Light Boxes Part 3

Selah, said Thaddeus, start on the floor. Tear out what you can and burn it in the stove.

Caldor yelled at me as I stood there with my arms frozen to my sides. I thought about the way the horses died. I thought of death and war and the sadness of this once-colorful town.

Selah, please, the floor, said Thaddeus, who kicked his feet, flicked at the moss that grew over the toes of his boots.

I went back to where the horses were.

I knelt down in the cold, snow-freckled green. I peeled the moss away from their bodies. Their eyes had burst and their tongues were hanging out. Their necks were ropes of muscle and wet moss from the snow that now looked like green foam.

I placed my head inside a horse's neck. Deep inside that web of flesh, among the organs and bone, I saw a miniature town that was identical to ours. I saw Thaddeus and Caldor and Bianca and everyone else asleep in hammocks tied to the ribcage. I saw a little balloon carrying horses in a basket. I saw kites pus.h.i.+ng clouds into a burning sun. And where the stomach was, I saw myself standing on a frozen river. Wind tunnels around my legs lifted my dress and pulled my hair toward the clouds. I could feel the cracking of ice against the bottom of my feet. Fish ate water and screamed for me to come down and have some tea, have some mint.

Thaddeus The shopkeepers in town said they saw Selah out on the river. One of them went after her. He reached his hand out, but she shook and stamped her feet. She broke the ice beneath her and fell.

I tried to save her, Thaddeus, said the shopkeeper, who was a little old man with a crooked back. He walked with a cane that had a curved end in the shape of an eagle, which he clutched.

I lay out on the ice as best I could and tried to find her through the hole. I'm sorry, sir, but what I saw, I don't know if it's February getting to me or not. But here, this is what I saw. He quivered, then straightened his back.

He handed me parchment paper. He shouted for the death of February, and a few other shopkeepers rallied around him, and they disappeared inside the inn. Outside the inn were great big heaps of wilting moss, dying ants, a butcher skinning a wolf.

I unfolded the parchment. I thought of Bianca and Selah and this ongoing war. I sat on the ground in the street as the wagons pa.s.sed me by, the wheels slipping in the snow. There was a drawing on the parchment. It was drawn in lead and showed a woman, Selah, underwater. Brown fish with horse heads encircled her. Her hands were angry clouds. Kite strings were wrapped around her body, and she was screaming with a mouth full of snow.

It continued snowing and the

War Effort gathered around Thaddeus, who wouldn't move from the street. The shopkeepers cleared the snow around him with shovels. Thaddeus held a crumpled ball of parchment in his fist and refused to speak. At one point a wagon wheel crushed his hand, but he didn't flinch.

There's still a war to fight, one War Effort member said.

The town needs you, said another.

Caldor Clemens grabbed Thaddeus by the shoulders and shook him.

You can place your frustration on February, he said, looking into the dark eyes of Thaddeus.

Thaddeus mumbled and tightened his fists but didn't move. Three war members-blue bird mask, a carpenter and Caldor Clemens-tried to push him over. Caldor said that it was like trying to move a chimney. They had no choice but to leave him in the street night after night after night.

The left side of my body is Bianca, and my right side is Selah. With no body I have no reason to move from this spot.

I dreamed you a field of running horses, Selah. For you, Bianca, a balloon the size of the sky, my body a kite you can throw into the air.

Pull me by string and horse.

Tell me everything won't end in death. That everything doesn't end with February. Dead wildflowers wrapped around a crying baby's throat.

I've slowed my heartbeat to three beats a minute. I've redrawn the clouds into birds, a fox chasing them into the mountains.

I'm going to move my hand today.

I vomit ice cubes.

There's a ghost next to me.

Get up, Dad.

FEBRUARY WATCHES THE SNOW FALL.

He thinks about the senseless deaths of Selah and Bianca and the ongoing war against him. He creates ten different shades of gray in the sky and then starts over again. The girl who smells of honey and smoke calls for him to come inside. He thinks, She has a light in her throat when she speaks. She has strings of light draped inside her body.

There's a terrible war against me, he says over his shoulder.

I know, she says. You can stop it anytime you want.

The girl who smells of honey and smoke can't hear him cry but can see the curled shoulders. She can see his black shake.

Sculptor Bianca's ghost appears in town. She wears red shorts and a white blouse and has long black hair. I watch her buy mint leaves and talk to shop owners about how soon until we will only experience summer. She walks through the streets pa.s.sing out tulips whose petals have veins that spell out the word July. A bar-keep tells everyone that Bianca's ghost has a War Plan involving the town children who have been kidnapped by February. An apprentice of mine says that when Bianca cupped her hands together it showed an entire sky of kites.

Thaddeus hadn't spoken in a week. But when Bianca's ghost whispered in his ear, he stood up. He pointed at the sky. He went to his home, where Caldor Clemens had taken over the War Effort. Bianca's ghost disappeared into the woods.

Since Thaddeus's solitude it's never been so cold or dark in the town. My owl statues became brittle with frost and cracked and crumbled to dust, and I'm lucky I haven't any children left to feed. That's a horrible thing to say, but it's true.

OWL STATUES-HALF PRICE.

Caldor Clemens gave a s.h.i.+rtless

speech under the two holes in the sky. The War Effort sat in a circle around Clemens, who pumped his fists and spit into s...o...b..nks.

Thaddeus came up the hill carrying a scythe over his shoulder. He swung it across the snow tops, causing the War Effort to cheer and Clemens to tilt his head back and shout insults at the sky.

I'd like to add something, said Thaddeus, who moved into the center of the group and, in a gesture of respect to Clemens, took off his s.h.i.+rt.

As the snow fell on his skin, Thaddeus thought it didn't feel like snow. He prepared his mind to feel snow on skin. But that isn't what he felt, because the snow was torn parchment with letters scribbled in lead. In a fury Thaddeus collected the pieces of parchment from his shoulders and arms and every sc.r.a.p from the hairy back of Clemens. The War Effort helped, too. They crawled on their hands and knees and gathered the parchment into a small pile.

Thaddeus and the Professor spent

the next week deciphering the fallen parchment. They sat at a wooden table in Thaddeus's kitchen where they could move the letters around. They took turns wearing the light box. War members brought them mint tea and tended to the fire.

There were over two hundred pieces of torn parchment. The Professor smacked the side of the light box, and the light flickered inside as they shuffled the letters.

What about this, said Thaddeus, and he moved the letters into a long row that stretched the length of the table.

FIND FEBRUARY AT THE EDGE OF THE TOWN FIND FEBRUARY AT THE EDGE OF THE TOWN.

WEARING DARK CLOTHES FOLLOW ANIMAL.

HUMAN FOOTPRINTS CREATED BY FEBRUARY AT.

THE EDGE OF THE TOWN.

But it could be wrong, said the Professor. Look.

THE TOWN CREATED DARK FOOTPRINTS AT THE TOWN CREATED DARK FOOTPRINTS AT.

THE EDGE OF ANIMAL CLOTHES.

HUMAN FOOTPRINTS WEARING DARK CLOTHES.

AT THE EDGE OF THE TOWN.

See all the fruit, said Thaddeus.

APPLES AND WATERMELONS APPLES AND WATERMELONS.

AT THE EDGE OF THE TOWN.

Fruit, asked the Professor.

Yes, fruit, Thaddeus said, and spelled out more names of fruit grown during warm months.

The Professor continued moving the letters around. AT THE EDGE OF THE TOWN appeared dozens of times.

And then the Professor began moving the pieces again and came up with something entirely different. He handed the light box to Thaddeus. He rubbed his face. Thaddeus said that AT THE EDGE OF THE TOWN was where he should go. He told the Professor about the scroll of parchment left on the tree where three children once sat twisting the heads of owls. He told him about the tracks in the snow leading from the oak tree, the concentric circles, the animal prints, the human prints that might lead to February.

Very well, then, said the Professor. At the edge of the town.

If not, we'll go back to moving the parchment, and we'll find another answer, said Thaddeus.

Very well indeed, said the Professor. He put the light box back on.

List Found in February's Cottage Detailing Possible Cures for February 1. Valerian root and vitamin C tablets taken in the dark. 1. Valerian root and vitamin C tablets taken in the dark. 2. Yoga and meditation. 2. Yoga and meditation. 3. The melting of snow in children's palms. 3. The melting of snow in children's palms. 4. Light boxes? 4. Light boxes? 5. Hot bath taken with mint extract. 5. Hot bath taken with mint extract. 6. Touching the moon in places the moon doesn't know exist. 6. Touching the moon in places the moon doesn't know exist. 7. Consumption of St. John's wort. 7. Consumption of St. John's wort. 8. Feeding the garden inside. 8. Feeding the garden inside. 9. Giving Bianca back. 9. Giving Bianca back. 10. Twisting your fears into desires. 10. Twisting your fears into desires. 11. Mood diary. 11. Mood diary. 12. Hydrating the body. 12. Hydrating the body. 13. Paying attention to the girl who smells of honey and smoke. 13. Paying attention to the girl who smells of honey and smoke.

Thaddeus tied a wool scarf

around his neck, looked at the picture the old man had given him of Selah and left home. Tree branches bowed with snow, their tips tied to the ground by invisible ropes. Thaddeus imagined standing behind February, running his knife in a half moon from ear to ear. He saw the blood wash the ropes away and the snow shake from the tress and the sky click to blue.

As Thaddeus walked through town, a few shopkeepers shook his hand. A butcher gave him a pork loin wrapped in twine. The old man appeared again, hobbled up to Thaddeus and handed him another folded parchment. Thaddeus unfolded it carefully. It showed himself standing behind a bearded man, running his knife around the man's throat.

Why would you draw this, asked Thaddeus.

But the old man was gone. Thaddeus thought through the yellowing candle at the inn window he saw him drinking from a beer stein. He thought the beer stein was decorated with balloons.

FEBRUARY WAS KIDNAPPING THE children and burying them at the edge of town. Anytime he looked into the town and felt sadness he sent a group of priests armed with shovels to dig a new hole. What February didn't know was that not all the children were dead. Some were learning to survive underground, had built an elaborate series of underground tunnels. Someone was helping them. They snuck out at night and gathered firewood and stole lanterns. February couldn't see what the children were planning underground. He couldn't see their cold faces illuminated in the fire and lantern light, and he couldn't hear them discussing the war against him. The children dreamed the same dream the War Effort in town dreamed. Flocks of birds tearing through a new blue sky. They dug tunnels that snaked beneath the town and placed notes inside homes informing the people of their own War Movement. Some children weren't so lucky. February would watch their fingers break a crust of snow, twitch a little, and then seize in the wind as the wolves moved in. It pleased February when that happened. He went HAHAHAHAHA and felt guilty for doing so. On more than one occasion, February looked under a roof for a child to kidnap and would see people wrapped in wool blankets and scarves and sweaters standing in a tight circle. children and burying them at the edge of town. Anytime he looked into the town and felt sadness he sent a group of priests armed with shovels to dig a new hole. What February didn't know was that not all the children were dead. Some were learning to survive underground, had built an elaborate series of underground tunnels. Someone was helping them. They snuck out at night and gathered firewood and stole lanterns. February couldn't see what the children were planning underground. He couldn't see their cold faces illuminated in the fire and lantern light, and he couldn't hear them discussing the war against him. The children dreamed the same dream the War Effort in town dreamed. Flocks of birds tearing through a new blue sky. They dug tunnels that snaked beneath the town and placed notes inside homes informing the people of their own War Movement. Some children weren't so lucky. February would watch their fingers break a crust of snow, twitch a little, and then seize in the wind as the wolves moved in. It pleased February when that happened. He went HAHAHAHAHA and felt guilty for doing so. On more than one occasion, February looked under a roof for a child to kidnap and would see people wrapped in wool blankets and scarves and sweaters standing in a tight circle.

He would watch them undress after they unfolded parchment with words he couldn't make out.

FEBRUARY TRIED TO UNDERSTAND the town. The girl who smelled of honey and smoke told him he should drink more tea with mint leaves. She placed her hand around his bicep. Her thumb and pointer finger touched. February looked back on the town and saw the War Effort resume the water-trough attacks. He saw Thaddeus Lowe, and he saw the butcher's knife hidden inside his coat pocket. the town. The girl who smelled of honey and smoke told him he should drink more tea with mint leaves. She placed her hand around his bicep. Her thumb and pointer finger touched. February looked back on the town and saw the War Effort resume the water-trough attacks. He saw Thaddeus Lowe, and he saw the butcher's knife hidden inside his coat pocket.