Excerpt: The Centaur's Diary

Renuka had sent me to her potato field to pull weeds. I hated this chore more than any other. It made me stoop low like a cat to be able reach the weeds, and if they didn’t come readily I straightened up and used a narrow spade to dig them out. The earth in Renuka’s plots seemed drier and harder than in anyone else’s, and the way she spread manure brought in flies. My tail and ears were constantly twitching, and I batted the air with my hands in between pulling.

It was a hot, humid day. The sort of day where you wait for rain to come and break the deadness of the air. Sweat ran down my sides and attracted even more flies.

Therefore I was happier than usual to see Hamyak running toward me from the north orchard. He waved his arms and his curly blond hair bounced and sprang around his cheeks. His blue eyes were open wide.

“There’s a goat in a tree!” he shouted. “A goat in a tree!”

I dropped my spade and trotted out to meet him. “What do you mean ‘a goat in a tree?’”

“It climbed the tree! Come see it!” Hamyak turn and ran toward the orchard, his haunches springing and tail wagging. I followed along. This I had to see. If Hamyak were telling the truth – if truly a goat could climb a tree – there was no reason we boys couldn’t manage to climb one as well.

In the orchard a gang of boys and girls surrounded a crab apple tree. They craned their necks; some pointed into the branches. There, sure enough, was a goat, a half-grown kid who stood among the low branches nibbling fruit.

I joined the crowd. “How’d he get up there?” I asked.

“He just ran right up,” someone answered.

“Is he stuck?” Hakop asked.

“Let’s find out,” said Karmir. He stooped and groped around the ground till he found some pebbles. He drew back his arm to let them fly, but Hasmin stopped him.

“Let it be,” she said. Karmir made a face at her and pushed her aside, but he didn’t throw the stones.

Suddenly Pavaka was in our midst, swatting both boys and girls on their rumps. “Don’t you have chores to do?” she scolded. “You’ve never seen a goat before?”

“We’ve never seen one in a tree,” Hamyak said, his eyes still wide as though his amazement would never end.

“Well, you’ve seen it now, so scatter, all of you.”

“But it’s in a tree,” said Hakop.

“So? If you lazy runts spent more time tending orchards you’d know that goats sometimes get into the trees,” said Pavaka, “where they don’t belong.” She turned and glared up at the goat, who had stopped munching and was eyeing us. Pavaka whisked off her apron and snapped it through the air in the goat’s direction

“Shoo!” she shouted, but the goat didn’t budge. Karmir still had his handful of pebbles, and he flung them at the goat. They struck the goat’s shoulder, and prompted the animal to climb higher into the tree.

Pavaka grabbed the nearest girl by the shoulder. “Go get it out of the tree,” she ordered. The girl frowned, tucked the hem of her skirt into her waistband, kicked off her shoes and climbed.

As I watched the girl ascend, fingers and toes gripping, I was jealous of her ability. The reason the goat in the tree excited us boys was that it told us a hoofed being could climb trees, too.

The girl reached the goat pretty quickly, and tried to make it descend by pushing it. But the goat just pushed back, and the tree shook as they shoved back and forth. Finally, the girl braced herself against a main branch and kicked the goat hard on the hip. The goat sprang to a lower branch.

“Stand back,” said Pavaka. “Give it room.”

We fanned out around the tree and watched the girl herd the goat down the branches. Unlike a cat coming down from a tree, the goat descended head first, and when its hooves began to slip on the tree trunk it simply leapt the remaining distance to the ground. We all shouted, and the goat bounded off. The girl descended the tree butt first, like a cat, but no one paid attention to her – Pavaka was busy ordering us around, making us go back to work. But the minute she was out of sight, I stopped trudging and returned to the orchard. I was going to climb the tree.

Karmir and Belen had the same idea, and when I got there they had already arrived. Belen stood on his hind legs, his forelegs pawing the tree trunk, his hands gripping the bark. He pulled and grunted, and one rear leg left the ground, but he went nowhere.

“The goats are lighter than we are,” Karmir said.

“But we have hands,” Belen said over his shoulder. “We should be able to pull ourselves up.”

“Let’s find a tree with lower branches,” I said. “Once we get hold of a branch....”

We looked around, but all the trees whose branches were low enough were young trees that might be damaged. And the women would wallop us if we hurt a tree.

“Let’s stick with this tree,” said Belen. “If we nick the bark or break a branch we can always blame the goats.”

“I know,” said Karmir. “You two stand together and let me get on your backs. Then I can reach a branch.”

“No, Karmir,” said Belen. “You’re the biggest, so you should be on the bottom. Danoush is the lightest – let him climb.”

“But it was my idea. I get to go first.”

“No,” Belen said. “Your feet will gouge us. You’ll rough us up plenty getting into the tree.”

Karmir pouted and crossed his arms. “Then do it without me.” He turned, flipped his tail at us, and walked off toward the fields.

Belen and I looked at one another after Karmir was gone. “Want to try?” I asked.

“Sure.” Belen sat on his haunches in front of the tree and I climbed onto his back, grabbing his shoulders. He grunted and stood as I shifted to get my hind legs beneath me so I could stand on his back. I stood as carefully as I could, but I knew my hooves dug into Belen. His hide twitched.

“Hurry,” he said.

“You’ll have to stand closer, sideways to the tree.”

Belen turned and I nearly slid off him. I twisted and gripped the tree trunk with my hands, then pulled myself up till my knees scraped against the bark.

Most all my weight was on my hind feet. “Ow!” said Belen.

I could reach a branch. I pulled myself up and felt my hind feet leave Belen’s rump and dangle in the air. “Ah,” said Belen.

I clambered and pulled, and soon had a foreleg hooked over a branch. I struggled upward till I was entirely in the tree top, looking down on Belen’s upturned face.

He beamed at me and I laughed. Now that I was in the tree I could use the branches like steps. I went as high as I could until the branches bowed beneath me. I swayed in the air, threw my head back and howled with delight. A kendar had climbed a tree, and the kendar had been me!

It was great to be up in the air, the view not as broad or steep as from the hilltop, but standing in the tangle of limbs, disconnected from the earth, I felt like a bird. I rocked to make the tree sway. I felt incredibly happy.

“Let me try,” called Belen. He hopped from leg to leg and seemed far away.

“In time. I want to be up here a while.” I plucked a little apple and took a bite. It was hard and sour, yet the best apple I’d ever tasted. I settled in and imagined the tree was home.

The air in the tree top seemed cooler, there were no flies. I leaned into a forked branch, stretched out my arms and looked at the sky. Birds flashed past me, clouds bunched in the west. Perhaps later it would rain. I would stay in the tree till it rained. I would stay in the tree until....

“Eridanus!” shouted Belen, using my formal name. “It’s been long enough.”

“It’s been only a minute.”

“But pretty soon they’ll notice we’re not at work and I’ll miss my chance. Give me a turn to climb, it’s only fair.”

I am susceptible to the word “fair.” I flung the core of my apple as far as I could throw, and watched it arc. Grabbing a branch, I climbed downward, then stopped – I’d run out of branches. From here the distance to the ground seemed farther than it had from the tree top.

“Belen, come here. Let me drop onto you.”

“No, it hurts too much. Just skip down and leap like the goat did.”

“I’m not a goat.”

“Then what are you doing in a tree?” Belen laughed.

“Very funny. Now I know why kendars don’t climb trees – they can’t get down.”

“Just hang by your arms and drop. It won’t be far.”

I knew that Belen was right. But I was gripped by a sudden dizziness when I thought of my feet leaving the branches and dangling in the air.

“I can’t,” I told him.

“Sure you can. I could do it.”

“I can’t.”

Belen frowned. “You’re going to stay up there all day and all night? You’ll let Pavaka find you and send a girl up to get you?”

The thought of Pavaka coming upon us should have been enough to make me spring from the tree as though it were on fire, but I couldn’t move. My mind knew that what Belen said was true – that I could simply hang and drop with little danger – but my mind couldn’t budge my fear. It was as though I split in two, and the split fueled my anxiety.

I looked at Belen – his frown remained, but his brows knotted with worry. “We have to get you down somehow,” he said. “Wait here” – as if I had a choice – and he cantered off.

While Belen was gone I lifted one hoof then another off a branch, but I couldn’t bring myself to step off entirely and trust my arms. Why are you so stupid? I asked myself. Why are you afraid? No matter how I spoke to myself, my body wouldn’t budge.

In a little while Belen returned, carrying an orchard ladder that the women and girls used to gather fruit. He looked proud, as though he had solved the world’s greatest riddle. He leaned the ladder against the tree.

“All right now, Danoush. Use the ladder to step down.”

My legs refused to step. They refused to leave the tree.

“Danoush, do you understand?”

“I understand, but you do not. My mind sees the ladder. My mind sees the distance isn’t great. But something else controls me, and my legs won’t move.”

Belen rolled his eyes. “We’ll have to get a giant eagle to carry you off, then, and drop you on the hill.”

I felt like crying, but anger at myself was stronger than tears. I’d never been so at odds with my animal nature, but here he was and I couldn’t ignore him. Horses aren’t goats, and horses don’t belong in trees. Hippo! I cursed myself.

Belen had another idea. “I’ll get a big old kendar from the men’s camp, a tall one. Perhaps he can reach you and carry you to the ground.”

He turned and ran. I shouted after him, “My uncle! Don’t tell my uncle!” I would die if Pholus saw me whimpering in a tree.

The distance is long between the women’s settlement and the men’s camp. The sun was setting by the time Belen returned, prancing in the wake of a monumental kendar who lifted each knee high as he strode. I’d seen him before, but didn’t know his name. His coat glowed red in the westering sun, and I imagined he was Karmir’s father. He stopped beneath the tree and looked up at me.

The kendar placed his hands on his withers and smiled. I felt shy and hid my face. “When I was your age,” he said in the women’s tongue, his voice deeper than a woman’s would ever be, “I too did foolish things that gave me joy then turned into trouble. And when all seemed lost an older kendar appeared and spared my hide. Remember this when you are a man.”

I expected the kendar to reach toward me and help me down. Instead, he put his shoulder to the tree and tore it from the ground. I clung to the boughs with all my strength. The kendar held the trunk in his hands as though he’d just plucked a flower. Slowly, gently, he angled the tree top toward the ground and I scampered off.

Never but one other time have I been so happy to feel my hooves touch earth. I leaped into the air just to feel my weight slam into the dirt. I ran in a circle around Belen and the giant kendar.

The kendar did his best to replace the tree. After setting it back in the earth he pressed all around it with his forefeet. He looked at me, and I felt shy again.

“Eridanus,” he rumbled, “this tree is weakened now. It will need care and attention until its severed roots can grow again. In payment for my help, you must care for this tree until you join us in the men’s camp.” With that he turned and walked off.

My jaw dropped and I turned to Belen. “Who is that?”

“His name is Vartan. He was the biggest one I could find who understood my speech.”

I wanted Vartan to understand me, too, to understand all of me. I wanted to be him when I grew up. I wanted to be able to look him in the face. I wanted. In that moment climbing trees seemed child’s play. I was ready to finish being a child.