INTO THE SEA OF TREES

Luis Saavedra

“Forgive me.” He doesn't want to say it; it feels like a clumsy sentence, even a cowardly one. She deserves something better. “Thanks,” he finally says. The little doll tilts, but he already knows every gesture and that means conformity. It's cold, but it's a beautiful day with a blue, unreal sky made of gloss paper and cotton. The crows are far, far away and a hum of leaves enclose them. “I have to leave you here, I don’t know where else I could, but it’s not because I want to.” It’s true, old people gradually lose their will, they bend against the time and decisions of others, accept that life comes out from hands and mouths of children, grandchildren and authoritarian but friendly strangers. “It's my son, you know? He wants me to go with him.” The doll was a gift for his 68^th birthday, a gift that only he knew about, for nights of snow and memories, a gift of ion-engine’s warmth and peach-colored silicon. When she opened her eyes, she fell in love and their love was encoded into a three-dimensional flash storage, deep inside her head. Perfect, made by demand for his need for something more sublime than a brutal desire. “I don’t know how to explain to him that you were with me, I don’t know how I could....” Sometimes to feel her presence on the right side of the bed was enough to shut the dead up. Sometimes it was necessary to make love to her slowly, so close to her white, bright skin. With her head tilted to one side and his mouth slightly open. He was always checking his own sighs, every time longer and more laborious. “I was confident that you couldn't complain, I dedicated myself to you since I first saw you.” The doll wears simple dress: a black skirt and a banana-colored shirt. Her hands are crossed on her knees, and she sits on her heels. A very short hair, very round face, very outlined lips and eyes black as a feather of a thrush. A little girl with breasts that fit perfectly in a man's hand, he met her in a dream fifteen years after the death of Naoko. In the dream, he was surrounded by his family, that eventually turned into a bunch of noisy crows, but he ignored them, and he told her with blatant security: “I'm tired of being alone.” She smiled and answered “yes”, and he welcomed the displeasure of the others. Weeks later he received at home the huge package that was only a dream. “I wish I could bring you with me, but it would be so wrong....” He saw the face of his son puzzled at first, then annoyed. Of course, it would be so thoughtless to bring dishonor to his family. But there are no crows right now. Again, he thinks about the perfect day in the middle of nowhere, alone with her, as it had been the last few years. He stands up painfully and shakes the wilted leaves from his pants, he takes a big breath and waits until the ground stops waving. He realizes that his hand doesn’t tremble when he caresses the beloved head of the doll with her eyes full of love for him, as always. He was so scared then, because she was his ultimate fantasy and by abandoning her, he surrenders his will. “I have to go now.” The manual says that he will find the capsule to trigger the destruction of the memory modules, in the neck. His fingers move awkwardly, but he finally finds the slightly tumor and press it hardly until it gives in, and he imagines the head draining like a broken clepsydra. He watches the doll's eyes growing darker each time. If he could know a word that signifies gratitude, love, give the world’s beauty and the whole complex of lightning in his mind, he would say it. But this way is better, because of the few things he has learned in life, that silence is the best way to express all these feelings he has inside. He doesn't look back and the doll remains on the path of the forest, like a kind stranger. Suddenly he feels old and really concerned. He feels there’s nothing for him anymore, it’s time to go. When he exits the forest, he counts few coins for the bus back to the city and again thinks that it is a beautiful day without crows. Days like these last forever.

Luis Saavedra Vargas (Santiago, Chile, 1971) was the director of the Chilean science fiction fanzine Fobos (1998-2004) and editor of the science fiction anthologies Pulsares (2002-2004). His short stories have been published in Años luz (Chile); the digital anthology Schegge Di Futuro (Italy); and Dimension Latino (France); among others. His story “Ol’fairies Bar” was a finalist in the 2005 Domingo Santos competition (Spain). He is a founding member of Grupo Poliedro, dedicated to fantasy literature, and his first solo book, Lentos Animales Interdimensionales was published in 2021.