Red Strings

The red string vibrated, giving it weight and charge. Two other strings, one blue and one green, but identical to each other in every other way, were tied to the red string. If anything tried to split them apart, an invisible force would pull them together. The red string was very small, the force was more than enough to keep it where it was. 

Together the three strings formed the proton in the nucleus of an oxygen atom. The atom was part of a molecule of water inside a round cell. The cell was being pumped through a myriad of tubes, small tubes, large tubes, branching tubes, tubes going up, tubes going down, around and around, each round trip taking about twenty seconds. This went on for quite awhile until one day one of the tubes burst, spilling its contents into the surrounding area.

In this area, bundles of elastic fibers connected hard, porous structures to groups of striated fibers and to themselves. The striated fibers would contract, moving the hard structures around in relation to one another. This entire system of moving parts was encased in a thin, translucent membrane which prevented the red blood cell and its neighbors from escaping completely. As the blood leaked out of the artery, it accumulated so that if you looked at the skin from the other side, it changed in color from a pale, milky pink to a deep purple.

*

“Damnit,” Anna said. She sat in the grass and massaged her sprained and bruised right ankle. As she leaned forward to look at it, her tangled, brown hair fell over her sweat-beaded forehead. She had taken off her hiking boot and her cotton sock and placed them next to her large backpack. She cursed silently to herself for not seeing that fallen branch.

Chris leaned over her shoulder, resting his hands on his knees, a look of concern on his young, scruffy face. “Are you OK?” he asked, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat away from the wavy, dark blond hair plastered to his brow.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think I’ll be all right. It’s only about half a mile to my uncle’s cabin, anyway. I can make it. Let me just wrap it up.” She opened her backpack and pulled out a first aid kit. “Good thing you’re so paranoid.” Anna smiled, her thin lips splitting to show her teeth.

“I’m not paranoid, I’m just prepared,” Chris said.

“Damnit, Chris, I was just kidding.” She sighed. “You’ve got to relax.” She took an ACE bandage out of the first aid kit, wrapped it around her ankle, and taped it in place. “Help me up.” Chris crouched down and she put her arm around his shoulders. He placed his arm around her back and lifted her to her feet, having to stoop over since he was so much taller than her. Anna tried to put weight on her ankle and grimaced. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

“It’s OK,” he said. “Just lean on me. It’s only half a mile, right? We can make it.” He smiled at her, his already rosy cheeks darkening.

“What about our stuff?”

“I’ll come back for it. It’ll be fine. There’s probably not another person around here for miles.” He frowned. “I suppose that wasn’t the most comforting thing to say.”

“No, but it’s not people I’m worried about. It’s the food.”

“So? I haven’t exactly seen a ton of wildlife around.”

Anna grinned. “That’s because they smell you coming and they run away. Trust me, there’s plenty of animals around. Raccoons, coyotes, maybe even a black bear.”

“Coyotes? I didn’t think there were any this far north,” he said. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“Then don’t be stupid. Coyotes are everywhere. I saw one in my backyard last summer. If they can find their way into my yard, they can find their way up here. Anyway, put me down. Take our stuff to the cabin then come back for me.”

He shook his head. “First of all, I’m not leaving you out here alone. Second, and this is really kind of important, it’s your uncle’s cabin. I’ve never been there. I have no idea where it is.”

“Damnit,” she said. “I should have thought of that.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“OK then, I guess we’re going to the cabin.”

They started moving forward. Anna hopped along on her left leg using Chris as a crutch, her injured ankle dangling between them. They followed a faint dirt path covered in pine needles that had been carved into the rolling forest floor, dodging the stones and patches of mud that littered the way. The trees weren’t very dense and every so often a shaft of afternoon sunlight hit their faces. A cool breeze rustled through the top of the forest, carrying with it the smell of pine.

“You know, this is pretty nice,” Chris said.

“I know,” Anna said. “That’s why we’re here.” They were visiting her Uncle Tony’s cabin to get away from civilization for awhile. The summer break was almost over and in less than a month she’d be back at college working on her senior thesis and figuring out if she was going to apply to grad school. She wanted to spend some time with Chris before she got too busy to see him. They had known each other since they were ten. “Oh, and thanks.”

His brow furrowed. “Um, OK. You’re welcome, but uh, what for? I wasn’t exactly going to leave you behind.”

“For coming up here with me. You didn’t have to.” Anna almost felt guilty for asking him in the first place. She knew Chris would do anything for her. 

“I’m your best friend. Of course I did.” Chris smiled. “Besides, if I didn’t, they’d be finding your corpse in a few weeks. Headline: ‘Young Woman Dies After Tripping Over Her Own Feet In Forest!’”

“Shut up.” She tried to push him away, but he held on.

He smiled again. “Keep pushing. I’ll let go and leave you here for the coyotes.”

“Whatever. I’m too bony for them anyway. It would be worth their time to hunt you down so they could get a real meal.”

“Now you’re making cracks about my weight. I’m letting go for real this time.” Chris took his arm away for a second and Anna tottered, but he grabbed her again before she could fall.

“Damnit, Chris, that wasn’t funny.”

Chris laughed. “I’m pretty sure it was.”

“Fine, let me just look around so I can find a walking stick. Then I can beat you to death with it and limp home.”

“You’d have to catch me first, Hopalong.”

Anna laughed. “All right. Why don’t we just get to the cabin?” And they continued stumbling on through the forest on the same path Anna’s uncle had first led her down ten years before.

*

“Come on, Anna. You can do it. We’re almost there.”

“But I’m tired, Uncle Tony,” Anna said. “My feet hurt.”

Anthony smiled. He rubbed the top of Anna’s head then bent down to kiss her forehead.

Anna squirmed and her little hand shot up and pushed against Anthony’s bushy, black beard. “Stop it, Uncle Tony, it tickles.”

“Sorry, pumpkin. Get on.” He turned and crouched down so Anna could climb onto his back. He stood up and started carrying her piggyback down the trail. “So how was school this year?”

“It was great,” Anna said.

Anthony turned his head to the side so he could look at Anna out of the corner of his eye. “Really?” he asked.

Anna nodded. “Yeah. I made a new best friend. I learned about all kinds of stuff.”

Anthony checked the path for any rocks in the way then looked back again. “Like what?”

“Dinosaurs and ancient Egypt and fractions. When I grow up, I think I want to be an archaeologist.”

“Like Indiana Jones?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “No. That’s just a movie. My teacher said that real archaeology is about getting to know how people used to live before us. And you get to go to lots of cool places and dig cool stuff up.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds fun.” Anthony stepped carefully around a muddy puddle in the middle of the path. “So why don’t you tell me about your new best friend?”

“His name is Chris. He just started going to my school this year. At first some of the kids were mean to him because he’s really quiet and kind of chubby, but I told them to be nice to him because my Uncle Tony always told me that if you’re nice to people then they’ll be nice to you. And you were right, ‘cause now he’s really nice to me. Whenever his mom packs his lunch, she gives him two pieces of fruit, and he always gives one to me.”

“That’s good. It sounds like he likes you. Is he your boyfriend?” The corner of Anthony’s lip turned up, a half-smirk.

Anna balled up one of her hands and pounded on Anthony’s shoulder. “Uncle Tony! Ew! I’m too young to have a boyfriend, and even if I wasn’t, boys are gross. I mean, why do boys and girls even kiss? Whenever I see Mom and Dad… Ew.”

Anthony laughed. “You’ll understand when you get older, pumpkin. Someday you’ll find a nice boy, fall in love, and forget all about how gross he is.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Everybody falls in love sometime.”

“Then how come you’ve never had a girlfriend?”

Anthony’s lips still formed a smile, but the mirth drained from the rest of his face. “It’s a long story, pumpkin,” he said in a lower tone. “I might tell you someday when you’re older.”

Anna sighed. “No one tells you anything when you’re a kid.”

That brought a real smile back to Anthony’s face. “Don’t worry,” he said, “you’re getting older every day.”

*

About twenty minutes later, they stumbled across the cabin. The clearing was large enough that no tree branches hung over the house. The cabin itself was made of rough wooden boards and it had a low sloping roof. Anna felt a twinge of sadness. It was the first time she had been back since her uncle had died.

Chris helped her inside and set her down onto the couch left of the door. The couch was upholstered in a rough, burnt umber and burnt orange tweed. “Wow, this is the ugliest couch I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s older than I am. My Uncle Tony furnished this place in the 70’s,” Anna said.

“No, I never would have guessed.” Chris shook his head. “You gonna be okay here?”

“I’ll be fine. Get our stuff before the raccoons do.”

“All righty. Be safe.”

“You, too. Don’t get lost.”

Chris smiled. “I won’t,” he said. Then he walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Now Anna was alone in the cabin. She looked around. Everything was as she remembered it. There was a twin bed in the back right corner and bookshelves over a desk with a chair next to it. The bookshelves over the desk were filled with French books from when her uncle had studied in Paris. A little kitchen nook with a fireplace was tucked around the corner to the left and the bathroom was on her near left. There was a coffee table in front of the couch and that was it.

Anna rubbed her hand across the fabric of the couch and grimaced. Bracing herself on the arm of the couch, she stood on her good foot then hopped over to the foot of the bed and sat down. She slid down the bed until she was even with the front of the desk. It was just in arm’s reach. She reached into her pocket, took out the small key her uncle had left her, and unlocked the bottom drawer. She pulled it out, but it was empty. She closed the drawer and leaned back. 

Anna frowned. In the last few years of his life, she was the only one her uncle had let come visit him. No friends, no lovers, not even her mom - his own sister. Just his only niece. He had promised to tell her the story when she got older, but the end had been too quick.

Anna scratched her chin then pulled the drawer out again. She looked inside the drawer. It wasn’t quite as deep as it should have been. On the bottom of the drawer all the way in the back there was a circular opening just large enough for a finger. She pulled on the hole and the bottom of the drawer popped out. Inside there was a bundle of about a dozen letters tied together with a red string. Anna pulled the letters out of the drawer and untied the bundle. She opened the first letter. It was written in French. She had always wondered why her uncle had insisted she take French in high school and college, and now she understood. She began to read.

*

My Dearest Anthony,

I do not have much time and I’m not sure that this letter will even reach you, but I must try. Most of the city has evacuated, but my father is stubborn and has refused to leave. But the rocket attacks have begun again, and finally he has realized that we have to go while we still can get a flight to Bangkok. We are just waiting for my brother to return from Prek Phnou. My mother will not leave without him. Then we can go and perhaps one day you and I will be together again.

But the waiting is tedious. Most of the city has shut down and parts of it are deserted. The only silver lining is my friend Phirun. Do you remember in Paris how I would tell you of the boy who saved me when I fell into the river? I found him under the palm trees near the bank where he pulled me out. I do not know how I could get through the days without him. We talk of the happier times before the troubles began. Our conversations are the only time when I laugh or even smile anymore.

I have to go. My brother is due back in a few hours and I need to help my mother pack what we can. When we gotten away and matters have settled down, I will write you again, and I hope I will have happier news. Perhaps I will even be able to meet you in Paris again. Until then my heart is with you. But if it is not meant to be, if something should happen to me, I hope you can move on and find happiness.

Forever yours,

Chanthou

*

Anthony put the letter down. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He couldn’t be sure how many times he had read it. The postmark from Phnom Penh was dated six months ago and it was the last letter she’d sent. That could mean several things and while none of them were good, some were worse than others. At best, he hoped she had found someone else, someone who could take care of her while he was stuck thousands of miles away. At worst, well, he tried not to think about it. His family sent him clippings of the articles in Time and he knew it was only a matter of time before the communists reached the city. He should have been there with her, but she had asked him not to go. He wasn’t sure why he listened to her. What kind of man did that make him?

He opened the drawer and removed the false bottom. As he picked up the letter, a single tear fell off his cheek and splashed on the bottom of the page. He wiped his face with his other hand then placed the sheet of paper back in its envelope and tied it up with the rest of the letters. Once the bundle was hidden again, he closed and locked the drawer. He slipped the key into his pocket.

He stood and put on his coat and hat. Perhaps a walk would clear his head.

Outside, a fresh layer of snow lay on the ground. The midday sun reflected off it, and Anthony’s eyes struggled to adjust to the glare after the dimness of the cabin. The air was fresh and clean but cold and it burned whenever he took a breath. She probably hadn’t taken a breath like that since their last winter in Paris. She went home that spring. He hadn’t seen her since.

He found the opening in the trees where the trail began and followed it into the forest, keeping an eye above him. A gentle breeze blew through the branches shaking snow down on him like sifted powdered sugar, but every so often a chunk of ice would come down with it. He tried to concentrate on his surroundings and trace the path through the woods. He knew it would be easy for him to become distracted and take a few wrong steps and then he would be lost. He cleared his mind and picked his steps carefully. There was only an inch and a half of snow and the footing was slick but not too dangerous. The closest he came to slipping was when a snowshoe hare had hopped across the trail and startled him.

Time and distance melted away, just one foot in front of the other with no conception of where he was or how long it had taken for him to get there. Eventually he came upon the road. He followed it for about a mile and it led him into a small town. It was a village, really. Just a few houses and a general store which doubled as the post office and town hall and everything else the small town needed. Anthony stepped inside the store.

“Hey, Tony,” a woman with graying hair said from behind the cash register. “You’ve got a couple letters.” She handed him two envelopes.

“Thanks, Greta,” Anthony said.

The letter on top was from his sister. He tore it open and smiled.

“Something good?” Greta asked.

“Yeah,” Anthony said. “My little sister just had her baby.”

“A boy or a girl?”

“A girl. They named her Anna.”

“Tell them I said congratulations.”

“I’ll do that,” Anthony said.

He looked at the second letter and any trace of a smile left his face. He recognized the postmark from Phnom Penh. But the handwriting of his address wasn’t hers.

*

Anna pulled Chris closer and rested her head on his chest. They were lying and sweating on the cabin’s bed covered only by a sheet. Snow could be seen falling outside the window.

“Do you remember our first night here?” Anna asked. “I can’t believe it was almost fifteen years ago.”

“How can I forget?” Chris said. “You twisted your ankle and you made me sleep on that couch from hell.”

“What did you expect? You knew I was having relationship problems and with my uncle’s death. And you were my best friend. You couldn’t expect me to just hop into bed with you.”

“Well, I might not have expected it, but I’m a guy. We always hope for it.”

Anna softly hammered Chris’s chest with her fist.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“For being a man. And here I was, thinking you were one of the nice ones.”

“I am. A nice guy and an asshole want exactly the same thing, the only difference is how they go about getting it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. And since I’ve just gotten what I wanted, I think I’m going to go to sleep.”

Anna smiled. “Asshole.”

Chris chuckled, but he didn’t say anything else and soon his breathing became regular and deep. For a while Anna just looked at his sleeping face, but eventually her smile faded. She pulled away from him slowly, and once she was sure he was still asleep, she climbed out of bed and put on a nightgown. She eased open the desk drawer and popped out the false bottom. Her hand trembled as it reached for the letters. The night after she had first read them, she had been unable to sleep. The next night had been her first with Chris. And now it was time for another first. She would tell him in the morning that after years of trying, they would finally have their first child. 

Anna took her uncle’s letters and sat down with them on the rug in front of the fireplace. She read each of the letters one last time, and when she was done threw it into the fire. After the last letter began to burn, she balled up the red string that had tied them all together and tossed it into the flames.

*

The cellulose of the string combined with oxygen in the air then broke down into carbon dioxide and steam and rose up the chimney. The smoke was carried by the wind as it left the cabin, still rising and dispersing into the atmosphere. It mixed with the air and was absorbed into the clouds.

The clouds floated across the night sky, and as the world turned and night gave way to day, the sun began to shine on them, warming them and giving them energy. And then, as the sun set again, the clouds cooled, radiating away their heat one photon at a time. These photons spread in all directions, traveling at the speed of light, some shooting back past the sun on their way out of the solar system, their paths bent slightly due to the star’s mass.

Past the planets and dwarf planets and comets, years would pass on earth before the bits of light would come across even the nearest stars. And in that time babies would be born, men and women would die, and those still living would remember.