I went up in a balloon once with my sisters and we watched the sun roll across the horizon, clouds going red and pink, colors swirling around us in a mist. I shouldn’t be thinking about that anymore, because flight is over. Some people in this town say the more thoughts you have about flight the worse February haunts you. And then there’s the priests, who have locked away believers of flight someplace at the edge of town. But that’s just a dumb rumor. Could be true, though. If given the chance, I’d break open the skull of February. I’d swing a nice big bucket of sap right into the side of his head and watch the ice of his mind explode like confetti.
Last night everyone in town dreamed the clouds fell apart like wet paper in their hands.
Six Reports from the Priests
1. The Solution attempted to fly today.
2. They failed.
3. To hell with February, one member shouted. The rest cheered. They are a loud bunch. They wear bird masks. They throw apples through clouds.
4. The balloon collapsed on one side. The flames shot up. The flames spilled out and crawled across the field and up the birch trees, where flightless birds burned.
5. The snow continues to fall.
6. There has been talk of a war.
When Thaddeus arrived home he told Selah about a war against February. She bathed Bianca in mint water, ran a cloth in circles around her back.
I don’t know if a war will help anything, she said.
It’s the Solution, said Thaddeus. They have nothing to lose. I don’t know. It’s something we should consider. For her sake. He tilted his head toward Bianca.
Come, said Selah, and Thaddeus followed her voice as if the word were a hook thrown from the bathwater.
He knelt down beside the tub and placed his face in the mint water. Bianca felt him close to her back. The water rose to her chin. She remembered what it was like to swim in the river with June. The drain in the tub was a fish biting her toe. Thaddeus held his face in the water long enough for the mint to be fully absorbed into his beard.
There, said Selah tugging upward with a fistful of Thaddeus’s hair.
Water poured from his beard. Thaddeus walked into the kitchen and made a cup of tea, then went back into the bathroom. He watched his wife continue to bathe Bianca. He made sure to tip the teacup high enough when he sipped so that Bianca could see the balloon painted on the bottom.
Bianca whispers into the bathwater.
Maybe the priests aren’t really priests. Look at the way their silly robes move.
I want to be safe. I want to live inside a turtle shell.
Thaddeus tugs on his beard.
A little mint water drips on his palm. He rubs his hands together. He walks into Bianca’s bedroom and soothes her arms and legs with his hands. The idea is that any sadness that occurs during sleep can be decreased by infusing mint into the skin, into the lungs and heart. Thaddeus and Selah take turns, applying the mint throughout the night.
Before daybreak, Thaddeus smells honey and smoke coming from Bianca’s bedroom.
In her room he notices that the window is open and snow is blowing in.
He throws the covers off the bed.
He looks around the room.
He looks under the bed.
He looks in the closet.
He looks in the hallway.
He looks at his feet.
He looks at the bed. He looks at the bed.
Bianca’s bed is a mound of snow and teeth.
Bianca is gone.
Thaddeus
I’ve been spending more time alone on the hill. I can’t remember it being colder than it is now. The ground is frozen and black, the town windows webbed in snow and ice. When I spark a fire from found branches a snowball falls from the sky and douses the flame. I look up at the sky, the gray waves rolling along. I am growing tired and sad at the disappearance of my daughter and it stirs deep inside me. I snap off a tree branch. I whirl it around in huge circles before letting it fly skyward.
It flies up, much higher than I imagined, and, climbing higher and higher, it rips through a cloud’s leg, peaks in flight, then descends again, tearing another hole through the shoulder of a cloud.
In the first hole, there’s a pair of feet dangling from the edge. In the second hole, there’s a man walking around a dark room. I call down to the house for Selah who is shaking out Bianca’s bedsheet, which disintegrates into a little blizzard.
Am I dreaming right now, I shout. Can you check the bed to see if I’m sleeping.
No, you’re not dreaming, she yells back after going inside to check our bed. You’re standing outside by yourself with your thoughts. Your daughter has been kidnapped and your thoughts are torturing you. Sometimes you wake in the middle of the night from terrible dreams, but right now you are awake.
I watch the two holes in the sky until a new breaking of gray rolls across.
My mind is ice.
Selah yells, I want our daughter back.
Deer run against the edge of the woods. Twisted through their antlers is a long quilt, a banner. The quilt says, WAR AGAINST FEBRUARY NOW WAR AGAINST FEBRUARY NOW WAR AGAINST FEBRUARY NOW. The Solution waves from under the pine trees. A man is collecting sap.
I hesitate but wave back.
Thaddeus to Bianca
I climb on the roof. Your bedroom is beneath me. I close one eye and reach my hand out and tear open the horizon. I pull the sky up and toward me like old wallpaper. I see you sleeping in a bed of duck feathers. I close both eyes and finish the dream of us in a balloon. The new sky smells like the ocean. It feels like crushed velvet when you push against it to send the balloon toward your mother waiting on the hill.
Questions
Thaddeus asks the children twisting the heads of owls if they have seen a small girl named Bianca in yellow pajamas. The three children sit against an oak tree with their legs stretched out, snow as a blanket to their waists.
Do the yellow pajamas have flowers printed at the hem, asks the middle child.
Yes, Thaddeus says.
Does the little girl have dark hair that smells of honey and smoke, asks the child to the left.
Thaddeus shakes his head. No, he thinks, she never smelled of honey and smoke. But the room did. Yes, the room.
The room smelled of honey and smoke. Bianca has dark hair. Her hair doesn’t smell of honey and smoke, but the room did.
Does the little girl have a drawing of kites on her hands and arms, asks the child to the right.
Yes, says Thaddeus. Her mother painted those kites. Where is my daughter. What has happened to my daughter.
The children go back to concentrating on twisting the heads of the owls.
No, we haven’t seen her, they say.
I don’t understand, though, you said, Thaddeus says. Now, if you don’t mind, sir, we are much enjoying ourselves by playing with these owls. I hope you find the little girl. She sounds very cute and very beautiful.
For the rest of the day Thaddeus asks every person in town if they have seen his daughter. Everyone says no. The Solution walks past Thaddeus.
We could help, they say, smiling.
The one with the blue bird mask hands Thaddeus an apple, apologizes, then runs to catch up to the group.
Selah and Thaddeus don’t sleep for several days, in which they decide that a war against February is needed to cure their sadness. They invite the Solution to their home, who talk for hours on strategy to destroy February. When they drink their tea, they lift up their bird masks to expose their blue-wintered lips. Thaddeus tries not to cry when a yellow bird passes him a list of missing children and asks Thaddeus to please add Bianca’s name where there is room. He reads the list over. His eyes fill with tears. He writes down Bianca’s name.