She was right, we did need energy. We needed more than we could have imagined.
I brought a pen and paper with me to the barn that day, but she spoke so fast, I could barely keep up. She moved quickly and efficiently from the tractor to the plane, picking up pieces, setting them in place, leaning this way and that, always moving, never still.
And through all of that, I was supposed to listen, was supposed to understand her words, though she used words I had never really heard before; words like parameter, altitude, velocity.
Sometimes I had to ask her to slow down or repeat herself, so that I could write it down. But even then, my handwriting was chaotic and messy, just like my mind.
Often, my thoughts would drift to the house, to the basement, to the man who was there. I thought about his bloody lip — about Laurent's bloody lip, too. I thought about his look of disgust and the way he said the word, Dandelion.
How did he know? I wondered again. How could he?
But as I searched back through my memory, grasping desperately for a instance when I might have said the word, I could find none.
"That's it!" Cosima shouted.
I snapped out of my fog.
"What's it?"
"The plane!" she said, climbing up into the cockpit. "It's ready!"
"Are you sure?"
"Let's see," she said, waving me away. "Step back!"
I did as she said, calling Aishe to my side. We stood by the barn doors, hand and hand, as Cosima called out.
"All clear!"
A moment later, the engine popped and chugged once or twice. The propellor lurched into motion, slowly at first, then picking up speed, until finally, it kicked up a cloud of dust from the barn floor.
Cosima waved her hand in the air and called out a happy Whoooopee!
I could not help but laugh and cheer, jumping up and down, clapping my hands together. Aishe looked up at me, her face blank, as if she couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. Then Cosima cut the engine, climbed down from the plane, and crossed the barn toward me.
She grabbed me up into a big hug, and if she could have, I think she would have spun me around. But instead, she kissed me on the mouth, her lips thin because her smile was so big. I laughed and held her face.
"You did it!" I said.
"Yes, we did it!"
"It's really happening!"
"Yes, but now it's time for the test flight."
"Test flight?"
"Yes, of course."
"But, so soon?"
"Yes, it will be fine, I promise. Like riding a bike."
She had already moved away, already climbed back up onto the wing. She leaned into the cockpit and rummaged around for something.
"Riding a bike, right," I said. I tried to sound brave. But I didn't feel brave. "But, no one can ride a bike the first time. Everyone crashes and scrapes their knees. I think crashing a plane would be much worse than crashing a bike."
"Don't worry. If anything goes wrong, I'll be with you."
"Right."
She returned with the leather helmet, the one that had been stored under the seat all those years. She handed it to me and I put it on. She buckled it beneath my chin.
"You're going to love flying!" she said, a sparkle in her eye. "There's nothing like it."
The ray of light that crossed her brow was so soft and so optimistic that I believed her.
We moved the plane out of the barn and onto the dirt lane that led toward the house.
"Let's leave it here for now," she said. "Less conspicuous this way. We can move it to the runway when we are ready to fly."
"Of course."
But before we were ready to fly, we sat at the kitchen table eating what was left of the chicken soup and bread. She gave the run down one last time, making me repeat everything back to her.
"Don't worry," she said. "It's just a practice run."
"Right, right," I said.
After we had finished, I walked to the basement door and placed my ear up against it. I heard nothing. I opened the door and called down.
"Laurent?"
He appeared at the foot of the steep stairs, squinting as he looked up at me.
"Yes?" he said.
"Can you come up here for a moment?"
He turned away then, presumably to glare at his prisoner.
"Don't try anything stupid," he said.
Then he came upstairs, and when the door was shut behind him, I whispered my request.
"I need you to look after Aishe," I said.
"Look after Aishe? Why? Where are you going to be?"
"I have to fly the plane."
"Already?"
"It's just a test flight."
"I don't know, Delphine," he said. "I don't think I should leave him alone."
"His hands are tied. What can he do?"
Laurent bit his lip.
"Fine," he relented. "But how long do you think it will take?"
"How can I know? A few minutes? An hour?"
"Alright, but I'd prefer if it was less than an hour."
"Me, too."
"Just give me a minute, and I'll be right up, okay?"
"Sure."
But it wasn't a minute. No, it was several minutes, nearly half an hour or more, I can't be sure. I sat at the table and waited, but he didn't come up. I stepped to the front door and looked out.
Cosima stood in the cockpit of the plane, waving me forward. Aishe played just outside the front door. She kneeled forward, packing tiny snowballs in her hands and stacking them neatly against the wall.
"Delphine!" Cosima called. "Let's go!"
I glanced once more into the quiet house, and hearing nothing, I closed the front door. I stepped to Aishe and touched her head.
"Hello," I said.
"Hello."
"Stay here by the house, okay?"
"Okay."
She carried on with her play, not even looking up once. She stacked another snowball on the pile, and physics brought the whole thing tumbling down. Unconcerned, she set about gathering the snowballs up in her small arms.
I smiled and stepped away.
But then my steps became skips and hops. Then I was running toward Cosima, laughing as I went, because she stood in the cockpit waving the leather helmet in the air and shouting.
"Let's go, Scaredy Cat! We haven't got all day!"
"I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm here!"
I climbed up into the cockpit. I set myself down. Cosima leaned over the back of my seat, touching the lever between my legs, tapping the dials on the dash, stroking my cheek with her finger as she ran down her pre-flight checklist. I laughed.
"Cosima, I'm trying to be serious," I said.
"Me, too."
Then she kissed my ear and disappeared behind me. I squirmed in my seat.
"Alright!" she shouted. "Turn on the ignition!"
The propellor sputtered to life.
"Check!" I shouted, raising my thumb in the air.
"Let's get this bird over to the runway!" she shouted.
"Check!"
I gave the engine a little gas, and slowly, we crept forward.
"Slow and steady!" she shouted.
I raised my thumb in the air.
I was excited. The whole thing was exciting, of course! How could it not be?! My heart beat so fast, I thought it would burst right from my chest! But I wasn't scared. I knew Cosima was right behind me. I knew that if anything went wrong, well…
Nothing is going to go wrong, I told myself. Nothing is going to go wrong. Cosima is here and nothing is going to go wrong.
But then something did go wrong. Not with the plane. No, the plane was fine. In fact, we hadn't even arrived at the road, hadn't even attempted to take-off.
No, we had only crossed half the distance between the barn and the house, when the front door swung wildly open, and Ethan shot out into the daylight with incredible speed, crossing right in front of the propellor of the plane — so close that I thought for a moment that he'd get caught right up and shredded. I closed my eyes and braced for the impact.
But he did not get caught. Instead, he crossed over the path and scurried into the rows of grapevines, his hands still tied in front of him. And on the other side of the lane, Laurent followed behind, shouting and waving the pistol in the air.
Behind me, I heard Cosima shouting, but all of my attention was stuck on Ethan's back as he ran further and further into the vineyards. He stopped suddenly. Something had caught his eye. He changed directions, ducking back, crossing over the dried up gray vines, running toward the edge of the vineyards closest to the main road.
"Stop the plane!" Cosima shouted behind me. "Delphine, stop!"
I still hadn't quite registered her words, not until I heard the CRACK! SWISH! CRACK! of shredding vines against the propellor. I had veered right into them.
I slammed on the brakes. The plane slammed to a halt, and Cosima lurched forward over my shoulder, smacking her head hard on the side ledge of the cockpit wall before whiplashing back into her own seat.
She cried out. The propellor died down. I leapt from the plane, landing clumsily on my knees. Cosima jumped down after me, pressing her hand to her face. She grimaced, but I had no time to check on her. I ran to the tail of the plane and looked out and the vineyards.
Ethan had found the axe, the one that had been left out in the snow. He wielded it before himself, facing off with Laurent, who stood with his hands up and circled carefully around. Ethan lurched forward, screaming and swinging wildly. Laurent jumped back, circled around some more, then both and I saw what he was after at the same time. Laurent lunged for the shovel, which stood handle-up in the ground. In one swift, powerful motion, Laurent grabbed the thing from the ground and swung at Ethan.
They went on like that for several seconds, screaming and swinging like mad men, until finally Laurent, having the longer weapon, knocked the axe from Ethan's hands. Then he swung the shovel, catching Ethan right across the cheek in a sickening blow.
I screamed. Ethan screamed. Laurent and Cosima screamed, too.
And somewhere in the distance there was another scream, another blow, another disaster.
The ground rumbled with the weight of it.
I looked to the house. A great pillar of smoke rose up from the side and for a moment I thought there was a fire. But as I ran toward the house, I realized this was not a pillar of smoke, but a pillar of debris, rising up from the place where the old stone had finally crumbled. I paused at the sight of it, at the size of gaping hole in the wall. It led right into my parent's bedroom.
Cosima ran up behind me.
"Where's Aishe?" she said.
I looked at her, turning my head slowly. Her face was covered in blood. The blood oozed from a gash that cut right across her brow. She dug in her pocket and pulled out a red handkerchief.
"Aishe?" I said. "Aishe!"
She was no where. But I heard her little cough.
I ran to the pile of fallen stones. I saw her hand poking out from beneath the pile.
"Aishe!" I cried out, pulling at the stones. "Aishe!"
Cosima worked next to me, and within seconds we had cleared most of the stones away. Within seconds we had unearthed nearly all of Aishe's tiny frame, save for her right arm, which was pinned beneath an enormous stone.
I grabbed and pulled and heaved at the stone, until my back gave out in a flash of excruciating pain.
But the stone did not move.
Aishe coughed and watched me, her eyes as wide as a stunned rabbit's.
I tried again at the stone, but the pain shot up my spine, and down through my arms, and the stone would not move.
I cried out.
Cosima pulled me away.
"Delphine!" she said. "Wait!"
"Where's Laurent?!" I shouted.
But he was still far off, still at the edge of the vineyards, straddling Ethan with his hands around Ethan's neck, shouting things that were incomprehensible.
I called his name — once, twice, a hundred times — but he did not look up.
Nor did he let up on the violence he inflicted on Ethan's face.
I was horrified on all fronts.
Cosima ran toward them. She lifted the axe and tossed it away. Then she lifted the shovel and held it in front of herself.
"Laurent! That's enough!" she shouted.
He didn't let up.
She lifted her boot, shoving him hard against the shoulder, knocking him off balance. He rolled from Ethan. He rolled and jumped to his feet, fists raised.
"What?! Are you going to fight me?!" Cosima shouted with the shovel raised like a spear.
Ethan barely moved, save to roll onto his side and curl up into a ball, his body heaving in gulps and cries.
Laurent shook his head like a lion shake's its main. Then he saw me, saw the wall, saw the tiny hand that I held in mine.
He ran toward us.
And whether it was with his natural strength or the strength of his fury, I'll never know, but he managed to move that stone. He grunted and clenched, and I thought he might destroy his back as I had done, but then the thing moved, lifting just enough to be rolled away.
There was a moment, a quiet moment, when we all paused, when all of us, including Aishe, herself, looked down at the arm with hope.
But the arm was broken, not just once, but perhaps twice or more, and it lay on the ground, a zigzig of flesh, when it should have been straight. Her little fingers had already started to turn blue.
When Aishe saw it, when she saw her own arm, her stunned silence gave way to unconsolable and fearful sobs.
Laurent scooped her up into his arms, pressed her face against his chest, and carried her away into the house.
Cosima helped Ethan up and led him back to the house.
Only I was left alone, kneeling in the pile of stones, because it hurt too much to stand.
it hurt too much to stand. It hurt too much to cry. It hurt too much to breathe.
I will never escape this house, I thought. This house will bury me, and all of us.