It was a beautiful baby, Melly said, and Doc Manner had complimented her and said it looked exactly like her, but Arnie looked at the baby in wonder. How could anyone see Melly in the baby girl? How could anyone say it was beautiful? It was wrinkled and cried a lot with its face all screwed up, eyes tightly closed, mouth open. It had a huge mouth he thought, filled with gums and not a single tooth in its head, like a big sucker fish down in Sparrow Lake. The arms were too short he thought, and too chubby, and not a single hair on its head. But Melly loved the baby and he dutifully complimented her on the beautiful child. He watched her breast feeding the baby. It was a beautiful sight even though the baby wasn't so beautiful.
"Whatchya gonna call it Melly?" he asked one day.
It was weeks before he got around to asking her. She had just called it "my baby girl".
Melissa frowned, just a little, a mock frown, as though she didn't really mean it.
"Arnie, don't say it. Say her. She's a beautiful baby girl and don't you call her it."
Arnie blushed and dropped his head onto his chest then looked up at Melissa. She was staring at him now, with a faraway look, her eyes twinkling.
"I don't know what to call her. Arnie, you give her a name."
Arnie shuddered at the thought, then pulled in his chin, stared at the ceiling, got to his feet and grunted several times. This required some thought and he would get it right. He hadn't expected this, but he would pick a name as beautiful as Melly. He started to pace back and forth, his hands tight behind his back.
"We-e-ell ... maybe, let's see, I had an aunt once, name of, let's see, Paula, yes, Paula."
Melissa screwed up her face, all pink and petite. Arnie immediately continued.
"Well, I don't really like that name, not a whole lot. But there's more names. My cousin, she was pretty and her name was ... was Cassandra."
He looked down at Melissa and smiled proudly. It was a beautiful name he thought. Would Melly like it? She laughed and whispered the name: Cassandra, Cassandra.
"Arnie, it's a beautiful name: Cassandra. A beautiful name for a beautiful baby."
"Cassandra Kumar. I like it, sounds just right -" began Arnie, looking at Melly, his face one big smile. He sat softly on the edge of the bed.
"No!" said Melissa sternly.
Arnie jumped. "But Melly, you said you liked the name, I jest thought -"
"We will call my baby Cassandra Brubacher," said Melissa, pausing for only a moment, "and you will be her father."
Arnie's jaw dropped, he stared at Melly for a while, then he began to grin, then he jumped up from the bed and began to laugh and dance.
"Cassandra Brubacher," he shouted, "Cassandra Brubacher! Cassandra Brubacher!"
Melissa held her baby closer and watched Arnie dancing.
Arnie Brubacher was a short man with short hair and short stubby hands and a sort of pushed in nose, but with a heart as big as Waterloo County and she loved him very much. He was sometimes foolish, sometimes silly, sometimes rash and impractical, but he was always gentle and kind. He had lived with her for nearly two months. She had told him the story of Joshua, his anger, how he had chased her barefoot across the snow-covered field, how he had dragged her to the willow tree and said she would drop her baby there.
Arnie had understood and had held Melissa close and whispered into her ear: he knew, Josh had a terrible temper. Melissa nodded her head. Yes, a terrible temper.
Then she told Arnie that Joshua had died in a fit of rage. Joshua's temper had killed him. Arnie understood. It was bound to happen one day.
Then she told him she had buried him under the willow tree. Arnie had been shocked, but he understood. He said he understood, but he had a strange look on his face, trying to imagine little Melly burying big old Josh.
Somehow Melissa suspected that Arnie Brubacher knew the truth, but the subject never came up, and they never mentioned Joshua's name again, and although she had said baby girls , once, some time ago, she never again mentioned a thing about twins.
April, 1904
The years went by quickly. The deep Winter snows were followed by Spring rains and Summer wild flowers in the fields. The aspen bush was bright and yellow each Fall and Arnie often hunted there, bringing home rabbit and deer. He was a good provider and kept the house in good repair, painting the woodwork over the arched windows and putting a coat of shellac on the massive oak door, every Fall, so the dampness of Spring wouldn't split the wood. He had even started to build a stone fence along the back with the boulders which covered the field. He could have used his horse to drag these huge rocks across the field, but he had to be content with carrying and dragging them himself. When he mentioned it to Doc Manner the good doctor warned him against doing a horse's work, but his horse had died last Winter. Nevertheless, he didn't mind. He didn't even mind walking to the mill, even on the coldest Winter mornings. He had sold his house and now lived with Melly and Cassandra. Melly would fill his lunch pail with apples from the root cellar and thick sandwiches of ham and goose fat, wedges of sharp cheddar cheese from Dundee and a large jug of hot black coffee wrapped in a thick towel to keep it warm.
Cassandra. She was almost nine and she was beautiful. Arnie wondered why he ever thought of her as an ugly baby. He was proud, a proud father of a beautiful young girl. He had asked Melly if she wanted a boy, but Melly just smiled and said that she was happy with her baby girl, no more children, not now, not ever. Arnie accepted that and loved Melly even more for her strong will and determination.
Melly always seemed to know what to do, what must be done, in every situation. Even when the back porch blew down during that storm in '98 and the wind blew furiously through the window, covering the kitchen in streaks of snow, Melly just grabbed the coffee pot and marched into the living room closing the door behind her and lit a fire and they sipped hot black coffee until the storm went away. She was a wonder.
Now it was Spring again and the crocuses were popping up in the garden and on the grass. Arnie was always amused when Melly painstakingly transplanted the crocuses each Summer to the garden. The next Spring they would still pop up everywhere - everywhere except by the willow tree.
***
It was Saturday and it was cool and Arnie was lying in the sun on the front porch. Melly was making an apple cake with the withered apples left in the root cellar from the Fall. She had let her hair grow just a little because Arnie liked it that way and she seemed determined to please him. Cassandra was playing under the willow tree as she always did, giggling and talking to her doll, a rag doll with eyes made of buttons.
Now be good... a good baby and you can have another cup of tea.
Arnie smiled. She was very like her mother, nothing at all like him. She was slim, almost thin, and her hair hung straight down her back to her waist. But her hair was dark, not like Melly's and not like his and that was strange. But she seemed always merry and full of energy. He talked to her rarely, just to scold her, sometimes, when he could tell that Melly wouldn't mind. Mostly Melly did the scolding, but not often. Now that he thought of it, even Melly didn't talk all that much to Cassandra. But they looked at each other a lot, and smiled as though they was talking without talking. They would smile at each other then Cassandra would go out and bring in some flowers for the table and they would smile again just like they was talking.
Willow will rock you to sleep, but you must be good.
It was strange, the attraction the girl had for the willow tree. Arnie tried to avoid the tree. It was now over 15 feet high. He thought of the body beneath it, in the cold ground, and he shivered. Somehow he thought only of a body, not of Josh. Somehow the memory of Josh kept getting dimmer. Somehow the story of how he, Arnie, came to live with Melly one Christmas eve, how the baby had come ... it was such a long time ago and his memory wasn't so good, but he knew one thing: he was the Pa in this family.
Now Willow, rock-a-bye-baby. That's it. Rock-a-bye-baby.
He had never seen a willow grow so quickly. It now dominated the side of the house and its branches hung to the ground. They weren't like any other willow he'd ever seen. The branches were gnarled and twisted and almost black with lots of tiny hairs which made it seem fuzzy in the morning light. Specially now, in the Spring, when the snow cover had melted and there weren't no leaves.
See baby? Willow loves you. See how Willow loves you?
Melly had asked him not to trim the tree, let it grow as large and ... and as ugly as it wished. Melly sometimes sat on the porch and watched Cassandra play under the branches, almost hidden by the drooping, gnarled and distorted branches. Arnie had objected once when Cassandra had climbed the lower branches, but Melly said it was all right, that the tree would not harm Cassandra, that the two of them got along very well, that the tree would look after the little girl. It sounded like Melly was talking about the tree as though it was a member of the family and, somehow, alive. Well, of course it was alive. He just meant, alive like a person was alive. That was real strange.
No Willow, you mustn't hold baby too tight. Baby will cry.
One day, maybe it was last Summer, Melly had asked Cassandra to come in for supper, but the little gal just stayed under the willow tree. Melly had scolded her and warned her that she would go to bed without supper if she didn't come at once, but Cassandra just stayed under the tree, hidden beneath the branches, gnarled and twisted. Arnie had got up from the table and went out the front door to get Cassandra. Then Melly had screamed and he had stopped just in front of the tree. Melly was standing on the porch, her face was red and she was shaking all over. Her whole body was shaking. She had insisted that Arnie come back to the table, at once, do not take another step, just come back, right away. He was surprised and had looked into the space between the trees. Cassandra was lying there, on her back, staring up into the branches of the tree. He had looked at Cassandra then at Melly then back to Cassandra again. Melly began to shout again and he went back into the house. It was strange. Melly was acting strange and Cassandra was acting strange, but Melly always had her way and he just ate his supper.
Cassandra didn't come into the house until it was dark. That was even stranger: Melly just smiled at Cassandra and Cassandra smiled at Melly and Cassandra just went to bed without her supper. Strange.
Willow! You stop that at once! Hear? Right this minute!
But there was something even stranger. When was it? Just a month ago, maybe. He asked Melly why Cassandra didn't play with the other girls. Just a mile down the road the Martins had three girls, about Cassandra's age. Their son was a little stupid, but Cassandra could play with him too.
"It's good to have friends, boy friends and girl friends," he had said, but Melly just smiled and answered: "Cassandra has her sister".
That one he didn't understand. He asked, "Her sister?" and stared, frowning, at Melly. She looked suddenly shocked and a bit flustered and explained. "Not sister, silly. Cassandra has her doll. Of course, Cassandra doesn't have a sister. Arnie, you're so silly."
That's what Melly said to him. Arnie, you're so silly. He thought about it since then. He was sure that Melly had said sister , but maybe he was wrong. Melly was hardly ever wrong.
Mommy! Mommy! Willow is killing baby! Mommy! Mommy!
Arnie jumped up and leaped over the porch railing. The branches of the willow were swaying violently. He lifted a branch, saw Cassandra looking up into the tree and tried to climb under the branch, but it threw him to the ground. He managed to crawl under and tried to grab Cassandra by the leg. He could hear Melly screaming on the porch. The branch was heavy on his back, but he managed to get a good hold on Cassandra's leg and he began to pull. Cassandra looked down at him and her eyes, they were shining, as though they were lit from inside. She didn't look like a 9-year-old. She was frowning. Her face was creased, every crease a dark line, and her eyes, glowing in the darkness beneath the tree. She raised her hands and the tree began to move. He could swear that the tree was movin'. He let go of her leg and tried to back out from under the tree. Melly was still screamin' at him. She wasn't screamin' at Cassandra or the tree, she was screamin' at him. He had almost got out from under the tree, one last push and he would be free. That was when the branch grabbed his hand. It spun around his hand like a snake, a black hairy coil, spiralling around his left hand. He tried to pull it away and Melly screamed again ... or was it Cassandra screaming? He didn't know, he just heard the screams. He could feel the bones snap in his hand, could feel the hand being crushed. The pain was unbearable, sharp, shooting pains that exploded in his hand and spiralled up his arm.
He was screaming. He couldn't see straight, things were blurry.
Cassandra? Was that her under the tree, smiling?
Then everything went black.
***
It was Doc Manner who told him about the hand. There was nothing much left, just five limp fingers of skin, bones crushed to powder. It could have been worse. It was his left hand. That was good. He was right-handed. It was at the wrist too. The rest of his arm was okay. The good doctor warned him about carrying those big boulders and piling them on the stone fence. He should have gotten some help from one of the Martins. Dropping a rock on his hand, that was really stupid. That's work for a horse. Arnie didn't know how Doc Manner got that story, but he wasn't about to explain.
When he got home from the hospital, Melly and Cassandra had prepared a party, just for him. On the table was a huge hot apple cake and a jug of red wine that Melly had bought at the market. One large piece of cake had been cut and was sitting, hot and steaming on a plate. They sat him down and watched gleefully as he ate. Cassandra jumped up and down and giggled and carried on so, that Melly had to tell her to sit and drink her milk and eat her cake. It wasn't until much later, after Cassandra had kissed them both and gone to bed, that Arnie had a chance to talk to Melly about the tree.
"Ain't no use arguin' Melly. I'm gonna cut down that ol' tree. Did you see that?" Arnie held up his left hand wrapped in a soft white towel, unwrapped it and held up the strands of skin. "That's what I get fer leavin' that tree stand."
Melissa put her hand on the stump and pushed it onto his lap, then she slowly wrapped it again in the towel, smiling and shaking her head all the time. Arnie stared at her. How could she smile? He could have lost his whole arm. It could have been his right hand. Then what?
"Arnie, you silly thing," said Melly softly. "It weren't the tree that did that. Don't you know? You were so brave, trying to save Cassandra's doll. But when the branch fell down, you remember, it was loose, too much snow over Winter ... I kept telling you, can't have too much snow on the willow. It isn't a strong tree, a willow. Why it just fell right on your hand. Cassandra cried and I cried too. When you were in the hospital we both took that old branch out back and burned it."
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then she kissed the stumpy towel on his wrist. Arnie was dumbfounded. Was he dreaming? Maybe he had dreamed it. Melly was always right about these things. Surely he had dreamed it all. A tree that tried to - to - it was silly, he was silly. Melly was right.
Arnie smiled and Melly kissed him again.
***
Upstairs in her bedroom Cassandra looked out the window. The branches were leaning against the glass, swaying, and she could just make out the moon through the black coils. Some of the top branches still had leaves, small and thin, left over from last Fall. She placed her small hand against the window and several branches spun upward, pushing against the glass. She smiled and her eyes shone in the moonlight and the branches tapped gently against the window.
CHAPTER 5
August, 1908
Arnie was napping on the front porch when Melissa brought him a cool drink. She hated to wake him up. He had spent most of the day cutting wood, fixing the shed out back, repairing the stone fence, feeding the hogs and building the barn. It was almost three months since he had quit his job at the mill. A one-handed worker wa
s little good to the mill, yet they had kept him on until he just upped and quit. Then he had started hog farming. Pork was getting a good price and they'd been able to buy another horse and a small wagon. Arnie swore he'd finish the barn before the Winter snows and had worked 15 hours a day. He rested only rarely and when he did, Melissa knew he was exhausted.
She sat on the bench and waited for him to wake up.
Cassandra was playing under the willow tree, as usual. She had spent much of the Summer hidden under the giant branches of the tree. Soon it would be Winter and somehow that saddened the young girl.
Melissa could hear her daughter talking, reading from a small book of poems:
Summer sunset, Autumn dawn
Songbirds swarm, and then are gone.
And yet you stand O willow tree
As Winter comes upon the lea.
And still you stand with head held low
amid the winds and winter snow.
Whither Willow?
Whither Willow?
Chad Martin came running across the field.
"Hello Mrs. Kumar! Is Cassy here?"
"Wait just a minute, Chad. She'll be out in a minute."
Arnie opened his eyes and Melissa handed him the drink. He sat up, smiled a weary smile and sipped it slowly. Chad sat on the stairs of the porch, waiting.
"Nice day, don't you think, Chad?" said Melissa.
"Yup."
"How's your mother and father, good I hope?"
"Yup."
"And your sisters?"
"Yup, good."
Chad sat on his hands, then leaned forward, then leaned backward, then slipped his hands out from under his butt and ruffled his curly red hair.
"Mrs. Kumar? When is Cassy coming out? Is she with Willow?"
"Yes, Chad. Wait a little longer. Patience is a virtue."
Melissa walked to the end of the porch and looked into the tree.
"Cassandra? Chad is here."
There was a moment of silence, then, "Tell him to come in."
Melissa stood for a second, staring into the tree. That was the first time that Cassandra had invited someone under her willow tree.