Smevy

4

I had been eight when the whole "finding Grya confined to her parent's basement" thing happened. Mckayla was 7, Notch 14, Baritone 16, Grayheart 15, Purplewing 13, Jane 15, and Esmerelda 17. A year passed, me and Grya getting to know each other very well, often going to each other's houses for playdates. I never told her about my secret, though I had a feeling she would be okay with it. It was just...too scary to say out loud. How do you tell someone you're a girl a third of the time? However, she would always call me Smevy, even after she found out my real name, because I liked it more.

During the end of the year, we were over for a playdate, waiting for Grya to come out of the bathroom, when I overheard a conversation between mom and Mrs. Smith that worried me.

"I still cannot believe you have a daughter," my mom was saying. "We've known your family for how many years?"

"She was very shy when she was younger," said Mrs. Smith, keeping her welcoming smile pasted on, even as anger flashed in her eyes.

"I see," said my mom evenly. "You know, Mckayla also struggled with being very self-conscious when she was younger, I wonder if she and Grya would get along. Maybe she could come over for a sleepover sometime."

"Thank you for the offer, but I don't think so," said Mrs. Smith. She glanced behind her. "Grya, it's rude to keep guests waiting!"

"I'm almost done!"

Mrs. Smith turned back to us. "Sorry about this."

"No need to apologize, when you've got to go, there's nothing anybody can do." Mom turned to me. "Joseph, how about you go outside? We'll send her out when she's done."

I nodded and turned to go, but it didn't take long for the confusion to start. Why did she want me to leave? Was she going to say something that she didn't want me to hear? What was she trying to protect me from? So I only turned the corner before stopping, ready to bolt for the door if I heard footsteps.

"I know about your secret," said my mom. The cheer was gone, replaced with a deadly seriousness that chilled me to the bone. "And what you were doing to that little girl wasn't right." Mrs. Smith must have tried to say something, because my mom snapped, "Don't you try to argue! I know you think morphs deserve to be locked away, but differences are something to celebrate!"

What about me? The thought sprang unbidden to my mind. Are my differences okay with you? Or is it just differences you agree with?

The last one was especially jarring, and I slipped out before I heard Mrs. Smith's response. Once I was through the door, I walked to a tall oak tree and sat down, pressing my back against it until I slipped into the sweet spot I'd discovered the previous month.

What was wrong with me? Mom and dad wanted the best for me, and here I was doubting them. For all I knew, how I felt was actually wrong, against the laws of nature themselves. Maybe I was supposed to be exactly the gender I was born as, and all of this was just me trying to be special... To be honest, the thoughts kept me awake at night.

I heard a stick crack and looked up. Grya was sitting next to me. "Hi Smevy, how are you?"

"Fine," I responded, pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind. I was used to doing that, but it was getting harder. "You?"

"I've given up on trying to make my family like me."

"Oh. So, bad."

"Yep."

Neither of us said anything. Then she patted me on the shoulder and said, "So what's been going on with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been really quiet lately."

There was a reason behind that, but I didn't want her to think I was weird. On the other hand, she was asking. In the end, I decided not to ask- the question was if I could try on one of her dresses. I'd done it with one of Mckayla's, but it was far too small, and all the happiness I felt in it was kind of ruined by the fact that I was afraid I would break it if I breathed too hard. But Grya was nearer my size, so what fit her would probably fit me.

It didn't matter though, and I tried to let it go. Instead, I picked something that had been bugging me for a while. "You feel safe with your family, right?"

"Aw, thanks Smevy. You're a good friend." She stood up. "Do you want to play tag or hide-and-seek?

"I'm good with either, but I think the water's high in the creek now, so I'd rather do that," I said, giving her an odd look. She hadn't elaborated.

"Oh yeah, that could be fun, now that we don't have some of the big kids slowing us down."

"Yeah. You didn't answer my question though- do you feel safe?"

She smiled a little, but her eyes were sad. "Everything's going to be fine, Smevy. I promise."

We went down to the creek, and I asked her about what she meant a few times, but she never said anything past that.

A few weeks later, she disappeared. It worried me at first because I thought maybe her parents had done something, but then, on a visit to their house for the next harvest festival, I found a note in our favorite spot in the grassy clearing under the soaring willow. The handwriting was Grya's- messy, but confident.

"Smevy, I ran away. I have this bad feeling about my family, and I want to get away from them. Don't try to find me, and don't worry about me- I've been grilling Scott" (One of her brothers) "about outdoor survival, and I learned a lot, so I'll be safe.

-Much love, Grya."

I kept that note in my pocket for the next two years, but it quickly faded, the rough charcoal pencil marks rubbing off into unreadable smears. On the eve of my eleventh birthday, I held the note above a candle until it caught fire, then set in one of our small, chipped plates until it burned to nothing. Then I walked to the window, opened it, held the plate up against the moon, and blew.

The ashes flew like gray bird feathers, whispers of a past better unlived and a future that would never be. I smiled sadly, a tear falling from my chin. "The Good," I said softly, "If you're out there...please protect Grya."

A slight wind danced around my shoulders, and my smile widened, more tears falling. "Thank you."

"Thank you."