Especially when you’re in the mountains. Near the woodpile by the side of the cabin I find a long thick stick. I shake off a few leaves and bugs and plant it firmly against the moist ground and then lean on it. This is my day. My walking stick. I set out down the dirt road and then veer off to the right into a thicket of spruce and aspen trees. I walk until I can only see the very top of the cabin through it all. Until I am surrounded by new noises and smells. Then I stop.
“THIS IS MY MOUNTAIN.” I scream into the air around me.
I fall to the ground and body-kiss the damp perfumed earth. A girlhood is a terrible-wonderful time. It makes me squirm with impatience. It makes me smash strange berries between my fingers till they are sticky with dirt and juice. It makes me turn over rocks. Pull wriggling earthworms from underneath. Watch them try and burrow back into dark. I think about Lena. Doing back handspring after back handspring at camp. Trying to be the best. How much I miss her. And her letters. I think about Huck. How far away I am from him. I feel a hot glow in my chest. An ache. I think about Mama holding the phone away from her like something venomous. About Papa. Trying trying. But never making her happy these days. I think about my birth mother. What makes her happy? Who loves her? A girlhood is a terrible-wonderful time. I look up. A branch of a nearby tree sits low and inviting. Where can it take me?
I leave my stick and stand up. I scrape every angle of my knees trying to climb the tree as high as I can. I am so tall. I open my mouth but before I can test my voice against the clear air the Georgia Belles appear on the branch below me. They look like two blackbirds but they sing with familiar and clear tones.
Fly fly fly
Climb on climb on
Into a song
Baby girl baby bird
Something’s not right
Fly fly fly
Till you’re back in sight
On the ground or in the sky
You need to stay close
Stay close
Stay
Close to us
I have not seen them since the slap. Since I told them I didn’t need their help. But they only stay now for a few seconds. They sing the thoughts right out of my head and then dive and swoop away into the path below. I don’t have to tell them to wait. When I climb back down they are there. Their voices darting in and out of brush ahead. So I follow the song. The one that’s aching. Until I am back at the cabin. Where Eve sits outside while inside Mama grabs all the pots and pans from the sink and throws them out the window. One by one.
“NO ONE APPRECIATES ME!” She yells. “I DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE. I AM NOT YOUR MAID. I AM NOT YOUR SERVANT. THIS PLACE IS A MESS. YOU DON’T DESERVE ALL THESE CLOTHES. I NEVER HAD THIS MANY NEW CLOTHES WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE. I WILL RETURN ALL OF IT YOU UNGRATEFUL…”
“What happened?” I pant.
Eve takes the headphones out of her ears. “No idea. She woke up and then just started yelling. I told her I’d do the dishes but it’s like she didn’t hear me. I’d wait out here if I were you. She’s acting like a total maniac.”
I sit next to Eve. She lets me lean my head on her shoulders. We watch the sun set. When the stars come out we hear Mama slam the door to her room. Then it is quiet. We spend the rest of the night in our loft. I can’t get the Georgia Belles’ song out of my head. Stay close. Stay close. I squeeze my eyes shut and wish for a new day.