LOL.
RE: CLEAN UP DAY AT THE THOMAS MANSION
Posted by Shawn Jawn
SEPTEMBER 1st, 2017 | 6:02PM
I am so in. I got my father to donate some materials too. I’ll be there with the rest of B.E.A.C.! Or, you know, who we’ve got left and all.
RE: CLEAN UP DAY AT THE THOMAS MANSION
Posted by A Dash of Paprika
SEPTEMBER 1st, 2017 | 7:15PM
Well, well. Look who it is. Just kidding, glad to have you, Captain Planet.
RE: CLEAN UP DAY AT THE THOMAS MANSION
Posted by WithouttheY
SEPTEMBER 1st, 2017 | 7:18PM
Come on, Paprika.
XXVIII
“I need some cleaner over here!”
“Someone toss me a sponge?”
“Hey! I need a bathing basin, I found a sick rabbit.”
“What do we do with empty bottles?”
The voices around the grove were loud and frantic as people walked through the area excitedly, passing materials back and forth to one another, bags wrapped around their shoes as they made their way over the poison-sprayed earth. Leila knew most of the poison was gone, but she couldn’t tell the others how she knew. Walking on the ground didn’t leave her with the massive pains it had earlier, just a dull ache. And her hair was starting to grow back, in a way that felt strange and unnatural, oddly fast. She could almost feel it happening. Leila smiled and nodded at people as they walked by, each with that familiar look in their eyes, the sort you gave to someone who you kind of know because of the Internet, but not really. She’d never posted photos on the board, and neither did many of the people on the site, but somehow, she could just tell.
“How’s it going over here?” Leila asked.
Sarika, who was busy scrubbing out some of the blue poison from the rocks surrounding the dryads’ trees, wiped her forehead with the back of her arm and wrung out a rag into a bucket next to her.
“Slow, but I’m making some dents. Look.” She pointed at some of the nearby stones, which all shone with the clean, slick reflection of water, as if it had just rained an hour ago. “But of course, there’s still all that. Stay away from there.” In the opposite direction the stones still glimmered with the blue color, like a filmy slime. “But hey, we’ve got time, right? We do have time?”
“We do. I feel better,” Leila said, nodding with a smile. “Have you seen Landon?”
“He was over doing some repairs at the Trust earlier, but I think he’s helping your, um,” Sarika stopped, looking over at the dryads’ trees in the circle. Landon, Jon, and Mr. De La Costa were standing there talking to one another, hands on their hips, heads nodding in excitement.
“I think you can say it,” Leila said, warmth coursing through her chest.
Sarika smiled.
“He’s over there with your dad.”
Leila stepped over the ring of stones and walked into the circle just as Landon dipped a rag into a bucket of cleanser. He looked up at her and smiled.
“I just don’t understand how a tree can wither up and die that fast from that cocktail of, what was it? Weed killer and—” Jon had started.
“We don’t have to dig into it, Jon, really.” Mr. De La Costa said. “I feel bad enough as it is, you know.”
“I know, I know,” Jon said, nodding. “Sorry. It’s just, you know, interesting.”
“Right.” Mr. De La Costa said, and grabbed a sponge. Lisabeth walked up behind Jon and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Hey darling,” Jon said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and turning back to the trees. “These two look fine, but damn. That’s such a tragedy. I can’t even imagine how old this girl was.” Jon ran his fingers over the bark of one of the dryads’ trees.
“It really is sad,” Lisabeth said, her head tucked over Jon’s shoulder. “I’ll get started cleaning around the roots here. Leila, you need anything?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks, Mom,” Leila said. Liz smiled and hurried off as Leila stared at the tree.
It was Tifola.
Leila smiled sadly. Jon had wondered how old the tree might have been.
He really had no idea.
And really, Leila had no idea either. The dryads had left so many questions unanswered, and she wondered if they’d ever awaken and talk to her again. While life seemed to be returning slowly to Philadelphia, flowers re-blooming, trees sprouting buds, scientists scrambling madly around town, there was no sign of the two remaining dryads in the grove.
“Leila, you have any more of that paint remover?” Jon asked. He picked up a small bucket with a rag in it near the stones, a spray bottle dangling off the edge.
“Sure, Dad,” Leila said, a blast of warmth coursing through her chest. Jon smiled and then spritzed the large oak, scrubbing at the large red X on the bark. Bits of bark flaked off as he scrubbed. Leila winced.
“Careful there,” Leila said, as pieces of the bark fall off the tree.
“Don’t worry, it’s made of an orange and citrus solvent. It won’t hurt these any further. You were right about this place, Leila,” Jon said, taking a step away from the dryads’ trees and setting his hands on his hips. “It does have this magical feel to it.”
“I agree,” Mr. De La Costa chimed in, stepping towards them and nodding. “I’ve apologized for my daughter already, yes?”
“Hah!” Jon smiled and patted Mr. De La Costa on the back. “Seriously, Patrick, relax. As far as anyone is concerned, we found the mice. I mean, technically we did. Your secret is safe with us. Isn’t it?”
He looked at Leila expectantly, and she nodded, offering a soft smile.
“As long as this place stays safe,” Leila said, shrugging.
“Good, good.” Mr. De La Costa said, wringing his hands. “It will. You can rest assured of that. I’ve already put in some proposals for a restoration project for the mansion. And some of the Academy staff will be around to work on the mice habitats.” His eyes looked beyond Leila, towards the entrance to the grove, where Jessica was angrily spraying water over the dried-up shrubs and bushes. Leila scowled.
“Gentle, Jessica!” shouted Mr. De La Costa, shaking his head. Jessica glared at him and sprayed the water about wildly.
“God damn it,” Mr. De La Costa muttered. “Excuse me. Jessica!” He stormed off towards her.
Leila looked over at Landon, who grinned at her. Shawn, Britt, and Mikey were closer to the mansion, working on the stones around the grounds there, but she could hear Britt’s distinctive loud laugh echoing through the bare trees. She grabbed a rag out of the bucket, and approached the center tree.
Karayea.
She removed the bottle of cleanser from her belt, and sprayed the red X at the front of the tree. She scrubbed gently.
“Leila, come on, you really need to push into it,” Jon said.
“It’s okay,” Leila said. She gently brushed the red paint away, watching the X fade into a pinkish color as it came off the tree, even if the bark around it lost a bit of its color with it. “I’ve got time.”
Leila closed her eyes, and pressed her bare hand against the tree, listening.
She sighed.
And the wind rustled.
WithouttheY 32m
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Acknowledgments
The Girl and the Grove was a novel I’d been wanting to write for a few years. My darling wife, Nena, had been pushing me to write a novel about adoption and identity, to write about something so deeply personal to me.
“Write the tree book!” she would say. I thank her endlessly for giving me the courage to try. This book is here first and foremost because of her, and due to the following amazing people.
My rockstar agent Dawn Frederick and my amazing editor Mari Kesselring, for pushing me and this novel and for never giving up. And to the whole team at Flux, for believing in this book.
To Adi Alsaid and Zoraida Cordova for that retreat in Mexico. You are keepers of magic.