Toby and the Secrets of the Tree Read online

  At a bend in the path, they saw someone coming, far away in the snow. Lila was the first to recognize Lola. She let go of Mano’s hand and ran toward her sister.

  After a moment of disbelief, Lola started running too. The snow was deep. They could barely make their way through it, and it seemed as if their reunion would never happen, but the two sisters ended up out of breath and in each other’s arms. The rest of the family followed.

  They formed a little huddle of arms and faces all mixed up together. The snow reached their knees. They were holding on to each other by the shoulders.

  “And Mo?” asked Lola.

  “He’ll join us,” Lila replied.

  Snowflakes were falling from the lichen trees, tickling their necks and melting on their backs. The Asseldor family could have stayed there all winter. They’d have been found again at the thaw.

  At one point, Mr. Asseldor said, “What about this little bundle I’ve got on my back — do you know who she is?”

  He revealed Snow.

  “No . . .” said Lola very seriously.

  Mrs. Asseldor looked surprised; she could have sworn that this little one was . . .

  Given the furious face Snow was making, Lola gave up on the joke. “Of course, Dad,” she said to her father. “She’s my daughter!”

  “Your daughter . . . Your daughter!” he repeated, sniffing.

  “Snow,” Lola said to the little one. “This is your grandfather.”

  He felt Snow slide down from his shoulders. She landed in his arms and wouldn’t leave his side from that moment on.

  Everybody in the group of Flying Woodcutters liked newcomer 505. He didn’t say much, but he was helpful, competent, and agile, and he volunteered for the most dangerous tasks. The men appreciated the sparkle in this young man’s eyes and his attentive ear. They also liked his silences, shrouded in a mystery, which he occasionally punctured by giving out a few details about his life. He had no name, no family, and a vagabond existence that was neither easy nor particularly unhappy.

  Within a few days, he had won the trust of his new companions.

  The section of Flying Woodcutters had been created in response to new kinds of lichen appearing, which no longer just formed thickets or woods on the bark of the Tree but cascaded down in creepers at vertiginous heights.

  There were fifty-one Flying Woodcutters, who had all volunteered for the job, and they worked in groups of three. They had stopped counting the number of fatal accidents that had occurred in their ranks.

  Number 505 had turned up a little before Christmas. There were few candidates for this kind of job: you had to be in extremely good shape and fearless. Toby had been adopted from day one. He didn’t say much, and he worked hard. Above all, it was fascinating how at ease he was in the most difficult situations. They had seen him climb through cascades of moss as fragile as lace.

  “Why don’t you have a name, 505?”

  “When you don’t have a family, you don’t have a name. Nothing I can do about that.”

  “If it was me who didn’t have a name, I reckon I’d feel lost.”

  The three Flying Woodcutters were working in a green ravine that was hanging from a branch. They were suspended by silk cables, and the snow was falling all around them.

  “I’ve had nicknames in the past,” said Toby as he put his ax back into his belt.

  “Like what?”

  The creepers were swaying in the wind as the Flying Woodcutters slid down.

  “Some people called me Little Tree.”

  “Can I call you Little Tree?”

  “If you want.”

  The two others were named Shaine and Torquo. They were ten years older than Toby and had been in a team with him since Christmas. Shaine was married to Torquo’s sister. They lived in a hamlet a few hours away from Joe Mitch’s territory. Like all the Flying Woodcutters, they went home only one night and one day per week.

  Toby had managed to get them to talk about the situation in the Tree.

  Woodcutters have a certain reputation. To put it politely, they find it hard to tackle sensitive subjects with any sincerity and are generally known to joke about their clumsy “wooden tongues.”

  What Shaine and Torquo confided in Toby gave him a better idea of how the Tree had been ruined since he’d left. Joe Mitch and Leo Blue were allies without being friends. They hated each other with a vengeance, but had managed to come to an understanding on common ambitions and interests.

  Leo didn’t mind using Joe Mitch’s Crater as an excuse to make the Grass people “disappear.” Mitch, for his part, was satisfied to see new hands appearing to dig his big hole.

  Similarly, the imprisonment of certain people in the Tree suited Leo Blue and prevented a new resistance movement. Joe Mitch was hoping to benefit from these captive brains to make people forget that he hardly had any himself and to improve his destruction techniques.

  So the arrangement between these two bosses was like one of those balances you find in nature, where one bug tolerates another because it’s eating the fleas off its back.

  Barely were these words out of their mouths than Shaine and Torquo regretted them. Their hands moved as if to erase everything they’d just explained, and they kept insisting to Toby, “That’s just what people say, but it’s not our problem. With our families, our work, our friends, we’ve got enough to be getting on with. . . .”

  “My son,” Shaine said with a laugh, “doesn’t even know that fat Mitch exists. He gets him muddled up with the Big Bad Bug in the stories I tell him!”

  “We take care of our own,” Torquo concluded. “If each person could make the twenty people around them happy, then the Tree would be a small paradise.”

  Toby could almost hear Nils Amen: I take care of those around me. It sounded good in principle. But what about those who weren’t surrounded by anybody?

  The first time Toby went back to the Olmechs’ refuge after a week’s work, he found a noisy, happy household. It was December 31 and dark.

  Before going inside, Toby saw the candles framing the doorway and remembered the old tradition of celebrating the New Year. He rubbed the snow off his boots on the threshold, realizing he’d completely forgotten about people marking this kind of date.

  In the Grass, celebrations are rare, and they never depend on the calendar. They just pop up in the course of the small pleasures of life. Sometimes you would say “What a celebration!” as you plunged your head into a drop of morning dew. No need for garlands and streamers. But Toby had occasionally felt nostalgic for ritualized celebrations, for long dresses and kisses at the stroke of midnight.

  Toby pushed the door open. There were ten at the table.

  Finding the Asseldor family reunited again, with the Olmechs, little Snow, and the smell of roasted meat and melted wax, Toby felt as if he was traveling back in time. The reunion was silent and misty eyed.

  There was now a real island of humanity in the Tree.

  In the depths of Amen Woods, between the lichen thickets, a family was coming back to life.

  Lila hadn’t changed, although her red hair was perhaps a little darker. Toby kissed her hello. She had grown thinner, but she still had those high cheekbones. And Milo still gave off the air of the overserious older brother. Mr. and Mrs. Asseldor were standing tall with smiles that crinkled their eyes and furrowed their brows.

  But Mano . . . When Toby took Mano in his arms, he realized that life hadn’t spared him. Poor Mano seemed as fragile as a frozen droplet on the end of a branch. The flapping of a butterfly’s wing would have been enough to break him.

  “I thought about you a lot, Toby Lolness. . . .” Mano told him in a reedy voice.

  Toby found a place to sit in their midst. Everyone’s shoulders touched. The heat was rising up around them. A gnat, stuffed with fresh walnut, was being spit-roasted in the fireplace. And walnut wine was being served, the smell reminding Toby of nights in the Low Branches when he and his father, lying under the roof of their house,
would listen to the Tree whispering.

  Little Snow was very proud to see everybody feasting on the walnut she had found. She had filled her pockets with pieces of sweet fried walnut, and there was a trail of butter all the way around her mouth. Sitting on the windowsill as the mistress of the household, she watched the celebrations.

  At dessert, Lex whispered into Toby’s ear, “Mr. Amen came by yesterday. He wants to talk to you.”

  Toby didn’t waste any time getting up from the table.

  “Happy New Year!” everyone called out.

  It was the middle of the night when Toby reached Nils’s remote hut. He was about to enter when he heard a loud voice from inside. Toby slid under the floor and listened.

  “Where were you, my son?”

  “I was traveling.”

  “You were spotted in the Gray Moss, leaving the Treetop.”

  “Am I being watched?” asked Nils with a smile in his voice.

  Silence.

  “Aren’t you celebrating this evening?”

  “No. I’ve brought the layouts from up there. I have to make headway on the great map of the forests.”

  “You work a lot, my son.”

  “What about you? Aren’t you celebrating tonight?”

  “I’m on my way,” Norz Amen explained. “I’m invited to a party with the Flying Woodcutters.”

  “Shaine?”

  “Yes, Shaine and his brother-in-law. Would you like to come?”

  “I’m working. Say hello to them from me.”

  “Shaine has a sister who isn’t married,” said Norz.

  “Really . . .”

  “I think you’d like her. You should see her from time to time. . . .”

  Toby heard a dull thump. Father and son must have been giving each other a pat on the back.

  “Well, give Shaine’s sister a kiss from me, Dad.”

  “With pleasure,” said Norz happily.

  The wooden floor creaked, and Norz Amen’s voice resonated again. “I’m proud of you, Nils. Sometimes I think of El Blue, that nutter’s father. If he was still alive, I don’t know what he’d make of his son, but I’m proud of mine.”

  “If Father Blue was still alive,” said Nils, “his son wouldn’t have turned out the way he has.”

  “If it was me,” grouched Norz, “and my son had been a traitor like that, I wouldn’t be answerable for my actions.”

  Norz Amen’s footsteps headed over to the door. Toby saw his huge shadow climb down the ladder, which groaned under his weight. Norz was so solid that he was nicknamed the Twig; he was as wide as a piece of wood.

  Once he’d reached the bottom, Norz called up loudly to his son, and Nils leaned out his window.

  “Why do you live up there?” asked his father. “Eh? Wouldn’t you like a proper house on the bark? What girl is going to climb up to your perch? Have you thought about that? Someone wearing a skirt, with ribbons in her hair, isn’t going to climb ladders.”

  “I don’t like easy pleasures,” Nils answered.

  Then came the sound of father cursing son, but he ended with “You silly sausage,” and it was stuffed full of tenderness.

  Norz headed off.

  Toby walked into the hut a moment later.

  Nils looked at him and smiled.

  Toby’s face seemed to be asking, “Well?” But he kept quiet.

  Eventually, Nils admitted, “I saw her.”

  Toby’s chest puffed up. He wasn’t touching the floor anymore.

  “She is . . .” whispered Nils. “She’s wonderful, Toby.”

  Toby looked down.

  “Are you sure it was her?”

  “No.” Nils smiled again. “She didn’t say a word to me. She’s stubborn as a pickax. She doesn’t answer. She looks at you without moving, and you feel like your bones are going soft.”

  “That’s her all right,” said Toby, overcome.

  He could see her. He could imagine her. He was experiencing that slightly giddy feeling again from the last time they’d met. They’d rushed down the slope, all the way to the lake.

  They’d found themselves standing, back to back and breathless, on the bark beach. They couldn’t even speak. A wave of joy encircled them, brushing against their skin.

  And now the story was starting up again. Three years later.

  “Have you told her I’ve returned?” Toby asked.

  “No. Someone was listening to us. Leo’s happy with me. He wants me to go back. He wants me to spend time with Elisha. But . . .”

  “What?”

  “I have to be careful. If I’m seen in the Nest . . .”

  “You have to go back, Nils.”

  “What can I say to this girl, if I’m not allowed to talk about you? It’s pointless, Toby.”

  “No, it’s not. You can talk to her about me, and I’ll tell you how. But first of all, promise me you’ll beware of Leo. He’s smarter than you think. Ever since I was little, I learned something, Nils. There are two energies in life. Hate and love. Most people live on one side or the other. But Leo has both of these in him. They run in his veins at the same time.”

  As he spoke, Toby thought about Ilaya, the girl in the Grass. She was also troubled by those contradictory waves that caused storms.

  “How can I talk to Elisha about you, if I can’t even say your name?”

  Toby sat down next to his friend.

  “What I’m about to tell you is something that she taught me. There are false bottoms, underneath words, just like there is below the wooden floor of your hut. You can hide secret messages in there, which can only be found by certain people.”

  Toby explained to Nils what he should say. He talked for a long time, until morning. The roof of the hut was creaking under the snow, and the two friends breathed in the sweet smell of the oil lamp.

  At the end, Nils said to Toby, “Why do you trust me?”

  “Because I don’t have any choice.”

  Nils shook Toby’s hand.

  “I’ll go back to see Elisha.”

  Day broke. There was a golden light in the branches.

  “It’s the first morning in the world,” said Toby, staring up at the arch of the Tree, a stained-glass window of sun and shadow. “Come with me. Don’t be on your own today.”

  He patted Nils on the shoulder and laughed.

  “My poor Nils,” he went on. “We haven’t even warned you that you’re hiding five more people in your shelter deep in the woods. Come on. The Asseldors have arrived. You’ll like them.”

  When Lila Asseldor woke up on the first day of the year, on this first morning in the world, she had no idea that it would be any different from any other day for her.

  She opened her eyes. Her parents were sleeping next to her, along with her two brothers and little Snow, who was rolled up inside a blue blanket.

  Lola and Lex had their bedroom just above.

  When they had arrived, a few days earlier, Lila was worried about seeing Lex again, because she had been secretly in love with him for so long. But she’d barely set foot in the house when she saw how much of a couple Lex and her sister were, saw gentle Snow at their feet, and she realized then that they were made for one another.

  Lila no longer felt as if happiness had been stolen from her. It was just that there was Lola’s happiness, on the one hand, and her own, on the other, and hers was taking a longer, windier path.

  But who says the best voyages are always the shortest ones?

  So Lila arose with this new feeling of lightness that she’d felt for the past few days.

  She slipped out of the loft, grabbed her raincoat, which was hanging from the door, and headed down to the kitchen.

  The Asseldors were gradually rediscovering the simple outward signs of freedom.

  Lila walked into the kitchen. First of all she saw Toby, his head bent over a steaming bowl of black bark juice. Then, opposite her, she saw another boy drinking the same brew.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, Lila,�
�� Toby answered.

  She went behind Toby’s chair and kissed him on the cheek.

  “This is Lila Asseldor,” Toby announced to the stranger. “Lola’s big sister.”

  “Hello,” said the young man.

  Lila grabbed a cup, went outside, and returned with snow in it. She sat down and poured a drop of sugar syrup into her bowl of snow.

  “What are you eating?” asked the stranger.

  “Snow with sugar. I love it.”

  “For breakfast?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you want something hot?”

  “No.”

  Toby enjoyed this crazy streak in the Asseldor sisters. He pushed his warm bowl toward Lila.

  “Try that. It’s good, it’s hot, and it’s pure happiness.”

  Lila refused, smiling. She looked at Toby and said in a serious voice, “I don’t like easy pleasures.”

  Where had Toby heard that expression before? He could swear he’d heard it the very same day. . . .

  He turned sharply toward Nils.

  “Lila,” said Toby. “I haven’t introduced you to Nils Amen. . . .”

  Nils couldn’t utter a word. His eyes were already lost in Lila’s red hair.

  “Stay there.”

  That’s what Mika had said to him, drawing a circle with his finger on the palm of his hand and making a dot in the middle. The circle and the dot meaning, “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

  But Mika hadn’t come back.

  So Liev had stayed there, even though he was fully aware that it had been night for some time now. Blind people aren’t stupid.

  And even though he was deaf, he could still sense that it was almost completely silent around him.

  Even without being able to see or hear, Liev had millions of indicators that told him what was going on around him. He would put his hand on the ground, sniff the air or taste it with his tongue. He was far from being a terrorized creature locked inside his own box. Liev was a strapping young man who had grown up in the middle of the Grass, honing his survival instincts.

  But there was no denying the fact that he needed Mika.

  A few centimeters away, Mika was waiting for him. He had crawled and climbed until he was in the thick of the tangled spikes that formed the Enclosure. He was catching a cold.