Maple Leaves
by Ari Figueroa
“You catch more flies with honey than you’ll catch the bees
They make their own sweetness, so they’re harder to please
Only the rarest flowers in a world full of weeds
Can bring those buzzy babes from their busy deeds.”
Maple let the water from the shower head rain down on her face. She could feel the hot steam opening up the tiny holes in her skin, her sinuses expanding. She leaned her head back and opened her mouth. The almost scalding water covered her tongue and made a small lake, bordered by teeth. She swallowed and it ran down her throat like hot flavorless tea. Maple leaned her head back as far as she could and let her intrusive thoughts win, as her nose plugged with shower water. She gasped then, her body shocked by the sudden sensation of drowning, though she knew what she was doing all along. Maple did this every time she showered and just like every other time, the flash of a memory crossed her mind. So quick and so hard to grasp. Something similar to this but the taste was fishier, the location was brighter, and someone else had been there. Someone she couldn’t quite remember but knew she owed a great debt to.
Maple got dressed for the day and was uncomfortable in an instant. Her corduroy slacks, forest green button down, and calf length brown socks made her feel trapped. It was a daily occurrence, but today she felt extra constricted. The fabric was itching her skin like it never had before. She took a breath and tried to ignore the desire to tear each bit of it off. She went to the floor length mirror by the door, stepping around boxes along the way. She had lived in this apartment for almost 6 months now but she still hadn’t unpacked a single item. There was no point. Maple never stayed in any one place longer than a year, as long back as she could remember. Her family was always hopping from one town to another and she supposed her body just got used to it. It was in her nature to go.
She had to stand far back from the mirror to see her whole silhouette. The mirror was normal in height but Maple was not. Of course, she wasn’t freakish by any standards. There was nothing wrong with being tall, or so her perfectly normal sized parents had always told her. In fact, it usually worked out to her advantage. Her long legs won her many a track meet in high school and it was obviously handy when lightbulbs needed to be changed. Her bark brown eyes took in the sight of her. Orange red hair that was almost unnatural in hue and yet never dyed. Even more strange, it changed to a deep brunette in the winter. She had it pulled into a thick bun on her head, which pulled at her scalp but it was the only way she could keep it maintained. “Wild hair.” Her mother had called it, which always gave Maple the desire to free it from its rubber tie prison. Although, part of her thought that if she did, she would never be able to contain it again.
Maple sighed in discontent of what specifically she was not sure, and made her way to work. She always opted to walk the thirty minutes to her office instead of taking public transport. Something within her begged to be outdoors and she could only please the urge with this small footed commute. But as the fresh summer air hit her face today, a branch within Maple snapped. Without a thought, without reason, and without stopping she began to run. She ran with a furious desperation. People on the sidewalk looked up in nerved surprise and when she passed, they searched behind her for a reason why this woman in business wear would be sprinting. A small part of Maple almost cared, but as she picked up speed every concern of societal observation flew away with the breeze.
She ran with direction and yet had no idea where she was going. Through the Vancouver alleys and streets she ran, dodging people, dogs, and cars. She didn’t even realize at some point she had let her hair out, or maybe it had freed itself, and was whipping in the air behind her. Maple stopped for nothing and ran through to the edges of town and beyond. Before she knew it, she was at the North Shore Mountains. It was a place she couldn’t remember ever visiting in her life and yet, it was so familiar to her that she felt relieved by its peaks. She hesitated now, expecting to be out of breath and tired from the run but instead she felt awake. As she walked carefully through the trees with unknown calculated intention, Maple felt like for the first time in a long time, she was present.
Something was wrong about the moment and without another thought, she sat down on the woodland floor and pulled off her shoes and socks. She left them by a large hemlock and bounded up, eager to keep moving. Maple’s feet acclimated to the forest, somehow growing tough on the bottom and as an unseasonal chill kissed the bare skin, she could almost swear she saw hairs she had never noticed before on the tops. She continued on but the heat was ruining her gleeful freedom. Instinct led her to a river and she stripped down to her underwear, then had a thought, and with a smirk of satisfaction she discarded them with her bra. Eager to cool off, she almost jumped completely into the water but suddenly stopped. The memory, the one she could new quite bring to the surface, bubbled up and with it came fear.
She had to have been no older than six. She was at the river with someone… She used to love the water.. It was a normal, beautiful summer day. The rapids…they weren’t that far from where she was. Someone saved her. A stranger then. A stranger no longer…
Maple opened her eyes and felt a deep desire to know the truth. She had a feeling she hadn’t known it in quite some time. She looked at the water and down at her bare form. It felt natural to be like this, to be here. She wouldn’t find the answers in this river. She looked to the peaks and knew she had to climb. So, she did.
She went as far on foot as she possibly could but as the mountain became steep she hooked her hands into the rocky crevices and pulled herself upward. A civilized person might have worried that the random hiker or nature enthusiast would see her but it was becoming clear to Maple that she was not as civilized as she may have believed herself to be. She climbed and anticipated fatigue to set in but instead felt her hands becoming stronger, the muscles on her arms popped in definition, and her legs boosted her so emphatically it almost felt as if another person was helping lift her up the mountainside.
She finally reached a ledge and pulled herself up onto it. Her skin scratched the rocks but left no mark or pain. She felt stronger than ever before and she sat with her legs dangling over, looking out into the trees. In the distance was Vancouver, bustling and busy. Seeing it made Maple slightly sad. She knew she didn’t and wouldn’t miss it, but thinking about all the time she had spent trying to be normal out there made her mournful. It suddenly hit her that she had no intention of ever going back. Like a rabbit caught in a garden that finally gets free, Maple had no desire to be caged ever again.
She pulled her knees to her chest and was surprised to see long hair on her legs. She didn’t regularly shave or anything, but her leg hair had never been this long before. She realized her arms had it too. Before she could inspect any more goosebumps pimpled up under the hair as she heard shuffling from behind her. Too big to be a regular woodland animal. A bear maybe, or something else. With courage, she turned and realized she had been sitting in front of a fairly large cave the whole time. Definitely large enough for a whole family of bears. She should go. Climb back down the mountain, find her clothes, and go to work. But then she smelled something that made her freeze in place. A woody, earthy smell that was new and yet old at the same time. It filled her nostrils and Maple knew she was in no danger. Whatever produced this aroma was watching her but not revealing itself. Curiosity overtook any reason left in her and she stood. She heard the creature in the cave shuffle backwards, as if frightened of her.
Maple stared into the darkness and then got on all fours. It felt like the right thing to do. She stayed like this, waiting. The mysterious entity did not move. A rumble brewed within her and her body let out a noise that sounded somewhere between the howl of a wolf and a mourning dove’s coo. She was surprised at herself, but even more shocked when she heard the sound repeated to her from the cavern. Carefully, she crawled forward.
The pitch blackness of the cave against the stark sunlight should have temporarily blinded her. Instead, Maple’s eyes dilated and acclimated. Despite her instant comfort to the dark, she was not prepared for this encounter. Something or someone very tall stood before her and Maple’s breath caught in her throat at the sight. The being was covered crown to toe in thick fur and, at first, she was certain her bear suspicions had been accurate. It wasn’t as if bears weren’t bipedal. But, as she really took them in, Maple realized they were more humanoid. Their eyes weren’t black marbles, like a bear. Instead they were a reflection of her own. Her fear faded and was replaced with a pit of something in her stomach. It felt nostalgic and somehow sad. They stared at one another for minutes that passed like hours.
At last, Maple stood and spoke. What came out was intended to be English but sounded more akin to something ancient. Yet, she was less surprised at the language and more so at the word that naturally parted from her lips.
“Mama?”
That was it. The figure rushed her then and took Maple in her arms. Upon her touch, it all came flooding back. Maple’s true home, this very cave, was where she was born. These mountains were where she would climb and play as a young cubling. The forests were where she was raised to hunt, gather and even hide. The river where they would fish, wash, swim and…
“You got swept away.” Her mama said in the language that only their kind knew. Her voice was warm gravel. It instantly comforted Maple and simultaneously filled her heart with ache. She had missed her so much and hadn’t even known it until now. A guilt ate at her stomach. She had forgotten her own mother and forgotten how she was ripped away from her home in the first place. That particular memory came back now in full force.
She could swim before she could walk. She loved the water. One day she was playing in the current and then her foot slipped on a mossy rock. She got swept up. Swept away from her mother who desperately tried to grab her, but reached out too late. Maple’s head bobbed above and under the water aggressively. The white foamy rapids choked her and she couldn’t cry out to her mother who ran in the trees along the waters edge, trying to find a way to get to her. She hit a thick log in the tumble of the waves and blacked out. When she came to, she was being rescued by a hairless creature not too unlike her own kind. A couple, in fact, had pulled her unconscious from the river and brought her back to life. They thought she was alone and in need of a family. So, before her true mother could find her, they took her from the mountains and did what they could to civilize the slightly hairy child of the woods.
It all made sense. Like a difficult puzzle finally coming together. They had to move so many times because of how hard it was to break Maple of her wild ways. She would streak down the neighborhood streets, bite children that she wished to be friends with as a way of affection, and there was even an instance when she had eaten her pet hamster. All these memories had been blocked before. Now, she closed her eyes, overwhelmed by her own mind. She reeled and her true mom tightened her arms to keep her standing.
“Are you okay?” She asked her with a worried grumbled voice. Maple opened her eyes and looked into the orange red furred face. She smiled for what felt like her first real smile in years.
“I will be now.”