I woke up with my cheek pressed against warm sand and the sound of waves rumbling above my head. Warm wind blew through my hair.
My fingers dug into the gritty texture as I raised myself up and opened my eyes.
The sky was blue and for a second I believed I had somehow arrived back on Earth, but looking closer, I saw that the sky’s colour was because it was made of water. A vast inverted ocean stretched above my head, waves sparkling from the light that shone from where the horizon conjoined sand and water.
I scooped up a handful of sand and let it run through my fingers. There were fragments of petals mixed in with the white grains, giving it an iridescent shimmer. Occasionally a flower petal would drift down from the ocean above, carried by the gentle breeze.
There were no landmarks in sight, so I chose a direction at random and walked. The beat of the Lacuna was distant here, muffled by the ocean perhaps. Ever so faintly, I heard something else. A few trembling notes carried by the wind to my ears.
After a few minutes of walking, with the notes growing louder, I saw some shadows in the distance that wavered with the heat waves. They solidified, revealing themselves to be short and stout trees. The trees had holes in them like woodwind instruments. The wind passing through those holes produced a haunting tune that shifted a little each time I stopped paying attention to it.
A singsong voice added itself to the song, “There once was an evergreen seed that grew where the trees did sing. That seed grew roots in the graves of kin returned to dust. Never did they cry, never laughed with glee, so never did Rosemary.”
A Flower stepped out from behind one of the trees. Its head hung heavy, spilling out from the neck with many large white flowers that hung on green spiky stems, draping down over its body like a dress.
I wet my lips. “You’re Rosemary, I take it?”
Rosemary did a curtsy, then turned in a pirouette before tiptoeing away. I followed after them.
The Flower skipped along, making sure I was following and then began to sing again, “Once upon a time there lived a boy with a hole in his heart. Embarrassed and in pain, he tried to hide it. He helped, he fought, he was taught. He cried, he tried, he died. And then the boy was not a boy anymore. Was the hole still there?”
I rubbed my chest. “You know, I understood the textbooks and flower-pressing, but children’s fairytales? I’m not sure about this one. Why would this be important to Nell?”
Rosemary didn’t deign to answer.
There was something moving up ahead. A hazy mass of shimmering bodies. Long limbs waved like palm leaves in the wind, legs carved dizzying fractal patterns in the sand, shadows danced without bodies to cast them. It felt like a ritual how each individual moved chaotically and yet in unity with the others. Trying to isolate just one body was an effort in frustration and confusion. Their forms seemed to change positions every time I moved my head even slightly. It was a dance, yet I saw no returning pattern, no matching motions, it was beautiful and yet frightening and strange.
Rosemary turned to me, a hand of curled leaves emerging from the flower dress to point at the mirage.
“Is it a path if no one has traveled it before? Is it a trail if no fauna would dare tread through? Yet here it is, plain as day: a way.”
The eerie song and dance gave me goosebumps.
Keep doing what you’ve been doing. Always forward.
So I stepped towards the throng, waiting for a good moment when I thought I saw an opening to step in amongst the dancing shadows. I jerked back as a line in the sand dragged near me. Then ducked as a limb smeared the light ahead. A gap opened. I dashed towards it.
Then there was a buzzing sensation at my hip.
I fell into the sand.
Huh?
I tried to stand and found that I couldn’t. Something was off.
Looking down, I saw that my leg was no longer attached to me. It lay behind, amongst the petals and sand. A limb carved through the sand towards me and I was too slow in moving my arm away. I stared in horror as it too was severed without as much as a flicker of pain, only the strange buzzing vibration.
I collapsed, too weak to support myself. A mirage glided through the air, its limb on a path for my head. I couldn’t move, I could only watch as it grew closer and closer. Blood rumbled in my ears.
Then Rosemary whistled. The pungent scent of flowers flooded my nose and I found myself standing back beside Rosemary.
Bile rose in my throat. I gasped noisily, feeling for my arm.
There it was, like nothing had happened. It had been restored, along with my leg. My whole body started to shake with relief.
“Th-thanks.”
Rosemary shook loose petals off of themself and sang brightly, “I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it a thousand times. Boorish, banal, boring. I may as well wilt right now then suffer another poor showing.”
I sat down and steadied my nerves. Maybe it was time to stop and study the situation. The shadows didn’t grow tired of their eternal waltz. Surely there would be a point where I would see a repeat, a movement I’d seen before, something, anything to get a read of this. I don’t want to experience that again.
But even though I sat and stared for what felt like hours, I couldn’t decipher a single pattern from the tangle of shimmering dancers.
“Fine!” I exclaimed in exasperation. “No more waiting. I’ll try again.”
My heart beat quickly as I stepped into the dance. I tried unfocusing my eyes so that I could just see what was right in front of me. Only two steps in, my cheek was clipped. Then my arm was severed at the elbow as I tried to correct. Then a buzz at my neck.
Thud.
My vision went fuzzy as I stared up at the ocean above, unable to lift a finger.
Rosemary whistled and I was back. I immediately slumped down, clutching at my neck, feeling the rapid pulse at my fingertips.
“Again,” I said through gritted teeth.
This time I tried to muster my strength and speed to jump over the dancers. I leapt, sailing over their heads, but gravity pulled me mercilessly back down. I plummeted into the mirage, shearing my torso clean in half.
Rosemary whistled.
I stared at them, trying to divine if the Flower held some secret from me. Rosemary shifted on their feet and a withered stem fell from their dress. The layered skin of their leg peeked through the gap.
I realized what was happening to them.
“You’re losing flowers every time you reset me.”
“She loves me, she loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. Love is found in the pointless ripping of petals. How romantic. But I would rather you started back at the beginning.”
“Your riddles won’t do you much good if you shrivel up before I make it through.”
“If it was my idea, you would refuse. If it was your idea, you would choose.”
A frustrated noise escaped my lips and I turned away to try again.
I didn’t make it far before I tasted floral sand in my mouth.
Whistle.
A limb caught my head and for a moment the world lost all colour.
Whistle.
I took one step and immediately lost my foot.
Whistle.
“This isn’t working!” I shouted.
Rosemary sang with hands raised to the sky, “Try, try again. Or don’t. Give up. Join me in reverie. We can play until we drop.”
One of their fingers had fallen off. The dress was looking sparse. They spun in a circle of dead petals waiting to be crushed into the sand.
I stared at them. “Why are you hurting yourself for me? I never asked you to.”
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,” they sang and danced on pointed toes.
The waves crashed above us and droplets of water rained down. I opened my mouth and a single refreshing drop landed on my tongue. I tasted the warmth.
“Okay… Okay.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Even with everything we shared, there were still things we didn’t tell each other. Do you want to know something I never told Nell? Back in high school, I had nothing. I don’t mean that I was poor, my parents both had good, well-paying jobs. I wasn’t neglected.”
I leaned back, feeling the weight on my heart. “And yet nothing was for me. Everything was for other people, that’s how I felt. Success? Theirs. Relationships? That was for other people to experience, not me. To feel like I belonged? Not something I deserved.”
“I wanted just one thing I could call my own, something that was mine alone. And I loved to move, loved to find a rhythm and feel it guide my hands and feet. One day, I walked past a local dance studio. A class was inside, I could see them through the windows. And I was hit with the most intense longing of my life. But just like everything else, I couldn’t go in. I wouldn’t dare. I couldn’t show anyone this.”
I smiled wryly. “So I went to the back window that faced the forest. I hid behind the trees and I watched, drinking in every last detail, my cheeks flushed with shame. Then I would practice on my own, in the woods. I would come home with pine needles stuck in my feet and my mom would wonder what I was possibly getting up to. I didn’t tell her. And I kept going back, day after day.”
“Eventually, one day, I was found out by the owner of the dance studio. I hadn’t been as sneaky as I’d thought, people were reporting a creep. When the owner told me that, I felt like I was going to die. I was a creep. A monster. Even this, my one thing, was not for me and I was a freak for wanting it. But then the owner asked me if I wanted to come inside and clean my feet. They told me they had seen me dancing and they wanted me to know I could practice in the studio on my own if I wanted. And that, when I was ready, I could join the class.”
I squeezed sand into my palms.
“I’ve never… never shaken the feeling that I can’t even do this right. And now it’s been so long since I’ve tried. But…” I steeled myself, then relaxed, letting out a timid laugh.
“I’d like to try anyway?”
Rosemary flourished their hands.
I breathed in and let it all out. Then I matched Rosemary’s posture and set forth.
One, and two, and three, and pause! Five, six, seven- I faltered and a limb tore a hole in my abdomen.
Rosemary whistled.
“Again,” they said.
I tried again. With each step I focused just on myself, what I visualized in my head to be me. Every note, every motion was an affirmation, cautiously optimistic that it was okay to want this for myself.
Self-doubt was always there. And when I stumbled and lost my head, it was back to the beginning.
Whistle.
Rosemary’s dress was gone. I watched in horror as their arm detached from the shoulder, falling limply to the ground. Yet they said, “Again! Again!” with such enthusiasm that I had to keep trying.
Step, step, shuffle, turn, slide, step, arms out, too much!
Whistle.
Just enough this time. Just enough-
Whistle.
You’re thinking too much. Just be.
There was no whistle. This time, Rosemary only sang. Their voice grew quieter and softer. There was always a path forward. That path was me. I continued to dance, lost in the music.
Until my feet touched cool stone.
I hadn’t realized it, but somewhere in the revelry I had closed my eyes.
When I opened them, I found a pair of wide, sparkling eyes watching me dance.
I stopped, my tears blurring the sight of the person I’d wanted to see most.
“Nell?”