Page 46 of Mama Si's Paradise

Yet somehow, for some fucked up reason, Ididn’trun. I just sat there and stared at the outside, at the trees that were right there, through the missing glass panel, until my ass turned numb.

Then, I stood up.

I couldn’t even explain what the hell I was thinking, but the outside was calling my name. I could hear it, even if it wasn’t a voice. It was a feeling or intuition or a thought in my head—of myself walking out there into the forest, breathing in the fresh air of the night, just being underneath those large trees that promised to keep me safe with each wave of a branch and each movement of the leaves.

I would be safe out there. I was still in the Paradise, and nothing was going to hurt me. I just needed to see what was out there. I needed to know.

So, I walked out.

My sneakers seemed to sink into the soil a little bit, though it wasn’t muddy. I stopped as a slow wind blew against my face, pushing my hair back, bringing with it the smell of roses. Bringing with it a warmth, a comfort that I felt deep inside mybones. The wind was calling my name, too, in the only way it knew how. The ocean was right there, foaming waves crashing against the shore slowly, surely, and it was within my reach. I could hear it, could almost smell the salt among the roses, and if I was brave enough to keep walking, I’d find it.

Who cared that the ocean was supposed to be hundreds of feet below the cliff upon which the Paradise was built? Who cared that these trees being here made no sense whatsoever—I couldseethem, feel them, and I could reach the ocean if I just kept on walking.

So, with the wind keeping me company, I started.

I started slowly, just to see what it would feel like, and at first, I didn’t even remember that Amber had told me about the animals she sometimes saw here. It didn’t occur to me until later that there could be big ones, wild ones that could tear me to pieces within seconds—and who was going to even hear me screaming?

Nobody, yet I kept going, looking up at the thick canopy that had stolen the view of the sky and the stars, and had gifted me with an even better one. A much darker one, but I could still somehow see. I could still make out the rough bark of the trees, and I touched them as I went. It felt incredible, like that simple touch connected me to the life inside those roots, and for that short second of contact we were one.

Then I saw the butterfly.

It was as big as the palm of my hand, white wings moving so gracefully, pulling in every ounce of light they could for themselves so that it looked like it was glowing.

I saw the pink fireflies, too. How strange. Amber had told me about it, but I hadn’treallybelieved her. I mean,pink fireflies?Impossible—yet I was smiling. There was no such thing, I knew that, but I was looking at a handful of them buzzing near a bush, and I was smiling.

The trees became fewer and farther apart the deeper Iwent. The fireflies seemed to be following me, even though they were afraid of me. Or maybeshy?Every time I tried to go closer, or if I even stopped and turned and watched them buzzing around one another for a moment, they flew farther away and sort ofhidbehind trees and leaves. No clue why that made me chuckle.

I must have walked for at least five minutes, slowly, following the wind and the sound of the ocean, and then I began to notice the small movements around the trees, too.

Animals. The animals Amber had told me about.

At first, I was afraid. I was terrified of the small movement, especially since I saw so little—but then the bush around the tree on my right moved, and out came a hedgehog.

An actual hedgehog was walking right there, barely five feet away from me.

Laughter burst out of me and I tried to catch it with my hands, sealed my mouth tightly with both of them, but the hedgehog heard. It heard and it started running back where it came from, behind the thick tree trunk and out of my sight in a second.

“No, no, wait!” I said, and I ran to catch him, but something else was moving on my left now, and it took me a second to realize they were hares. Three grey hares as big as cats were standing on their hind legs and they were watching me near a tree, ears perked up and their tiny noses moving as they sniffed the air.

“Oh! Hi, there,” I whispered in relief.Just hares.

They moved, too, but they didn’t run from me. Instead, they were coming toward me, slowly, hopping every couple steps. I lowered to my knees and tried not to make a single sound as to not spook them. It worked—they weren’t scared. On the contrary, they seemed to grow bolder and bolder the closer to me they came and realized I wasn’t going to hurt them.

Hares in the middle of a dark woods by the ocean at the back of Mama Si’s Paradise—and I couldn’t bring myself to think of how strange that sentence was, to be wary of the creatures approaching me, curiously sniffing me until they were close enough to touch. No, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with this at all, just reached out my hand and asked the hares:

“Mind if I pet you a little bit? Your fur looks so soft.”Soft and fuzzy and warm.

The hares didn’t answer—of course—but the one in the middle slowly leaned his head down, almost touching my knee in the process. I assumed that meantyes, so I lowered my hand on his back and I felt the tips of his fur against my palm. It was ticklish as fuck and I was giggling before I knew it.

I was giggling—right until I realized that his fur where I touched it had started to glow blue.

Every hair on my body suddenly stood at attention. The laughter got stuck in my throat, nearly suffocating me. My muscles locked, too, and I was stuck there with my hand on the hare’s back. He moved to the sides a bit as if to show me that wherever my hand had touched his fur, it glowed, like each strand was lit from within.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered when I found my voice and when I could move again to take my hand back.

Within seconds, the glow of his fur faded away.

His friends were basically on my lap now, too, their paws on my thighs, sniffing out my hands as if to say,touch me, too.

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