Turning Pages on the Embankment

For a while now, something has been rustling in the corner of my vision.

On the embankment. That person is sitting on the slope facing the river, back hunched. With their chin resting on arms folded over their knees, they seem to be deep in thought.

The sound clings to my ears. I lift my body slightly and twist my neck toward the source of the noise.

At the base of a large tree by the roadside, there is a girl. She is struggling with the vines tangled around the tree. That person instinctively buries their face in their arms, closes their eyes, and breathes slowly.

When I lift my head cautiously, the girl is gone.

The reeds in the riverbed rustle as the wind passes through. The scent of grass. Only the high roofs on the opposite bank look small. A shadow moves slowly across the mountainside. When I look up, a stray cloud is drifting by. A bus with a rounded nose crosses the wooden bridge, moving slowly and cautiously.

Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me and hold my breath. The sound of footsteps on grass moves slightly and then stops.

“Oh, a burr.”

Occasionally, a small voice like a murmur reaches me. That person looks in the opposite direction. They clench their back teeth.

“Were you crying?”

At words that seem to see right through me, my fingertips twitch. The girl is standing there, buried in the grass up to her waist.

“Hello.”

Meeting that person's gaze, the girl opens her mouth. I try to force a reply, but no voice comes out. I inhale.

“Hello.”

This time, I managed to say it properly.

The girl's large front teeth peek out. She approaches until she is just within reach of that person's arms and kneels down. The girl's hand moves. A burr is hanging from the sleeve of that person's dress.

I pluck the clinging burr and look at the girl. She is grinning. When I ask where she came from, she points to the village below the embankment. When I ask what she was doing, she sways her body back and forth.

“What did you come here for, big sister?” To such a direct question, I don't know how to answer. “Well... because I got dumped.”

The girl falls silent, then suddenly stands up and tells me to come with her. Stared at intently by the girl, I give up on finding words to refuse. I stand up slowly. The girl strides through the grass. The hem of her red suspender skirt bounces.

The girl looks up at the large tree and points to the leaves at the tip of a branch.

Try touching it.

I stood on my tiptoes, and my fingertips finally reached that height. As I touched the leaf just as I was told, it softly folded shut.

The silk tree is saying it's ticklish.

The girl laughed, looking ticklish herself. She reached out to another leaf. As her fingers traced the tip, it folded up just like a closing page. Oh, a breath mixed with a voice escaped her. As if invited, her fingers reached for a new leaf.

From near the base of the tree, a voice said, "Over here." The girl, on all fours, was peeking through a gap in the vines. When I crouched down to look, I saw that the area around the trunk was hollow.

Here, I have it hidden.

She tucked the hem of her skirt under her knees, curled her body, and went inside. It was surprisingly spacious. Light leaked in from between the vines and the tall weeds.

The girl sat down flat and held something in both hands. She held it out in front of me. A colorful tin can. I gently opened the lid. Light entered the can.

A necklace made of colorful stones with a slick, plastic texture. A pink pendant without a chain. A clown brooch with peeling paint. A glass marble, and some pebbles.

The girl's proud face was right in front of me. I felt an irresistible urge to laugh.

Our secret has been found out, hasn't it?

The girl's face crinkled and beamed, and a smile appeared on my own lips as well. I suddenly remembered and touched the brooch on my chest.

I made this, you know.

I said, sounding a little proud. Seeing the girl's wide-open eyes, I couldn't help but ask if she wanted me to make one for her. I promised to give it to her the next time we met.

A week later, on the embankment. I stood with my back straight. A small box in my hand. I brushed back my bangs, which had been ruffled by the wind.