Alice made a quiet, gasping sound and took a step on her own, then another, until they were on the porch. The old cedar floorboards creaked in welcome. Mom’s rocker was touched by the breeze and rocked to and fro.
Alice was easily led now, down the steps and around the corner and into the grassy yard. The sound of the river was loud; leaves whispered among themselves and floated downward. Thousands of them, all at once, though the breeze was as soft as a baby’s breath.
Alice let go of Julia’s hand and grabbed onto her pant leg instead; then she dropped to her knees. She sat utterly still, her head bowed.
The sound was so quiet at first, so thready, that Julia mistook it for a growing wind.
Alice lifted her face to the night sky and let out a howl that undulated on the air. It was a noise so sad and lonely that you wanted to cry, or howl along with her. It made you think of all that you’d ever loved, all that you’d lost, and all the love you’d never known.
“Go ahead, Alice,” Julia said, hearing the throatiness of her voice. It was unprofessional to be so moved, but there was no way to help it. “Let it all out. This is crying for you, isn’t it?”
When the howling faded, Alice was quiet again. She sat there, kneeling in the grass; she was so motionless it was as if she’d melted onto the landscape. Then, all at once, she moved. She bent forward and picked up a tiny yellow dandelion from the darkness in front of her. Julia hadn’t even been able to see the flower. In a single motion she separated the root from the stem and ate the root.
“This is the world you know, isn’t it?” Julia tried to get Alice to let go of her pants so the child could wander freely, but Alice wouldn’t let go.
“I won’t leave you, but you don’t know that, do you? Someone has already left you out in these woods, haven’t they?”
In the silence that followed the question, a crow cawed, then an owl hooted. Within seconds the forest at the edge of their property was alive with birdsong. The unseen branches creaked and sighed; the pine needles rustled.
Alice imitated each of the calls; each of her versions flawless. The birds answered her.
In the darkness, it took Julia’s eyes a moment to notice what was happening.
The yard was full of birds; they formed a wide circle around them.
“My God …” It was Ellie’s voice, from somewhere in the shadows.
At the sound, the birds flew away, their wings sounding breathy and fast.
Somewhere, far away, a wolf howled.
Alice answered the call.
A shiver crept down Julia’s spine; suddenly she was icy cold. “Don’t move,” she said to Ellie when she heard a rustling in the leaves.
“But—”
“And don’t talk.”
Alice tugged on Julia’s hand. It was the first time the girl had ever tried to lead. Julia couldn’t help smiling. “That’s good, little one. I’ll follow.”
A cloud moved away from the moon, floated across the sky. In its wake, moonlight painted the grass, lit the river. Everything looked silvery and magical.
Alice pointed at the rosebushes. They were leggy and winter bare, sorely in need of cutting back. She pulled free and approached the roses with a confidence Julia had never seen before. She straightened, lifted her chin. For once she didn’t hunch over and hold an arm across her stomach. Moonlight glanced off her hair; it looked black as a crow’s wing, tinged with blue.
The night felt steeped in magic, shimmering with it. Stars sparkled in the sky. Julia would have sworn she could hear the ocean. She backed away slowly, letting Alice explore this perimeter of her own world. She felt her sister’s approach.
Ellie stopped beside her. “How do you know she won’t run away?”
“I don’t. I’m betting on her attachment to me, though. There are bad memories out there for her.”
“A mammoth understatement.”
Julia watched Alice draw nearer to the rosebush, wondering what the girl would do if a thorn bit her flesh. Would she turn to her for help or comfort? Had she learned at all that she wasn’t alone any longer, or would she feel betrayed by this strange place and run back to the world she knew?
“Be careful, Alice,” Julia said. “There are thorns.”
The girl reached for a single, pink bud, plucked it from the bush.
Alice petted the rose with a gentleness that surprised Julia, then she turned away. Moving slowly, she walked toward the river. When she reached a little lip of land, she paused.
Julia and Ellie followed her, both ready to save her if she jumped.
But Alice kept moving down the bank, to the place where the grass was tamped down and dead. There, she dropped to her knees and bowed her head, howling softly.
“She’s calling her wolf,” Julia said quietly. “Telling him her story and that she misses him.”
They waited for an answer, breath held, but all they heard were the trees whispering overhead and the river’s throaty laughter.
“He’s at the game farm with other wolves,” Ellie finally said. “Too far away to hear her.”