For the first few days there were many of them along the roads. They carried their belongings on their backs, while one family had a wagon with old rattling wheels. They camped together in a large gathering, building only two or three fires to cook and sit by as a kind of great extended family. But slowly, day by day, each group found their own pace and purpose along the roads and progressed on away from the others. Until it was that one day young Avery noticed her and her father were walking all alone.

            She stopped in the middle of the road, all at once aware of it. A low breeze swept through the tall grasses that skirted their way.

            “Where has everyone gone,” she asked.

            Her father took off his cap and dusted his brow with the back of his hand. He squinted in the sun, the edges of his eyes crinkling with lines that had once been born of laughter but now were silent.

            “People move along at their own way,” her father said. “And we should too.”

            Avery looked up and down the length of the long road. It was a strange sight to see that they were alone. There were trees along the road, but they were bare of leaves and somehow this made the place seem all the more deserted. The thin branches swayed in a high wind. Avery had a hollow feeling in her stomach.

            “I hope we always stay together at least,” she said.

            The wind blew stronger in the trees.

            “Come along.”

~

            They camped that night at the foot of the first hill that began the long climb into the mountains. It would take them several days to reach the first summit. The pass wound up through the hills, and the road was narrow along the cliff’s edge. It was clear that many other families had come this way in their own time, but Avery and her father were now the only people to rest at the landing. A large communal firepit remained built in the place, charred with half-burned logs from the most recent travelers. Avery’s father built a fire within it and warmed some beans and laid out their sleeping rolls.

            Avery sat beside her father as it got dark and the fire grew brighter. A strong wind blew, and the fire whistled and roared, the flames flickered and leapt.

            They were both of them silent, whether mentally preparing for the journey ahead or reminiscing on some private moment from the places they had come from. Her father had removed his cap, and he absently rubbed the top of his balding head. Avery didn’t mind her father’s silence. She had become used to it. Sometimes it was nice just to be there with him, knowing he was beside her…

            “Avery…”

            She looked up. “Yes,” she said.

            Her father looked down at her. “Yes?” he said.

            “I thought…” Avery was about to explain, but she seemed to realize in that moment that her father had not said her name. They had been sitting in silence with the fire. Moreover, she knew her father’s voice well. The voice she had heard — the voice she thought she’d heard — had been familiar, but it had not been his…

            “What did you think?” her father asked.

            “Nothing,” Avery said, and she snuggled closer beside him.

~

            The next morning while the ashes of the fire smouldered, they packed up their rolls and began the hike up the hill along the mountain road. Avery’s father walked ahead and Avery followed. He paused every so often to keep pace with her. When they went on, her father whistled a little tune from back home, and at times Avery hummed along and even sang the words that she remembered.

            Around midday, they found a spot among some shrub trees for a break, and they drank water from the canteen and ate a small lunch portioned out from their supply. The road was narrower ahead along the cliff’s edge, and the wind was blowing in sudden gusts. Avery’s father seemed wary of their going, and he stood scratching his head and peering up along the way while Avery ate.

            There was a length of rope in their main pack, and her father thought of it then. He had a vague idea of using it to tie himself and Avery together for safety. He scratched his head and put his cap back on. It seemed to him that he was being too cautious. He would keep Avery close beside him at the inside of the narrow road.

            Starting again, they followed the pass as it rose up around the mountainside. It was on the far side, when the road braced the outer edge of the range and the wind whipped up with a whistling howl that the accident occurred.

            It began when a sudden gust blew Avery’s father’s cap off his head. He twisted within the force of it, as if to reach out and catch his cap, but it was swiftly lost beyond the edge of the cliff.

            Avery turned out as well.

            She had not seen the wind blow the cap from her father’s head. She had followed only that her father had all of a sudden spun around in the wind. She had even thought she heard him call her name.

            “Avery…”

            In her own capacity, she had moved off from the wall to grab hold of him. But her quick step brought her out into the force of the wind…

            Avery’s father surrendered the loss of his cap with a disappointed huff. There was nothing to be done. He turned back to the way of the road.

            It was a strange sight he beheld when he faced forward. It seemed a moment suspended in time. His heart sank and exploded all in the same held breath. If he had a scream or a cry or a call of help from within him, he had not the time to release it.

            He saw his daughter for a split second, in the air, swept up in a gust of wind, going over the edge of the cliff…

            And then she was gone.

~

            Avery fell. The gust of wind had lifted her off her feet, but she hadn’t screamed. She had thought something bad is happening. There wasn’t time for anything else. And there was nothing she could do anyway. Her breath was swept away, and she had only a recurring thought I am falling I am falling I am falling…

            “Avery…”

            There was an outcrop some distance below the height of the road they had been travelling. It jutted from the side of the cliff in a wide V-shape. Avery did not know it was there. She did not see it coming, approaching fast, as she plummeted.

            But then all at once something slowed her.

            “Avery…”

            A gust of warm air swarmed below her, like a cushion, and Avery felt herself almost bounce once upon it. Then she came down again, much more slowly, very softly, held in the cushion of warm wind, and landed safely on the outcrop.

            She lay for a moment on the hard stone.

            “Avery…”

            Was it her father calling her?

            Her ears were ringing. She pulled herself up onto her elbow. Small pebbles flecked her palms. Opening her eyes, her vision stung in flashes of white. She blinked. She could breathe now.

            “Avery!”

            Itwas her father’s voice. She looked up. She couldn’t see him. Just a voice calling down to her. She blinked again and the world distilled. She saw the cliffside ¾ grey brown rock and green stems sprouting up the wall. She looked higher.

            There was her father. His head and one of his arms were poking over the edge. Was he lying down? He was far away. She had fallen, but not too far. Not completely lost.

            “Stay there!” he called. “Don’t move! I’m coming down to get you!”

            Avery sat up. Her ears were still ringing, but she was surprisingly unhurt. She patted her palms together and dusted away the little pebbles. They left little indents on her skin.

            The outcrop was fairly wide across, but she did not want to move around too much. It was fully exposed to the open air, save for the backside against the cliff. She looked up again. She could not imagine how her father was going to come down to get her. She looked along the wall of the cliff, spying for crags and footholds. Would it be possible to climb back up?

            “Avery…”

            She turned to face the open air at the far point of the outcrop. The wind was surprisingly still. She couldn’t even hear the whip and howl as it had been above.

            And then, as she watched, a whirl of wind swept across the outcrop, lifting the small pebbles and stones into a swirling dance in the air. For a moment it was as if a tiny cyclone had been channelled there on the outcrop in front of her. All of it happening in relative silence. And then the vortex settled and the stones and pebbles coalesced within the wind into the shape and form of a young girl. A near mirroring of Avery herself…

            “Hello,” said the wind. “I hope you are not hurt from your fall. The first of many, I’m afraid.”

            “Did you catch me?” Avery asked.

            “I did,” said the wind.

            Avery made a face. “Did you also pull me off the cliff?”

            The wind swayed in place. “I did,” it said.

            “Why would you do that?”

            “I wanted you to come with me.”     

            “Where? Down here?”

            “Everywhere,” said the wind.

            Avery said nothing. She looked back up the wall of the cliffside, but she did not see her father anymore. Perhaps he was returning down the way they had come? Perhaps he was going to find help? The wind of stones and pebbles rustled and swept closer to her.

            “Are you frightened?” asked the wind.

            “I don’t know,” Avery said. “I think so. Maybe a little.”

            “It’s all right to be frightened,” said the wind. “I am frightened, too, sometimes.”

            “You are frightened?” Avery seemed almost shocked at the idea. “How can you be frightened?”

            The young girl’s face that the wind formed took on a curious look. “How can I not?” the wind said. “I am often alone. The world is such a big place. And things move very fast. One moment you are in place, and the next you are somewhere else completely.”

            Avery considered this… And she thought of her father, and she heard him humming their old songs… And she thought of her mother, and she saw her face… And all their old neighbours…

            “I miss my home,” she said.

            “Why did you leave?” asked the wind.

            Avery shrunk into herself a moment, a memory pulling her back. “The river grew up,” she said. “Everything flooded. The fields. The roads. Our house was washed away. Everyone started moving away.”

            “I am always moving,” said the wind. “That is my nature. It gets easier.”

            Avery looked up at the cliffside again, and at that moment she saw her father’s head poke over the edge. His arm came out like he was waving, and then something was falling down through the air. Like a long snake. It stopped and slapped against the cliffside. It was a rope.

            Her father seemed to be shouting something. His arm moving. But Avery couldn’t hear him. Then he was gone again from the top of the wall.

            Avery looked back to the wind in the shape of the girl. The little pebbles and stones were ever-swirling, slowed in an effortless embodiment.

            “I didn’t mean to take you away from your father,” the wind said. “But I wanted to meet you. Just this once. Though I think we will meet again.”

            “What is your name?” Avery asked.

            “Don’t you know?” said the wind. “My name is your name: Avery.”

            A small shower of rocks came off the cliff wall, and Avery looked up again. Her father was climbing down the rope. The end of it had stopped a few feet above the landing of the outcrop.

             “You have a long journey ahead of you,” the wind said. “You will go many places from here. You might never stop and settle. You will feel alone at times, and unfortunately, you will be frightened again and again. You might never find a place like where you came from.”

            Avery put her head down. Her face had flushed, and she felt tears coming to her eyes. “Why are you saying these things. I don’t like it.”

            “Because I want you to know,” said the wind. “I want you to be prepared now.”

            “I don’t like it.”

            “And I want you to know that I will always be with you.”

            Avery looked up. In that moment ¾ and she couldn’t explain why or how ¾ but she felt that she was sitting across from her mother…

            “You will be okay,” the wind said. “Remember me, when you need to.”

            A few more stones showered down the wall, and Avery turned to see her father reaching the bottom of the rope. From the edge of her eye, the shape of the girl in the wind came apart in a sudden whirl. The small stones and pebbles scattered to the ground. Avery felt the soft departing breeze grace her cheek…

            Then her father was at her side.

            He helped her sit up. Had she not been sitting up?

            Her ears seemed to pop ¾ and all at once she heard the wind rushing around them on the outcrop. Her father was frazzled, checking her all over.

            “You have broken your ankle, my angel,” he said.

            “No, I haven’t—” Avery started, but then she looked down and saw how her foot was twisted at a strange angle. And then the pain hit her. It was all at once very hot, stinging, burning, and her whole leg was throbbing. She gave a small yelp and then clamped her mouth shut tight with a hard look of childish determination. Tears welled in her eyes.

            “It was a hard fall,” her father said. “But thank goodness. Thank goodness. Thank goodness, you are alive.” He was trying to catch his breath. “It will be all right.”

            But I was fine, Avery was thinking. The wind caught me. How did this happen? And she was thinking of the shape of the wind, the voice of the wind, and the girl she had met… Avery.

            “Come now, darling. You’ll have to hold onto my back to climb. Then I will carry you,” her father said.

            He turned around in front of her to hook her hands around his neck. It hurt for Avery to move her leg, but she was thinking about the wind…

            “It’ll be all right, darling,” her father said. “Hold onto my back. I’ll carry you.”

            Avery put her arms around her father’s neck, but she was thinking about the wind. She was thinking about her home, and how she fell, and all the days to come. She was thinking of the wind in the shape of the girl…

            And she whispered, “I will carry you.”

The End