Lailey’s Story
If you look to the sky when the stars shine down like twinkling gems, you won’t be able to discern this star. It’s too far away for the human eye to see, but it exists nonetheless. And around this sun circle six planets, and on the fourth planet, which is green and blue like Earth, life was also created.
On that planet, virtually everything is the same as on Earth. The trees are green, the sky is blue, the oceans are deep and fathomless, and the animals are similar in fashion to Earth’s creatures. Only the people are different. In fact, you might even say odd-looking. Oh, they have two eyes, ears, legs, feet, hands and arms, and are just like human beings in every way, except for one big difference.
All of the men on that planet are born with blue hair and pink skin, and all of the women have purple hair and green skin. Granted, it’s not just purple, pink, green and blue—that would be boring—but lilac and lavender, and rose and magenta, and navy and azure and cerulean, and emerald and lime.
So on that planet, on a beach near the largest ocean lived a lowly fisherman. His name was Toby, and when the wind blew, his hair flowed as though the sky itself were moving, and his skin was deep pink from all his time spent under the sun. Toby lived in a small two-room shack on the beach, surrounded by craggy rocks, and high up on those cliffs were tall trees. He didn’t own much, save for a little boat that was his father’s. He wasn’t good at much, either, and it plagued him. He tried so many things, and each time, managed to somehow break whatever it was that he was working on. His wife Maia was good at cooking, and he wanted to be able to fry anything with her skill, but he burned the fish, and almost set the shack on fire. Maia then told him to stick to fishing. He loved to fish, and he was actually so good at it that he and Maia lived fairly well in that little shack.
What Toby and Maia wanted more than anything in the world was a child. They prayed and prayed each night, and tried so hard, but it seemed that their efforts were all in vain. It wasn’t until, with the worst timing possible—a drought overtook the whole country—that Maia told Toby she was expecting. Toby was overjoyed, but worried. All the rivers and streams had practically dried up. There was no spawning ground for fish, and he couldn’t catch anything in the ocean. He and Maia and the new baby might all die because no fish meant nothing to sell at the market, and that meant no food.
So one day when he and Maia were extremely hungry, he set out in his fishing boat with determination. He kissed his wife before he left, and ran his hands through her lilac hair, hoping against hope that he would catch something.
“Be careful,” Maia said, resting her hands on her giant belly.
“I will,” Toby said, as he loaded the boat with fresh water and all of his nets.
He went out with the tide, like all good fishermen do, and rowed hard out into the open sea, because there was no sign of a breeze. And he rowed. And he rowed. He rowed until he couldn’t see his wife waving to him anymore, until he couldn’t even see the beach that she stood on. He was so intent on rowing that he didn’t see the storm until it was on top of him.
Waves crashed, and rain pounded, and lightning lit the sky. Toby’s craft was tossed around like a child’s sailboat in the bath. He still doesn’t know how he managed to stay above water; possibly because the storm was over so soon after it began, and it made its way toward the mainland with a furious speed. Toby sat in his little boat, his bright blue hair soaked, every inch of him as wet as the sea around him. He just stared at the now sunny sky in shock for what seemed like hours. Finally, he shook himself out of it, and decided to start throwing out his net.
He threw out his net and rowed back toward shore, and pulled his net in.
Nothing.
He threw out his net and rowed back toward shore, and pulled it in.
Nothing.
He threw out his net and rowed a bit longer and pulled it in, and—oh, what the heck was a moldy boot doing in the middle of the ocean? He threw his net and dragged it in what seemed like a thousand times. The storm hadn’t brought any fish to the surface. Toby pouted for a bit, unsure of what to do. He was awfully close to the mainland, and knew he wasn’t going to catch anything this time, but threw out his net anyway, resolutely trying one last time.
This time it was different. The net strained and pulled, and heaved and fought every inch of the way. Toby started to get excited. Maybe, at last, he was pulling some fish in! With one last mighty heave, he got the last of the net in, and sat back against his seat, panting.
There was only one fish in the net, but oh, what a fish! Practically five feet long, its fins were twice the length of its body, giving it a glamorous appearance. This fish glistened in the sunlight, and Toby saw every color imaginable undertoned in its gleaming white scales—the entire rainbow, but also black and white and gray and pink and every other color in the world. Toby started to get excited. He could take this fish to the market and get a huge sum of money for it. Kings from every nation would fight over it. Toby started to imagine what life would be like with all the money in the world.
“I know what you’re thinking,” the fish said, and Toby let out a yell of surprise and practically jumped out of the boat. A talking fish? Toby knew that any amount of money he would receive for a rainbow fish would double for a talking rainbow fish. Everyone was looking to see if magic still existed in the world, and this certainly proved it.
“What am I thinking?” Toby asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice from shaking. The fish’s coal-black eyes glittered in the light.
“You want to sell me at the market and make yourself rich. But I don’t want to go and entertain kings and wise men,” the fish said, flopping a bit, but getting more tangled in the net.
“Why not?” Toby asked. “You would be famous. Everyone would love you!”
“No, they wouldn’t,” the fish said. “What if you sold me to someone who just wanted to eat me? Lots of people now think that eating magical creatures makes them magical. It doesn’t; it just makes them idiots for killing off the last of the magic.”
“I guess . . .” Toby began, but stopped. “Well, you see, I could really use the money. My wife is pregnant, and we’re hungry. There’s a drought on the mainland, you know.”
“Yes, well, I’ll make you a deal,” the fish said. “If you release me, I shall grant you one wish, any wish you could ever want.”
Toby thought about it for a while. One wish, or a lifetime of wealth? Finally, he settled on a wish, knowing that he wanted this more than he wanted so much money.
“All right,” Toby said, helping the fish to wriggle out of the net. “I wish that my child would be greater in life than I am.” The fish giggled—it was so strange to hear—and with a mighty flop, jumped over the side of the boat and back into the ocean.
“Your child,” the fish began, after a small frolic in the water, “will be so great, that kings and wise men will go to it, and it shall give advice to the whole world.” And with one last burst of laughter, the fish dove back into the waves and was gone in the blink of an eye.
Toby smiled absently, wondering how in the world he was going to explain this to Maia. Sighing with resolution, he rowed back toward the little beach that was his home. Toby was happy that his child was going to be famous. He smiled, not caring about explanations.
Maia was standing on shore, watching for him to come back. She ran to him as he pulled his boat in through the waves. “Oh, Toby!” she cried, giving him a huge hug. “The drought is over! When I saw that storm coming, I was so worried for you!” Toby patted her on the head and kissed her.
“I’m fine, Maia,” he comforted, trying to tie his boat up as she hung onto him.
“You must have caught something,” she said, breaking away and rooting through all the nets.
“Well,” Toby said, trying to think of something to say.
“What?” Maia asked, looking back at him.
“Well, I caught a magical fish . . .” Toby began.
“Where is it?” Maia cut him off, sounding so excited. Toby sighed. This was the moment of truth.
“Well—“
“What?” Maia demanded, knowing almost too well what he was about to say.
“Well, I sort of . . . let it go in exchange for a wish,” Toby said, all in a rush, steeling himself for the rage that was about to ensue. Maia didn’t get angry. She just looked at him for a moment, up and down.
“What wish did you make?” she asked, glancing back at their two-room shack, “because I don’t see great wealth piling up at our doorstep.”
“I wished that our child would be better off in life than we were,” he said, gently rubbing his sun-reddened neck. Maia sighed, her hands rubbing her huge belly.
“Well, I suppose that’s an acceptable wish,” she said, and gave him a small smile. Toby smiled back, sure that this child would be unlike any other.
It wasn’t two weeks later that Maia went into labor. It was a fast and easy birth, and the child that came out showed to have quick and ready reflexes as it sucked in air and started to cry when Toby thumped its feet. He stood up and held the child in his arms, and what a lovely child it was; hair as deep as sapphires, skin as pale as a rose, and eyes murky and uncertain in color.
“It’s a boy,” he announced, wrapping it in a blanket. Maia struggled to sit up, and took the child from Toby, doing what every parent does—checked the child all over—counted all the fingers and toes, and cleaned the infant off. As she was inspecting the beautiful child, she realized something was amiss.
“Toby,” Maia said, as he puttered about the room, making sure that she was comfortable. “I don’t think that this is a boy,” she announced, holding the baby out to his inspection. The tiny child howled indignantly as it lay exposed in the chill room. Toby looked it over, and discovered that truly, something was amiss.
This baby was, without question, a girl.
“But . . . but . . . how?” Toby asked, staring at his pretty daughter. “This has never happened before!”
“I know,” Maia said, and took the child back, wrapped her up, and began nursing her. “Do you think something’s wrong with her? Something that doctors should check on?”
“Doctors? We don’t have enough money for doctors. And she looks healthy enough to me.” Toby shook his head, thoroughly confused. “Let’s keep an eye on her for a while just to make sure. If worse comes to worse we can always go to a doctor.”
Maia sighed, but agreed with him. “All right. But what are we going to name her?”
“Lailey,” Toby said, without hesitation. “After your mother.” He shook his head, knowing that somehow, all of this was the fish’s doing.
Lailey grew up playing on the beach. From the time she could toddle around, she was always following her father, and loved to go fishing with him. They walked along the beach and collected shells and threw starfish back into the ocean, and built sand castles, and buried each other in shallow pits. She loved to follow her mother around too, and was always making suggestions when Maia was cooking something, and learned a great deal about her tiny world before she turned six years old.
The rule of the country was that children, as soon as they turned six, needed to go to school. Lailey, a normally sweet and shy girl, practically threw a temper tantrum when she learned of this fact.
“But I don’t wanna go!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “I wanna stay here with you and Daddy!”
“Sweetie, you need to go to school,” Maia explained patiently. “We can’t keep you here forever. I know how much you love helping out, but you get to learn so many exciting things in school.”
“I can learn things here. I want you to teach me!”
“Lailey,” Toby said, his voice sharp and commanding. He rarely used that tone unless he was angry with her. She stopped arguing with her mother and turned around to look at her father, hands clasped behind her back, lower lip being bitten. “There is no point in arguing. You are going, and that is final.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said quietly, for she always listened to her father.
The first day of school rolled around, and Maia helped Lailey get dressed. She combed the little girl’s blue hair until it shone, plaited it into two braids, and tied the ends with dark green ribbons. Lailey slid into a viridian dress that offset the color of her pale skin perfectly, and buckled her brand new black shoes. Maia stood back and admired her daughter.
I don’t think she would be prettier even if she were colored like a girl, Maia thought, giving her daughter a kiss on the forehead. Lailey looked up at her mother and stuck out her lower lip.
“I’m ready,” she said, in a pouting manner. Maia smiled and handed Lailey a knapsack full of lunch.
“Have fun, Lailey,” Toby said, as his daughter made her way toward the door. Lailey turned around and smiled at her father, though they both knew that she was putting on a show.
“Yes, Daddy,” Lailey said, and opened the door and trudged off toward the school.
It was the worst day of her life.
The teacher asked her why a boy would wear his hair long and a dress—was he trying to embarrass himself? She didn’t believe it when Lailey told her she was a girl, not a boy. All the boys made fun of her, and none of the girls would play with her. She sat alone at lunch, watching the other children talk and get along so well. Even the teacher seemed to ignore the plight of the six-year-old, and it was all Lailey could do to stop herself from bursting into tears and running away.
She was ecstatic when they let her go home, but on the long walk back, couldn’t help thinking about the names they called her. Silent tears rolled down her face, and she didn’t bother to brush them away. She might as well look as miserable as she felt.
“How was your first day?” Toby asked, as she closed the door behind her, and then noticed the tear trails on her face, and looked guiltily toward Maia.
“Why didn’t you tell me that I was different?” Lailey screamed, throwing the knapsack to the ground.
“Oh, Lailey,” Maia said, and went to hug her daughter, but Lailey just pushed her mother away. “We’re sorry.”
“They didn’t understand. They just made fun of me. Why am I so bad?” she demanded, pulling on her long braids.
“Well, you’re unique,” Toby began, not quite sure how to explain it to her. “Did they think you were a boy?”
“Yes,” Lailey cried, sobbing into her hands. “It was horrible! I’m never going back, ever! I just want to be normal!”
“Oh Lailey, you’re so beautiful the way you are,” Maia began, trying once more to comfort her daughter, but once more Lailey just shrugged her off.
“No Mom, I’m a freak. That’s what they called me behind my back. A weird little freak.” She looked up at her parents, her eyes brimming with tears, lower lip trembling. “You once told me that magic made me the way I am, right?” she sniffled, remembering the story her father had told her of the rainbow fish he’d caught and made a deal with.
“Well, we assume so,” Maia said, her heart jumping into her throat. She was almost afraid to ask what Lailey was thinking.
“Well, if magic can make me, maybe it can unmake me. I’m going to find someone who can make me normal.” Lailey’s dark eyes flashed as she looked from her mother to her father. “Don’t you dare try to stop me, either.”
Maia and Toby just looked at each other. They knew how stubborn Lailey could be when she put her mind to it. Toby sighed as Maia looked at him, her deep gray eyes betraying the sadness that she felt. They both knew that if Lailey left, she would probably never come back; she was destined for greatness, and she would more than likely have a much better chance out in the world than anything they could give her.
“All right, darling,” Maia said, standing. “Let’s get you ready to make a journey.” Lailey walked off to her room and changed from her pretty school outfit into traveling clothes.
“I don’t want her to go,” Toby whispered once the child was gone. “I’ll miss her something awful.” Maia puttered around the kitchen, making quite a few peanut butter sandwiches for Lailey to take on her journey.
“I will too, Toby,” Maia confessed, throwing him a look as Lailey emerged from her room, her hair still tied in its neat double-braids, but wearing a white shirt and brown pants.
“Are you packing extra underwear?” Toby asked, like a good father. Lailey held up her knapsack to him, and nodded, her small face set with determination.
“Yes, Daddy,” Lailey said, as Maia tucked the sandwiches into the traveling pack, so that they were snuggled between the clean pairs of underpants.
“You take care of yourself,” Maia said, giving the girl a tight hug and a giant kiss on the forehead. “Never, never forget how much we love you.”
Toby knelt down as Lailey made her way over to him, tears almost showing in her eyes as well. “We love you no matter what, Lailey,” Toby said, “even if you were to sprout a second nose on your chin.” Lailey smiled at the thought, but shook it off and kissed her father on his rough cheek.
“I love you too,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to keep her tears in check. They flowed freely down her face. She stood and walked to the door, and traipsed across the sandy beach, up toward the town that she’d just come from not an hour before. Toby and Maia stood in their front door, waving to their daughter until she was well out of sight, and her footprints washed out by the waves.
“It’ll be all right,” Toby said, his arm around his sobbing wife. “Perhaps a rich king or wise man will take her in. She’ll have a better life than we could ever give to her.” He led Maia back into the shack, and closed the door behind them.
They never saw their daughter again.
Lailey set out with fresh determination, but as she trudged on, sand started to get into her shoes. The peanut butter sandwiches didn’t last her long. Dirt found its way into the oddest of places, and she ran out of clean underwear. She was miles away from any town, and started to worry. I have no idea where to go, she thought, staring into the fields in front of her. She’d never been this far from her little home in her entire life. The nights were cold, lonely and scary, and the days were starting to get colder. Something in her said she needed to find shelter or something terrible would happen.
And the hunger! Lailey had never known a day of true hunger in her young life. She’d been a fat, happy baby, and had grown up well fed. Now, her stomach growled with hunger at each step she took. When she stumbled upon the tomato plants, she thought that she’d been seeing things. But as they just kept going and going, she started picking the reddest, ripest ones off the vines, and ate them as fast as she was able. When she reached the grapevines, she was almost convinced that she’d died and gone to heaven. She picked many of those ripe green fruits and shoved them into her mouth.
A shadow fell over her, and she would have screamed had her mouth been empty. A man loomed over her, his sun-reddened skin showing through his grizzly blue beard, a straw hat shaded most of his face. She knew from his looks that this man was old, but he’d scared her so!
“What are you doing to my grapes?” he demanded, his arms crossed across a chest that used to be broader before old age started to grip him. Lailey swallowed her mouthful with a loud gulp! and started to quake in her dusty shoes.
“I . . . I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “I was just so hungry . . .”
“And since when do boys wear braids?” he asked, looking a bit confused. Lailey pulled herself up to her full height—she barely reached his bellybutton—and raised her chin to look into his face.
“I’m not a boy, I’m a girl, thank-you-very-much,” she said, with a tone that showed she didn’t appreciate him calling her a boy, or scaring her, for that matter.
The man with the straw hat looked down at her, and saw in her a spark of someone else, someone he’d known a long time ago. Someone he hadn’t seen since she’d left the farm and run off to be married. Despite the blue hair and pink skin, Lailey reminded him of his daughter, whom he hadn’t spoken to in years.
“I’m very sorry, little lady,” he said, removing the straw hat. His grizzled blue hair had receded, and left a very shiny bald spot on the top of his head. Lailey looked down at her dirt-stained hands, wishing fervently for a bath, and perhaps some clean clothes.
“That’s all right, everybody thinks I’m a boy anyway. I’m trying to find someone who can turn me into a normal person,” she said, looking back up into his deep brown eyes. The farmer cocked his head to get a better look at her.
“Now why would you want to go and do a thing like that? You’re perfectly fine just the way you are,” he said, squatting down to her level. She crossed her arms and gave him her perfected pout.
“I am not,” she replied, pulling on her disheveled braids. “I have blue hair, and pink skin, and everyone thinks I’m some strange boy! I’m an . . . an . . . abomination!” she cried, tears streaming down her dirt-caked cheeks. That was the worst of the names that her schoolmates had called her; she’d heard it whispered behind her back. Even the teacher had said so, when the principal had paid his visit. She cried then, smearing her tears about on her face until the dirt practically became mud.
“Now listen, young miss,” the farmer said, his voice calm and quiet, for this girl evoked tender feelings he hadn’t remembered for years. “You are not an abomination. You simply had the misfortune of being born a bit different from everyone else. I’ve heard of a great Oracle who lives far to the north; he may be able to help you with your plight.”
“Really?” Lailey asked between sobs. The farmer nodded.
“You bet. But before you go, would you like to stay with me for a while? I can teach you all about growing things, and about all sorts of good plants to eat.” He chuckled as he took her into his arms. “And I’ll bet you could use a bath, and perhaps some clean underwear?”
Lailey giggled through her tears. This man was nothing like she’d expected from other people. He was offering her kindness, and had even told her which direction to head . . . if she knew where north was, anyway. He wasn’t suspect or even cruel. He’d just accepted the fact that she was different.
“All right, I’ll stay with you,” she said, as he scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the huge farmhouse.
“By the way, sweetie, I forgot to ask your name. I’m Gui; generally people call me Farmer Gui.”
“I’m Lailey,” she said, smiling and cuddling up to his shoulder.
The bath that he drew for her was the most exquisite soak that she’d ever had. She scrubbed herself three times, all over, to get the dirt out of every crevice and pore. That night’s sleep, on a springy heather-stuffed mattress, was the best rest that she’d had in a very long time. And the next day, she began to help Farmer Gui in his work on his immense farm.
Three years passed. Lailey learned everything she’d ever want to know about plants. Farmer Gui was impressed with her skill for remembering each and every wildflower by name, and remembering everything they could do. She’d run into the woods for practically an entire day, and return with bouquets of gorgeous-smelling, medicinal and edible plants and flowers. She helped him harvest his tomatoes and grapes, and grew taller and stronger than ever. She would have forgotten about her quest, if she hadn’t accompanied him into town one day.
The farm that she helped him care for was quite isolated, surrounded by woods and a wide lake. She and Farmer Gui were the only two who lived there, and visitors rarely stopped by. So when they headed into town to sell the ketchup and wine that they bottled themselves, everyone whispered at the unusual son that Farmer Gui had somehow acquired. Lailey held in her tears as best she could, until on the ride back to the farm, she once more burst into tears.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she announced over a delicious carrot-and-rabbit stew that night. Farmer Gui didn’t say anything, just heaved a sigh. He’d known this day wasn’t long in coming; Lailey’s restless spirit and obsessive desire to become normal would make her leave him. He didn’t want her to go. He’d enjoyed her presence, and felt almost like a young father once more. But the call of destiny was tangible on the air around her, and he knew that he had to let her go.
“Very well,” he murmured, and looked so tearful that she jumped up from her seat and clasped her arms tightly around him in a giant hug.
“Will you show me the way tomorrow?” she asked meekly, almost afraid that he’d deny her, and she’d have to find it all on her own. He sighed again, and put his arms around the daughter he’d adopted for such a short time.
“Very well,” he said, and released her. Excitedly, she ignored the rest of her stew and ran to her room to begin packing. Farmer Gui sat at the small table, his spoon hanging limply in his bowl. Autumn was closing in with a rapid pace—he could already see the gold tinge to the leaves—and she’d be vulnerable once more. He wished she’d stay for the end of the harvest season, because he could truly use the help; but if she stayed, she’d not want to go in winter, and then more than likely she’d help him with the spring tilling and planting . . . and then she’d never leave.
Lailey was thinking some of the very same things herself as she gathered her few belongings. What would she do for winter? She didn’t quite know yet, but so many plants in the woods were edible, and she just knew that her luck would hold out. She also knew, somehow, that her life contained just a touch of destiny, though she wasn’t exactly sure what to call it yet. She sat down on the bed, clutching the small knapsack that she’d left her original home with. In the three short years that she’d been with Farmer Gui, she’d quite forgotten about her parents. His presence seemed to fill that gap in her heart. And now, she was leaving home again.
A spark of resolution glistened in her eyes as she put out her candle and lay down in bed. Now wasn’t a time to feel sorry for herself. She’d have plenty of time for that over the long winter. She fell asleep that night, trying to stop the excitement from coursing through her veins. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to find the Oracle in the next year, and then she could go back to her parents, and show them all the things she’d learned from Farmer Gui.
The next morning, Lailey woke up as the bright fingers of dawn were just beginning to reach over the horizon. She wanted to get an early start that day, and knew from the sounds in the kitchen that Farmer Gui was already awake. With a heavy heart she got out of bed and picked up her sack of clothes and headed down to the kitchen.
Farmer Gui looked up from the frying pan and smiled at her. “Good morning, child,” he said, motioning to the table where a huge stack of chocolate chip pancakes sat. He flipped the bacon in the fry pan.
“’Morning,” she replied, helping herself to a large plate of fresh fruit, pancakes, bacon, eggs and toast. She knew that she would need the energy to keep going today, and ate every last bite, even though anticipation had filled her stomach first. Farmer Gui sat next to her and they ate in silence. Tension hung in the air so thickly that she could have cut it with a knife. They both knew that Farmer Gui didn’t want her to go, but he wasn’t going to stop her from leaving. He knew that she would begin to resent him for it, and then one day he’d probably wake up and she’d be gone, leaving only a note behind because she’d run off and gotten married just to spite him. That was how it had happened with his daughter.
“Did you pack enough?” he asked, once they’d finished their meals. She nodded solemnly, not wanting to risk talking for fear that she’d burst into tears. “I won’t make you help with the dishes today, Lailey,” he said, not wanting to put off her leaving any longer than possible. “Come with me and I’ll show you the way through the woods; you can go around town easily.”
They stood and headed out the door. Lailey made sure to grab her bag, and took one last fond look about the farmhouse before closing the door soundlessly behind her. They walked in silence, neither knowing what to say. She had grown in more ways than one in the three years that she’d been with Farmer Gui, and he’d watched her as she gained wisdom and learned about the world around her. She’d also grown almost a foot, and it had been a joy for him to have someone to spend his hard-earned money on once more.
After about an hour of traipsing though the hot vineyard, they made it to the edge of the forest. Farmer Gui paused, knowing that this was where they had to say goodbye. He stood awkwardly for a moment, his straw hat clutched in his hands, unsure of what to do. It had all seemed so easy this morning.
Lailey flung her arms around the old farmer, and hugged him tightly. He squeezed her back, a few tears trickling down his face. “I’m going to miss you, dear,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. Lailey just squeezed him harder.
“I’ll come back if I can,” she said, knowing that she probably never would. “I won’t forget anything you taught me.”
“Don’t forget that I love you,” he said, and let her go. She looked up at him with her undiscernibly colored eyes, which were swimming in tears.
“I’m scared,” she said, her voice breaking, as she looked over her shoulder toward the wood. Farmer Gui smiled wryly down at her and closed his eyes for a moment.
“I’m sure you are. Don’t worry, my girl. You’ll find your way.”
“I’m going to try to avoid towns. I don’t like them much.” She sighed, looking down at her booted feet. “I’m too different for them.”
“Oh, don’t judge others too harshly, Lailey. They just don’t understand that being different is what makes you beautiful. There’s nothing wrong with being unusual. It’s just easier to see what sets you apart because you’re not quite normal on the outside.” He squatted down to her level and brushed her long hair out of her face. She tried to scrub the tear trails off her face quickly, but didn’t catch them in time.
“I fully intend to rectify that situation,” she said, sounding more like an adult than a nine-year-old. Farmer Gui smiled and kissed her on the forehead.
“You’re beautiful on the outside as well as in here,” he tapped her over her heart. “Now get going or we’ll be here half the day.”
“I love you,” she whispered, giving him a kiss on the cheek. And with that, she ran off into the woods, as he stood there, watching for the longest time after she disappeared into the darkness. He knew that he wasn’t ever going to see her again, and he was right. Sighing, he headed back to his farmhouse, which seemed immensely bigger and emptier after her departure.
Lailey stopped running when she couldn’t breathe anymore, and leaned against a tall oak tree, panting. Her chest felt tight with tears, but she fought the urge to break down and cry and forced herself to keep going in the woods. Farmer Gui had told her that the Oracle lived far to the north, so she headed that way, skirting around the town and keeping on her way. She ate what she could find, but autumn was on its fast way, and winter would follow close after that, and she couldn’t afford to get stuck in a blizzard or die in the cold. She’d packed and prepared for winter, but at the moment, in the late summer sunlight as she crossed a clearing, it was only a thought far away.
But autumn came, and brought with it the ripening of wild apples and other fruit, and she started packing more food than she was eating, and trying to find a place to winter. Each night before she went to sleep she scaled a tree to check that she was still following the cluster of three stars which marked north. She also kept a fire burning at night to keep any wild animals away. The ground was her bed, and she used her pack as a pillow. Rivers and streams and the occasional large ponds were her baths. One morning she woke up to a significant chill, and realized that she’d put off finding a place a bit too long. She hadn’t so far encountered any towns or villages, and it was leagues from Farmer Gui’s. A slight undercurrent of fear touched her stomach, and she hopped up from the fireplace on the ground, feeling desperate to find a place to winter. If she couldn’t manage to stumble across a city or even a cave in the next few days, she wouldn’t have any time to start storing things. More than likely she’d freeze to death.
Her footsteps sped up as she frantically began searching the woods around her for anything. She followed the streams for what seemed like hours, hoping against hope that they might lead her to a town, but she had no such luck. It was just as well, she didn’t really want to be stared at by people. Orange and red-tinged leaves scattered around her as she leaned against a tree, panting, her eyes full of tears. How in the world was she ever going to be able to find anywhere to winter? She might be able to build a small shelter, but it wouldn’t last once the snow came. Her best bet would be to find some sort of cave, but she hadn’t seen anything like a cave while wandering through the woods.
As she followed a stream against the current, she noticed the terrain getting rockier, and the streambed getting deeper. She scrabbled down the leaf-covered bank and splashed into the freezing autumn water, which soaked into her shoes. It was very cold in the shade, and Lailey’s desperation to find shelter only increased. Just as she was about to give up hope, she spotted something high up on the craggy wall; something dark and carved into the rock. A ledge stuck out directly underneath it, and a small path, probably a deer trail, led up the side and into the forest. She clapped her hands with glee and scrambled out of the streambed and picked her way carefully up the side and toward the cave.
Warily, she approached, knowing that wolves or lynxes could inhabit the cave already, and she did not want to become a meal for either. Mercifully, the cave was small—Lailey could almost reach the top if she stood on her tiptoes—and there were no wild animal inhabitants; no predators or even bats to watch out for. She probed a bit deeper in, and noticed that the ceiling swept up dramatically about ten paces in, and the side cut sharply to the left, revealing a small nook, which could be useful to build keep a fire out of the wind. The floor was hard packed dirt, which could be dug into to create food caches and also a small fire pit. Excited for the first time about winter, Lailey began the preparations to ensure her survival.
By the time the first snow was on the ground, Lailey had stored as much food and firewood as she would need to survive the frozen months. Everything that she’d ever learned from Farmer Gui was put to the test, and though she wouldn’t be able to eat luxuriously, she knew that there was enough to at least keep her going. She was able to chop wood with the small hatchet that Farmer Gui had given to her, and there were stacks of twigs and even larger logs all around the nook and even into the cave. Traps had been set for small animals, and she skinned and cured the few hares that she was able to catch. She even had baskets woven out of marsh reeds that could hold water and other food supplies. All she had to do was wait for the end of winter.
It was utterly maddening. There was nothing to do all day, other than wait, watch the snow, or scurry down to the stream for water, the nearby marsh for more reeds, or to fell a small tree for more firewood. As winter progressed, it snowed a little, but the wind was bone-chilling, and Lailey stayed huddled in her nook, poking at the coals with a stick, wrapped in her blankets against the cold. She could think of nothing to keep her mind engaged, and often daydreamed of her parents and Farmer Gui. Eventually, she discovered that she could carve crude figures from the wood and played with them as though they were her dolls. As her skill increased, she would toss her old dolls on the fire, though saddened by the loss of playthings that she knew and loved, but happy because she was gaining skill in her whittling.
She could not have been happier to see the first flowers of spring poking their green shoots out of the frost, and though she was itching to get on her way again, she knew that early blizzards were not uncommon, and it was better to stay safe and wait until spring had a true grip on the land. Gathering supplies didn’t take much time, and now that she was refining her carving skills, she could pass away the bright days on the banks of the swollen stream, carving out dolls of her parents and Farmer Gui. She’d cried the day that she could remember neither her father nor mother’s faces, and instead of carving them as detailed as she did Farmer Gui’s, she left them blank lest she someday remembered them.
One day she woke to a very deep chill in the air, and fluffy snow falling on the ground. Thankful that she hadn’t begun on her way yet, she set about stoking the fire and repacking her supplies for what seemed like the hundredth time.
