Elanor Goes Outside

Rocks (They Don't Like Music)

Chapter 2

     "It's nighttime. My parents have my room upstairs, which is a nice thing. I was angry yesterday, but they didn't know it. They might be able to read my brain. They'd have to know I'm feeling something I don't know I'm feeling. I didn't know I was angry until right now. When I'm not angry. Maybe they know anger well enough. My mom gets angry like that sometimes."

     I can tell I wasn't focused on my writing as much as I was on everything else then. I loved the sky. I was looking at the moon. And writing with, what I call, her guidance. I remember when my mom would show me the moon in the dead of night. It was almost morning, and we had just woken up. She'd fly me up the highest heights she'd learn how to fly, and the moon would shine on us brighter than the sun. Then, I didn't think about my mom when I saw the moon. I thought about the moon, but the moon always meant something more than a thing in the sky.

     "I don't know emotions the way they do," I wrote. "Sometimes I feel nice, and sometimes, like now, I feel weird. I don't know what this is, though.

     "I wish I could go back to the moon. I like the moon. It's so small from my bedroom. My parents tried to keep me close to the sky, but this doesn't feel like anything. I'll be back on the ground again in the morning, and soon I'll have to stay there.

     "I don't like the ground. Or dry doughs, or root pies, or walking to the farmers' markets through that cramped road. I feel like the mountain will move and slam into me and my mom and dad."

     I sat in bed, thinking about what to write next. Trying to get used to the bed and the frame was hard. I was far too tired, though. I fell asleep in the next ten minutes.

     Early in the morning, when I was still tired, with bags under my eyes as a nine-year-old, my mom tried to get me up. I followed far behind her, and she was going slower than usual. She'd wait for me, but I wouldn't stay close.

     "Why is the ground wet?" I asked. "That's gross."

     "Well, Elanor, you won't have to stay on the ground long," my mom said.

     "How are we supposed to fly from here? There aren't any ledges."

     "That's why we're flying here." She grabbed my hand and started walking faster.

     "You want to learn magic, right?" she asked.

     I didn't answer her. I kicked my legs up and didn't feel like talking to her.

     "You know the world isn't as boring as rocks and dirt and water, right?" she asked.

     It was hard for me to get something out. Having to move fast that fast, that early, in that kind of heat was awful. I had to say something though. I'd hate if my mom thought I was dull.

     "Uh-huh." I said

     "So, how do we know that we aren't a part of that boring equation, but instead a part of the beautiful, complicated, mystical one?"

     "The moon."

     "Heh. Not what I was looking for, but I didn't know what you were going to say. Alright."

     She stopped running then. She started tapping my arm to my heart's tempo. She would do this a lot, especially before storms, or when she needed a lot more air. I never knew what it meant, though.

      "When your dad and I were kids, there were these things we called green crystals. Back then you could take one of these, and with a few weeks of training, master any technique for flying and then some. It's not then anymore, though, so we've had to care more to find more. Why do you think we didn't give up on magic when we lost our source?"