around a crying baby’s throat.
I’ve slowed my heartbeat to three beats a minute. I’ve redrawn the clouds into birds, a fox chasing them into the mountains.
I’m going to move my hand today.
I vomit ice cubes.
There’s a ghost next to me.
Get up, Dad.
FEBRUARY WATCHES THE SNOW FALL.
He thinks about the senseless deaths of Selah and Bianca and the ongoing war against him. He creates ten different shades of gray in the sky and then starts over again. The girl who smells of honey and smoke calls for him to come inside. He thinks, She has a light in her throat when she speaks. She has strings of light draped inside her body.
There’s a terrible war against me, he says over his shoulder.
I know, she says. You can stop it anytime you want.
The girl who smells of honey and smoke can’t hear him cry but can see the curled shoulders. She can see his black shake.
Sculptor
Bianca’s ghost appears in town. She wears red shorts and a white blouse and has long black hair. I watch her buy mint leaves and talk to shop owners about how soon until we will only experience summer. She walks through the streets passing out tulips whose petals have veins that spell out the word July. A bar-keep tells everyone that Bianca’s ghost has a War Plan involving the town children who have been kidnapped by February. An apprentice of mine says that when Bianca cupped her hands together it showed an entire sky of kites.
Thaddeus hadn’t spoken in a week. But when Bianca’s ghost whispered in his ear, he stood up. He pointed at the sky. He went to his home, where Caldor Clemens had taken over the War Effort. Bianca’s ghost disappeared into the woods.
Since Thaddeus’s solitude it’s never been so cold or dark in the town. My owl statues became brittle with frost and cracked and crumbled to dust, and I’m lucky I haven’t any children left to feed. That’s a horrible thing to say, but it’s true.
OWL STATUES — HALF PRICE.
Caldor Clemens gave a shirtless speech under the two holes in the sky. The War Effort sat in a circle around Clemens, who pumped his fists and spit into snowbanks.
Thaddeus came up the hill carrying a scythe over his shoulder. He swung it across the snow tops, causing the War Effort to cheer and Clemens to tilt his head back and shout insults at the sky.
I’d like to add something, said Thaddeus, who moved into the center of the group and, in a gesture of respect to Clemens, took off his shirt.
As the snow fell on his skin, Thaddeus thought it didn’t feel like snow. He prepared his mind to feel snow on skin. But that isn’t what he felt, because the snow was torn parchment with letters scribbled in lead. In a fury Thaddeus collected the pieces of parchment from his shoulders and arms and every scrap from the hairy back of Clemens. The War Effort helped, too. They crawled on their hands and knees and gathered the parchment into a small pile.
Thaddeus and the Professor spent the next week deciphering the fallen parchment. They sat at a wooden table in Thaddeus’s kitchen where they could move the letters around. They took turns wearing the light box. War members brought them mint tea and tended to the fire.
There were over two hundred pieces of torn parchment. The Professor smacked the side of the light box, and the light flickered inside as they shuffled the letters.
What about this, said Thaddeus, and he moved the letters into a long row that stretched the length of the table.
FIND FEBRUARY AT THE EDGE OF THE TOWN
But it could be wrong, said the Professor. Look.
See all the fruit, said Thaddeus.
Fruit, asked the Professor.
Yes, fruit, Thaddeus said, and spelled out more names of fruit grown during warm months.
The Professor continued moving the letters around. AT THE EDGE OF THE TOWN appeared dozens of times.
And then the Professor began moving the pieces again and came up with something entirely different. He handed the light box to Thaddeus. He rubbed his face. Thaddeus said that AT THE EDGE OF THE TOWN was where he should go. He told the Professor about the scroll of parchment left on the tree where three children once sat twisting the heads of owls. He told him about the tracks in the snow leading from the oak tree, the concentric circles, the animal prints, the human prints that might lead to February.
Very well, then, said the Professor. At the edge of the town.
If not, we’ll go back to moving the parchment, and we’ll find another answer, said Thaddeus.
Very well indeed, said the Professor. He put the light box back on.
List Found in February’s Cottage Detailing Possible Cures for February
1. Valerian root and vitamin C tablets taken in the dark.
2. Yoga and meditation.
3. The melting of snow in children’s palms.
4. Light boxes?
5. Hot bath taken with mint extract.
6. Touching the moon in places the moon doesn’t know exist.
7. Consumption of St. John’s wort.
8. Feeding the garden inside.
9. Giving Bianca back.
10. Twisting your fears into desires.
11. Mood diary.
12. Hydrating the body.
13. Paying attention to the girl who smells of honey and smoke.
Thaddeus tied a wool scarf around his neck, looked at the picture the old man had given him of Selah and left home. Tree branches bowed with snow, their tips tied to the ground by invisible ropes. Thaddeus imagined standing behind February, running his knife in a half moon from ear to ear. He saw the blood wash the ropes away and the snow shake from the tress and the sky click to blue.
