Will bush's Arc

Chapter 40 of 41

The morning after the cottage, Will and Kate walked out into the meadow. The collie ran ahead through the grass. Kate carried two mugs. Will carried a plate of cake she had found waiting on the counter, white icing with small purple flowers pressed into it. They stopped at a flat rock near a wall of tangled green branches. The hedge grew thick and wild along the meadow's edge, taller than either of them. Something moved inside it. A small hand pushed the leaves aside, and a gnome stepped out. He was no taller than Kate's knee. His head was small under a crown of leaves. His beard reached his belt. He looked at the plate first and Will second. "You're new," the gnome said. "We are," Kate said. "Pimble Smallskull." He wiped his hands on his robe. "I heard the door open last night. I don't come close to new doors. They shut again." "This one won't," Will said. Pimble looked at him a long moment. Then he nodded once, the way a man nods at a fencepost he has tested. "Sit with us," Kate said. "There's cake." Pimble climbed onto the rock. Kate cut him a piece. He ate it in small bites and drank coffee from her mug when she offered it. He held the mug in both hands like it was heavy. "Two sugars," he said. "Always," Will said. Pimble set the mug down. "My people live past the hedge. We had a garden once. Butterflies came through it in summer. They stopped coming three winters back." Kate looked at Will. Will looked at the empty meadow beyond the rock. He thought of the daisies he had watched for five years. He thought of the flowers Kate had planted that had followed her here. "We could plant one," Kate said. "A butterfly garden. For your people." Pimble's small head tilted. "You would do that." "Yes," Will said. Pimble climbed down from the rock. He walked to a bare patch of ground near the hedge and pressed his ear to the dirt. He listened. Then he stood and marked a square with his heel. "Here," he said. "The ground is willing." Kate went back to the cottage and returned with seeds she had not packed. Will dug with his hands. The soil was soft and dark. Kate scattered the seeds and pressed them down. Pimble watched and gave short instructions. Deeper. Wider. Leave room. By the time the sun was overhead, the patch was planted. A pink butterfly landed on Kate's wrist and stayed there. Pimble looked at the butterfly. "They know already." He walked back to the hedge and stopped at its edge. "I'll bring the others tomorrow. They'll want to see." "Bring them for cake," Kate said. Pimble nodded and pushed through the leaves. The hedge closed behind him. Will sat down beside Kate in the new dirt. The collie flopped between them. For the first time, the meadow felt like it had a neighbor.