The Hole in the Dandelion Tree

June 13, 1991 “Come on, Ellie! You've gotta learn to walk eventually. I can't just carry you around the whole rest of your entire life!” She was getting real heavy, and even though I was getting stronger, I wanted her to grow big and strong, too, like me. I set her down in the grass, her wrinkly trunk drooping while she pouted. “Oh come on! You can do it! Just run, run like me!” I runned and twirled all through the field, stirring up the white dandelion fairies and letting them dance around my feet as I laughed and danced. “See, Ellie? It's easy!” I watched her trunk perk up a little bit, her feet kick at the dandelions just a little. “That's the ticket! Yeah!” Mr. Hopper bounced around at Ellie's feet, his long ears dancing with the sway of the long grass that tickled my ankles. Ellie was just a baby, and all of our friends were excited that she was growing so big and strong. “Why, you're the best dancer in the whole field!” said Mr. Hopper. “No I'm not! Not as good as Tommy!” “Well, that's just because I'm more nimble!” The alley cat purred, licking his feet. “All cats are! But you've got your own special talents, Ellie!” Ellie's trunk perked even higher. “Really? Like what?” “Weellll...” I said, picking a bouquet of dandelions, which was a hard job because as soon as you went to grab another flower, the one before it had already floated away, “Like being the nicest kindest funniest elephant in the whole world!” I stuck my little dandelions behind her floppy ear, and she giggled. “The nicest!” sang Mr. Hopper. “And the kindest and funniest!” said Tommy. I pulled them all into me, even though they were getting big. I buried my head in Tommy's soft calico fur, nuzzling Mr. Hopper under my chin, and laughing at the tickle of Ellie's trunk wrapping us all up. And it was very lovely, today in the big green field with dandelions and our tree so close by we could collapse into its shade as soon as the sun got even the slightest bit too hot. I wish that every day of every lifetime were as sweet as this one. So as the sun started to go down we climbed up to the biggest branch of our tree, where we could all fit perfectly, and probably still would even when we all got really big. That's how big our tree was. It was like a castle, only better. It was my favorite place in the whole world and I never ever wanted to climb down. “Do you promise this will be the best summer, Adam?” Ellie said quietly, while I wrote in my notebook and Tommy and Mr. Hopper slept at our feet. “The best summer ever. Promise.” “And we'll get to play everyday, right? Because you don't have to go to school?” “Right,” I told her. “Not until fall.” “When the leaves change?” “When the leaves change.” “Oh.” She said, swinging her trunk gently beneath the rustle of the branches. “I hope the leaves never change.” “Who ya talkin' to up there?” I dropped my pencil. A girl I'd never seen before was looking up at us through the leaves. “Who are you?!” demanded Ellie, waking up the others. “This is our tree!” “Be nice, Ellie,” I said. “Who's Ellie?” “ME!” Ellie shouted, stomping her foot and raising her trunk. “I'm Ellie!” “Who are you?” I asked the girl. “I should ask who YOU are.” She said. “Not actually though. I was here first.” “How old are you?” “Seven.” “Seven and how many days?” I counted on my fingers. “seven and sixty one days.” “Then I was BORN first!” “What?! That doesn't count!” “Does too! I'm coming up there!” “No there's not room, actually...” Tommy purred, hardly paying the rest of us any attention while he groomed his paws, lazily as always. “Okay but there's not much room.” But then she was there, perched on the branch in front of us like she'd done it a thousand times. She didn't even have to ask which places were best to put her feet while she climbed up, she just knew. “There!” She exclaimed, sweeping dirt off her shorts. “Easy peasy!” She was super small, so skinny it looked like she sure needed a good supper, with hair as long as her whole back and almost as white-blond as dandelions. She needed a bath, too. And some shoes. Her bare little toes were as muddy as Tommy's tail when he plays in the brook. “Who are you?” I asked again, pulling Ellie, who didn't seem very happy about our guest, into my side. “Who are YOU?” She said, shooting her left eyebrow way up her forehead. “Adam! My name is Adam and this is my tree.” “Who were you talking to, Adam?” “Me!” Ellie snapped. “He was talking to me, of course!” “It doesn't matter!” I said to the girl. “Just tell me who you are!” Ellie's trunk sank lower than ever. “How come she can't hear me, Adam? How come? How come you won't tell her it was me?” But I just pulled her closer to me. “My name's Elsie Marie Clovers. I live over the hill. Just a mile exactly.” “Well I live at the bottom of the hill, actually. Just a mile exactly.” “Well, then, Adam. I guess this tree is both of ours.” “No! It's our tree!” Ellie stomped her feet, her trunk flailing. “You can't show up and take our tree, Missy! Don't even think about---” “Fine then.” I stroked Ellie's trunk, and Mr. Hopper whispered to her quietly that it would be okay. She should just relax. There's enough room in our tree for one more, surely. “Fine then.” Elsie Marie Clovers sat down across from us, leaning back into her branch and looked up up up, up into the sky. The sun peek a booed through the big green leaves, making her face a kaleidoscope. In this light you could see her very differently. “Adam? Adam how come she can't hear me?” Ellie tugged on my notebook, making me look at her. Tommy had already curled up in Elsie Marie Clover's lap, and Mr. Hopper was hopping from branch to branch, nibbling on a leaf here or there. I looked at Ellie and scratched her floppy purple ears. “Don't be sad.” I told her. “You just have to make her listen.” “There you go talking to yourself again.” Said Elsie Marie Clovers. “...Wait, what's this?” She picked up Tommy, jostling him awake. “Hey!” he screeched. “Can't an alley cat catch a Z or two around here?” “Be gentle!” Ellie shouted. “It's...it's Tommy.” I finally said. “He's my friend. Listen!” “Listen to what?” My cheeks got hot, and Ellie watched me patiently, almost pleadingly. “Just listen to him.” “Hello!” Tommy exclaimed, licking her face. “I'm Tommy! Now if you don't mind, I was enjoying my nap.” Elsie watched as he curled into her lap, a smile bigger than any I'd ever seen slowly creeping onto her lips beneath the leaf kaleidoscope. “All you had to say is you were talking to your animals.” She said. “Can you hear me, too?” Ellie carefully stepped towards her, her trunk pointing straight ahead. “Of course, silly!” Elsie giggled. “What's your name?” “Ellie. But don't go forgetting that I'M the most important girl around here, Missy. Just cause there's two of us now.” Elsie smiled, and reached out to pet her trunk. “Never!” She said. “Besides. You're FAR prettier.” Ellie's trunk lifted high over her head, and little by little, she stepped closer and closer to the new girl, warming up. Tommy slept, Mr. Hopper hopped, and Ellie snuggled beside me as I started writing again. “Whatcha writin' anyways?” Said Elsie Marie Clovers. In the patterns from the leaves on her face it was hard to tell which lines were made of shadows and which were made of dirt and which were made of sad things. But I think I saw a line made of sad things, small and thin, beneath her eye, glinting in the sunlight between the leaves. “Oh...um. It's nothing really.” I fumbled to close the notebook before she could see, but she scooted over and snatched it right out of my hands. She was sitting real close, and I could see the Spot of Something Sad real clear now. I'd never gotten a scar. I wondered how it got there. She flipped through the pages, reading each word very carefully. Dirt from her fingers smudged the corners of the pages where she turned them. Her eyes got real serious at some parts. Her toes curled and uncurled. The sun was going down. She tossed it back to me after a while, smiling. She didn't ask questions or tease me. That's how I knew that the stranger I just let into my tree wasn't so bad. As tree stealers go, she could have been worse. “My name is spelled E-L-S-I-E.” She said. “Huh?” “Just in case you ever wrote about me.” The sun was dipping farther and farther behind the hill. “I've gotta go home now, actually.” I helped Ellie and Tommy and Mr. Hopper climb down the tree, my face growing hot again. I don't know why, but I didn't really want Elsie Marie Clovers to see what I did next. “I guess we'll see you tomorrow.” I said. “Yeah, probably. Probably tomorrow.” She looked sort of sad but I didn't ask why. Her eyes looked sleepy. She climbed across one of the big branches, and swung her legs over the side. Her hair flew behind her as she jumped, dandelions whisking around her and floating over her head as she landed. We all watched them fly away but we were not sad when we couldn't see them anymore. There were plenty more where that came from. “What are you standing there for?” She said. “I don't know. What are you standing there for?” “I asked first.” “I'm just getting ready to go home.” “But you're waiting for me to leave first, that's why you're just standing there.” “No, that's stupid.” “No it's not.” “Yeah, it's not. Whatever.” I bent down to the side of the tree trunk. “I just wasn't sure I wanted any old stranger, and a GIRL, to know about my secret hiding place.” “A GIRL!” She snorted. “I'm not just a girl. I'm actually Wonder Woman.” “Yeah right.” “No, really! Didn't you see me fly from that branch?” “You just jumped! Anyone could do that!” “Not actually, though.” I groaned. “Just don't go telling about my hiding spot. And don't go looking in it, either. You can play in the tree all you want I guess, but stay out of the hiding spot.” “What is your hiding spot, anyway?” I lead her around to the other side of the trunk, and Tommy crawled into the big, empty hollow. “Whoa.” Elsie peeked inside. “Night night, Ellie.” I gave her a big squeeze, scratching her floppy ears. “I'm real proud of you for running like that today, Ells. It was real good.” I kissed her trunk as she yawned, and settled down next to Tommy. “Night, night Adam. Bye, Elsie...” And then she was fast asleep, her trunk snoring just quietly. “Come on, Mr. Hopper! It's time for bed!” “Alright, alright!” He bounced in after them, shaking grass off his ears. “See ya, tomorrow, guys!” “Will they be okay here all night?” Elsie whispered. “Yeah, of course. This is their favorite place.” I stuffed my notebook and pencils into the big envelope with “TOP SECRET” written across it. Mom had helped me write it so it looked neat. I nestled the envelope in next to Ellie and Tommy and Mr. Hopper while they slept, smiling at them real quiet before turning back around to Elsie. “Okay bye.” I said. “I'll race you home.” “One mile exactly in both ways? Do you promise you're not lying?” “I promiseee! Gees!” She shoved my shoulder lightly, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” I grinned. The sun had almost set. I needed to get home before it got dark out or Mom would be real mad at me. We turned back to back and she started counting down from ten. “Ten...nine...eight...” I didn't get to say a bedtime story to Ellie and Tommy and Mr. Hopper. I'll tell two tomorrow. “seven...six...five...” I turned my head around a little bit to look at her. Her eyes were squinted tight and she was staring down the hill, I supposed to where her house was. Out of the shade from the Big Tree, I could see the scar on her cheek even better. “two...one...GO!” And I felt her kick away as I stood there, before I I eventually realized I was late. And I started running, farther and farther away from Elsie and Ellie and Tommy and Mr. Hopper, but closer and closer to my house, and them closer and closer to theirs. I looked back after a while, and I couldn't see her anymore behind the hill. And then I realized that we were running in opposite directions and we'd never know for sure who won the race. So I stopped running, and just walked. I thought about Wonder Woman and dandelions and baby elephants learning to run, and the scar on a seven and something day old girl's face and I didn't know what it all meant. So I just walked. And my friends slept in their tree. And somewhere over the hill, she was running. Maybe she was walking now, too. But I don't know. I think she probably kept running. ~ ~ Two years later Elsie was as much a part of our tree as the rest of us. We were nine and something days old now, which was really old, actually. I was a lot stronger and Elsie was a little taller and her hair was a little longer. Our feet were a little dirtier, and Ellie wasn't a baby anymore, and Tommy was even lazier than ever, and Mr. Hopper's bright green hair was getting less bright with every day that he played in the dirt on days that it didn't rain. We were sitting in the tree on the first day of summer, when the sun had just came up, and Tommy and Ellie were still asleep. Mr. Hopper was running around eating a breakfast of leaves, Elsie was lying on her back with her hair flipped over her face, braiding dandelion stems into it. I wrote in my notebook and glanced at her from time to time, careful she didn't notice. Suddenly, she jumped up. “Come on, everyone! We've got a job.” And just like that time on the first day she showed up at the tree, she swung her legs and leaped off the big branch like she was flying, swatting dirt off her shorts when she landed, gently on her toes. I picked up Ellie and Tommy, while Mr. Hopper skittered behind us. I don't really know why we followed her or why we listened to her. But it just seemed like the thing to do. Ellie ran after her, her ears flapping.“What are we doing?” She shouted. “Wait! Don't crush them!” Ellie stopped quickly in her tracks as Elsie dove to her feet. “We want to save all the dandelions. We can't crush them.” She bent intently to the dandelions, closing her eyes and smelling them as she gently pulled as many as she could hold into her hands. “Everyone grab as many as you can,” she said. “But be extra super gentle.” “What are we going to do with them?” Tommy meowed, with a yawn, as he stretched out his back. “We're gonna make a dandelion tree.” And everyone smiled including the sun, and it was the best kind of warm. We picked every fluffy white dandelion we could carry, leaving the yellow ones to sleep and keep growing. Elsie sang from across the field, her voice the wind blowing dust from the ground. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night...take those broken wings and learn to fly.” She bent and nestled a handful of flowers behind Ellie's ear. “All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise.” Ellie giggled, and Elsie kissed her trunk. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night...take these sunken eyes, and learn to see...” Her scar hadn't gone away in the two years since we'd met. It faded a little. But sometimes it was even more vivid than before. You couldn't see it when she was happy, but sometimes you could see it when she was smiling, and this is how you would know her smile wasn't really real. You could see it when she slept in the tree and the shade darkened everything, but brightened the scar. You could see it when you turned around in the last few seconds of her countdown, before she started running, and her eyes were squinted. And you could see it when you went home and realized you didn't actually know where she went to up the hill, and if she kept running or started walking. You could see it now, when the sun was hot, and the yellow of dandelions cast rainbows under her chin, and her eyebrows were furrowed together in the middle and her eyes looked quietly sad but you didn't know why and probably wouldn't ask. “...you were only waiting for this moment to be free.” We were all quiet, shielding our bouquets under our shirts to keep the wind from blowing them away before it was time. “That's a pretty song, Elsie.” Tommy purred, nodding against her ankles in the overgrown grass that swallowed them, and almost reached our knees. “It was my mom's favorite.” That was the first time we'd heard of Elsie's mother. She didn't talk about her family or what she ran to at the other end of the hill when we raced in reverse. And we didn't ask. So we just smiled small and stayed quiet, while she sang and we saved dandelions from wind, or so we thought, because eventually they'd blow away, anyways, and we could not stop that from happening. Elsie braided the stems into chains, chains that I swear could reach both ends of the hill if we stretched them out. We wrapped them around the trunk, Mr. Hopper running with one end up the tall branches and poking them through leaves and moss and hollows in the bark, until every branch was the stem of one giant flower and the midday sun as we finished shone through the white cotton so very bright, but soft enough that it would not hurt our eyes. “The white dandelion tree in the yellow dandelion field.” Elsie smiled. We all smiled. We climbed and felt the wisps beneath our fingers, a shade confused with light in the most splendid of ways. “They'll all blow away eventually, though, right?” Tommy sad solemnly, staring from Elsie's lap at the umbrella of white above our heads. “Everything blows away eventually.” She said. “But there will be flowers in our tree so long as we're together.” I watched from the biggest branch of the white dandelion tree as she and Ellie and Tommy and Mr. Hopper chased each other laughing through the yellow dandelion field. And I wrote in my notebook. And I thought about Elsie Marie Clovers' scar and the end of the hill I'd never been to. And I tried to calculate in the margins of the page exactly how long it would take for every little seed to blow away and begin again somewhere else. But once I thought I had the answer, no wind came, and the flowers stayed put for longer than I thought to be possible. “Hey!” I looked up from what I was writing. Elsie climbed up the tree, and sat down across from me, leaning her head against a branch. The others still played below us, and we watched them for a minute, smiling. “Did they miss me?” She whispered finally. She was looking down at them, her eyes bent sad, her lips frowning, her scar shining. “Yeah. They kept asking where you were.” She bit her lip, and I think I saw her eyes get wet. I twirled my pencil in my fingers. “Where'd you go, anyways? Why didn't you come back here for so long?” She looked at her toes. “It was only a couple days.” “Yeah but that's a real long time. How come you're talking about it now, anyways? It was weeks ago.” “Yeah but that's a real short time.” I shoved her. “But where'd you go?” She lied down her stomach, her hands under her chin, watching them run and play below us. “I don't know. Lotsa places.” “Was it a vacation? Did you stay in a hotel?” “No, I didn't stay anywhere, actually. I usually don't...” “What do you mean?” Below us, they were arguing about whether or not it was fair to play tag with Mr. Hopper, who could jump a lot faster than the others could run. “Doesn't matter.” I said. “You should just tell them before you leave again. They'll miss you.” She smirked. “You'll miss me, too, stupid.” I think I blushed. I looked down at my notebook and tried to hide behind writing. “Whatever you say.” She shoved my shoulder. “Yeah, whatever.” She fell asleep after a while, under the heat of the sun through the dandelions. Ellie and Tommy curled up next to her when they got tired of chasing Mr. Hopper, and he furrowed into her lap and slept, too, the afternoon sun casting shadows on their faces and changing all the colors to something calm and warm and quiet. And I wrote and wrote. And in the margins I drew pictures of them, asleep in the Dandelion Tree. A few weeks ago, we came to the tree, and Elsie didn't. And she didn't come the next day or the next day and they all worried, but I worried even more than them, even though I wouldn't admit it. We all talked about where she might be and what adventures she might be having, and what we'd do when she came back. And then after a couple days we found her braiding bracelets made of grass in the middle of the field and they all ran to her and tackled her with hugs and she giggled and kissed their fur, and I shoved her and told her she was stupid and probably shouldn't do that again because it really worried our friends. And she smiled and rolled her eyes and Ellie asked where she'd been and she said she was “away” and that she didn't feel like talking about it, but we didn't have to worry, because she would always, always, always come back. But we still worried. That's what friends do. So I drew her scar, right under her eye. And I drew flowers beneath her chin. And things were warm. And there were dandelions over our heads. But everything blows away eventually. ~ ~ When were thirteen Elsie Marie Clovers got another scar. She ran to the tree an hour later than usual and flung herself into my bewildered arms. I sat there, stunned and confused, while she cried. Eventually she pulled away, and I saw that her forehead was bleeding, and that she'd gotten blood on my shirt, but that didn't matter. “What happened?!” “Just help me!” She cried. “There's...there's glass in it I think...I don't know, I need help...” I held her shoulders. “We can take you to my mom. She always knows what to do when---” “No!” She wiped roughly at her eyes, trying to catch her breath. “No, we can't tell your mom.” “Why not?” “Because we can't! Look, can you just help me or what?” She was trying not to cry anymore, but she couldn't help it, and I understood that. “Just...just pick the glass out.” I tried to wipe the blood off the cut, and eventually it stopped coming. It wasn't very deep, but it was long, right across her hairline where it could easily be hidden if she cut her bangs. But I secretly hoped she didn't do that. I'd rather see her scar than not see her eyes. “It's okay...” I murmured. “It's not very bad.” She winced as I gently pulled out the little shards of glass, tossing them over the side of the tree. “Geez, Elsie, what happened?” “It was an accident. I know it was an accident.” “Yeah but--” “It was an accident okay?” there was an urgency in her voice that I didn't understand. Like so much of her, I wanted to know exactly what put it there and why and how to make it better, but there was so much I did not understand and would not understand, and even though I'd spend the better part of my life trying to figure those things out, I probably wouldn't get anywhere, because at the end of the day we'd be running in opposite directions and she'd know exactly where I was ending up and I'd never know for sure the same for her. When I was sure all the glass was out, I tore off a piece of my shirt and held it to her forehead to stop the bleeding. Her face was splotched with tears, her lips quivering. “Thank you, Adam.” “No problem.” “I'm sorry I run off all the time and don't tell you where I'm going.” “Yeah, well.” “And I know you worry. You can't blame the animals anymore.” I thought for the first time in months of Ellie and Tommy and Mr. Hopper, asleep below us in the hole in the dandelion tree. Tears welled in her eyes and I didn't know if it was because of the scar closing on her forehead, or because the dandelions we'd coiled around the branches yesterday were almost all blown out by now, and the old stuffed animals didn't help us make them, and somewhere over the years we started forgetting to wake them up. And then I did something really crazy and stupid. I kissed her forehead, right under the cut that would become her second scar. “I'll always blame the animals, idiot.” She laughed. And I laughed. And before the last bushel of dandelions could blow away we made another chain, and another, and another. We climbed the tall branches Mr. Hopper used to jump so easily, and at the end of the day I put my notebook in the big envelope and hid it beneath Ellie's head in the little hole, where everything was safe, no matter what. Elsie took my hand, as we looked at them. Tommy's fur was matted, and dirty. Mr. Hopper's ears were drooped, mud on his paws. Ellie's trunk was wrapped around all of them, a wilted, decaying bouquet of dandelions nestled behind her ear. So we let them sleep, protecting my notebook, our castle, and everything that ran exactly a mile up and down the hill in either direction. And we knew we'd all be safe so long as there were dandelions in our tree. “You know, our races are actually pretty stupid.” I said, as we walked across the yellow dandelion field and the sun went down. “Yeah, I know.” “So how come we still do them?” “Because all I know how to do is make dandelion chains and run away from things.” “That's not tr--” She smirked, kissed my cheek, and dropped my hand. “Ten...nine...eight...” I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. I looked back at her scar, scars. And for the first time, I could not see them. I think that means that she was happy. “Six....five...four...” “I'm so gonna beat you.” She laughed. “two...one...GO!” And I felt her kick off, felt the grass sway against my ankles as she ran in the other direction. I waited for a second, turning around and watching her run, her long hair Wonder Woman's cape trailing behind her, before finally, I smiled, and ran off the other way. I didn't know if she'd be there in the morning, or the next one, or the one after that. I didn't know where she was running to right now, or ever. But she said she'd always come back. And I believed her when she said it. The next morning, she didn't show up. I sat in the tree writing, by myself, while the animals slept below us and I forgot to wake them up. I waited for her to show up, but I guess I wasn't surprised when it didn't happen. I drew her in the margins. I covered the tree in dandelions because so long as there were flowers in our tree, we'd be together. I had to fool myself this way. I had to make it true. “You're right.” I said to no one, because she wasn't there, and she was the only person I really wanted to talk to. “I do worry. I worry more than you'll ever know, actually. Me, not the animals. Me. I worry. I worry about you all the time. Even when you're here.” But she couldn't hear me. And one by one flowers flew away. And in the morning I'd be there to put them back. Even when she wasn't. ~ ~ I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on my window. I sat up, and saw her, perched in the tree outside my bedroom, seventeen years old, and still barefoot and smiling. “Jesus, Elsie, where the hell have you been?” I whispered as I opened the window and she gracefully climbed in. “Be quiet, we can't wake everyone--” She kissed me and cut me off. “We're fine, Adam. Besides, your mom loves me.” “Yeah but I don't think she would love you breaking into my room in the middle of the night.” “Whatever, stupid.” I rolled my eyes. “Where were you, Elsie? You were gone for over a week.” I watched her as she sat down on my bed, and unzipped her backpack, not answering. “Do you remember these?” And one by one she pulled out three stuffed animals, wet, dirty, moth eaten, but the most familiar faces in my universe. Ellie the purple elephant, Tommy the calico cat, and Mr. Hopper the green rabbit, all sat before me on my bed, in the light of the moon through my open window. The moonlight reflected off her eyes and glinted off the scars she tried to hide with makeup, but that I'd always see, because I'd memorized their exact placement, and I remembered the days she'd gotten them and what she'd looked like when she came running to the big tree, running to me instead of away from me. “Oh my God...” I picked up Ellie, her trunk waterlogged and heavy, her button eyes still perfectly intact. “I can't believe I just left them there...” “They were guarding the Dandelion Tree, of course.” She said. “They were perfectly safe.” She came and curled up next to me, still rummaging around in her bag. “And this...” She tossed the big, manila envelope, heavy with notebooks and pencils, into my lap. “You didn't look at these, did you?” “No,” She said. “I didn't think you'd want me to. I mean you were writing in there just last week and you've had it for as long as I've known you, and you've never let me read it, so I didn't think you wanted me too...” I reached over and stuffed the envelope into the drawer on my nightstand. “Yeah, well...I mean, it's not top secret or anything, despite the label.” I grinned, and looked down at Mr. Hopper, whose paws were so muddy you could hardly tell they were ever green. “And yeah, I still write in there sometimes.” I combed through her long hair with my fingers, stroking it out of her face and behind her ears. She bent her cheek into the palm of my hand, looking at me. “What do you write about?” She whispered. “I don't know. Lotsa things.” “Me?” “Never.” She smiled, nestling down next to me. “And what do you never write about me?” “Well I never write about how crazy and insane and absolutely lovely you are, that's for sure.” Her scars were visible, even though she was smiling. After ten years, I still couldn't figure out how to make them go away. “I love you, Stupid.” She said. We lied there in silence, the moon casting a light across the tattered stuffed animals at our feet almost reminiscent of the sun through the dandelions in our tree on ten different summers that all ran together as one. “Els, is it always gonna be like this?” I whispered. “Like what?” “Like me always asking where you were instead of how you are, never knowing if I'm kissing you goodbye, or if you'll be back in the morning.” “You know I'll always come back.” “Dammit, Elsie, that's not the point.” “I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. But you just don't understand--” “I just don't understand what, Elsie? What it's like to be you? You're right, I don't. But that doesn't mean you can't just let me try.” “I know. I'm sorry. “Because I'll never fully understand you, but that doesn't mean I don't worry about you when you're gone. And yeah, I can't blame the fucking animals, anymore. I get that now.” we were quiet, and tears ran quietly down her face, paving through the dirt in her skin. “I can't help it sometimes.” She said. “I know I never talk about my family and you never ask, but it's because that's what I'm running from, okay? And all those times when we were kids and we'd race home in opposite directions, you'd come here and your mom would have dinner on the table and you'd take a bath and read a bedtime story and fall asleep in your room just down the hall from your parents, and I'd run until I got tired, and then slip in through the window when I was sure my dad was passed out in front of the TV. And there would be the nights when he was drunk enough to be dangerous but not drunk enough to knock himself out, and I'd get hit for running to the tree and not telling him where I was going, or he'd throw a bottle at my head when I slept in too late to leave the house before he woke up, and you and that tree and those stupid stuffed animals were the only thing that ever made me feel like I didn't have to run away, but then I'd let myself get happy for a minute, and forget that my mother was dead and that my father was a lunatic and I'd have to run away for a while until I was properly sad again, okay? That's where I was, Adam. I was fucking running away from you because you made me happy and that scared me because everything that ever makes me happy ends up either dying or throwing bottles at my head. So I'm sorry I worry you. I'm sorry I fuck everything up. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.” She collapsed into my chest, her sobs wracking her body, and I held her and cried into her hair, because I didn't know what to say, and there was nothing to say, and if there was, I didn't know how to say it. I closed my eyes, and Ellie curled up between us, Tommy nestled against Elsie's face, and Mr. Hopper furrowed between our arms. And I think Ellie said something like “I hope the leaves never change.” And even if she didn't, that's how it felt. Summer was short, and life was the longest thing there was. Sometimes we wanted to run away from it. And sometimes we wished it would last forever. After a while, Elsie looked up at me. “Adam?” “Hmm?” I wiped her eyes with my thumb. “Tomorrow, can we put dandelions back in our tree?” “Absolutely.” I started singing, quietly into her ears, until she fell asleep. “Black bird singing in the dead of night...take these broken wings, and learn to fly....” I wrapped my arms around her, Ellie wrapped her trunk around us, and we slept and dreamed of dandelions. “...You have just been waiting for this moment to be free.” But everything blows away eventually. When I woke up, she was gone. I don't know what I expected. It made sad sense. The shape of her body was still imprinted in the blankets next to me, a hollow in the pillow where her head was. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking at the bottom of my bed to see that Ellie and Tommy and Mr. Hopper weren't there anymore. I looked on the floor to see if they'd fallen, but they weren't anywhere. And here I was, the summer before I left for college, frantic because I thought I'd lost my stuffed animals. Panicked, I reached over to the nightstand and flung the drawer open. The envelope was still there. Everything was still inside it. So I threw clothes on, stuffed the envelope into a backpack, and walked up the hill to our old tree, the sun just coming up. When I got there, I wished the leaves would never change, because she was there, and I wasn't imagining it, and she was covering our tree in dandelions. “I thought you ran away again.” I climbed up to her. She smiled. “Did you worry?” “Of course I worried. Are you okay?” She took a deep breath, squinting in the morning sun. “I ran. I didn't run away, I just...ran. And I turned around before I got far enough away to want to keep going.” We were quiet. I helped her braid flower stems. “I'm glad you came back.” “Yeah well, I'll always come back.” “I know. I love---” “I think I'm pregnant.” My hands stilled, but hers kept braiding. I stared at her scars. “Actually, I don't think it, I know it. That's why I ran away last week. I was scared. And then last night when I came back, I was too scared to tell you. So I told you about all the other times, and pretended like that was enough, but it wasn't. I'm pregnant, Adam.” But after a while, I realized I wasn't looking at her scars. I was just looking at her. Not what happened to her, but her. Just her. And I don't know why it took me so long to understand that. “You're...” “Yeah.” “And it's...mine?” “Of course it's yours, idiot.” I went to her. “I wish you'd have told me.” “Because you worried?” “Because I worried.” “And now you're gonna have someone else to blame worrying about me on.'The animals worried about you.' 'The kid worried about you.'” “No.” I kissed her forehead. “No, just me. It was always me.” She was crying. “I want it to be as safe as Ellie and Tommy and Mr. Hopper.” “It will be.” “Do you promise?” “I promise.” “I put them in the hole in the tree this morning. In case you were wondering.” “I know. Where else would they have gone?” “I love you.” “You're safe here, you know? You don't have to run away anymore​.” But she fell asleep. And I let her. I took out my notebook and wrote, her head in my lap. I drew her in the margins. We had a long time before the dandelions would blow away. But they'd blow away eventually. I flipped to the first page of the notebook I'd had for ten years and still hadn't quite filled. “Why, you're the best dancer in the whole field!” said Mr. Hopper. “No I'm not! Not as good as Tommy!” “Well, that's just because I'm more nimble!” The alley cat purred, licking his feet. “All cats are! But you've got your own special talents, Ellie!” Ellie's trunk perked even higher. “Really? Like what?” “Weellll...” I said, picking a bouquet of dandelions, which was a hard job because as soon as you went to grab another flower, the one before it had already floated away, “Like being the nicest kindest funniest elephant in the whole world!” I stuck my little dandelions behind her floppy ear, and she giggled. I rewrote that part, in the back, to where we were now. “Why, you're insane, and crazy, and absolutely infuriating. But you're the most beautiful person in this whole field, and this whole country, and this whole world.” I said. “No I'm not. Not hardly.” She said. “Well that's only because you can't see yourself when you're asleep in the Dandelion tree and there's light on your face, and flowers in your hair and I'm worrying about you when you're gone.” Her smile grew wider. “Really? And what do you worry about?” I picked up a bouquet of dandelions, which was a hard job, really, but you made it easy, much easier than it actually was. “I worry that you're not happy. That's all I worry about.” I stuck my little dandelions behind her ear, and she smiled. “Everything blows away eventually.” I said, even though she couldn't hear me. “But I hope you stick around for a while.” I fell asleep next to her. She stayed for a while. We had a baby girl. But everything blows away eventually. I watched each dandelion seed float off, one by one. Eventually there weren't any left. They were all flying. And I didn't pick more. And neither did she. We watched as they left. I let them go. Eventually, I had to let them go. And they promised they'd come back. But I can't wait around forever. ~ ~ June 13, 2007 “Come on, Bunny! Just take this and run it up to the tallest branch, and we'll have a dandelion tree just like the one my daddy drew in this notebook!” I showed him the page, careful not to wrinkle them. Bunny and Alley Cat and Alfie all smiled at each other even though I didn't really know why. “No problem!” Bunny said. He took the flower chain I'd been making all morning, and the others helped him coil it around the big tree like they'd done it a thousand times before, even though I knew that was probably impossible. “Good job, guys! Whoa!” I clapped my hands, and Ally Cat jumped into my arms, licking my face. They were all pretty old, my animals. But they still loved to play. “We made a dandelion tree, just like the picture! It will probably all blow away real quick though...” “No,” said Alfie, with a smile. “I reckon they'll stay for longer than you think.” Her trunk was high in the air, dandelions behind her faded purple ears. We all climbed up the tree, and I put Daddy's notebook back in it's envelope. He didn't know that I'd found it, even though I used to see him writing in it sometimes when I was littler. The light shining through the dandelions was the prettiest color. It made my friends smile real hard, and look at each other real happily, but I didn't really know why. “I love you guys.” I said, lying down in our tree and looking up through the dandelions. “We love you, too, Ellie!” Alfie said, snuggling next to me. We rested for a while in our dandelion tree, before we heard branches rustling. “Hey!” Someone said from below. We looked out over the side. A woman with blond hair a real similar color to mine was looking up at us. Alfie and Bunny and Alley Cat looked at each other, and then back at her, smiling extra big. “Who are you?” I asked. “I'm a friend.” She said. She was smiling, but her eyes looked like they were watering, and I didn't know why. There were little scars on her face. “Think I can come up?” “Well...we don't usually let strangers into our tree.” “Think you can make an exception?” Alfie looked at me and nodded. “I guess so.” I said. “But there isn't much room.” “Oh, there's plenty!” Alfie giggled. “Plenty of room for one more.” The woman climbed up like she'd done it a billion times, which was also impossible. “What's your name?” She asked. “Ellie.” I told her. She smiled extremely big. “That's a really lovely name.” there was a crack in her voice, like she might start crying, but I also didn't know why. “Thank you.” I said. “What are you doing in my tree?” “I used to play here.” She said. “When I was your age.” “Really?!” I said. “Did you live close by?” “Exactly a mile up the hill...well actually, I lived here. In this very tree.” “You did?!” “It was my favorite place in the whole wide world.” She leaned against a big branch, and smiled up at the dandelions. “Did you do this?” She said, pointing at the flower chains. “Yeah. It was real hard. But my friends helped me a lot.” Bunny slowly hopped over to her, and there were real tears in her eyes, no mistake, but she was still smiling super big, so I didn't know what kind of tears they were. She picked Bunny up, and kissed his ears, even though they were dirty. “That's Bunny.” I said. “Bunny, eh?” She wiped a tear. “I used to know a rabbit just like this one. I called him Mr. Hopper.” “Hey! That's what my dad calls Bunny! He wrote about it in his notebook.” “His notebook?” “Yeah, but I can't show it to you, because it's Top Secret. It says so on the envelope. I don't think he knows I have it.” I shoved it under me, just in case. I shouldn't have said anything. She was crying a lot now, but I think it was the happy kind, because even though there were tears coming out of them, her eyes never stopped smiling, and she kept petting Bunny and Alfie and Alley Cat like she'd known them for years and years, which was another impossible thing. “Will you please let me see the notebook, Ellie?” she said. “You won't get in trouble if you let me. I promise.” “How do you know?” “Well, I don't.” She said. “But just trust me.” “Let her see it, Ells!” chimed Alfie. “It'll be okay.” I wasn't so sure, but something in the way she said it made me believe her. So I pulled it out and handed it to her. “Just be real careful. It's kinda old. We can't get it dirty.” She nodded, and I let her read the words my daddy had written, only some of which I was able to read yet, myself. I was only in second grade. I was learning pretty fast, though. I watched her flip through each page, smiling at some parts, laughing at others, and crying quietly through most of it. She read each word carefully, and stroked each of the margin drawings with her finger. She touched the pages with dirt smudges in the corners, and stared at each eraser mark, every word crossed out and filled back in. “Do you know my Daddy?” I asked. “A little bit.” She said. “It's been a long time, though.” “How long?” “Too long. Far too long.” She smiled at me, as she turned the page, scratching beneath Alfie's trunk the way she liked it. “Hey, Ellie. Who's this?” Daddy had climbed up the tree, and was staring at the woman. He didn't look angry that a stranger was in my tree with me. I don't really know what he looked like. But he stared at her, and at the animals, and at me, and the notebook. I couldn't figure out what he was feeling like, and usually I could. “I convinced her to let me up.” the woman said. “We were just talking.” Daddy sat down between us, picking up Alley Cat and ruffling his fur. “He could really use a bath.” he said. “I used to call him Tommy, you know?” He laughed. “I bet he likes both names.” The woman said. “Yeah. I bet he does.” Daddy's face looked a lot like the woman's right then, but I think the way his eyes were wet were a little less happy than the way hers were. I think there were other things in the way he was smiling. Things I didn't understand. “Ellie, do you think you could take Alley Cat and Bunny and Alfie down to the grass and play for a while?” he said. He didn't look at me or the woman, but at the notebook she was holding. He didn't look angry, though. I don't really know exactly how he looked. I took my friends and we climbed down the tree. We ran far enough away that they wouldn't think I was listening, but that I could still hear them if I listened real hard. So we sat and started weaving dandelions into chains, playing I Spy, and I tried to hear what they were saying as best I could, even though I probably wasn't supposed to listen. “Why did you stop writing about me?” The woman asked him. “Because eventually I had to stop waiting for you to run back home.” “But I always come back.” “Yeah.” He said. “You always come back.” It was quiet. The wind blew a few dandelion seeds around our faces, and Alfie sneezed when they got too close to her trunk. “Did you teach her to do this? The dandelions?” “No, actually. This is the first time she's done it...she must have seen it in the notebook. I thought I had it hidden.” “In the hole in the Dandelion Tree?” He laughed, and looked up through the branches. “Yeah.” He said. “In the hole in the dandelion tree.” “There's no safer place on Earth.” “Obviously, there is.” He laughed. “Or it wouldn't have been found.” “You know what I mean.” “Yeah. I always know what you mean.” “I'm sorry.” “For what?” “I thought you always knew what I meant.” “I want to hear you say it.” “I'm sorry for running away again.” “She worried about you.” She laughed and I could hear the tears in her throat. “Yeah? And the animals, too?” “Yeah, they missed you, too. You should have warned them.” “I should have. I'm sorry.” They were quiet for a while. Bunny and Alfie were arguing over whether or not the rose they had I Spied was considered red or pink, and Alley Cat was stretched out in the sun, probably going to fall asleep, like he always did. I listened real closely for them to start talking again. “I worried about you, too.” “I know.” “Not just Ellie and the animals. Me. I worried. I worried a lot, Elsie.” “I know.” “So why'd you do it?” “Because I wanted you to run after me, Adam. I wanted you to lace up your goddam running shoes and zip your backpack and come chasing me. You can't just sit here and deliberately forget to braid the flower chains and give up when they all blow away. You have to save them.” “Why do they have to blow away, though? Why can't they stay? Dammit, why do they have to leave?” He was crying, staring at her, and she was crying too. Alfie tried to distract me so I'd stop listening, but I couldn't help it. So she let me listen. “Because they're scared. They're scared of saying goodbye so they fly off before they have to.” They were quiet for a while. “I spy...something...red!” I said. And they all started guessing. “The flower bush over there! The cardinal in the tree!” “No...No... It's the spaghetti-o stain on Alfie's trunk, sillies!” “You can stay, if you want.” I heard him say. “There will always be flowers in this tree so long as we're together.” “I can't promise they'll stay put forever. They've got a tendency to float away.” “Then I'll catch them. Every last one of them, I'll catch them.” So Alley Cat slept in the overgrown yellow dandelion field, and Alfie and Bunny and I chased each other around until our knees were grass stained, and our cheeks were sunburned, and Daddy and the woman joined in, and we ran and laughed and played until the sun started to go down, and the dandelions started floating up from the branches. And then when it was time to go home, we lined up side by side, the animals and notebook in its envelope asleep in the Hole in the Dandelion Tree. I held daddy's hand on one side, and the woman's, whose name was Elsie, on the other. “We're gonna race.” She said. And Daddy smiled bigger than I'd ever seen him smile. And she started counting down. “When I say Go...ten...nine...eight...” Daddy squeezed my hand. I looked up at Elsie's face. There were tears on her cheeks, glistening atop a thin line beneath her eye that must have been a scar. But I knew they were happy tears. They were the happiest tears I'd ever seen. “six...five...four...” “Are you ready?” Daddy whispered. “You bet.” I said. “I'm so gonna beat you.” “three...two...one...Go!” And we flew, like dandelions in the wind, all of us, in the same direction, never letting go of each others hands, because actually, it didn't matter who was winning, anyways. I knew the dandelions in our tree and in our field were all going to blow away faster than we could replace them. But that was okay. I thought about what Daddy said. There would be flowers in our tree so long as we're together. And that was enough for me. So we just ran.