Josh's Blog

A sudden flash of light and heat struck Beelo in the face. He blinked and held his hand up. The light was soft, like the amber rays from the second setting of the sun but he had been in darkness for so long that it burned his eyes as if he looked into the sky at noon. The heat was nearly as powerful as the light. The warm air pushed against the hand Beelo held in front of his face and he could feel it bringing feeling back to his extremities. With feeling came pain and his fingers felt as if pricked by a hundred needles.

Beelo realized he was on his knees. He hadn’t noticed it until he felt hands under his arms and he looked up to see Kintu. He watched as she struggled to drag him through the doorway. Disoriented, Beelo felt like a child. His mind reeled and he was suddenly very little. He had fallen asleep in the living room while his father talked to his uncle. This happened often. Every time, Beelo would awaken slightly to the feeling of being lifted by someone larger and stronger as his father carried him up the stairs to bed.

Kintu managed to pull Beelo up to the entry way and she propped him up against the wall. Since she was no longer holding open the door, it slid shut with little noise until a solid click sounded from the latches as they were driven into place by the door’s mechanisms.

Kintu knelt in front of her husband and reached up to push the hood back and remove his mask. The hide was frozen stiff and would not move. Kintu went to work undoing the toggles that held the coat closed. After the last fastener was free, she opened the front and carefully slid the frozen shell from off of his shoulders. Beelo’s arms came free and fell lifelessly to his sides. She reached up and carefully lifted the mask from Beelo’s face. She felt resistance and realized the mask adhered to Beelo’s face and hair with frozen sweat and exhaled moisture.

“You were out much too long, my love,” Kintu said. Her voice cracked with a mixture of relief and worry.

Beelo squinted against the light and winced. The pins and needles of the awakened nerve endings mingled with the pain from the skin and hair that were pulled off with the mask. He had never been so tired. The effort required to hold his head up became too much and his chin slumped to his chest. Beelo’s eyelids dropped slowly and he began to snore.

Beelo awoke to the gentle sound of someone humming. He opened his eyes slowly and he was greeted by the dim light of his fireplace. All the other lights in the room were extinguished. In the glow of the firelight, he could see Tara in the rocking chair. She watched him, expressionless and motionless.

Beelo took a deep breath, the scent of tea and flowers filled his nostrils. He felt something brush his face like a fragrant feather. He looked up to see Kintu’s face framed with her long, bronze hair. Her mouth smiled as she continued to hum but her eyes were filled with worry and ringed with red from crying and lack of sleep.

Beelo looked down and noticed he lay on their couch. Kintu had a pillow on her lap where Beelo’s head rested. There was two heavy blankets over him and Kintu ran her slender fingers through his scruffy hair. Beelo tried to sit up but Kintu put a gentle hand on his chest.

“Please,” she said. “Rest here some more. Everything is okay, we are all safe now.”

Beelo let his head sink back into the pillow and Kintu resumed stroking his hair. Beelo listened to the humming and the whispering sound of the fireplace.

The next time Beelo opened his eyes, the living room was more brightly lit. The sun had risen. In Beelo’s doma, there were special ducts that ran from the upper branches to each living space. The top of the duct was fitted with a glass dome that collected light. The inside of each duct was polished to a mirror shine. The bottom end of each duct ended in a glass bulb filled with water and shiny metallic flakes, which scattered the sunlight over the room. The effect eliminated the need for candles or lanterns in the day time and made the doma feel open and airy.

This innovation was one of Kintu’s ideas. She and Beelo were due to help build some of these ducts for other domas this summer. Early last fall, Beelo and his brother made measurements and took careful notes so the right amount of materials could be obtained and some of the work could be prefabricated.

Beelo carefully sat up. The muscles in his back and shoulders ached. He tried to lift his hands to rub his eyes, but the weight of his arms was too much. Instead, he scrunched his eyes shut and blinked rapidly to displace the sleepy film that made everything blurry. The room was so quiet that Beelo thought it was empty. However, as his eyes cleared he could see Tara. She still sat in the rocking chair. She still watched him with a blank expression.

Beelo managed to sit up straight and stretch his aching back. Some of the strength returned to his shoulders and he managed to lift his arms above his head to continue the stretch. He yawned and looked around. Kintu was nowhere to be seen. Neither were the children.

Beelo stood on shaky legs. He took a halting step forward, then turned to look at the door. The two automatic latches were closed, but the third one was not. The third latch could only be done manually from the inside. He shifted his gaze to the coat hooks next to the doorway. One of them was always empty, since it used to hold his brother’s coat. Only this time, both hooks were empty.

“She waited for you.”

Beelo was so surprised to hear the words, his head spun around to see who spoke. The pain in his neck and shoulders was so intense he nearly had to sit down.

“She waited for you,” Tara said. “I thought you were gone. Gone like Baro. I told her you were gone. She didn’t believe me.”

Her words were toneless. Each phrase was spoken as if someone were reciting a list.

“She waited for you,” Tara continued. “I’ve been waiting, too. For Baro. But he is gone.”

Beelo opened his mouth to say something in return but he was interrupted by a noise. Someone tapped twice on the small window and then three times on the heavy, wooden door.

For the Téchni, each season was dedicated to specific activities. Spring was for taking stock of things damaged by the winter wind and snows. Summers were for repair and for building new things. Autumn was for installing newly built things and otherwise preparing the domas for the cold. Winter was for sitting by the fire, sleeping in, and hunting big game.

When the snow deepened in the mountains, deer and elk would roam through the foothills into the forests in search of food. Lapinas, too, would head for lower elevations trees and shrubs had any leaves for the furry ungulates to eat. This migration brought animals close enough that the Téchni hunters could venture out for the day and use their finely-built bows and arrows to take down large animals. During the rest of the year, the only animals in the forest were squirrels or ground hogs. There was not much meat on them and their small hides were only good for children’s clothing, gloves, or moccasins.

Beelo hiked from the meadow to his doma and towed the carcass behind him. There was only fifteen minutes until sunset. Waiting so long for the beast to be in the perfect position took longer than he had expected. In fact, Beelo nearly gave up for the day before he found his quarry. Coming home late and walking in the dark was a risk, but bagging a lapina was worth it.

Only the best hunters were patient, quiet, and skilled enough to take down the large furry beasts and bringing one home was a cause for celebration and a source of pride. The lapina were not only prized because of the difficulty in taking one down. They were also valuable because their hides were used to make the special coats worn by the Téchni. The coats they wore while hunting and while watching for slinks. The skin was strong, but supple when prepared correctly. The fur, which was sewn on the inside of the coat, protected the wearer from the cold and kept their body heat inside, safe from detection by slinks and other animals with heat-sight.

Beelo trudged across the snow, accompanied by the soft scraping of the sled behind him. The only other sound was the occasional breeze as it whistled through the pine boughs. Beelo crested a rise which divided the range of evergreens from the deciduous forest of the willow and doma trees. The top of the rise was rocky and barren, which meant Beelo had to steer the sled around sharp stones that could tear the doma leaf sled and endanger his cargo.

It was as he steered around one such rock that Beelo heard a faint sound above the wind. He stopped walking and when the the sound of his sled and snowshoes ceased, Beelo was astonished by the oppressive silence. The wind gusted gently and he heard the sound again. It was a haunting wail, barely audible as if it had traveled a great distance to reach Beelo’s ears. Beelo lifted his mask and lowered his hood to better listen. Beelo strained his hearing and concentration. He felt compelled to identify the sound and from where it came. He realized he was trying to so hard to be quiet that he was had not breathed for a while. He felt  lightheaded. Beelo took a few deep breaths and was about to put his hood back up when he heard it again.

The plaintive, heartrending moan was louder this time but as it came to an end, there seemed to be a finality about it. Whatever the source, this was the last sound the creature would ever make. Beelo had at first tried to dismiss the sound as having come from an animal. Perhaps it was a wounded elk, disabled from a fight or a fall, which laid there and called out in pain. But Beelo knew the sounds of elk and the other animals of the forest and surrounding foothills. That wail did not come from an animal.

The alternative sent a chill through Beelo. He knew that if he followed barren ridge line of this rise to the west, it would lead him to the craggy hills the Téchni called Terramort. The dead lands. Rocky bluffs, cliffs, and caves spread for miles. There was no fresh water, no trees, and hardly any life. No life except the slinks. It was in this jagged, inhospitable landscape where the slink found shelter from the sun. It was to this dark, dangerous land they dragged their victims.

Another chill ran through Beelo’s core. The sky was much darker and the disk of the sun had almost completely disappeared behind Maternas. The horizon was a deep, reddish orange and Beelo knew he had only about five more minutes until all light would be gone. He had at least an hour’s hike before he reached the first of the doma trees and at least another hour before he came to his own tree.

He pulled up his hood and replaced the mask over his face. He checked his grip on the rawhide strap and set a quicker pace than before.

After an hour and a half, Beelo passed through a row of willow trees. Since the sun had set, the only light he had was from the stars. The Téchni had keen eyes and starlight on a cloudless winter night was just powerful enough that a keen-eyed hunter could avoid obstacles and see the outline of a tree a few paces away.

With some sadness, Beelo remembered a hunting trip a few years ago. He and his brother had spent all day stalking a pair of lapinas and were starting to run out of daylight. Baro was worried they would not find their way home in the dark and Beelo bragged he could find his way home from anywhere in the valley with his eyes closed. The two brothers made it home a full hour after sunset, but they had a cloudless sky of stars and a the light of a half moon to help them.

This night, the stars peeked furtively through the clouds. There was no moon. Beelo could have walked with his eyes closed for all the good the wan starlight did him. Branches swiped at his masked face and his snowshoes kept getting caught on the limbs of snowbound trees. He trudged on, relying more on instinct than eyesight. When he passed through one more grove of willows, Beelo was confronted with a familiar shape.

The vague outline of the trees that made his doma was unmistakable. Relief washed over Beelo and he suddenly felt the fatigue he had ignored all night. Although he was close to home, he still needed to stow the lapina carcass and climb to his door. It would take all his remaining energy to make it that far and still have the will to knock.

Beelo took a deep breath and trudged towards his home.

Winter

Beelo took a deep breath. As he exhaled, he carefully released the string of his bow and sent and arrow sailing across the meadow. From Beelo’s point of view, it looked less like he shot the arrow at the lapina and more like the arrow was drawn to the furry creature. The arrow flew across the snow, destined for a spot near the base of the skull. Beelo didn’t have to watch to know the arrow would find its target. Yet he didn’t take his eyes off of the animal. He waited and almost hoped the lapina would bolt at the last second. The precision with which a Téchni arrow was fired made it almost unfair. There was no way for it to know, but the creature was already dead as it stood there and chewed on a piece of bark.

Just as Beelo knew it would, the arrow pierced the back of the neck, just under the skull. The multi-bladed arrowhead severed the spinal cord lodged into the windpipe before stopping. There was almost no sound. The lapina’s head jerked forward with the transfer of energy from arrow to animal and then it’s front legs buckled. The powerful rear legs held the rump in the air for a few seconds before they too failed and the rear end of the animal fell sideways into the snow.

Beelo continued to watch from where he hid, crouched behind a winterberry bush and braced against the trunk of an evergreen tree. He counted to twenty. In the middle of winter, there were animals who would see prey fall and take advantage of the easy meal. Beelo’s arrows were perfect for hunting lapina, but next to useless against one of the huge mountain lions or the rare but dangerous sylvan wolf.

Beelo stood and began to make his way across the snow to claim his furry prize. His boots were strapped into snowshoes made from woven willow branches and held in place with strips of waterproof leather and brass buckles. With the snowshoes on, Beelo trod on the top of the piled snow, not unlike the lapina he hunted. Without the snowshoes, he would find himself buried to his chest in snow.

When he reached the body, Beelo crouched once again, set the bottom end of his bow into the snow, and began to extract the arrow from the animal’s neck. He pushed the arrowhead the rest of the way through the trachea, then unscrewed the tip from the shaft. With the broad-head removed, Beelo was able to pull the shaft backwards and free from the wound. He used snow to wash the blood from both pieces, reassembled the arrow, and slipped it into the quiver behind his right shoulder.

Beelo reached behind him with his left hand and found the handle of his hunting knife. The knife sat in a sheath attached to the lower end of his quiver. The blade was held in place with friction and came free of its resting place with proper force. He handed the blade to his right hand and went to work. The carcass was field dressed in very little time. Beelo’s expert hands and the razor-sharp blade meant minimal damage to the hide and no taint to the meat or edible organs caused by an accidental puncture to one of the lapina’s stomachs.

Beelo dug a hole in the snow and pushed the offal into it. He used snow to wash the inside of the carcass, pushing the bloody snow into the hole and covering it with with clean snow. He then packed more clean snow inside the body cavity along with the liver, kidneys, and heart. He used a long rawhide thong to tie the carcass closed. He gripped the remaining length of the rawhide and began to tow the lapina’s body back to the hiding spot by the evergreen tree.

Next to the tree and the behind the winterberry bush, Beelo had left a small sled made from a doma leaf that had been shellacked and braced with a framework of willow branches. He laid the sled on top of the body, then rolled the whole thing over so the smooth surface of the leaf would ride across the snow. The effort of dressing and towing the carcass to the sled was considerable. The dressed weight of the average lapina was almost that of an adult Téchni. Beelo was sweating under his coat.

Beelo stood for a moment, propped against the tree, and opened his coat a little. The wind ripped through his coat and blew the warm air out from around Beelo’s body. While it was much too cold outside to worry about catching the notice of a slink, Beelo’s special coat masked his smell as much as it did his body heat. The big cats and wolves didn’t have heat-sight but they relied relied heavily on scent and sound to find prey in the forest.

Beelo fastened closed his coat and looked at the horizon. There was no moon tonight and the sun would be set in an hour. It would take at least that long to get home. To make matters worse, it was the middle of winter, which meant the sun would set and stay down instead of coming back for another period of daylight. Beelo needed to hurry if he didn’t want to do that last stretch of his hike in complete darkness.

The valley in which the Téchni lived was south-east of a massive mountain they called Maternas, the great mother. The mountain’s position between the valley and the horizon put it in the path of the sun as it headed toward the western horizon. On the equinox of spring and fall, the sun would pass behind the middle of the mountain with about fifteen to twenty minutes of near darkness until it reappeared. It would then set for the night an hour and a half later. In height of summer, the sun would just barely dip behind Maternas’ peak and tinge the sky with an orange hue as it did. In the dead of winter, the sun would set behind Maternas’ eastern slope and would not be seen again until morning, except for the faintest glimmer of twilight which the Téchni called “mother’s goodnight kiss.”

Beelo placed his quiver and bow in the sled, next to the body of the lapina. He draped the rawhide strap over his right shoulder and began to pull the sled across the snow, away from the meadow and toward the deep forest where evergreens gave way to willow and doma.

Beelo woke in his bed. He dripped sweat and his heart pounded in his chest. He sat up and looked around. He was confused at first, then felt relieved to be safe in his bed. Then came the sadness as Beelo remembered he would never see his brother again. Sadness to think that Tara would never be the cheerful, talkative person she was before that evening’s watch.

Beelo swung his legs over the side of the bed. Kintu snored softly and rolled over, pulling the blanket and sheets to her side of the bed. There would be no more sleep for Beelo tonight. He put on a long shirt and made his way down to the main floor. He decided to make a cup of tea to clear his head. Afterward, maybe he could lie down next to Kintu until it was time to wake up and get ready for the day.

When he reached the living room, Beelo saw that Tara was awake. She stared at him from the rocking chair.

“He is gone,” she said. Those were the only words she said anymore.

“Yes,” Beelo said. “He is gone.”

Beelo put a brass pot with a varnished wooden handle into the wash basin. He reached towards a brass spigot that jutted from a pipe on the wall and lifted a stop valve. Cold, clean water flowed from the tap into the pot. Beelo released the ceramic handle of the stop and the weight of it seated the valve tightly which caused the water to stop. Beelo carried the pot to the stove and placed it on a flat surface next to the flume. He dipped his finger into the water and he felt the icy cold cut through his flesh like a knife. He took a step back to watch the flames dance behind the amber glass set into the front of the stove wile he waited for the water to heat up.

Beelo’s grandfather and great uncle were master craftsman. The two brothers built efficient and beautiful stoves, doors, and sinks. Their metalwork and glazing were the centerpiece of many domas and Beelo’s father often spoke of how proud he was to see grandfather’s handiwork in the homes of people he visited.

Beelo’s father was industrious as well. He specialized in valves and mechanisms powered by springs or pneumatic and hydraulic pressure. The latching mechanism on the main door of Beelo’s doma tree was an example of his father’s command of art and science. Opening the door was nearly effortless because of precision hinges with a pneumatic counterweight hidden in the jamb. Unless the door was held open, it swung shut under power of compressed air. As the door closed, some of the pneumatic power was used to automatically seat a heavy latch. The effect was such that anyone could open the door from inside with little effort and anyone leaving the doma could be confident the people inside were safe.

Another innovation designed by Beelo’s father was a pump that used the heat of the stove and the rising air inside the chimney to feed vaporized sap from the doma tree into the firebox. The stove could be started with a small fire of a few sticks and then would burn indefinitely on the liquid fuel. A small valve controlled how much power was fed into the mechanism from the chimney and could be used to control the temperature. A special pipe fed deep into the trunk of one of the trees that formed the doma supplied enough sap to warm Beelo’s home and to cook in the oven.

The sap from the doma trees was quite flammable when in a liquid form. Beelo inherited his father and grandfather’s ingenuity and had made use of the doma sap to design the powerful incendiary devices used to drive away slinks. The sap was mixed with a liquid made from fermented and distilled grain which formed a sticky gel. This was encased in a thin ceramic ball. A dark gray paste, made from crystals found in nearby caves, was carefully painted on the outside of the ball. This chemical was known to burn at the slightest spark and was covered by a two-piece ceramic shell which was glued together. The outer shell was specially made with minerals that spark when struck. A special paint applied to the outside prevented accidental ignition.

The combination created a portable device that was very stable, light enough to be thrown, but dense enough to have momentum to break on impact. When the outer shell cracked, it created a spark that ignited the chemical painted on the inner shell, which in turn set flame to the gelatinous sap from the inner shell. The resulting fire was hot and burned for a long time. The gel was very sticky and impossible to wipe off. The blaze was the perfect weapon against the slinks and Beelo spent a good part of each summer making them for his own supply and to arm the rest of his tribe.

Beelo’s tribe of tree dwellers called themselves the Téchni. Each family held the responsibility to make something useful for the whole tribe. Someone in need of anything they couldn’t build themselves would find it provided by another member of the tribe. It was the pride of the Téchni that each doma had everything necessary to keep the inhabitants warm, safe, and fed. Summers were spent in collaborative work. Adults would craft or repair with assistance of older children. Some would gather food or raw materials as well as hunt for game. Younger children were looked after and taught by older adults whose fingers or eyes were no longer strong enough for work. The young people learned history, art, and science from their elders and formed a deep connection with their teachers.

A noise broke Beelo from his thoughts and he tore his eyes away from the flames. The pot of water boiled and droplets spattered as they fell onto the hot stove. Beelo took the wooden handle in hand and carried the pot to the counter. He placed the pot on ceramic potholder and dropped two brown spheres into the steaming water. The spheres absorbed the water and expanded. Two leaves uncurled from the round objects and a small blossom inside opened up like a budding flower. The water took on a light brown color and the scent of the tea was carried into the air.

Beelo closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. He let the smell of the tea push away the remnants of his nightmare. He opened his eyes and took two ceramic mugs from a cupboard next to the basin. He deftly ladled tea from the pot into each mug, careful so that the leaves and blossoms remained in the pot. He picked up a mug in each hand, and carried one to Tara. She took it without looking and held it near her chest.

Beelo watched as the steam rose past Tara’s face and caused the wisps of hair above her forehead to curl. He turned his eyes back to the fire and drank his tea in silence.

With about an hour left until sunrise, Beelo returned to bed. He curled up behind Kintu and put his hand on her waist. He laid there and listened to the soft noises she made while she slept and and he enjoyed the scent of her hair until sunrise.

A scream woke Beelo. He was startled to find himself in the rocking chair in the main room. He blinked and looked around and heard another scream, this time louder and closer.

Beelo bolted for the front door. Both of the coat hooks next to the door were empty. He undid the latches and furiously pushed the door open.

The last notes of Tara’s scream still echoed between the trees and the nearby hills. Beelo could smell smoke and when he followed the scent out into the limbs of the tree, the scent grew stronger. It was the familiar smell of burning pitch tainted with the stench of burning hair and flesh.

Beelo ran along the large branch and peered through the thinning leaves of his tree, most of which were yellow, red, and brown with the changing of the seasons. Today was the 4th day of autumn. Beelo had been on watch with his brother Baro the last three evenings. Earlier, as they prepared to go outside for the watch, Baro suggested that Tara take Beelo’s place. Members of either sex were expected to take turns at the watch, as with any job or role in their society. Beelo accepted their offer and had dozed in the rocking chair.

Still following the burning scents, Beelo jumped down to a lower limb and down to another. One more jump and he’d be on the forest floor. He was about to leap when he saw Tara. She was buried her to her chest in doma leaves. Beelo realized she must be on her knees and that is when he heard her sobbing. A few feet away from her was an oblong patch of burning leaves. The smoke curled up in to the half-defoliated branches above before disappearing into the fog above.

Beelo leaped to the ground. His fall was cushioned by the pile of fallen leaves. He walked carefully towards Tara. His hand went instinctively to where the pocket of his coat should be and Beelo became suddenly aware of his situation. He was totally exposed to the elements and radiated heat like a beacon to any beast that might still be nearby. And he was completely unarmed.

Tara’s shoulders shook with sobs and her head was bowed. The hide of her coat was the color of the bare branches of the doma tree with streaks that looked like moss. If she was in the limbs of their tree, she would be nearly invisible. However, where she knelt in the leaves she stuck out like a tree stump. Beelo was relieved to see that her breath wasn’t clouding around her and figured she must have kept her mask on or put it back after screaming.

Beelo scanned the forest floor and peered into the branches of the trees. He couldn’t see any other movement. There were no enemies to be seen but there was no sight of his brother either.

Beelo arrived at Tara’s back and gently placed his hand on her shoulder as he crouched behind her. She startled and fell to the side. She kicked her feet at Beelo and began to scramble away before she realized who he was. She looked into Beelo’s eyes and pulled her hood back. The mask slid from her face and her shuddering breath came out in puffy clouds of steam.

“Th-th-there were two of them,” she stuttered.

“Two?”

Tara nodded her head and pointed at the smoking ground where the burning had died down and the leaves simply smoldered and smoked.

“Baro…”, Tara started before she lost her words to another series of sobs.

“Where is Baro?”

“He saved me,” she shook her head. “The coat was too big, the mask wasn’t fitting well and my breath would sometimes come out. We didn’t think it was a big deal, being so early in the season. But one was waiting for me, clinging to the underside of a tree branch. It grabbed me and took me to the ground.”

Beelo knew too well what had grabbed Tara. His people called them slinks. Tara took a few panicked breaths. Reliving the ordeal brought back her panic and Beelo grew anxious about the clouds of steamy breath that lingered above their heads. Their combined heat would bring trouble from miles away if they didn’t return to the tree soon.

Beelo stood and held out his arm for Tara to take his hand. However her gaze was held by the smoldering leaves and didn’t see.

“Baro tossed a blaze at the one which held me in his jaws. The light and the heat were incredible and I was stunned. The creature rolled in the leaves, the smell was horrible but I couldn’t move. Baro pulled off his hood to call to me, to get me to run.”

Tara turned to look at Beelo’s hand. At first she appeared not to know what she should do, then she took it and pulled herself to her feet. Beelo held his sister-in-law by the shoulders to keep her from falling back to her knees.

“The second one was above him. It dropped on Baro and they both fell to the ground. The first beast was no longer aflame and he grabbed Baro by the leg. Together the creatures dragged him away. All I could do was scream.”

“Can you walk,?”

Tara nodded.

Beelo held the shaken woman’s hand and guided her to the trunk of the nearest tree. He boosted Tara up to a series of hand-holds designed to look like fungus. She furtively climbed to the first tree limb and stood there, waiting.

Beelo climbed onto that lower limb and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Careful not to startle Tara, he reached into her coat and grabbed a round earthenware ball. He turned his body to throw the blaze at the slink that was only three or four feet behind Tara.

The beast drew back onto its hind legs, ready to pounce as Beelo threw the blaze. The ball struck the slink in the chest, just below its throat and cracked like an egg. A burst of light and heat made the animal curl back and fall away into the air below them. Tara stumbled and landed on her backside, lucky to stay atop the tree limb.

But Beelo was not so lucky. The momentum from throwing the blaze carried him off his feet and he fell, facing up with his body parallel to the ground. Time seemed to slow, which gave Beelo time to watch Tara spin away from him. He turned to look at his left arm, which slowly rotated as he flailed for a branch to grab on to, his fingers ready to wrap around any branch that came into reach.

Only a few feet past Beelo’s grasping fingers was the slink. Its front paws desperately attempted to swipe the sticky, flaming contents of the blaze from its chest. The creature didn’t make a sound but the pouches on the side of its head that held the eyes were wide open. Beelo noted that outside of the black pupils, the beast’s eyes were white. Beelo had never looked at one so closely. He momentarily forgot he was falling to his death and studied the creature.

Short, thick limbs sprouted from a flat body. The hide was scaly and black, but did not shine. Beelo knew from stories told by his father and grandfather that their people did not make a blade that could pierce that hide. There was a ridge that ran from the back of the head to the stubby tail. The front paws had long, hooked digits that ended in sharp talons and the back paws were flat with shorter claws that looked perfect for climbing. The head was squat and the nose was rounded with slits for nostrils that could completely close to keep out dirt when digging in the tunnels in which they lived. The mouth was wide and when it opened, revealed rows of pointy, yellow teeth.

Beelo was about to make an attempt to look closer when the slink hit the ground with a crunch of leaves and broken bones.

At almost the same time, Beelo’s world went dark.

Beelo sat cross-legged on the rug and watched his family finish their evening meal. A delicious stew filled his stomach and warmed him from the inside out. A brass stove on the other side of the room filled the air with a glowing warmth. The combined effect of the food and the heat made Beelo drowsy and he smiled sleepily at his son and watched as his youngest child tipped his soup cup and set it on his head. Kintu took the bowl away from the young boy and wiped the soup out of his orange, curly hair.

Beelo haltingly rose to his feet and bent over to collect the other dishes from the rug. He had to step carefully around his sister-in-law to get the dishes to the kitchen. The woman had hardly touched her soup, but Beelo was not surprised. Tara had spent most of the autumn in a daze. She would eat only a few bites at every meal and sat in the rocking chair all day while she rocked and stared at the stove. She only ever left her chair to relieve herself or to open the door when Kintu was not able to.

Beelo put the dishes in the wash basin and started cleaning them. Kintu walked up behind Beelo, wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her head against the space between his shoulder blades. He felt her lean to one side and soon they were swaying to a song that that must have been playing in his wife’s head. Beelo rinsed off the last dish, set it on a wooden rack to dry, and turned in Kintu’s arms until they faced each other. He wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close. He rested his chin on top of her head and breathed the scent of her hair deep into his lungs.

“You must be exhausted,” Kintu said.

“I am a bit tired.”

Exhausted was a better word for how he felt. A long day spent preparing the tree for the winter and a cold evening spent watching the tree had depleted him.

“Go and get ready for bed, I’ll tuck in the kids and fetch a blanket for Tara.”

Beelo nodded and kissed Kintu’s forehead. They let go of each other and Beelo made his way to the rug. He got down to his hands and knees to kiss his children. Batu, their daughter, laughed and playfully tried to escape from her father’s affection. Keelo, their son, gurgled and waved his chubby hands in the air. Beelo somehow got to his feet again and walked up the spiral staircase to the bedroom.

The doma tree in which Beelo’s family lived was in fact four trees that grew together, intertwined and wrapped around each other. The people of Beelo’s tribe all lived in similar trees. Most doma trees held two or three generations of family members and some were large enough for multiple families.

Beelo’s tree had belonged to his family for six generations. The first ancestor to make a home in this tree made use of natural gaps between the individual trunks, sealing off the space from the weather and making it air tight. Back in those days, there was one room with an open fireplace. In the time since, Beelo’s family expanded up into more and more empty spaces, building a system of staircases and passageways between each area. A brass stove, built by Beelo’s grandfather and great uncle, warmed the system of rooms and created a draft that drew fresh air from a series of small openings in a lower chamber and allowed the warm air to escape high in the branches of the tree. The exhaust from the stove and the cooking oven was also vented way up in the tree, which gave the smoke time to cool before it joined the outside air. Another recent addition was a cistern that provided running water in the kitchen and washroom with basins plumbed to drain down to the roots of the tree to mask the smell and warmth.

Controlling heat was of the utmost importance. If heat from a stove poured directly out of the house, it would be visible for miles. There were many animals in the forest and hills with the ability to see heat the way Beelo’s people see light and color. Even the coats worn while on watch were designed to retain and camouflage body heat. Each hood was fitted a mask that circulated exhalations into the coat to keep outgoing breath from fogging the air and glowing brightly in cold autumn air to any animal with the eyes to see it.

Beelo reached the top of the spiral staircase. There was landing at the top and three passageways. The first passageway lead to the chamber shared by Beelo and Kintu, the second belonged to the children, and the third was supposed to be used by Tara and her husband. However Tara now spent her nights in the same rocking chair she occupied during the day. Occasionally, when Beelo rose early, he would find Tara curled up on the rug in front of the stove.

Beelo entered his bed chamber, took off his outer garments and climbed into the bed. He was asleep in seconds, long before Kintu was done tucking in the kids.

Autumn

Beelo shivered. The south wind whistled through the bare limbs of his tree and seeped through the seams of his ankle-length hooded coat. The chill was uncomfortable but it kept Beelo alert and focused. This would be the last year he could wear this coat. The one his mother made him. Kintu, Beelo’s wife, would take the reusable parts of the hide to make a smaller coat. The seams would be tight and the insulation thick and warm. It would be a perfect coat for one of their children, may they grow big enough to take their turn at the watch.

Beelo heard a noise behind him. He turned to see Kintu walking carefully along the damp tree limb on which Beelo stood. Kintu carried a ceramic mug and steam escaped through the lid. She wore a long, thick robe and her breath fogged the air as if she also was filled with hot liquid.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Beelo said with concern in his voice. He turned his head to scan their surroundings to make sure it was safe.

“It is much too cold out here,” Kintu said. “Please, come inside.”

Kintu walked up to Beelo and held out the cup.

Beelo sighed and took one last look around. The sun had set for the second time more than an hour ago and it was definitely cold enough. It would be safe to go inside for the night.

Beelo took the cup and the couple walked single-file down the limb towards the massive trunk of their tree. The circumference of the limb grew as they walked and eventually they were able to walk side-by side. They held hands, fingers intertwined, while Beelo caressed Kintu’s finger with his thumb.

They both stopped when something moved above them. With a scratch and a rustle, a leaf fell between the limbs and branches. Like all the leaves from this tree, it was very big. Beelo could have lain outstretched on it’s surface and neither his toes or his fingers would reach either end of the leaf. It must have been one of the last leaves left on their tree. Beelo frowned as the leaf raced past them. Kintu sighed and squeezed her husband’s hand.

“It will be winter soon” she said.

“Yes,” agreed Beelo. “Soon.”

The limb on which the couple walked ended against the trunk of the massive tree. The rough bark of the trunk was laced with strands and curtains of stringy, green moss. Beelo took one last look around, then nodded. Kintu reached out and pulled one of these curtains of moss aside to reveal a wooden door.

The door was made from planks of wood joined with brass hardware and sealed with caulking. Light shined dimly through a window set with amber-colored glass. There was no handle on the outside of the door. Kintu rapped on the glass twice, then knocked three times on the wood. The amber window darkened as someone inside peered through it and a moment later, the door swung out.

Heat, light, and the smell of dinner welcomed the pair. Beelo placed his hand on the small of Kintu’s back as she passed through the door. After they were both inside, Beelo pulled the door shut against the cold, dark night. As the door seated into the jamb, two brass latches automatically fell into place in the floor. Beelo reached overhead and levered another latch into place on top. Between the latches and the heavy brass hinges on which the door swung, the entrance seemed secure enough to hold back anyone, or anything, that tried to force it open.

Beelo removed his long coat and hung it on a wooden peg next to the door. There was a second peg next to the one he used which was always empty. The sight of it made Beelo frown.

Beelo turned and looked at his home. Everything he held dear and everyone he cared for were safe and warm. He would spend every evening of this autumn watching the tree to make sure they stayed safe. For Beelo, winter could not come fast enough.