skin rough and scratchy like mine. I guess I never realized how close Willow was to Juniper as well. I knew they conversed and that Willow was expected to take over, but I guess I never really thought their relationship went beyond that. Maybe Willow saw Juniper as a motherly presence too.
We huddle together until the tears run dry and our bodies calm.
Finally Willow rises. It kills her to say what we both know must be done. “Help me move her to the edge?”
I nod and slowly rise to my feet. I feel utterly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but I find the strength to lift Juniper and carry her to the edge of the pit. To the spot I’ve slept in every night but this one. To the spot where I watched in horror as a pixie took her own life. Now to be the spot where I say goodbye to a pixie that I barely knew but loved with all my heart nonetheless.
We lay her gently before the edge and kneel down to say our private goodbyes. Somehow my body produces more tears and they begin pouring again. I wipe my nose and sweep the tears off my cheeks and eyes so I can see Juniper clearly. I ask Willow to lift her shoulders off the ground and she does so without contesting or questioning. I unwrap her bun and let her long brown hair with silvery streaks flow free over her shoulders. Free like Juniper’s soul now. Free to fly. Free to be. Free to play with Mimosa again. For the first time ever her stress lines have softened, her skin no longer taut with frustration and worry. I’m finally beginning to believe this was the face of a pixie in her thirties, and not the decrepit, malnourished version I saw wasting away these past many weeks.
“Normally we would take the clothing off the pixie at this point. Add it to the scrap pile.” Willow looks to her mangled two-piece, then to Juniper’s one-piece made of multiple scraps of decent material. We still have some scraps that can be used for whoever needs them. I just used some during the night to cool Juniper’s skin with. Lot of good that did. And most of these pixies are so out of it they wouldn’t realize they were indecent at all if we didn’t keep an eye on their clothing for them. I can tell Willow’s having a hard time debating what to do about Juniper’s scraps.
“I know we need the material and I know Juniper would want us to do what’s best for those still alive, but I’d rather walk naked than strip her of what dignity she has left,” she says.
I look to my own two-piece. Upon seeing the so-called clothing around my fellow prisoners, I’d been very careful not to snag the material wrapped around me. But try as I have, the material is still thinning. Soon I’ll need to dip into the scraps myself, so I understand the urge she feels to collect Juniper’s clothing. It’s no longer of use to her and makes a world of difference to us. But still, she was our mother and I feel it disrespectful as well.
“Why don’t we just take from the middle then? Turn her one-piece into a two-piece. We’ll get a few pieces and keep her clothed at the same time.”
Willow’s eyes light up and for the first time ever, looks to me with a smile on her face. You know, she’s actually very pretty when she smiles. “I like that idea. She was right to choose you as a leader.”
I return the smile and try not to cry over her kind words. It’s something Juniper would have said to me. And it makes me realize for the first time that Willow was fit to be both controlling and caring.
We quickly untie the knots around Juniper’s midsection. Luckily the one piece is skin-tight so its integrity doesn’t weaken when we remove the middle section. When we’re done we have enough material to settle our nerves.
“Are you ready?” she asks wearily, unable to stop looking at the frail body before us. “We should do it before anyone else sees. They’ll realize she’s gone, but something about seeing the body being dropped off the cliff makes their condition worse. Traumatizes them even more.”
I nod in agreement. Watching that pixie commit suicide certainly damaged me a little. That vision still haunts me when I close my eyes.
We stand and