Growing in Spurts

It was in the closet Clarissa shoved her in every time she brought her boyfriend around. The four walls pushed together had been converted from a washroom. It had not been the kind of bathroom to have a nice sink and a spacious bath; it held just enough space for a single toilet and a lean radiator, shoved up against the wall as if the room was fighting for what little space there was left. As a closet, it was worse. The coats hung on one side of the wall and quickly overtook the rest of the space. The shoes were thrown on the floor and strove to cover the entire area.

Valerie sat on the ground and pulled her knees up beneath her. The sounds of her sister's forced laugh echoed within the small chamber, surrounding her. Other sounds splashed in her head, and she imagined that Clarissa and Brandon were having one giant pillow fight. She could never really tell who was winning, because sometimes Brandon would yell and other times Clarissa would cry victoriously. Sometimes Valerie wished that she could join in on the pillow fight but she knew that Clarissa would never let her.

Clarissa claimed she was in the way and always up to no good. It was the reason the closet became her territory by day. At first, she had wished she could lie in her own bed all day, but the sisters shared a room and Clarissa reminded Valerie she had work to do. There was a crack in the wall in the closet, and Valerie was not to leave until she discovered why the crack was there.

She had many theories about what caused the crack. There was a man that lived behind the crack. He wanted to peel off the wallpaper and come out. While redecorating, he had happened to catch a glance of a small buttercup in the long wet grass. Ever since, he had become obsessed with the idea of smelling that flower. Valerie thought it best to not tell him that her father had cut the grass out front, destroying all the buttercups in view. Another theory was that a tree was growing up right through the floorboards of the house, and it had pushed its way through the wall behind the crack and was trying to find its way to the light. Her mother had a plant in the kitchen window that grew to one side, looking like a doll whose hair had been pushed over. She explained that plants are greedy for sunlight. Valerie could picture the roots of the tree fighting for air, their tips pushing, groping for a way out that the crack provided.

Clarissa was not mean-spirited in making Valerie work for her. Valerie knew that her sister thought just as hard about the crack at night when Valerie was sleeping. Clarissa didn't want their parents to know about the crack, because they would want to take all the credit for the discovery. Or worse, they would fix the crack in the wallpaper and its secrets would be lost.

Valerie traced her finger along the surface of the crack, the uneven surfaces flowing against each fingerprint line. She sometimes wished she could spend all of her time in the closet. She had tried to talk to the man living behind the wall, but he didn't answer during the day. She even attempted to water the bottom base board a few times so that the tree would be drawn to a water source. She was only able to do this a few times, because she had to sneak down the stairs in the middle of the night.

She would lie in bed, listening for the sounds of her mother and father. She was put to bed at 8pm, her mother tucking the sheet underneath her body. Then, she would kiss the top of Valerie's head, turn off the light, and shut the door. She would hear her mother's receding footsteps as she descended the stairs. She would join Valerie's father and they would watch television for a while. Then, at precisely 10pm each night they would shut the television off and lie on the couch and talk to each other. Valerie didn't know what they were saying, but she assumed they felt a shift in the house and were discussing what to do if the tree finally broke through all the boards. That was why they mustn't know about the crack. Then, slowly, they would move around the house and then gently shut their door. After about fifteen minutes, Valerie could get up. Other times, she would be lying there and thinking so intently about the man behind the wall that she would fall asleep and dream of him.

In many ways, he resembled a tree himself. His arms and legs were like long vines that clung out in every direction to support him. He was not mean. In fact, she dreamt that he would climb up the small set of stairs and lay on the ground close by her bed. Soon he would be under the bed, and she would be talking to the room and it would talk back. Often times, he told her stories of his long life. He had not always lived in a wall, he said. Where he was from, it rained liquid gold and puddles formed that looked much like yellow jell-o. He told her of his friends: of Gerald the Mime Keeper and Cindy the Wooden Doll Maker. He explained that he had been trapped inside the wall by an evil witch, and that his only view was of the family's little closet.

Valerie said that was impossible, he couldn't be under her bed at that moment if he was stuck behind a wall. The tree man said that he could move behind that wall and only see the inside of the closet. However, he could hear her just fine and that she should continue talking to him whenever it was possible.

The door opened suddenly, and Clarissa's face came into view. Brandon was gone, she said. It was getting late, and what was she doing sleeping on the floor when there were so many mysteries to be explained?

Valerie said that she had been talking with the tree man. She offered to stay in the closet.

No, Clarissa spat suddenly. Their parents would be home soon and all their progress would be spoiled! Valerie agreed haughtily.

As she came out of the closet, she heard a loud shift in the floor boards. Turning back, she saw a floor board jump out of position and then wrench itself back. Before she could run back in to check the status of the crack, Clarissa slammed the door shut, in time with the slam of her father's car door outside.

It was Friday, and Valerie would not have a shot at the crack until Monday, unless she crept to the closet after her parents shut their door. Her father's arms picked her up in a warm embrace, his smile contagiously affecting her. He kissed her, and twirled her around in his arms. "How is my princess today?" He asked, holding her up close to her face.

"Good." She answered, pulling on his ear slightly. "Can we go to the park today, like we used to?" His smiled faded slightly but he kept his teeth spread wide. "Sorry princess, Mommy's tired and I have to go back into work tomorrow morning. Maybe she'll take you if she's feeling better."

Valerie was only slightly aware that her mother's illness was getting worse, but her father's concern was growing by the day on his expression. She ran her fingers across the wrinkles on his forehead, trying to smooth the skin to look like a marble sculpture. His smile returned as she did this, and all of her troubles of the moment were forgotten.

Clarissa retreated to her room, the ear buds of her music player shoved far into her ears. She reappeared at dinner time, after their father knocked on her door five times. The dinner table was quiet. Their mother gave an encouraging smile to all of them, tinted with sadness.

Valerie's thoughts drifted back to the crack in the closet, only a few steps away from her. She felt her eyes travelling back to the slit of darkness under the door, but she had to remind herself to stare back down at her plate. She wasn't hungry, and instead of eating she pushed the food around with her small pink fork.

She wondered briefly how the tree was doing. She imagined the little twigs poking through the crack, taking in as much light as possible. The green leaves would shoot up from the tips and little buds would be inching out. The tree man behind the wall would be laughing at the growth, wishing he could speed up time in order to break out from the wall. The twigs represented his fingers and the branches were his arms. He would be moving his fingers, completely wrapped up in the idea of movement. Valerie wanted to help him. She felt it was wrong for anyone to be tied up.

Her father told her to eat her vegetables, and she continued the motion of pushing the carrots around on her plate.

That night her mother repeated the pattern of putting her into bed. Mechanically, she tucked the sheets underneath Valerie. She could feel her mother's slightly cold fingers as if her mother was baking and she was the jelly and her sheets were the dough. Just enough pressure to keep the sheets in place, but not so much that the jelly would explode out of the side.

"Good night, darling." Her mother whispered, kissing her forehead.

"Mommy," Valerie said, as her mother pushed her hair off of her face and out of her eyes. "Can we go to the park tomorrow?"

Her mother smiled. Valerie inherited that same smile from her mother, and her dad's small nose. "Of course, honey." She kissed her again, and then stood.

"Mommy, could we leave some water in a bowl on the floor by the closet door?"

"Why would you want to do that?" Her mother asked. Valerie smiled, trying to seem innocent. "Could we?" Her mother laughed softly, with a cough to finish it off.

"Valerie, you have the craziest ideas sometimes." She stood and Valerie felt the weight shift off the bed. "I'll leave a cup of water by the door." Valerie smiled and closed her eyes as the light turned off and the door closed.

The next day was bright and the sun sparkled over the small lake in the park. "The park" was not really a park. It was a nature reserve her mother worked on as a park ranger. Clarissa wouldn't accompany them. That was alright with Valerie, she was tired of hearing her sister's forced laughter and the sounds of the boys she brought over.

Valerie ran along the path and the slightly compressed dirt below her made sloshing noises whenever she took a new step. The lake looked like pieces of glass all placed in different positions. By moving, the light instantly changed and it was like a new world was opened up. The trees overhead blocked areas of sun and the ground became a stained glass window of different greens.

"Come on, Mommy!" Valerie shouted up the path. Valerie glanced behind her. Her mother was a way off in the distance, not making any effort to gain speed.

It had rained the night before, and the ground was slightly damp, the top layer of dust striving to dry and lift off into the air. It was cold for summer, although it never got too warm where they lived.

Valerie had reached the water's edge. She was holding the far end of a twig and swirling the water with the other end of it. The ripples danced around the point of the twig and far out, growing further away from each other with each ring.

The rings in the water made Valerie think about the tree man. A year ago, she and her father had been out making deliveries for his job. At one of the towns, they stumbled across a tree that had been just cut down. He showed her how the rings moved out from the center, explaining that each ring meant another year the tree had been alive. She had remarked that she wanted to live as long as a tree. Her father laughed and told her that trees live much longer than humans do. He said trees grow a lot slower than humans. She wondered if that was why the tree man had lived such a long life. She also wondered how long he would be stuck there if let alone.

She imagined he would be sad when she was away at school. He could no longer talk to her through the walls of the house. Maybe she would tell Clarissa about him and she could talk to him.

The sun shown its bright rays on Valerie and she stopped to simply enjoy the feeling. It had been a long time since they had gone to the park and it made her very happy, even though it was just her mother and her. She missed her father, but it had been explained that he had needed to pick up more hours whenever he could. They needed to pay hospital bills, she was told. Valerie looked to see if her mother was almost to her, and finally realized that her mother was in a heap on the ground.

The entire house seemed darker than usual. Their father had told Clarissa to take Valerie home, because he didn't want them sleeping in the hospital. Their mother was in a stabilized condition, but father didn't want to leave her. There was an eerie quality about the house and the air was stale, suggesting there had been no human occupants for days.

Clarissa locked the front door and immediately filled the empty space on the couch, the remote control in her hand. Valerie was tired. The clock flashed 9:00pm and it was late for her.

She walked up the small stairs and turned the corner into the bathroom. She could reach her toothbrush when she stood on the toilet, but the toothpaste was behind the mirror, which was out of her reach. She wet the toothbrush and began scrubbing, slightly too hard. When her gums hurt, she stopped and put the toothbrush back in its pink container. She ran the comb through her hair like her mom used to do, but she forgot about the back section and the knots only grew worse. She couldn't find her pajamas so she crawled into bed wearing the clothes that she had worn during the day.

Valerie closed her eyes, but couldn't sleep. She had forgotten to turn off the light and had to get up again. As her finger hit the switch she stopped to listen. She could hear the roar of the television and Clarissa's voice talking through the receiver.

In the middle of the night, Valerie awoke to a strange sound. It was not a frightening sound and Valerie was curious. The sound of the television was still on, but Clarissa's voice could not be heard so it was most likely safe to venture out and check.

Valerie's toes on the wood floor felt cold, and she tried to cover them with the bottom of her pants. By doing so, she partway tripped down the stairs. She recovered and stood still to listen for signs of life coming from the sofa. When her small ears, her father's ears, perceived no sound, she continued. She could hear it all around the house, and was surprised that it didn't wake up Clarissa, who she could now see. She was sprawled out on the blue couch, one arm slung over her face and the other drooping down to the floor with the remote still clenched in it.

The sound was a small creaking sound, and she walked around the kitchen in search of it. When she recovered her spot, she noticed it was coming from the closet. She inched over, her heart racing. The crack underneath the door revealed no clues and the darkness just stared back at her.

Valerie kneeled down next to the door and placed her ear up to the door. The sound was not loud, but repetitive. It seemed to be growing in intensity, but the sound remained quiet and determined.

She stood again and stared at the hard wood of the door and its frame. For the first time, she started to get a funny feeling about the room. She felt weird standing there in her dirty clothes ready to face wherever the crack had become. She wondered if the tree man was trying to grab her attention. She had not spoken to him for a while because she had been at the hospital. He had perhaps thought the family no longer lived there, and felt inclined to make some noise. Then she considered maybe the witch had returned and she became worried. The tree man was her friend and she was determined that no harm would come to him if she could help it. She became angry. Her little fingers gripped the door knob and she pulled on the door. It wouldn't budge.

She tried again, and again. But there was still no give in the door. Without realizing it, Valerie screamed in frustration.

"What is it, Val?" Her sister asked, groggily. She had sat up and was looking at Valerie with a confused expression. "Go back to bed."

Valerie glanced at her sister. "I can't get the door open."

Her sister sighed, but took another look at her. "If I help you, will you promise to go back upstairs and crawl into bed and shut your eyes?"

Valerie nodded, but had no intention of keeping her promise.

Clarissa came over and gripped the door, but she had the same problem. She tried again, but to no avail.

"…Must be jammed." Clarissa muttered more to herself than to Valerie. Then she stopped and listened. "What's that sound?"

"Could we try it together?" Valerie asked, gripping the bottom of the handle before her sister could say no. Clarissa nodded, no longer giving her sister a contemptible stare. Her hands shook. She had never before believed that there was anything in the closet, but now she wasn't so sure.

They both pulled and turned the knob with all their might. They kept pulling, and the door shifted slightly. They didn't give up and finally the door swung open.

The light travelled up floorboards and Valerie's eyes opened in delight in time with her sister's gasp.

The vines twisted and flew out in different directions. They had wrapped themselves around the handle, the reason that it was so hard to open the door. Some of them were large and some were teeny tiny. Others were very long and some were just inches sprouting from the crack. The sisters' eyes followed the twirling movements and the green foliage. The crack was significantly wider, running almost along one whole side of the wall. Valerie smiled when her eyes followed through the vines to the enlarged crack. Staring out at them was the bark face of someone she would've known anywhere.