Under the Big Roots
"Who's out here shivering?" Rae asked, stopping on the moss. Nobody answered. Rae held the small stone that lived in their pocket. It had sat in the sun all day, and it was still warm. The forest was warm too in the lit places, where lanterns of light hung between the branches. But a thin cold came from somewhere low down. Rae turned a slow circle and listened. The sound came again, small as a hiccup.
It came from the roots of the biggest tree. Rae knew that tree. Underneath it was a dark gap, cold as an open window, and Rae always walked the long way around. Tonight Rae stood still and looked at it. "I am a bit scared of that dark part," Rae said out loud. The moss did not mind. Rae pressed the warm stone into their palm until the warmth went all the way up their arm.
Rae walked slowly. The ferns brushed their knees and let them through. The air grew cooler around their ankles, then cooler around their hands. Rae stopped. Rae breathed. Then Rae went on, past the old log, past the white flowers that only open at night. One step, and then one more. The gap under the roots got bigger and nearer, and it stayed where it was, and it did not do anything at all.
Rae knelt down and looked inside. Cold breathed out at them, slow and damp. A mouse sat in there, grey as a stone, holding something between her paws. It was a berry, and it shone like a very small moon. "That's a cold light," Rae said. The mouse shivered. Her light was beautiful and it warmed nothing. Rae could feel the chill coming off the roots, and the stone going warm in their fist.
"You could hold mine," Rae said, and showed her the stone. The mouse looked at the stone. Then she looked at her shining berry. She set the berry down on the moss and pushed it forward with her nose. Rae put the warm stone down beside it. Neither of them hurried. Rae waited until the mouse stepped back. Then Rae lifted the berry, and the mouse wrapped herself right around the stone.
The berry was cool and smooth, like a pebble from a stream. Its light sat in Rae's hand and turned their fingers pink. The mouse pressed her chin to the warm stone and sighed. Her shivering stopped, one small piece at a time. Rae sat down in the gap under the roots. The dark part was only dark. It smelled of moss and rain, and it was not cold now, not with the two of them in it.
Far above, the big tree held up its branches. Lanterns of light swung between the leaves, quiet and slow. Rae raised the berry, and the roots overhead went soft and pink. "I walked all the way here," Rae told the mouse. The mouse yawned. Her ears were warm. Rae's toes were warm. Out in the ferns something soft moved along and kept going, and Rae listened to it go without moving at all.
The mouse carried the stone deeper into the hollow and heaped dry leaves around it like a nest. Then she came back out and sat by Rae's knee. Rae set the berry down in the moss, where it lit a small round room of light. The air under the roots grew heavy and slow. Rae's eyes closed, and opened, and closed. The forest went on breathing above them, warm and dark and wide.
"One step, and then one more," Rae said, almost asleep. The mouse climbed onto Rae's open palm and put one paw against their thumb. It was the size of a seed. It was warm. Rae held it, and did not squeeze, and did not let go. The berry dimmed down to the colour of milk. Outside the roots the stars leaned a little closer, and under them the big tree held everyone it had.
