The Wishing Trees by John Shors
“Well, neither do mallee bulls. But you wouldn’t want to tangle with one.”
“Only ten more steps.”
“Thank goodness.”
“But you said you were as strong as a mallee bull.”
“That was ten steps ago, Roo. Times change.”
“Daddy!”
Ian finally made it to the top of the stairs. He took a few steps forward and dropped to his knees, lifting the strap from his head. The girls helped pull the bundle of firewood from his back and set it aside. He moved his head around in circles, relieved to have taken such weight off his neck. “How far do you have to carry that?” he asked the girl.
Smiling, she shrugged. “No understand.”
“Are you going to Nagarkot?”
“Nagarkot. Yes. I go Nagarkot.”
He knew from his guidebook that the village of Nagarkot was less than a mile away. “Well, then, we’ll see you in Nagarkot.”
“Wait, Daddy,” Mattie said, moving behind him and unzipping his backpack. She carefully sorted through its contents before removing a blue brush that had a picture of horses on the back. She looked at the brush, remembering buying it with her father before the trip. “Here,” she said, handing the brush to the girl. “I think you need this.”
The girl took the brush in her dirt-stained hands. “Me?” she asked, pointing to her chest.
“Yes. It’s for you. That way, your hair won’t get so tangled up.”
“Me?”
Mattie smiled, closing her hands when the girl tried to return the brush. “Good-bye. See you in Nagarkot.”
“Namaste,” the girl replied, grinning. Bowing low, she stared at the horses on the back of the brush.
Mattie said good-bye again and followed her father up the trail, which went into a ravine in the mountain. They walked in silence, glancing behind on occasion to watch the valley below and to see if the girl had begun moving. After a few minutes she started up after them, proceeding slowly. The valley looked even more fertile from high above than it had from below.
“Why did you give her your brush, Roo?” Ian asked, his pack feeling lighter than ever. “I know you fancied it.”
“Did you see her hair? She needed it.”
“Well, you made her happy. Good onya for that.”
“You think?”
“Aye, First Mate. I do.”
The ravine they were following opened up. The mountain that had obscured their view for so long was now behind them, revealing the distant village of Nagarkot. The village wasn’t much more than a few hundred stone homes surrounded on all sides by terraced farms. Miles behind Nagarkot, a row of snow-covered Himalayas rose into the blue sky. One triangle-shaped mountain stood above the rest.
Ian removed his backpack, set it on the ground, and walked to a nearby boulder, leaning against it. “Do you see that mountain?” he asked, pointing to the tallest peak.
“The big one?”
“It’s Everest.”
“Really?”
“You made it, Roo. You made it to the top of a tall mountain and you’re looking at Everest.”
She smiled, glancing around. “Wow.”
“Care to see my second surprise?”
“What is it?”
He walked back to his pack, unzipped an internal compartment, and removed a roll of red fabric. He unwound the fabric, revealing two wooden poles connected in the middle by fishing line. Ian rotated them until they formed a cross. He then attached the fabric to the ends of each pole.
“A kite?” Mattie asked, smiling. “Where did you get it?”
“Kathmandu, luv. I had a lad find it for me when you were in bed counting sheep. Fancy having a go at it?”
“Maybe we can fly it as high as Everest.”
“Higher than Everest.” He patted her on the head, then tied a ball of string to the kite. The wind was strong, and Ian didn’t think that they’d have any problems getting the kite aloft. “You hold it, Roo. And when I tell you to, push it up into the air.”
“Push it hard?”
“Just let it soar. I reckon you won’t need to do much.”
“Okay.”
Ian unwound the string, moving away from Mattie across the wide, level ground. He walked into the wind, stopping about a hundred feet from her. The wind tugged at the kite in her hands. “Let her loose!” he said, pulling the string taut as she tossed the kite upward. He stepped back, lifting the string above his head. For an instant the kite faltered, and he feared it would crash. But then the wind thrust itself against the red fabric and the kite leapt up. Ian whooped, walking backward, continuing to unwind the string above his head.
Mattie started to run, eager to fly the kite. But suddenly she stopped. She saw her father standing in front of the village, in front of Everest. The blue sky. The red kite. The biggest mountain in the world. And her father. All of these things were bundled together before her and she knew that she had to draw them for her mother. Without a word, she ran back to her backpack and removed her sketch pad. Soon she was drawing, using colored pencils to re-create the scene. Her fingers moved faster than they ever had. She was afraid the wind might stop, that the kite might fall. But neither happened, and soon her hands were stained blue and red and brown. She smiled as she drew, smiled at what she saw on the paper. Because what she saw was beautiful, was what she’d climbed so high to see.
When she finished her drawing, she took out a black-tipped pencil and prepared to write beneath her sketch.
Can you see us, Mommy? We’re climbing. We’ve climbed to see Mount Everest. And it’s beautiful. It looks like an iceberg in the sky. And we helped a girl. We carried her wood and we made her smile. We’re trying, Mommy. We’re doing our best. Can you say hello to us? We love you so much. I was so sad, two days ago in the rain. But I’m happy now, even though I miss you. I’m on top of a mountain, and Daddy is flying a red kite. He’s waving at me now. He wants me to fly the kite too. So, I have to go. Just remember how much I love you. I hope you’re happy in heaven.
Mattie
She turned around, searching for a tall tree that she had seen earlier. Soon she was running toward the tree, even though her knee still hurt. She passed the girl with the wood, calling out hello. The tree was larger than anything else around it. The Nepalese must have considered it sacred, because colorful prayer flags had been tied to it. Mattie didn’t know much about prayer flags other than what her father had told her—that the Nepalese wrote their prayers on little flags and tied them to high places, so that the wind might carry their prayers upward. As soon as Mattie had seen the tree with the prayer flags, she knew it was a wishing tree.
Tucking her rolled-up piece of paper into the front of her pants, she climbed the wishing tree, careful not to disturb any of the prayer flags. She didn’t climb higher than the rippling little flags, for doing so didn’t seem right. Finding a crevice between two branches, she eased her paper against the tree. Only when she was certain that her drawing was held tight did she descend, pleased to have left such an image for her mother.
Mattie ran toward her father, her lungs heaving from the thin air. He laughed as she approached, and she held out her hand, taking the string from him. She was surprised at the strength with which the kite tugged at the string. “It wants to fly higher,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to let the kite do just that.
“Can you blame it, luv?”
“No, I can’t. I want to go higher too.”
He smiled. “What did you leave in the tree?”
“It’s a wishing tree. And I left a sketch for Mommy. A sketch of you flying the kite.”
His fingers stroked the side of her face. “That’s lovely, Roo. You’re lovely.”
She let out a gasp as a gust of wind yanked at the kite. “Help me, Daddy.”
He leaned down, his hand gripping the string above hers. “You make me very proud, Roo—you know that? I reckon you couldn’t make me any prouder. I’m sorry if I didn’t always tell you as much. I
Mattie smiled, moving closer to him. “You did your best, Daddy. And you carried me up the stairs every night. Even when you were tired.”
“Carrying you up the stairs was the top of my day.”
“Mine too.”
Ian kissed her on the cheek, lifting her up so that she and the kite might be even higher. He raised her until his arms straightened, until she was closer to Everest and her mother and so many other wonderful things that he wanted her to feel.
THAILAND
The Land of Smiles
“BORROW FROM GRANDMOTHER TO BUY HER SWEETS.”
—THAI SAYING
Ian,
Remember our time in Thailand, my love? Those three weeks were some of the best days of my life. You put me on the back of that old motorcycle and we drove around the country. We visited ancient temples. We swam with sharks. We made love on that beach with no name. It was just us—always. And that’s when I knew that I really loved you, because I didn’t need to talk with my friends or my family or even myself. All I wanted was you.
Will you show Mattie what you showed me? She loves nature so much, even though we were removed from it in Manhattan. Take her for a swim in the South China Sea. Throw a Frisbee on an empty beach. Laugh over a bowl of spicy soup. You can open up her world there. The Thais are such fun-loving people, even though many of them endure hardships. Let Mattie see their suffering and their joy. She can learn from them. So can you.
It was in Thailand where I started to believe in reincarnation. The Thais were so good at that—they saw their ancestors everywhere. So when you’re there, know that I won’t be far away.
Here’s a poem for you to read in paradise.
Within
How can I be pulled from you
When I am a part of you?
Does the sun ever leave the sky?
Or simply travel to illuminate another piece of it?
Does the wind retreat at the end of the storm?
Or depart to blow somewhere else?
Just because I cannot touch you
Doesn’t mean that I cannot be with you.
Just because you cannot see me laugh
Doesn’t mean that I cannot laugh with you.
I am within you, Ian,
Like the ocean in Mattie’s eyes.
Like the unstained rays of the sun brighten the sky.
My death did not make me surrender.
I did not give up the right
To love you,
To be with you,
To watch you from near and afar.
So when you stand on those beaches,
When you feel that light on your back,
Think of me.
And our thoughts and love will mingle.
Kate
Ian rolled the paper up, and closed his eyes, feeling the light on his face. Beside him, Mattie opened her canister and read her mother’s words.
My Sweet Mattie,
Remember how, before I got sick, I was teaching you how to snorkel? Well, your daddy is taking you to a place where you can snorkel and see so many beautiful things. It’s like swimming in a warm bath, Mattie. And you’ll discover a new world below you, a world that you can draw until you run out of paper. Drop a piece of bread in the sea and watch what happens. Watch it underwater. You’ll be amazed.
Thailand is called the Land of Smiles and there’s a reason for that. I don’t think I’ve met a happier people. The Thais might not have new shoes or fancy homes or straight teeth, but they’re happy, Mattie. Like you were. Like you’ll be again.
You’ll see a lot of statues of Buddha in Thailand. Do you know what Buddha said about happiness? He said, “Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.”
Some of the people in your life will light your candle, Mattie. And I know that you’ll take your candle and use it to light the candles of others. You’ll be happy again, and you’ll share that happiness. I understand that right now my words might not seem true. You may have more sad days than happy ones. But all things change, my precious girl, change like the castles in the sky. So when you’re in Thailand, try to be happy, try to run free. Draw a picture for me in the sand and know that I’ll be watching from above.
I love you,
Mommy
Mattie reread her mother’s words, then rolled up the little scroll and placed it in the canister. She leaned back in her chair, watching the ocean below. Sitting near the rooftop pool of their hotel, she had an unobstructed view of the Andaman Sea—an infinite swath of azure-colored water that bordered an immense white-sand beach. Hundreds of red and blue umbrellas lined the near side of the beach, which was packed with thousands of locals and tourists. Though the beach was at least a mile long, very few stretches were free of people.
“What did she say, luv?” Ian asked, looking at Mattie, taking off his T-shirt so that the sun would touch more of his skin.
Mattie pocketed the canister. “She wants me to be happy. She talked about how Buddha said that happiness should be shared.”
He nodded, thinking about Kate’s poem, wondering if she was right, hoping that she was. “When you see statues of Buddha, Roo, you’ll see that he’s usually smiling. Even though his life was no picnic.”
“What did Mommy say to you?”
“She said that she’s still with us. And she wanted us to swim in the ocean.”
“Should we go swimming? Right now?”
Ian looked below. The island of Phuket, which he’d grown to know so well with Kate by his side, was hardly recognizable. The dirt roads and water buffalo, virgin beaches and thatched huts were gone. In their place were busy boulevards and bars, cigarette boats and high-rise hotels. Paradise had been found and lost. In fifteen years. Where they’d once listened to crashing waves, horns and screeches now dominated the air, which, depending on the wind, sometimes carried the scent of burning plastic from a distant dump. Perhaps Ian would come to enjoy this new Phuket, this twisted version of what he’d known. But today was not a day for such discoveries. He would never feel Kate here, try as he might, because the world they had shared was gone.
He turned around, looking at the beautiful swimming pool, the lounge chairs, the unfinished drinks on glass tables. At least the mountains behind them seemed unchanged, green rises that mirrored the waves below. “I reckon we should buzz off for a different island,” he said, shaking his head.
“Why?”
“Look at that street. There’s a bloody Macca’s on the corner.”
“A McDonald’s?”
“And a Starbucks, for the love of God. They’ve . . . they’ve kicked this island in the teeth.”
Mattie scratched at a bug bite near her ankle. “How did it look before?”
He shook his head, handing her a pair of sunglasses. “You should wear your sunnies.”
“How did it look?”
“Well, your mum and I, we used to stay in a little bamboo bungalow near the beach. There was only one paved road, and we’d ride it at night on our motorcycle. We’d maybe see a taxi or two, but that was it. I could switch off the headlamp and follow the street by the light of the stars.” Ian reached into his day pack and handed Mattie a tube of anti-itch cream. “I don’t blame the Thais . . . for this. They only want to make heaps of loot like everyone else. But still, I reckon we should go. There are islands farther from here, places that I hope are still the same.”
“What if they aren’t?”
“That would steal the wind from my sails, to tell the truth. Just like last night, when that little boy ran away with our laundry. But the deeper we go into the sea out there, the farther we’ll get from all this madness.”
“But it wasn’t his fault. He was hungry. He needed the money.”
“I know, luv. I know.”<
Mattie smeared the anti-itch cream on her bug bite, aware that her father would have rather given the boy some money, some job than see him steal their clothes. Seeing that had made him feel helpless.
As her father stared into the distance, Mattie thought about her mother’s words, about how one candle might light another. “Let’s go, Daddy,” she said, standing up. “Let’s find another island.”
FIVE MINUTES INTO THE FERRY RIDE FROM Phuket to the island of Ko Phi Phi, Mattie was reminded of her experience atop the bus in Nepal. Though the ferry was much larger than the bus, most of the passengers had opted to travel on the roof. Almost all of the more than a hundred seats below were empty or filled with crates of Singha beer, boxed televisions, bottled water, pet supplies, and various nonperishable food items.
Since there were no seats on the roof, which had been painted white, people sat on their backpacks or used them as pillows. A few Thais were mixed in with the crowd, but most of the passengers came from Scandinavia, Japan, Korea, Israel, England, and Australia. Many travelers wore nothing more than swimsuits and sunglasses. Beers were consumed, photos taken, books read. Though several passengers listened to iPods, music wasn’t heard, and people weren’t boisterous. A common respect for fellow travelers seemed to linger, as people from all corners of the world set their personal preferences aside so that they could share an experience and the top of a boat.