Tree Singer

time for thanks-giving.” Da held her littlest brother up for her to take.
Mayten grabbed the chubby little boy who was heavy with sleep and definitely needed changing. She carried him down the hall to the room they used as a nursery.
After the fever winter, the clan leaders had made a new ruling, something that rarely happened. They dictated that families should not name their babies until they were two years old. As a result, Mayten had two unnamed siblings. Privately, she thought of the boy in her arms as Aster and the youngest baby girl as Maple, two of her favorite trees.
She kissed the top of the babe’s head and quickly changed his soaked diaper. When little Aster was clean and dry, she dressed him in a tiny tunic and trousers and set off in search of her mother.
Her frustration grew the longer she searched. No sign of Mother in the living area or her parents’ bedroom or any of the other rooms that branched off the long hall.
Finally, Mayten went into the room she shared with her sister. Taiwania was sitting on her bed, studying a parchment.
“I’m in here,” Taiwania groaned, her eyes rolling with disgust. The scent of lavender oil stung Mayten’s eyes. Had Taiwania bathed in the stuff?
She studied her sister’s waist-length hair. Taiwania’s hair flowed in waves while Mayten’s hair kinked and curled in uncontrollable brown spirals. Where Mayten’s body was sharp and angular, Taiwania had a soft, curvy body and large green eyes fringed with black lashes. Her skin was a beautiful red brown that reminded Mayten of cherry wood.
Mayten had once overheard a neighbor say to her mother, “Mayten is beautiful but doesn’t know it. Taiwania is beautiful and she’ll tell you about it!”
Mayten knew she wasn’t beautiful, the neighbor had just said that to be kind, but Taiwania was beautiful and wouldn’t hesitate to tell you about it.
And she’d become even harder to live with since her Leveling Ceremony last spring.
Usually Leveling Ceremonies proceeded in the same manner each year. The clan elders sequestered themselves for a few days to determine the calling of each apprentice. The callings were in line with the callings of the parents.
But once in a great while, the calling came as a surprise . . .
As had happened with Taiwania. Her sister had been called, not to sing to living things, but to sing the stories of the clan, an essential role in the life of the community.
That day the entire clan had cheered. That day Mayten had seen the pride in her parents’ shining eyes, had herself felt a mixture of pride and envy at the way people looked at her sister, especially the boys.
Overnight, Taiwania had become something other than the bossy older sister that Mayten knew, someone treated with honor by the entire clan.
The attention had made Taiwania even bossier and more impossible than she’d been before.
“I need to practice for the ceremony tomorrow, so please leave.” Taiwania flicked her hand as if shooing a mosquito away.
“It’s my room, too.” Mayten flopped on top of her bed’s feathered comforter and tickled Aster’s cheek, trying to get him to smile. She was frustrated at not finding her mother and the butterflies in her stomach made her feel sick. “Since you’ll be singing to the clan tomorrow, you may as well get used to singing in front of people.”
She was not afraid to receive her calling, but she hated being the focus of attention and having to stand before the whole clan. Taiwania, however, loved being the center of attention—
“Mother!” Taiwania bellowed, her face darkened with rage. “Will you make Mayten leave the room so I can practice?”
Moments later, their mother stepped into the room, their baby sister strapped to her chest with an intricately tied piece of cloth. “What’s the problem here?”
Her mother looked tired. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t avoiding Mayten. Maybe she was sick and trying to hide it.
Taiwania crossed her arms, her mouth puckered like she’d been sucking on an unripe persimmon. “I need to practice my song for tomorrow, and Mayten won’t leave.”
“But she’ll be singing in front of people tomorrow,” Mayten protested. “Why not practice in front of someone tonight?”
Her mother blew brown corkscrews of hair off her forehead. “Mayten, give your sister some time to practice tonight. Just until bells. Now come. It’s time for thanks-giving.”
Mayten balanced Aster on her hip as they followed their mother out the door. “Mother, I need to talk to you—”
Her mother put a hand on the small of Mayten’s back, pushing her gently up the hallway.
“Not now,” she said, her voice sharp.
Mother never spoke sharply. Not to Mayten. Her throat tightened.
Taiwania put her nose in the air as she pranced by, pushing through the front door first.
Mayten stopped on the threshold, swallowing a desire to slap the smug look off Taiwania’s face. She shifted her attention to their mother instead, watching as her mother slipped off her sandals before following Taiwania outside.
Mayten took after her mother, tall and stick thin, with a plain face and skin the washed-out color of walnuts. She’d often wished she had her mother’s confidence as well. Instead, she had her da’s shy nature and enjoyed being by herself among the trees.
“Mayten,” her mother called. “Stop daydreaming and get out here.”
Mayten quickly slid off her sandals and hurried out onto the porch, down the wooden steps, and into the front yard where she took her place in the family circle. The cool earth beneath her toes sent a shiver up her spine. She inhaled deeply, tasting eucalyptus spice on her tongue.
Da took little Aster from her arms, settling their youngest brother on his shoulders, then taking Mayten’s right hand. She reached out, taking her little brother Wollemi’s hand in her left hand. Wollemi grinned up at her, poking his tongue through the empty space between his teeth. Mother stood next to him gently swaying from side to side, calming the babe strapped to her front. Then came Taiwania with Oleaster