Gentle sunlight filtered through the trees, making the moss on the forest floor quite green. The small creek a couple acres away sparkled and danced and everyone in the village was quite happy to be alive that day. The sun shone on the backs of their necks as they gardened and worked in the fields. A blacksmith hammered at an iron farming tool- his skilled, calloused hands knowing what to do like second nature.
Nobody noticed the girl in a white dress standing at the edge of the forest overlooking the village, thinking that this must be a lot of somethings.
It was hard at first, you know... being alive. I spent a few hours trying to walk and toppling over after I stood, remembering that I didn't know how to walk. Or what walking was.
The sheer amount of things in this place was overwhelming and gave me quite the headache.
I was beginning to get quicker in asking questions, so I wondered if there were any things like me that could help me understand what's going on. There were many things like this tree, like that tree over there, and there was a flower like that one over there, so could there be another of me, somewhere?
I wandered carefully, looking down at my bare feet (although I didn't know that was what they were called at the time) the moss padded floor tickling me with dew, until I tripped quite ungracefully and caught myself on a sap-covered tree. I slowly looked up for the first time and my eyes trailed down the long, grassy slope, up the field where- yes! Other things like me! I excitedly wiggled and, in turn, toppled, surprised, down the slope.
The fall was not what you would call a pleasant roll down the hill. I hit my head on a rock and twisted my wrist the wrong way trying to grab at a clump of grass until I rolled to a halt at the bottom.
Now a little dirty and my dress grass-stained, but spirits higher than ever at being a little closer to the Thing That Were Just Like Me, I jumped to my feet and raced to the fields to meet the workmen and women.
I didn't fully understand the concept of momentum, so when I started going faster because of the downhill slope, I was delighted and blissfully unaware that it would be harder to stop running. I actually didn't think about stopping until I neared the first workman, a tall, rosy-cheeked woman with her strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail. I toppled over and the last thing I saw before I blacked out was the bottoms of her overalls and her dirty black boots.
Well, this is not how I imagined my Thursday would go. I thought as I hoisted the girl over my shoulder. Whatever unexpected things you think could happen in this remote little town, a strange girl in a dirty white dress and leaves in her hair running at the fieldworkers at full speed is not among them. Especially when you're the one who has to carry her to the village.
As young as she looked, (probably in the fourteen to fifteen area, I thought), she was not light.
I struggled up the stair pathway into the village and finally up the infirmary doorstep. I had friends behind me, Leslie, the hardened field worker the girl fell in front of, Geoffrey, a guy of few words- about my age, and my little brother, Marcus. He was a frail, almost shrimpy farmhand who spent most of his time eating grass and begging to collect eggs from the neighboring farms. (He had begged to come along, because 'it was the first interesting thing to happen here!', but I knew my little brother and I knew when he was crushing. I laughed at the thought of developing a crush on someone who's been unconscious for the duration of your knowing her, until I remembered the tale of Snow White and shut up.) Leslie pushed in front of me to knock on the door. Immediately, scrambling was heard and a commotion was made inside, including tools clattering, a loud thump, and a shrill voice yelling.
We stood, waiting awkwardly for the door.
It swung open to the two Renée sisters, the scatterbrained and loud nurses of the town.
"Sorry about the wait, you guys," Missy Renée said in her high voice, stifling a giggle when she saw me.
"Yeah, but come in," said Grace Renée with a hard glare at her sister.
"So, what have we got?" Grace asked, drying her hands on her apron after what may have been the most thorough wash I have seen in my life. Missy ran her hands through the water and called it good, shaking her hands dry and sloshing water across the room.
I gestured to the girl, now laying on the cot in the back of the badly lit hospital room. (Though hospital is an overstatement. It was a first aid room for the village and its only customers were the blacksmith for burn treatment and little kids scraping their knees.)
"She came running down the hill from the forest. Tripped head over heels at my feet. Never seen a darn thing like it," Leslie told them.
Missy started giggling again and Grace pushed her.
"Well, she seems fine. I don't know what we can do other than cleanin' her up an' putting a coupla' bandages if she really needs 'em," Missy finally said.
"We can give her a new dress an' shoes and stay a few nights but don't go askin' us to adopt her." Her sister examined the girl.
"Perfect. Yes. We can come back in about an hour to check on her...?" I asked, setting them off giggling again for god knows what reason.
"...Yes, Of... Of course, Rowan..." Grace said between snorts.
I shot them a final quizzical look and we left the place.
Geshfell may not have been the most primitive village of it's time, but streetlights were lanterns, houses were homes, and the 24 hour store was an open air market filled with merchants in booths. The square traditionally doubled as a party center... filled with laughing and dancing people, the sound of musicians performing filled the warm air with a magical feeling. The moon beamed bright that night down on Geshfell, illuminating the happy villagers with a light that made you sigh in contentment.
Rowan holds Geoffrey's hand.
Maybe it was the never-ending bickering between the Renée sisters, maybe it was the moonbeam that shone right on my face through the curtain-less window, maybe it was the overall excitement in the air at night in Geshfell, but I couldn't sleep. Not only that, I didn't want to sleep.
I more or less had my wits about me now, and understood more about the world just listening to what Missy and Grace argued about.
(Who was Rowan? Why were they claiming him? Did they think to ask him what he thought?)
I sighed. I had a bruise on my cheek and a bandage on my arm and my headache still lingered, but my mind didn't allow me to sit still.
I propped myself up on my cot, threw back the thin cotton blanket, and crawled to the window sill overlooking the market. I let out a small gasp.
The villagers danced with each other and laughed loud enough to hear from inside the hospital. Merchants made deals and traded with the townsfolk. Children played at the edges of the street and everyone was bathed in a golden light from the lanterns and moon.
It was beautiful.
And I had to go see it.
Silently, carefully, I tiptoed out of bed. My new, much nicer cotton dress's faded yellow fabric didn't make a sound.
I edged to the door, eyes locked on the two sisters, arguing while violently washing dishes. I took another step. They noticed nothing. I rested my hand on the wall for balance... right on a picture frame that clattered to the floor.
I froze in shock, eyes saucers. My heart felt louder than the shattered picture frame. I looked up slowly at Grace and Missy... who didn't do much as flinch.
"You wash, I rinse!"
"No, I dry and you wash AND rinse!"
"THAT'S NOT FAIR!"
"NEITHER WAS YOURS!!!"
I sighed. I turned the handle and stepped out before carefully closing it, collapsing for a second on the stairs in relief.
"Now," I grinned, "The marketplace."
