Among Giant Leaves: Magical Realism

Precarious World

A sound makes me turn around quickly in the mud, knocking the leaves around me in a twirl. It's Atar. What is he doing here in our world? I didn't know anyone else could come in. Maybe what we want is happening — maybe he's learning the completeness of the ways of harmony with the land.

"The window was left open," he says. "And a bird had flown in and was singing tremendously inside."

"What were you doing inside the house?"

"The door was unlocked. I was bringing the contract for you to sign. I saw this odd version of the jungle through the window. I climbed into it, and I hardly fit."

"What! How strange."

"As you know, I'm not a fat man. I was surprised by how far down the jump took me. It seemed to be an infinite amount of time. The leaves broke my fall, though. That switched everything around I think, when I crossed the window's threshold. It was worthwhile, though. Now I see where you two have been disappearing to. To this fecundity and hyper-detail. The leaves are still growing, aren't they?"

He's right: there is no door on the wall we always fade through; there's only the small window, high up. And who would think to go through that into a world that's made of us, until now? What a rude man. Intruder.

The whole time he talks loudly, he walks thoughtlessly through the high leaves, crunching them under foot, standing on the balls of his feet, peering to find us, going toward the places where the leaves are being disturbed, under the hot sun. We walk calmly away from him, zigzagging and separating. Life can remain good without that awful voice. We can enjoy our time — together. Maybe he'll wander far enough off we can just forget about him for a while.

I get an uneasy feeling. I don't know what. What might happen if she and I get separated, get too far away from each other, considering this world is made of us? If we're all the way entranced inside it, will it swallow us up, or drop us into the nethers?

I wonder if she walked away from me through the leaves for some reason I hadn't thought about. Now, I'm getting hot with that thought. The sun is making me swat, and the leave are sharp, coming toward my eyes as they angle down before my face. Turning this way and that, I'm wounding them, as they go down and lie there. What if she is very angry at me about something? That would shake this world to bits.