Alba had tied her shoes tightly and taken her neighbor's bicycle down to the railroad station. She had long thought if they just put the trains in opposing queues on parallel tracks and ran them one after another people would get a lot more races in. As it was she really only had the chance to race once before she got hungry and headed back.
When she got home she had a new Nephew or something.
"Alba, this is the new boy..." Frau Holda said as she introduced her to a wooden boy standing where the old Cedar had grown, which was now just a fresh, moist stump beneath his shoes. "Bérénice stopped by while you were out and carved him. He was running around naked so we had to put him in some of your old clothes..."
Frau Holda went back to her chores and left Alba with the new boy, who stood atop the stump of Cedar which she and Bérénice used to play under. Alba took this in. She realized her hands were tired from gripping the bicycle's handle bars. "Bérénice didn't stay?”
“No,” he said.
“I liked that tree,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said.
That wasn't quite what she meant. “Did she say anything?”
“She said that sometimes to save a thing you must destroy it...”
“Oh. Anything else?”
“She told me to ask you to name me. But she said you wouldn't know what my name was yet.”
“You're not named Tree?”
“No. ...not anymore.”
“Oh. Well. I suppose it's nice to meet you then.”
"Hello." The boy replied. His voice had a sort of soft flute quality she decided. He smelled like the tool shed after a rainstorm... While she wasn't quite listening he asked her how her morning had been. She considered him, wondering if he'd stay on that stump forever. She set the bike down and sat in the grass, "I was in a race. I lost. How was yours?"
"I got cut out of myself," he said.
"What's that like, being created?"
"Itchy. Mrs. Frekke says she has some linseed oil for me to bathe in later."
"Have you stood there all day?"
"No... I ran around a lot in the beginning. Whenever I stop moving though it feels strange ...being someplace else."
"You'll get used to it, I'm sure. We all do. Why didn't Bérénice name you when she made you?"
“She didn't make me. She just cut the rest away from me. I've been growing for a while.”
“I know. We used to play under you...”
“I saw. Why did you burn your house down?”
After some confusion, she realized he meant the playhouse. "It wasn't completely burned down. I was trying to bake cookies," she said a bit crossly.
"I'd like to try cookies," he offered.
"I was lighting the stove..."
"The wooden stove?"
"It was a stove. That is what stoves are for. It was stupid to make it out of wood." She hadn't realized what she'd said until she'd already said it, and added quickly, "I didn't mean anything by that... just that things that are supposed to hold fire shouldn't be wood..."
He nodded, looking at his fingers as he flexed them... "No it's true... Fire is dangerous."
“My friend Cici says that trees have bones. Is that true?”
“I think it is now... so yes... except I'm not a tree anymore, so maybe not.”
She watched him sit down on the stump next to her, “Listen... what kind of name would you like?”
“I already have a name,” he corrected her, “You just haven't given it to me yet. What's your dog's name?” he asked.
Alba was confused. “I don't have a dog. There are some chickens next door, and Holda has cats...”
“No,” the boy said, “You have a dog. Maybe you haven't met him yet.”
They both noticed it was getting late. She asked him, "Do you like sunsets?"
"Yeah, but sometimes," he said while stretching his fingers out towards the horizon, "they make me a little hungry."
Alba went inside and got some sandwiches. They both sat and watched the colors in the sky.
Boy discovered he liked cucumber with cream cheese.
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