Her Beautiful Mind Page 29

  “Siler. What are you thinking about?”

  “Rings, circles,” he answers. “May I show you?”

  Rising, I walk to my desk and return with a pad of paper and some colored pencils. When I sit down beside him, he crawls back into my lap. I wrap my arms around his small body and he leans against me, sighing in contentment. I know this is one of his “safe” places.

  Picking up the green pencil, he draws a circle in the center of the page. “This is me,” he explains. Then he makes another circle in red that overlaps the green one, and a blue circle that touches both.

  “This is you and Father. The red one is Cori.” He continues to draw. “Here is Uncle Markham, Aunt Rosemary, and Henry. Then Uncle Travis, Aunt Allison, and their daughters.” The circles overlap as he draws and lists the people. “Uncle Liam and his family, Dreamer and Allday, Grandmother Patricia and Grandfather Richard.” Soon the whole page is covered in interlocking circles.

  “Do you know what you’ve drawn?” I ask.

  “No. Does it have a name?”

  “Yes. It’s called the Flower of Life, and some people believe it symbolizes the creation of all things.” Picking up one of the pencils, I draw lines connecting points where the circles overlap. “You can find all five of the Platonic solids within the circles. Cubes, and tetrahedrons, and octahedrons.” I name them as they take form within the circles he’s drawn. “Dodecahedrons and icosahedrons.”

  I can hear him whispering the names to himself, liking the way the letters and sounds roll around in his head and on his tongue. I find myself doing the same thing.

  “I’d like to know what it represents to you, Siler.”

  I wait patiently while he stares at the paper. He’s always needed time to think before he answers a question. We’ve learned to give him all the time he needs. My long braid is draped over my shoulder, and he wraps one hand around it, rubbing its silky softness between his fingers. It’s a self-soothing habit he’s had since infancy.

  “I think it shows how I am a part of everything and everyone,” he finally tells me. “And I think it is pretty, too,” he adds, glancing up at me with a grin.

  “I do, too.” Leaning over, I plant a kiss on his head before lifting him to his feet. “How do you feel about tomorrow?”

  “Good. I am not worried anymore, and Father says I look very handsome in my suit and tie.”

  I laugh, and he smiles at me.

  “Come on,” I tell him, rising and taking his hand. “We have guests to greet and a party to prepare for. You should share your circles with Uncle Travis when he gets here. I bet he can show you how to color them and make them even prettier.”

  Hand in hand we leave the room, ready to welcome our friends and a future abundant with wonderful possibilities.

  Chapter 37

  His Beautiful Mind

  Siler

  Date: Sunday, March 11, 2035

  Starting Location: Springer Mountain, Georgia

  Destination: Unknown

  Total Trip Miles: 0

  The rocky lookout point at the edge of the mountain is still there. I stare out at the misty blue hills in the distance and the green valleys below, Mother and Father beside me. His arm wraps around her shoulders as he hugs her close to him, reminding her of the time he stood here all alone and wished he could turn back time.

  “If you could really time travel, would you go back and change anything?” he asks her.

  She shakes her head, smiling at his teasing face. “No. It’s been an amazing life. I have an amazing husband, two amazing kids, and an amazing grandchild on the way. I’m very happy with the way things turned out.”

  “You’re amazing.” I hear him whisper before he presses his lips to her forehead.

  I look away, giving them a bit of privacy. My parents have always been affectionate, their deep love and appreciation for each other apparent to everyone. Although Mother just turned fifty-six and Father is now sixty, they’re still healthy and active. The lines on their faces are evidence of a happy life—well lived and well loved. Even though Father sports a few gray hairs at his temples, they only make him look more distinguished. The long braid I loved so much as a child was cut long ago, but Mother’s hair is still as dark and thick as it was when she was younger.

  This isn’t the first time I’ve stood in this spot. Four years ago, when my sister, Cori, and her new husband, Henry, started their honeymoon hike, all my extended family gathered to see them off. Their first child, my nephew, will be born two months from now.

  My cousins, Brandon and Bryan Crow, made the hike with them. Their humorous, often awkward account of accompanying an amorous, newlywed couple on the trail turned into a best-selling novel. They’re currently hiking the Pacific Crest Trail and busy taking notes for their next book.

  I’m brought back to the present when Mother reminds me to sign the register. When I reach the rock that houses it, a young woman is sitting there writing. She glances up at me, and I feel an instant shock of recognition even though I know I’ve never seen her before. Perhaps it’s because she has the same dark hair and skin tone as my mother.

  “Osiyo Uwoduhi,” I whisper to myself because she is very beautiful.

  A startled look passes across her face, and her eyes widen in surprise. “Wado,” she replies. Now I’m the one staring in surprise when she thanks me in Cherokee.

  Collecting myself after several awkward moments, I hold out my hand. “Siler Calder.”

  “Rachel Green,” she replies, standing to take my hand in hers. She doesn’t shake it, just holds it while we stare at each other.

  “Do you, uh … Do you have a trail name yet?” I finally manage to stutter.

  “My father, Randall, calls me his little flower, so I thought I would use his nickname, Atsilvsgi.”

  “Uwoduhi Atsilvsgi,” I slowly pronounce it, changing it to “beautiful flower.” Rachel flashes me a smile, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks, before asking if I have a trail name.

  “No, I thought I’d let the trail give me one.”

  She nods. “So, you’re hiking north?”

  “All the way to Katahdin.”

  “Me, too,” she whispers before handing me the register. “I’m finished. You should sign it so we can get started.”

  I scrawl my name under hers, then hug my parents one last time. Mother has tears in her eyes when she tells me to be careful but have fun. When I reach out to shake Father’s hand, he pulls me into a crushing hug. With a glance toward Rachel and a knowing wink, he lets me go but not before reminding me to remember everything I’ve been taught about the woods.

  Hefting my backpack, I take my first steps on the Appalachian Trail. Just before it makes a sharp turn, I look back at my parents one last time. They’re still standing at the edge of the lookout point. Behind them, the ancient hills, ridges, and forests of the Appalachian Mountains stretch out until they disappear into the distant horizon. They were formed long before I was born and will exist long after I am gone. I see the past, the present, and the future just waiting to be explored and experienced.

  With one last wave to the man and woman who gave me life, I turn and walk north, following spring on the Appalachian Trail.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First, thank you. Thank you for choosing this book and taking a chance on a new author. The idea for this story formed over twenty years ago. It went through many different versions before settling into this final form. I’m very happy to share it with you.

  Thanks to my pre-readers, Ipsita, Lynda, Donna, Denise, Judy, MJ, and all the other members of the fandom, whose love for this story encouraged me along the way. Thanks to Lisa Hollett for her suggestions. A very special thank you to Sally Hopkinson who edited and proofread through every version. I admire your patience and expertise.

  Thank you to my husband and hiking partner fo
r making this journey with me.

  And finally, a special thanks to Bellebiter. You told me I could do this. I’m glad I listened.

  Hike On!

  Janet