Confessions of the Wind

Based on an unfortunate news story I found when googling my name. Trigger Warning: Infanticide

Wind didn’t remember when it was born. It just was, like the sun or the forest. It learned to mind its own business, to simply watch. It blew a little harder when it had a temper and sighed when it watched others grow old. Wind had no face and could only be found when moving branches or blowing leaves.

Though none of the forest could talk, the beings could communicate with each other within it. However, Wind was still lonely. It knew it would never die. It didn’t age, it didn’t have a body. It didn’t have children. Wind existence vibrated through the forest. It was forever.

One day Wind found a couple lying beneath one of the trees within the forest. Wind did not understand the look on their faces. It had seen humans before. Their faces never made an impression on Wind, because they all disappeared so fast. They both had dark eyes and hair. But they held each other’s hands like roots held the ground. The boy smiled at the girl and handed her a ring. Wind remembered them.

Eva met him along the river. There was nothing special about him, except he had a nice horse. Chestnut, with a clean mane. She didn’t feel bad about taking it, since she doubted it was his. He wore clothes too big for his frame, frayed at the hem. He had dirty hands, the water incapable of washing the thick layers of grime away.

His hair was the color of mudwater. He washed gold rings along the river. She vaguely remembered the thefts on the bridge. Her mother had warned her against crossing there, though she had nothing worth stealing. She tried to saddle the horse before he noticed.

“That’s not how it goes,” he said. The boy with the mudwater hair placed her hand in its proper spot. His palms were callused.

She blushed.

He smirked.

“Did you steal it?” she asked.

“Did you steal that dress?”

Eva looked down at the green frock. She had found it that morning on someone’s porch, drying from the night before. He touched the sleeve, noting the softness. “It looks nice,” he said.

“So, can I have the horse?”

“Only if I can see you again.”

Wind watched the boy become the man and the girl become the woman. Then, it watched them become husband and wife. They settled in an abandoned cottage in the middle of the forest. On the outside was an ice house. Wind thought of the white oak tree that had been chopped down to make it. Oak would have liked it.

Wind had watched plenty of lovers meet in the secret of the night. It had watched babies born and made. It had watched people marry and have affairs. There was nothing special about the couple, but Wind continued to watch them.

The husband bashed a deer over the head. The venison would feed his wife for the winter, especially now that her cravings had come. Her monthly cycles had stopped. He promised her meat to celebrate.

Grunting, he brought down the rock again, even when the deer stopped squirming. He bludgeoned it until blood poured across the forest floor.

Eva gutted the deer on their kitchen table. He watched the methodical way she sawed into the bone. Beautiful. He needed to find better tools. Maybe he could take her with him. Except he couldn’t, because of the baby.

Right. The baby.

Wind does not see the child born, but it hears him.

It hears the child scream so hard, the forest trembles. They name him Devon. Wind does not know the significance. Is it his father’s name? His grandfather’s? Why is that name special? Wind can hardly ask. It can only communicate with the forest. Humans do not care to hear Wind.

It doesn’t see the couple for weeks. The husband starts staying out late, the wife left behind to look after the crying child.

Wind hears her weep.

Eva loved her son. At first. Then her husband stopped coming home.

Devon was prettier than his parents. His hair was the color of sunshine, his eyes the color of the earth. His mother brought him out while she cleaned rabbits on the front porch. He cried for an hour, before Wind realized Eva was not going to stop him.

Wind sighed, accidentally rocking the baby’s bassinet. Devon stopped his sobbing. He giggled. Wind continued to blow a light breeze, sending leaves to tickle Devon’s nose. He continued laughing. Wind had never heard him make that noise before.

Devon cried throughout the night. Eva shook her child, screaming for him to quiet down. She wept, her body crumbling. Her husband hadn’t been back in three days. Devon wouldn’t leave her alone.

Eva marched towards the ice house.

Wind listened to the mother scream at the child. He watched her shake him and he wished he had hands to stop her. Wind did not realize what she was doing, until she came back from the ice house without the child.

She fell into a deep sleep that night, curled up next to her husband. He rubbed her head, relieved the infernal sobbing had finally stopped. The next morning, Eva went to store their food in the ice house. She hesitated then pushed her child aside to make room.

They were beneath Willow. Wind spoke for the first time in his life.

Confess or your crops will die.

The couple ignored his warning, continuing to clutch each other. Wind convinced the rain to stop and the sun to shine even at night. Soon, a drought took over the forest.

Wind spoke again.

Confess or fire will burn.

They continued to steal. Their child remained in the ice house. Furious, Wind engulfed the forest in flames. The animals evacuated. The forest did not argue with him. They were afraid of what more damage he could do if they pushed him. That night, the couple shivered as the fire burned outside. They awoke when Wind howled.

Confess or water will come.

They did not confess then either. Wind spoke to the rain again and it poured for days, flooding the town, overflowing the rivers, and submerging the cottage. Wind knocked the door down with the force of the waters and his breath. Devon appeared in the village. The villagers were silent.

When the clouds dispersed, the townspeople buried the child in a pasture, where the sun could warm him. Where Devon’s body lay, a patch of flowers grew. Wind made sure there was always a light breeze guarding him.