The Chickadee Girl

A Stumble and a Sprint

Isa had almost no experience in the woods. 

Once, when she was about eleven, she and Malcolm had ventured a little ways into a forest together. A neighbour in town had a huge weekend property in the township to the north of the city, and they'd gone to visit them with their parents. It had been a cold April, but it was warm enough on this day that the creek in the woods which were directly behind the house was nearly thawed. Malcolm and Isa were curious, and city-child confident. While their parents drank wine and talked to Mr. Hall and his wraithlike girlfriend, the two children had slipped away, and found themselves standing on the creek-bank staring down into the water below. There was a thin film of ice still on some parts of the creek where the current was a bit weaker; in other places the water rushed on as though on an errand. The back of the grand house was still within sight, but only just: the woods were thick and dark and the trees were set close together. A blanket of snow still coated the ground in some very low places where sunlight only rarely pierced through. It would be easy to lose your way out here.

Isa still didn't like water, but since there was no prospect that anyone might try to force her to swim here, she was calmer than she might have been otherwise. She didn't hate the sound of the creek - oddly, she found it rather calming. It was a windy day, and the treetops danced a little, though they stood so close together that their lower branches were almost motionless. The children's footfalls were soft on the dark, spongy ground. She pushed ahead to get to the water first. Behind her, her brother sang-spoke her name. 

"Isssaaa."

"What?"

She'd turned to look at him, and he'd smiled a funny tight grin, and said nothing. She pressed to the edge of the creek and looked down at the rocks, hoping to see a fish.

"Want to go swimming?"

Malcolm was standing behind her, his hand resting lightly on her back.

"No. Don't be stupid."

"It could be fun. Like taking a cold bath."

"You know I don't like swimming."

"Time to get over that, maybe."

He'd given her a light little play-push, not enough to actually move her forward, but enough to make her gasp and grab onto him.

"NO. Stop it, Malcolm. I don't want to play."

He didn't step back. "I do. Come on, if you jump first, I'll follow."

She'd stared up into her brother's eyes, and for the first time felt real fear, rather than the adoration that she normally felt when looking at him. Tears welled up in her own eyes. She heard herself begging.

"Please, Malcolm, no. I don't want to. Please let me go."

His eyes had an odd, greedy quality flaring inside them, and she could see that the fight was over: no matter what she said, he was going to push her in.

Their mother's voice had snapped them both to attention. She was standing, hands on hips at the top of the hill, feet from the back door of the house. She peered at them through the trees, at such a distance that she couldn't have been sure of what was happening.

"It's lunch time, and I've been calling you both. What are you doing out here? You'd better not track in mud - Sabrina's just had the place re-carpeted."

Isa glanced back at her brother, relieved and aghast at his behaviour. Whatever had flared in his eyes before was gone, and he released her wordlessly. He looked puzzled, as though surprised by his own behaviour.