Content warnings

Ableism. Discrimination.

The life sharing river glistened in late fall sunshine. Banks shifted, and softly crumbled in. Multicolored fish darted among the reeds growing along the gently splashing edges.

The dry dirt slope allowed people to wade into the river for drinking water, swimming, bathing, and rafting to other villages.

Zowie waited on a stone bench at the edge of the river. Her feet shuffled in fallen dry leaves. The care of the river, and the feeding canal, were her primary companions.

Or had been.

There weren't many children in the village. Most picked their skill to train for seasons before they were grown enough to learn to care for the feeding canal.

One potential trainee, several growing seasons ago, had insisted they take what they wanted from the river without asking. Zowie shivered at the memory. As a precaution, he had been sent down the river to join an overlarge community where the river emptied into the watery expanse.

Bramblyn would be trained to take on the care of the canal and river. If she were able to retain the knowledge and skills. Would she have an intuitive interest in the life among the reeds?

If Bramblyn didn't appear as if she could preserve the knowledge, Zowie'd have to send for a trainee from another village. Which would mean training someone she hadn't known since their birth. Not a comfortable prospect.

Bramblyn danced down the hard dirt trail. She paused when she saw Zowie. She slowed down to a more sedate pace to Zowie's stone seat. “I'm ready to learn.”

“Are you?” Zowie shifted her walking sticks.

Bramblyn sat by the water's edge and trailed her hands in the water next to one of the taller reeds. She wiggled her finger and watched. The water splashed, and Bramblyn pulled out a fish.

She smiled, rubbed its back, and placed the fish back in the water. “When her eggs hatch and grow up, we will have plenty of droppings for plant food in the feeding canal.”

Zowie smiled. “Good. You understand the life cycle of the fish. How about the canal itself?”

Bramblyn repeated the lore she had already learned at the evening fires. Some she expounded on. Not always as Zowie recognized. Maybe some of these new ideas would benefit the village.

Zowie nodded along as the sun drifted up the horizon. Only those who assisted life, whether as canal caretakers, or growers, or healers, could fully understand the land as it grew around them. Bramblyn knew the tales. Did she know the deeper meanings?

She held up her hand. “Enough reciting. You missed a word or two here and there. Did you bring a digging tool?”

“No.” Bramblyn leaned back on her ankles and shaded her eyes. "I haven't made a canal tool. Only the tools I used for planting. And it will need to be a different shape and a longer handle than I have used before. A canal tool should never be used for other projects, nor should other tools be used in the canal."

“Then we shall make one together.” Zowie stretched her legs. “You will need a strong flat rock to dig, and either a solid branch, or a strong long thin rock for a handle. And lots of dried vine to join them.”

Bramblyn nodded. She scurried down a rabbit trail close to the shore to choose good tool parts. Before long, she returned with a good strong rock, a damp vine, and a short branch.

Zowie nodded. “Good choices. The vine needs to dry in the watery sunshine. Let's go look at the feeding canal before you make the tool.” She picked up her walking sticks and pulled herself upright.

Bramblyn placed the rocks and wood against Zowie's bench, and lightly covered them with damp fallen leaf scraps so scampering wildlife would be less likely to carry them off. She laid the vine across the bench Zowie had sat on. “I can hang it over my home hearth tonight to dry more.”

“Not too close.” Heat would help the vine dry quickly, and fully.

They followed the narrow trail down the river side. A short walk beyond the community area, the canal branched off from the river. Here there was a nice flat rock that had been rubbed soft for a few generations. They placed offerings to the fish and other river beings.

River animals needed the food as much as the humans to survive winter's chill.

Zowie pulled a pouch out of her tunic. She pulled out some dried summer berries and flower petals. She placed them on the rock and blew on them. The dried flower petals danced on her breath and landed far out in the stream. They floated almost out of sight quickly. Soon they would fill with water, giving them a blush of second life, then be scooped up by river creatures as a snack. The berries would soak into the rock, and slip into the water as riverside animals found them. Perhaps a squirrel or beaver would scatter them to the fish.

“I've seen the feeding canal from digging in the feed grounds.” Bramblyn hesitated as she pushed the viney curtain to follow the trail to the feed grounds. “What if I'm not strong enough?”

Zowie paused. “Why wouldn't you be?”

Bramblyn gulped. “I was a sick baby. I grew later than others. Talked later, walked later. I was.” She turned her head.

Zowie had forgotten. She was the child the other adults had whispered of. She smiled deep inside. As she herself had been. Though the other adults had long forgotten, if any were young enough to remember.

She shifted her walking sticks to turn around to face Bramblyn. As she looked in the girl's eyes, she perceived remnants of what had made herself able to be a feeding canal caretaker. “You will try.”

Bramblyn wiped away a tear. A dirt smudge under her damp eyes revealed memories of that tear. Maybe many tears before her dance to the riverside.

Bramblyn paused beside her. Almost lost. Not the strong, brave, and sure of herself girl by the river's edge.

Bramblyn needed a breath of privacy. “Wipe the dirt smudge away. Come along.” Zowie led the way along the winding pathway to the middle of the feeding grounds.

The village had grown by three adults and two babies over the winter. The feeding circles needed expanding to be able to feed everyone over the summer and into next winter. Which meant asking for more water from the river.

Zowie sat on a nearby bench. “Show me.”

Bramblyn appeared to ignore her. She walked along the path to view all the feeding canal growth circles. All empty for winter. A few decaying squash plants held sway in one closest to the village.

Canal caretaking was much more than many community members realized. The pattern of the feeding canal had changed over many generations.

Zowie recounted how the first feeding canal caretaker had made the initial canal into the forest to bring water to the only feeding circle. As more circles were added, the canal had grown in length, and width. Now, there were four feeding circles. Would Bramblyn know where to most logically place the fifth circle?

Bramblyn paced along the trails. She went back over a few sections more than once. Her hands drew shapes in the air.

Zowie smiled and nodded as she could see her trainee's eyes widen, and hope restored some of her fear with excitement.

Bramblyn returned and sat beside Zowie on the chilled ground. “I've never actually walked on the canal feeding paths before. We aren't supposed to.”

“Do you know why?”

Bramblyn nodded. “Young ones tend to like to throw things in. The river doesn't always like that. Food is good. Not rocks, or sticks, that might hurt a fish, or small ones, we can't see.”

“Is the ground soft in the feeding circles?”

“Not soft enough for planting. Some ice shards shimmer in the planting holes.”

Zowie reached into her tunic. “This is a planting digging tool. Try to practice digging a small section of canal. Or show me what the canal looks like, and where to place the next feeding circle.”

Bramblyn took the tool in her hands and held it carefully. “Do you plant?”

“I help keep the plants out of the pathways. As you will one day.” She leaned her back against the tree and prepared to take a short nap. Or appeared to. Her ears listened. And eyes opened just enough to watch Bramblyn from a distance.

Bramblyn had taken the tool to the closest feeding area. Bare ground covered by the remnant of last growth season's leaves and long grasses from a nearby meadow. It was the largest, about the size of a hut encircled by a feeding canal.

She peered at the landscape around her, then sat down. She dug shallow canals, barely deep enough to be seen, to represent the existing canal. The sun shifted through the dry and fluttering leaves. Stone scraped on dirt and rotting plant material awakening fresh soil.

“Finished. I think.” Bramblyn sat in the middle of the circle. Her eyes crossed as she glanced back and forth at the four feeding circles.

Zowie used her walking sticks to pull herself up. She walked over and looked. The lines weren't perfectly straight. However, some of the stones were visible where Bramblyn had drawn around them, rather than removing them. It showed the current four circles. And a fifth at the top, partially into where a dozen trees now stood.

“I don't like it. If we take away the shade, some of the feeding circles might receive too much sunshine. Plants won't grow as well, and the fish won't be happy.” Bramblyn looked up at her. Her lip trembled. “Did I draw it right?”

Zowie nodded. “You know the lore. What do you think needs to happen?” It was a test. And it could go wrong. If Bramblyn, hanging on by a thread, became scared of failing, she would run. And might not return. This was her last placement chance in the village, and she knew it. She might have to leave if Zowie didn't accept her. Zowie blinked back a tear. She knew that fear.

“I.” Bramblyn took a deep gulp. Her face twitched. As did her arms and legs. She shifted to sit up straighter. “I think we can manage one more feeding circle, if we add bushes along the edges to add shade to current circles. Or shift where we plant.”

Zowie looked down at her new trainee. If only she could sit on the ground with her, and they could see from the same viewpoint. There was so much to share. So much knowledge to pass, before the next growing season.

And so much to do now. Before the cold season. She had to carefully tread the ground. To encourage Bramblyn, and prepare the canal ready before planting time. “Come.” She led the way back to the bench.

Bramblyn sat on the ground looking up at her.

“A new house needs to be built. We will call for a small group of trees to be removed. Then, we will begin preparing the canal to grow. Once the land is cleared, your digging tool will be ready. And so will you.” Zowie smiled. “Are you prepared to go inform the villagers of our plan?”

Bramblyn nodded. Tears leaked from her eyes. This time, tears of joy. She jumped up and ran across the feeding circle splattering her drawing. She stopped. She walked back to the canal trail and followed it at a quick pace to the wider path that led to the village.

The drawing, though now slightly splattered, would be there to show the tree cutters where to cut. And the cold season would be a busy one. Children would gather bushes in the forest, and transport them for planting to the edges of the feeding circles.

Perhaps berry bushes that could drop berries into the canal to feed the fish, to feed the plants the community thrived on. The feeding circles could expand the width of the bushes further into the forest canopy. A slight adjustment, and their village would still be fed. As would the river.

END

Gail Brown

Gail Brown’s paired stories mirror daily life as it could be. Perhaps should be, in some ways. Gail's novels are on her website, and short stories have appeared in Alien Dimensions, Bards and Sages, Earth 2100 (Other Worlds Ink), Kaleidoscope, Lorelei Signal, and The Neurodiversiverse Anthology, among others.