, I shifted the dirt back into the small hole, first covering the pouch, then burying it.
When all the dirt had been replaced, I reached out and placed both my hands over the mound. I felt the ground flatten out and then called upon the grass and moss clinging to the outside edge to cover the space. My palms pricked as the flora grew under my hands. When I lifted them, it was as if there had been no disturbance. Only I would be able to tell that anything was buried under the twisting root. My own private memorial.
“My heart aches at your pain, my dear child.”
Her tone didn’t startle me, even though she took me by surprise. I turned to face the voice and took in the willowy woman, her dark skin reflecting the pinkish hues of the remaining sunrise. Tiny blossoms infested her tangled mass of mosslike hair. Her sheer green gown fluttered in the soft breeze. I lowered my head in reverence. “My lady Jordskote.”
“We hoped for a different path for you as you journey towards your destination.” I saw her small ebony toes slip from beneath the material of her gown. She stepped closer, and for a moment I thought she was going to reach out to me. She didn’t.
“Thank you for your care.” I kept my head bowed. “I didn’t expect for any of you to attend to me. I’m sorry that I disturbed you. It was not my intention.”
“What was your intention?”
