It was the cowboy, Indian summer of M’s ninth year and the sun shown especially hot over the still snow peaked heights. He pulled down a lever made of an old boot activating a system of water works, which connected a tiny stream to his fort nearby. Many in their town were gathering around the deep blue lake that plunged into the center of the mountains they called home. It’s time to leave, called M’s mother and he tumbled out of a pulley raised door on the far side of his sanctuary. The Stroud family was attempting to join in the festivities and packed a small picnic basket before setting out for the refresh of the water. The lake wasn’t more than four miles from their home and they arrived just as the sun parked overhead indicating it was noon and time for lunch. They tumbled off the rickety wagon, first Mrs Stroud followed by Mr Stroud and then their two children M Plodder Stroud and his sister N Stroud. Mr Stroud was a very efficient man and enjoyed calling the family by one letter names only, even though Mrs Stroud and M Plodder were sometimes confused by his insistence on calling both M. Today the confusion of names was to be remembered as the least of the problems facing M and by M…I mean the boy, Plodder. Furthermore, I shall refer to Plodder as M and Mrs Stroud as Mrs S so as to not confuse you as Mr S has so readily done to me in the past. M was glum for a time and he was happy for a time. In the end we will see if he is markedly happier than glum…

            M bounded down to the lakeshore feeling the prickling of the miniature hot pebbles under his feet. This beach consisted of the tiny smooth stones one might find on a riverbed instead of the sand most easily found near the ocean. Mrs S unfolded a large red blanket to set up the sandwiches she had packed earlier. M insisted on swimming before lunch and with the proper amount of jumping up and down with the sour look one might make when sucking on a lemon, persuaded Mr and Mrs S to allow him a quick splash before sitting down with the family. M’s stomach didn’t care much for this idea and let him know with a rumbling growl of disapproval. M ignored his stomach and decided to swim anyway because that is what he most wanted in the world at that particular time. It was at the very moment when M removed his shirt and went running for the water that the most incredible and terrible thing happened. A large mouth opened across M’s belly and began to audibly protest his decision to swim rather than eat. “I think you need to listen to me more closely when I have something to say to you,” said Belly. M wasn’t sure if he heard quite right and went dashing into the water anyway. When he emerged moments later the Belly was sputtering and spattering and he realized that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Belly spit out a small fresh fish and then replied to what his shocked body, M, was thinking, “I’ve always been able to talk. You’ve just been a pretty good sport…up until today, when I had something to say.” The families nearby happened to overhear the conversation going on and slowly gathered their children out of the water. “Sometimes when I talk you just hear the grumbling and groaning, but that’s because you listen before I’ve opened my mouth.” M continued to stare at his belly as if it had grown a mouth of its’ own…and it had. Once the families had gathered on their own picnic blankets they made a dash with their shoes for their wagons, carts, horses and cycles and with a roar and a kicking of stone they were gone leaving the Strouds alone on the beach. M just stared and stared, to ashamed to talk back. His mother finally reached for his shirt, put this on, she hissed. “You can’t just cover me up M,” said Belly, but he was ignored by M and the rest of his family for the rest of the day. The ride home was spent mostly in silence, with the exception of Belly’s unwanted and intruding comments. M’s mother spoke up with tears in her voice. We’ll go to a doctor tomorrow, they will make everything better...Dr Rumbridge will know what to do. Dear, isn’t he an ear nose and throat doctor Mr S said? Well, all those things are connected to the mouth and that’s exactly what our little problem here is isn’t it!? I would seriously question whether I’m a problem ma’am said Belly. Alright dear, he said, ignoring the talking thing…we’ll take him in the morning.

            All night M stared at the glowing stars through the window wondering what the doctor would do. Would there be anything he could do? He imagined them sewing his mouth shut, his belly mouth that is. Would it struggle? Would it try and bite the doctor’s fingers? Would they be so horrified that they would turn him away, or send him to be examined by linguists around the world? He simply did not know and was left to think about these things alone until the sun rose above the mountains and the mist burned off the nearby lake.

            His mother poked her head in the door as if she half expected to see a multitude of extra limbs growing from the boy, let me rest you assured, she was thankful she did not. An extra mouth was a bit of a hassle, but at least you could easily cover it up. She thought of it as a bad haircut, nothing a little trim couldn’t cure and in the meantime, a hat would suffice.

            At the breakfast table M ate bacon and eggs, finally conceding to give Belly a waffle after so much, excuse the phrase, bellyaching from the unwanted intruder. When the lot was full they piled onto the family wagon and headed around the lake, through town to the nearest hospital. After several hours sitting in the waiting room M’s name was called from a list and he disappeared through the white door that lead to his unknown future. Once inside he had to wait again with the company of his father and dozens of oddly shaped and menacing looking instruments. After what seemed like hours and I’m sure, was only minutes a bumbly fellow full of gusto and not a few spiced pies, for it was near the time of year when one can enjoy the taste of pie on a daily and guilt free basis, entered the examination room. Dr Merrywether was printed clearly on his nametag. It was evident by his rotund frame and glimmering chocolate eyes that the name suited him like a tailored vest. He shook hands vigorously with M’s father and sat down on a rolling chair that looked as if it might give way at any moment. Now, what seems to be the problem? M didn’t feel like responding so he sat quietly looking at the floor. Not too talkative are you, said Merrywether. Not a problem let’s give you the once over just to make sure we’re in tip top shape. If you could take off your shirt for me I’ll have myself a listen. He held up the stethoscope that hung around his neck. M looked at his father terrified by the thought of the second mouth on his belly. His father gave him a reassuring nod and M pulled the shirt over his head. I’ll be…said the doctor, wouldn’t want to arm wrestle you! Looks like you’ve been doing some weight lifting. M was pleasantly surprised to find his belly looking as it had the week before with the button exactly as it had been the previous morning. The doctor listened closely with the cold round disc pressed against M’s back. Everything sounds great! You might be the healthiest young man I’ve seen all month. Let’s do one final test. Merrywether retrieved a Popsicle grasping stick from a glass holder and turned on his little head lamp. Alright, stick out your tongue and say ahhh. As the doctor rolled a little closer M’s worst fear came true. His belly mouth opened the very same time his real mouth opened so as to present Merrywether with two mouths and two tongues both of which said ahhhhhhh.  As if dropped into the Bearing Sea in the middle of the night Merrywether began to stammer and stutter all the while his eyes frozen on the talking belly sitting before him. I…I’ve…I…don’t think…you’ll have to excuse…I’ll be right back. The doctor just rolled right out the examination room door and down the hall his head lamp still on. I’m a freak, M said. Hey, that’s no way to talk, said his father. If there’s nothing we can do about this it will still be alright. I’ll always love you, understand? M nodded his head. His father didn’t speak encouraging words often because they were unnecessary he thought for pure communication. M felt better only for a moment. That’s right, we’re in this together, said Belly. That’s quite enough out of you said Mr Stroud.

            Moments later a different doctor ushered them out of the hospital. Dr Merrywether wanted me to assure you that everything is alright and he’s going to look into this situation thoroughly. He’d be here himself but there was an emergency…he then whispered, young girl with a piece of glass stuck up her nose. You all take care, said the doctor. Glass…! Who would have thought, said belly, M’s shirt began wriggling from all the talking beneath. Shhh said Mrs Stroud and started dragging M toward the car as the doctor looked on craning his neck for a better view. Thanks again, said Mr M as he ran to catch up, Belly’s voice carrying over the parking lot. If I was that doctor I’d leave it in… it would teach a valuable lesson, you just can’t stick anything up there!

            That night as M was again laying in his bed staring out the window at the full moon trying to fall asleep the faint voices of his parents could be heard from the living room below. You heard the doctor Mary, they’re going to look into it. There’s nothing we can do but wait. How do we just wait, asked Mrs S? What if that thing starts up while he’s in class, or…during church? He’d be branded instantly. They’d say we’ve gone insane! It doesn’t matter how much we support him if he can’t show his face in public.  At that moment the sounds of M’s sister could be heard crying in the next room. It was a soft, hidden cry. The conversation stopped and Mr S climbed the stairs. What’s the matter darling? The words slid across the night breeze through the walls and into M’s ears. I had a nightmare, said little N Stroud. It’s not real, said his father, it was just a dream. It is real, said N…It was M’s tummy come to get me and she started to cry softly once again. This hurt M’s heart more than the staring of the other kids at the lake, more than the doctor’s shocked look and more than anything his parents could say because he loved his little sister more than anyone in the whole world. M jumped out of bed snatching his backpack off the bedpost. Into the pack he bundled some extra clothes and a warm jacket. Putting on his most sturdy shoes he slid open his bedroom window, which looked out over the dark forest and the mountain lake beyond.  Beneath him was a bed of soft green grass and he dangled by his fingertips for a moment from the sill before letting go and landing with a thud. Mr and Mrs S heard the sound and came running toward M’s room just as he disappeared into the edge of the wood. Seeing the open window, his parents gave a start and rushed to the opening. With the curtains flapping about them in the cool air and little N Stroud wriggling in between them for a better look, Mrs S started to cry.

            M ran as long as his legs would carry him and then sat down to rest. The night was colder than he remembered and he put on the jacket he had thankfully packed. With the dark surrounding him and the cold still creeping in M decided to build a fire to scare away both. After gathering some wood he set about bringing the fire to life. His backpack didn’t contain the necessary matches or flint needed to set the blaze so he attacked it in a different fashion. You should rub two sticks together, said Belly. That’s what I plan to do, retorted M…No thanks to you! I didn’t force you to leave so don’t blame this on me, said Belly, he continued, there are some nice straight sticks over there. M cut him off, so now you can see too can you? I see what you see, said Belly. Just get moving, it’s cold out here. M couldn’t disagree this time so he took two sticks and began rubbing them together. This rarely works in the manner intended and this time was no different. That night was a cold and lonely first night in the forest. He managed to stave off the deep pains of hunger with the meager leftovers his mother had packed into his bag for lunch the day he left, along with two bags of candy that he was saving for just the right time. With the help of a glass lid from a peach jar he figured out how to bend the light enough to burn the leaves.

            On the fourth night in the forest the embers had burned low and it was time to gather more firewood. The area around his makeshift camp was getting sparse so he ventured farther from the circle of dimming light. He picked up several small branches and one larger curved piece he thought would burn longer and brighter giving him the opportunity to gather more. Upon his return and just before throwing the handful of wood onto the fire the curved branch did something most unusual. I’d rather you not throw me in there, ‘tis quite hot you know, said the Branch. M promptly dropped the branch into the fire and backed away quickly. There was a loud shout as the Branch hit the fire. Ouch, for Pete’s moss sake, get me out of here, exclaimed the branch! M didn’t really know what to do, but for the sake of saving a…talking thing he reached into the flames and tossed the stick out. A few leaves had been slightly singed by the seconds amidst the blaze. None too worse for wear I suppose said the Branch. M had just begun recovering from the shock of his talking mid section and now this! Excuse me Mr…um, my name’s, well you can call me M. Nice to meet you said the Branch. M now noticed the branch had two very twig like arms with which he righted himself and hopped over. The name’s Birch, after the tree of course. Nice to meet you Birch and they shook hands. How come you’re all the way out here M, said Birch. It’s because of me, said Belly from under the jacket. The sound was a little muffled do to the extra padding. Come again said Birch; it sounded as if you’re middle had something to say. It did, said M. He lifted up his shirt and promptly his Belly said again...It’s because of me he left home. And who might you be, asked Birch? I’m Belly of course. Well, how’d you end up in the middle of the forest…I do suppose you are a tree branch, said Belly. I grew up in town, there by the lake, replied Birch. My tree grew right beside the Anderson’s home. I used to talk to their little girl from outside the window. Mr and Mrs Anderson would come running into the room asking, what are you doing Lily, who are you talking to? They would slam the window shut looking out suspiciously. If I closed my eyes tight they could never find me. One day I was being careless by singing a song Lily had taught me and when I looked into her room, to my dismay, I saw Mrs Anderson staring at me with a feather duster and vase. She dropped the vase and ran screaming for Mr Anderson. I was cut down the next morning and thrown into the trash. Lucky for me the garbage trolley didn’t have a top and I managed to jump out near the forest. I’ve been living here ever since, well let me see, that must have been four years ago now, give or take.

Well, it’s nice to meet you but I’m getting a bit hungry, said M. What do you eat Birch. Well, I don’t need much. A little fresh water and some sunshine keep me healthy. Not me said M. I’m going to need some food. The next morning the hunt began for something to eat. After trying some berries that Birch thought might be tasty and attempting unsuccessfully to catch a fish with a string he had in his pack M sat on the bank of the stream glumly. Birch sat next to him thinking as a rabbit bounded from under a bush and disappeared into the forest. That rabbit would taste pretty good right about now said Belly. Well do you have an idea how we can catch it, said Birch? Not at the moment, said Belly. Then keep shut! Let’s not fight, said M that’s not going to get us anywhere.  M looked over at Birch’s curved shape and then back at his string. What I need is a good bow and arrow, said M. Well where are you going to get those, said Birch? Moments later M had Birch all strung up with a couple test arrows ready to fire. I don’t know if this is a good idea, said Birch. Suppose you were to bend me too far and I break? You’ll just have to let me know if I’m hurting you, said M. After setting a large pinecone on a log M pulled an arrow onto the string and tugged back gently. I’m not hurting you, am I? Birch’s face distorted slightly as he was stretched backwards. Not yet, he said. M pulled back just a bit further and let the arrow fly. It soared by the pinecone and landed in the bushes far beyond. It was a good attempt anyway, said Belly. M turned and picked up another arrow from his little pile. It missed in just the same direction as the first. Again and again he shot and collected the arrows and again and again he missed. After what seemed like the hundredth shot Birch came up with a suggestion. Maybe I can help, he said. How are you going to do that, said M. Like this…He opened his mouth wider and this time M could see all the way through the branch. Ut da arro ru ere, mumbled Birch. What…asked M? Put the arrow through here, Birch said normally and opened his mouth even wider. Alright, said M, but I don’t see how that’s going to help. M put the arrow through Birch’s mouth and together they aimed the arrow at the cone. From the front it looked as if Birch was ready to spit the arrow. When M released the string, the arrow whistled through the air and struck the pinecone square in the middle knocking it from the log. They all cheered and M ran to pick up the cone.

Just a few hours later M emerged from the woods into their makeshift camp with several rabbits tossed over his shoulder. That night there were rabbits roasting over the fire and M knew he would be alright no matter how long he needed to live in the forest. He also realized he would need a few things if he was going to stay the winter. When the snow falls I’ll need proper boots and a hat and gloves I think, said M. Where do you propose to get them, asked Birch? M looked at the rabbit skin tacked to a tree nearby saying, with your and Belly’s help.

The next week M set an empty milk bottle on the ground that had a little sign propped against it. He stepped back and looked out at the dirty kids his own age he had found in the town over the hill. The sign read, Ventrillokwist show every 10 min…Well get on wit it, demanded a young boy, several others nodding in approval. M scanned the faces in the meager gathering and assumed this would have to do. He held up in one hand a puppet he had fashioned from the rabbit skin and in the other he held Birch looking to all like any common stick you might find in the forest, for M had removed the arrow propelling string. M took a deep breath sealed his lips and then began speaking with the rabbit. There was an audible gasp from the young crowd as the rabbit voice seemed to come out of thin air.

Later, M emerged from a larger crowd of people, the milk bottle in his hands full of coins. Tell us how it works, shouted a boy no more than sixteen. Yes, do tell, added a pretty young woman wearing a white dress. You’ll have to come by tomorrow and see the show again, said M smiling. He then disappeared down a little alley with the crowd voicing their disapproval behind him.

We hear the crunching of fallen snow before we see the new winter boots. The soft fur of a warm, slightly large hat is poking out around his ears. In one scarletly gloved hand he holds Birch firmly in place and in the other a small tin box with an M printed on the front. He looks up at a large clock whose hands point to heaven and sets down the box. On the front there is an ornate design that includes Birch a rather large rabbit and M. There is already a little gathering in front of him. He ceremoniously pulls a rabbit puppet out of his jacket and commences to grasp Birch with all the pomp and circumstance one might hold a magic wand whose purpose is present. He holds out his friends in opposite directions and nods to a dirty faced boy of about six years old. The little boy walks up and as M kneels he wraps a bandana around M’s head placing it securely over M’s mouth and fastens a knot to keep it in place. M stands again and closes his eyes for a moment. The crowd waits. Their breath rises through the cold air disappearing in the sun. Suddenly Birch barks out without opening his eyes, well…on with the show rabbit...My name is Claude…thank you very much, replies Belly who is providing the voice for the rabbit. Tell me Mr Branch, why are you here talking to a lowly rabbit if you could be chattering with the whole of the forest. Birch stays silent for a moment and then says…because I’m different. The trees gossip all day and speak of only the water and the weather and what is happening near the towns. Each time there is a fire or trees are cleared to build a new house it’s the only thing you hear as the leaves rustle and the trunks sway. Birch drifts off into his story…Each year the houses came nearer and the trees talked less. Soon there was a house close enough to see the family inside when they moved in. The Rabbit began speaking immediately. Oh get on already, what brings you here? Alright, if you insist, said Birch. I began trying to talk to the house one day. I assumed that since at one time the house was standing in a forest just like me it might have something to say. The other trees warned me not to talk so near the house, but I ignored them. Finally after several days of trying there came a multiple of voices clamoring to be heard. This surprised me thoroughly, but the reason became quite clear. Due to the multiplicity of sources for the boards and beams in each house there is a huge number of minds that must confer and agree on which words they will speak, because it’s quite well known that all trees speak, thus all planks, timbers and splinters also speak. Naturally the family heard the responses and demanded to know who the house was speaking to. Once I was found out I was sawed off at the base and tossed in the garbage, in an effort to silence the now unbearably chatty home. You were warned, said Rabbit. I was warned indeed, replied Birch.

The crowd clapped and hooted at the conclusion of the show, dispersing to accomplish their day’s activities, all but one. The little girl who remained fixated on the branch long after he had fallen silent stood near the corner of the gathering never moving, never saying a word. That is, until M went to gather his earnings and leave for the forest. I know him, said the little girl, pointing at Birch. You aren’t a ventriloquist at all are you? That is the branch that talked to me many nights outside my window. With this, Birch opened one eye cautiously to see who was speaking. When he saw her face he opened both eyes and began speaking uncontrollably fast. Is that you Lily? It is! Oh I dreamed of the day we would meet again and be able to continue our conversations. How did you come over the hill to be with us today? Is your dreadful family, I do mean they are quite nice, aside from the time they cut me down, oh I don’t mean to speak ill of them at all…Shhhh, said M. Somebody is likely to see you jabbering away and it would ruin the whole show. Lily walked up and bent down to get a closer look and then hugged the branch with all the strength she could muster. How good it is to see you again! We can’t talk here, said M and gathered Birch the box, now full of coins and Rabbit. M walked into the nearest ally, where they could talk without being overheard by any stranger who might walk past. You’re the boy who went missing last summer aren’t you, asked Lily? I don’t know what you’re talking about said M. Certainly you must be? They say that your belly has a mouth of its’ own, might I see? She reached for his shirt and had just gotten hold of the hem when M jumped back. I beg your pardon, said M. You must have me mistaken with someone else. I’m not going to tell anyone, said Lily. I kept Birch’s secret until they found out quite by accident. There was nothing I could do…I believe you, said Birch and he smiled a toothless smile that allowed you to see all the way through. You’re parents are dreadfully worried…about you. At this, M looked up and then turned away. Lily continued while M remained sullenly looking at anything but her. They put up papers and there were daily hunts into the mountains. I don’t believe anyone thought you would have come over the hill. I heard you were carried off by the wolves, or a bear…I don’t remember which. Eventually they just stopped looking. Did they have a funeral, asked M without thinking…Lily grabbed the rabbit from M and tried it on moving the mouth up and down for a moment before its’ head leaned over to one side. No, she said. Everyone says that your mother wouldn’t let it happen…but nobody really thought you would be coming back. After looking at the rabbit again Lily stopped and said, oh you must come home and see your family…at least to see how much they miss you. I’m not going back, said M. They’re better off without me there, besides, Birch and I don’t need a family. We have each other. That’s right, said Belly…Lily jumped back and said. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was true. It sounded ridiculous. I heard that's the reason you first ran away. I’m as ridiculous as Birch here and you don’t doubt him do you, said Belly? I’m sorry, said Lily, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that you don’t speak to a speaking Belly everyday. Apology accepted, said Belly. So when do we leave for Home, he added. I’m telling everyone we’re not going Home, said M. I’ll tell, whispered Lily. Excuse me, said M. I said I’ll tell everyone I know where you are and what you’re doing, she said. I’m sure they’ll know soon enough anyway with your little crowds that gather. We’ll move and we’ll keep moving, said M. You won’t be able to hide she said. I’ll tell everyone your routine and they’ll come looking in every town for a hundred miles. Then we’ll go two hundred. Please, said Lily, oh please just come and see them. You can stay outside and look through the window. You’ll see how much they miss you. I’ll tell my mother you’re from the boarding school and you couldn’t leave for Holiday. She’ll let you all stay with us for the night and it will be warm and there are plenty of rooms and beds for everyone. This did sound very tempting. Sleeping on the ground, even in a dry tent with a fire outside can be quite lonely when the sounds of the night are creeping all about. How long had it been since he'd slept on a warm feather bed? He couldn't seem to remember, his mind was blurred. Come to think of it, he first learned how to hunt rabbit with Birch just before the snow first started to fall last year. Just for the night, pleaded Birch. M couldn't resist the temptation to feel at home anymore. Alright, for the night, said M to the group.

M's feet dangled behind the wagon as they bumped along the ice covered road toward the other side of the hill and the middle of the mountain. Where did you come from M, asked Lily's father as he clicked the reins hustling the two oak carved horses along. I'm from a little town about eight hours south of the mountain, by train. My father has been forced to care for my mother during the Holiday. M felt guilty, but needed to secure a reliable story and hoped the questions of his hometown would cease, as he had never really traveled anywhere but the mountain and he feared his fanciful story might dissuade the man’s believing mind. He was going to spend the entire Holiday at the boarding school, said Lily. Well, said her father, we're always glad to open our doors. The silence on the journey over the mountain was broken by the sounds of falling snow and the scurry of animals darting into the underbrush, out of the wagon's way. When the party entered M's town he sat a little lower and avoided eye contact with anyone who might look his direction. He feared someone would recognize him, sending him immediately back to live with his parents, who would probably be horrified to see their monster of a son, even though he had been informed of the contrary. Upon rounding a wooded bend on the far side of the lake where M first discovered his talking belly Lily's father turned to the group sitting in the back of the wagon and said, home at last. M looked down the long driveway lined with trees. At the end of the drive near a lone Birch from which his friend had been cut stood a large house built out of the speckled stones of the mountain and the tall trees that surrounded them. A log had been set aflame in the fireplace and the playful light slipped out the windows onto the white snow, parading shadows through the yard, welcoming them home.

The group helped carry in the boxes and bags Lily's father had purchased in town. We'll be in my room, called Lily, and they ran upstairs to the bedroom where Lily had talked to Birch for the first time, such a long time ago. She opened up the window and set Birch gently across the branches that had grown very close to her window over the years. We would have been able to whisper had the tree been this close when we first met, said Birch. Who knows, maybe they wouldn't have found us, said Lily, and they both looked to the branch from which Birch had been cut. Lily, it's time for dinner, called her mother from the bottom of the stairs. We'll be right down, replied Lily. You can stay here Birch, if that's alright, she said...Come on M. The two headed downstairs toward the first family dinner M had seen since before he ran into the dark. M grabbed Lily's arm when they reached the bottom of the stairs. I don't want to go, he said. I need to go back. There's nothing to be scared of, she said and put his hand in hers. What's my name, he said... I can't say M. I'll say your Van...you're the ventriloquist who ran, said Lily smiling. That's dumb, said M. Fine, she said, you can introduce yourself.

They entered the dining room, Lily guiding the way and M looking as he had when he’d first discovered Belly. His face was a shade of green to match the beans beside the chicken. M pulled out a chair next to Lily and across from her little brother. Lily, would you like to introduce your friend, said her father. She looked at M, lips closed and eyebrows raised. M looked at the family and finally conceded. My name is Van. I go to the boarding school on the other side of the mountain. He couldn't go home for the Holidays so Lily invited him to join ours, said her father. Well, Richard and I are glad you're here, said her mother. She's always talking to things she shouldn't be, said her little brother. The toe of Lily's shoe connected with his shin swiftly and he let out a howl of pain.

After dinner M helped Lily and her little brother clear the dishes from the table. I think I've seen you before Van, said Lily's little brother. You haven't seen anything you little prat said Lily taking a swipe at him with a dish towel. Mom, cried Peter, Lily called me a prat and he went running out of the kitchen. When do you want to go see your family, asked Lily? M started scrubbing an already clean platter. I don't think I should go. They're scared of me. We are fine they way we are, said Belly. We're going after dinner, said Lily. They’re not scared and they don't want you to change. They will, said M.

When the dishes had been put away and the rest of the family had gone to bed Lily swiftly crept over to M's room and pushed the door open gently so it wouldn't creak. M, are you awake? She tip toed across the room on the edges of the floor boards careful not to make too much noise. M pretended to be asleep when she whispered again. M...it's time to go. She shook him until he was forced to give up the act. I don't want to, said M. You're going and she pulled him by his foot right out of the bed and onto the floor. Lily's father looked up from the book he had been falling asleep to. What was that, he said? Snow falling off the roof came the reply and he went back to reading. You're going to get us caught, said M. No, you will, if you don't hurry up. I'll make so much noise everyone will assume a burglar has broken in. M was already pulling his over-pants and jacket on knowing she wouldn't stop bothering him until he went along. M opened the window and retrieved Birch, still strung up like a bow and the quiver he carried in case a wayward rabbit happened to cross his path. Let's go, said Belly. Can't I stay, asked Birch. If I have to go, said Belly, so do you. Alright, he said, as they exited the silent room, crept past the glowing embers in the fire and headed towards the barn.

Lily slipped a bridal onto the head of her horse Panda. There there Panda, she said to the shadowy animal who was most perturbed for being awoken just as he had settled in for the evening. Why do you call him Panda? Because, said Lily, he has this white marking around his eye and when I was a baby I was convinced he was a panda bear. I would just sit and point and say panda over and over. Isn't that right Panda and she stroked his mane several times. Panda had warmed up to the idea of a late night run and his ears started pointing this way and that in anticipation. He looked at M in a quizzical manner. I'm sorry, said Lily, how rude of me. Panda, this is M. M this is Panda. Nice to meet you, Mr Panda. The horse let out a lippy breathe. He's not too excited about carrying the both of us, but we aren't that heavy combined. He can carry father so we should be just fine. They climbed onto a stack of hay bails and one at a time, Lily in the front, they clambered onto the bear back Panda.

The moon was full that night as they rode towards M's home. The steel blue glow covered the mountains and you could barely make out the lights shining from the city over the hill. The stars reflected off the lake as they rode past and Panda's hooves shattered the thin layer of ice covering the snow and the silence. M's grip tightened as they approached the familiar woods surrounding his home. Your crushing me, gasped Lily. Sorry, he said. I haven't been here in so long. Everything looks the same. There's only one thing missing, said Lily. They rode past a sleigh laden with coal and firewood heading the opposite direction. A group of older boys threw snowballs at each other across barricades a few houses down from M's. He turned his head away so they wouldn't recognize him. When the horse was within a hundred feet of M's house he said, stop. I want to walk from here. They dismounted and Lily tied the horse to a small tree. Panda blew at the snow around his hooves and pulled at a small leaf that managed to be attached even after winter had come. M left Birch leaning near the tree against the snow and continued toward his home. Lily grabbed his hand and they walked in silence to the edge of the driveway. The fire was dying to glowing coals and M's father put one last log on for the night. His mother was sitting facing the big window that looked out onto the front yard and his father joined her. Attached to a post near the end of the driveway was a long weathered sign imploring anyone who had seen a boy his height, his weight and with his bright green eyes, to inform them immediately as he was dearly loved and missed.

Birch lay motionless looking up at the stars waiting for M and Lily to return. Secretly he hoped that he would never have to go back to the forest and the cold, long lonely nights. He looked over at Panda who dismissed him as just another stick. Well, you sure have it all going for you, don't you Mr Panda? The horse looked up with a start. Even he knew it was strange. I go way back…to before your time at the house, did you know that, Birch said? The horse’s ears turned away as the sounds of laughing bounced across the frozen ground. The group of boys they had passed were coming up the street, an adventure under the fool moon. Their shadows were cast over Birch as he lay looking up. They passed one at a time. The last boy looked down curiously at the small bow and quiver.

You stay here. I'm going up for a better look, said M, his curiosity creeping up like the sun after a long darkness. He reached the large window and the light covered his face like a blanket. Forgetting his mission was a secret one he pressed his nose against the glass, the slumbering hope inside drawing him in. When his nose made contact and his face was lit his mother looked out from the place she sat and dropped her cup of tea to the rug on the floor. M...she whispered. Then again she said M!! and threw back the blanket she was under, jumping for the front door. M panicked and started running for the end of the driveway.

The boys had reached the place where Lily was standing and the boy holding Birch said, hey little girl, is this your toy? That's not a toy; give it back, said Lily. Whoa, we just want to see how well it works, isn't that right guys?  Lily stepped back because the boy had pulled out an arrow and placed it in the bow. Birch had a terrified look in his eyes, which the boys failed to see. When Birch saw the fright in Lily's face his terror turned to anger and he said quite properly. I'm no toy you nitwits. The boys, startled now at the talking bow continued to make fun of Lily. Your toy is pretty impressive said the boy who seemed to command the respect of the others. Is the arrow as sharp as the bow's tongue I wonder and he bent the arrow into Birch? Not realizing the correct manner to aim the arrow the boy released his finger and the arrow cut through the moment leaving only the bleeding breathe of those standing watching to lift time away. Lily gasped for air searching for her wound. Relieved at finding none she looked at Birch. M...he said. The arrow had veered off course striking M in the throat as he ran away from his home for the second time. His mother caught him in her arms as he fell to the ground. The stars went out one by one and the night flooded over him in a washing wave.

The stars overhead were replaced by the strange reflection of a metal ceiling and the snow white sheets that covered him from head to toe. Where am I, he thought and the words seemed to emanate from his middle. Your at the hospital, came the reply. M looked over at the doctor. Did I meet you once, said M? Yes, once...after Merrywether ran away last time you came in. You’re always an exciting patient, he said with a smile. Where is my family, asked M? They're right outside, said the doctor. I need to tell you something, he said. He looked down and made a small adjustment to the bandage around M's neck. What is it, M thought and again his voice projected from beneath the sheets. The arrow pierced your vocal chords and to save your life we had to patch you up as best we could. What this means is…you most likely won't be able to speak again...I'm speaking right now, said M. The doctor showed M a mirror and he could see that his mouth had been bandaged shut. You're going to get better, but I don't believe you will ever speak again…like before. Can I let your family see you? M looked down and said, can I be alone before they come in? Sure, Dr Leverson said and shut the door behind him. When the doctor was gone M ran his fingers over the tape covering his lips and picked up the small mirror that sat on his bed stand. He put the mirror down and lifted the sheets that draped to the floor. His memories from the day at the beach projected across the room spilling onto the sheets and the floor, but the day he found Birch and their shows together and meeting Lily shut them off and forced them out. Looking down at his belly again he saw a large smile. There was a knock on the door and he said with his new voice, come in. He first saw Lily and Birch followed by the rest of his family. N pushed her way through and stood looking at M as Lily held his hand. N’s little steps carried her to the bed and she hugged him for a very long time. He never did speak like he used to again, but...he didn't mind.