Trading with Death Read online

  Part Six

  The scent of pine needles piqued my nose and I awoke, lying on the forest floor. The trees stretched away on all sides and I listened for their sylvan voice, usually so silvery and light, but for once, I could hear only silence. Perhaps I’d banged my head because the woods around me appeared strangely flat too; as if they’d lost that deep life that I so loved. I rolled onto my knees and sprang to my feet in one jump, then stopped to stare down at my own legs. Taking a breath, I called for Taka and my chest expanded with ease, the air flowing in. So I drew in more and more until I stood there like a pumped-up balloon, my lungs stretched way out. I let it go with a gush. Something odd and fizzy filled my veins and it made me feel so alive and happy that I skipped around the glade.

  “Taka!”

  No one replied. Where on earth was she and where was Grandma? I carried on skipping round and round that old log. Gosh, look how high I could go with each step. I made myself go higher and faster, the little pine needles scooting out from under my feet.

  I called out in rhythm to my skips, “Taka, Taka, Taka!”

  Now I was breathless and I stopped, feeling the chill of an old dread as I waited for the coughing to rip at my lungs. Nothing happened. The woods remained silent. I knew that Taka would never have left me alone, only perhaps I’d collapsed and she’d run home for help. I’d better go after her.

  My legs were light and I ran with ease, the dark forest floor springy under each step. That’s not right, I could never go fast like that and the pain in my chest had completely disappeared. I ran just like my sister and Taka was a champion runner at school; I’d watched her many times with pride and, sorry to say, a little envy.

  I came to the edge of the woods. Ahead, further down the hill, lay the stile into Mr Greg’s field and when I got there I’d be able to see the roof of our house. But I knew this wasn’t right, I knew that I had to stop. I caressed the yellow lichen on a tree, the tiny fronds delicate beneath my fingertips. I slowly reached to the nape of my neck. As I suspected, my long, brown plait was no longer there. Instead, I found Taka’s short ponytail and blue elastic.

  “Go home. Run home,” said the Taka in me and I wanted to, I really did but I could hear another voice too and I think it was the part of me that remained Dalvar and I knew she wanted me to wait.

  So I sat down right where I was, looking out over the prickly thistles thick along the hedgerow. I kept my back to the enchanted forest and, in case the sands of time were turning against me, I rejoiced in every free breath and the fire of health in my veins.

  Final Part

  The shadows of the thistle stems grew longer as the afternoon light began to fade and I still waited, a damp chill penetrating through my clothes, reminding me that evening would soon arrive. How long should I wait and for what? I had no idea. Just as the birds began their dusk chorus bright and lilting from the tree tops, an image flashed clear in my mind of my sister lying in the middle of the forest, right by the old log. Where she’d fallen, her long dark hair, which used to be mine, spread across the pine needles. In the scene, Death had disappeared and I knew in that moment, that as my old body died Taka’s spirit had seized the moment and passed across to the other realms. Death had granted her request, allowing Taka to give me her physical form. I bit down hard on my lip. I was the only one to know that though Taka died frightened of Death, she kept true to her bargain. I closed my eyes and wished hard that Death had shown me to Taka, that she’d seen me running through the woods before she died and known that her dearest wish had worked.

  A blackbird alighted close to me. The life in his song registered as a bitter counterpoint to my sister’s death but it stirred me to my feet and I turned to face down the field towards the stile. I must have staggered those first few steps before I broke into a run, my feet flying over the muddy tussocks.

  I didn’t stop until I reached home and as I rushed into the yard, Mother hurried out from the kitchen. She clutched her apron, her face pale and I bent over and retched. Mother dashed straight for the bell at the front of the house. Father had hung it there last year and now I knew why. Its harsh clang rang out and mother pulled and pulled at it like she would never stop. Father must have been working in the far fields because it seemed like an eternity before he came. His heavy boots thudded across the yard. His shirt was open and perspiration glittered on his neck.

  “Dalvar?” He choked out the name. I stood right before him but he saw only Taka’s body, not me inside and so, speechless, I turned my gaze towards the woods.

  Our neighbour, Mr Greg, appeared and he briefly lay his hand on father’s shoulder, before the two of them set off at a sprint up the hill. I followed behind. When we reached the middle of the woods, Father knelt beside my sister’s body and stroked his hand across her brow. I’ll never forget the look on his face; as if something inside him had broken. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the house. Right by that old log, my pink ribbon trailed across the ground. I picked it up and stuffed it into my pocket.

  Everyone thought it was me father carried back. That night, mother, father and I sat a night vigil and the flickering candles cast their mellow light. She was buried two days later and I kept my silence, never telling anyone that I am Dalvar and they all call me ‘Taka’, well, of course they would, wouldn’t they? Though, in truth, a part of me is neither Taka nor Dalvar and that part shall do far darker deeds than they ever would. That was Death’s gain in the bargain. When I look in the mirror I can see it, that faintest of shadows around my body, like a thin layer of liquid smoke clinging to my flesh. I wonder what it will spur me to do? No one else ever notices.

  ***

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