PRODIGAL
It was a small, privately-maintained park on the northern edge of Greenwich Village, half an already-tiny triangular city block. The signs asked that visitors please stick to the walkways, but Jessica knew she couldn’t hurt the grass. Each of her steps left strange little swirls in her wake because the grass bent toward her whenever her foot touched down.
It was the middle of summer and butterflies gently stroked the air around the flowers. There were no other people. Sensing her approach, the park had gently planted in the mind of each of its occupants that it was time for them to leave.
She smiled up at the sky, ready to be closer to it. She reached her tree and placed her hand against the bark. Its pulse was silent and measured in months rather than seconds, but she could still feel it, strong and eventual. In the branches above, the birds began singing, their song a magic meant to soften the reality here. The lightest of enchantments, but it was enough. The world still desired to be a place of wonder, and it took very little to convince it it was.
She had enjoyed her month out—her errands upstate and to the other parks—but nothing felt like home. She pushed against the tree’s trunk and it gave way, gently taking hold of her fingers. Her minds called out to one another: the part of her that called itself Jessica, and the part of her that was always here in the park, standing patiently.
It would be thirteen months before she’d have to split herself like this again. She pushed again and began to seep into the tree, being quickly diluted in its flow. Her clothes slid off, falling into a colored pattern at her roots. She left them there on purpose. The park’s new emissary could use them.
She stretched, the tributary of her thoughts joining the river of the rest of her. She stretched, feeling more than just the sunlight’s brightness. Feeling its nourishment. She stretched until she could no longer move by thought alone, but only as the breeze moved her.
She was home. Whole. The park welcomed her back and she smiled a smile no one could see. The birds were still singing. She no longer had hands, but she was still able to hold them. All of them.
