The Snapping Willow

Bad things happen when her dreams aren’t caught. Though most would assume it’s just nightmares.

She looked into her child’s room seeing the bed, and how well tiny hands had taken to making it. Tanah has become quite fastidious, and it was easy to see herself, or her own mother in her.

It was only just morning, and little Tanah was outside playing after breakfast, Charnetta was inspecting the room on account of a sound she’d heard in the night.

Tanah was a heavier sleeper than her mother, and she managed to hear nothing from just above her head.

Seven rods of Willow warped round, wrapped and strung like a net. That was what bound, tightly held back, dreadful visitors from the crown of her daughter’s thoughts.

It would’ve been nothing to restring, to rebind cleanly in the evening, to retie strings and feathers or it’s beads.

But the dreamcatcher was cracked, the willow at the foundation of the piece had snapped. Whatever dust there could be from the visitor remained unseen.

But as sure as fear in her skin, Charnetta would do away with it before nightfall. She had to.

Luckily they had willow growing nearby, she wasn’t about to bother a shaman or spiritualist over this. It wasn’t trivial, but they could deal with it.

So Charnetta went to work, fetching her deepest pot from her highest shelf. She would need to start a fire, and set the pit. Little Tanah for her part was running around the back of the cottage, while she took her attention elsewhere.

Charnetta took the long march toward the willow, she set herself here in the cottage in part because of that somber old willow tree. She knew she’d need it for things like this, and it would be nothing to harvest from.

She would need some tea as well, but that could be taken in the moment afterwards.

“Mama, where are you going?”, Tanah hollers over curiously. 

 “Just to the willow, darling. Just a branch,” she thought out loud, realizing that this was a teaching opportunity, asked, "do you want to help me?"

“Alright.” and so she followed.

It was simple enough, even with an energetic five year old, to strip a branch off the old Willow. They walked to the pit, Tanah was sent to collect wood for the fire, while Charnetta fetched the tin of tea, newsprint, and on a lark some wild flowers from the week before.

"What're we doing next?" Tanah asked, her mama wasn’t always so weird after all. "Well, first we have to treat it," Charnetta explained, as she started the fire, newspaper wasn't the best starter but it was closer to a natural burn than could be achieved with oil.

"Treat it? What can branches eat?"

"Nothing, but they can drink." she felt clever, "We're giving it tea.”

“why?”

“Well, we should at least be nice to it before we twist it up.”

“Oh. Do we get tea too?”

“Soon, could you find your old dream catcher for me?”

“Alright.” She said bounding off, Tanah was always happier when set to a task. Even to spite monotony, she was quite amiable when asked to unwrap the old dream catcher, it was best that they kept at least some of the string. 

String could carry a memory, and that would at least help the willow along it’s new path.

What was good was that it kept Tanah away from the pot, and without worry. It was rather common for her to worry after all, and Charnetta preferred not to be a reason for it.

Especially when that was her job.

The branches were at least less musky smelling by the end of the hour, they went inside for lunch before going back out to remove the Willow and start the wreath bend of it. She folded them in a towel, and since Tanah was still interested, they each made two from the collected branches. Along with some of the wildflowers of course.

They were then set to dry, on the clothesline pole in a way just silly enough to be remembered.

Hopefully, having extra would ease her mind. There were many frightful things that imposed themselves on the dreams of the living, and she couldn’t sleep well with such things above her daughter’s head.

The day went on as usual, the care and feeding of a child wasn’t all that complicated even with the strange interlude that took up the first half of her day.

It was soon bedtime, and Charnetta could rest easy knowing that the new dream catcher was at least in one piece. She’d planned to do some sewing or reading by candlelight, but she was more drained than expected after setting Tanah to bed.

Who did it bother though? An early night never hurt anyone.

Snap, she heard in the night. She woke worried thinking that the willow snapped again.

She looked around, moving from her bed and slowly leaving her room. Careful of the floorboards and how they’d creak, she looked over into her daughter’s room. Little Tanah curled up, clutching her pillow, one hand trailed away from her head by her knee.

That was when she saw it.

The overstrung shadow of a child, sleeping by her daughter’s bed. She didn’t want to look at it.

Overstretch.

Faceless. 

Is this what such things look like on the outside? She watched it as it layed there, half splayed in a way that seemed uncomfortable.

She watched as it didn’t move. She looked over at the head of her daughter's bed, and saw that it hadn’t snapped.

Was the wood too new? 

Would this stop once it dried?

Was this what did it?

All the tiredness in the world couldn’t make her sleep, seeing it then. She stayed there waiting for it to move for much too long, and while it didn't, her worry didn’t sate itself either.

She walked over to her daughter’s bed, to the foot of it, where the shadow leaned. Depressing the bed with its weight. Tanah stirred as she touched the shadow’s shoulder. The shadow seemed to disappear, as Tanah woke.

“Good morning.” she greeted, assuming that it was morning enough if she’d been woken up. She uncurled a little, and rubbed the blurriness from her eyes.

She wasn’t awake enough to feel her mothers distress, at least not in a way she could respond to. It was extremely early, and she didn’t imagine that she would get much sleep knowing what had appeared by her daughter’s bed.

So Charnetta went to the kitchen, to start on some tea. The terror she felt wasn’t something she wanted to share in that moment, even as the house seemed to settle with the cool night air.

Tanah followed after anyway, their schedule was going to be strange after this.

“It’s alright dear, you can catch up if you need to.”

“I’m good.”

“Alright, you want tea too?”

“Tea party?” Tanah asked, she was asking for cookies, or biscotti, or really any sweet they’d usually have with tea. This week it was oat bars.

“Tea party. But brush first.”

She went and did that while Charnetta started steeping the tea in a pot. She fetched the bars from the cookie jar when she heard a crash.

“Honey?! Tanah, are you alright!” she rushed over, to the bathroom. Finding a worried but unharmed Tanah.

She hadn’t even spit yet. 

Tanah continued to brush, not bothered by her mama’s worry this early in the morning.

That still left the sound to concern herself with, wherever it came from, she couldn’t trust it was nothing just yet. New alertness appeared in her as she frantically went about searching the few uninhabited rooms in the home.

Tanah, ever curious, followed after, looking through the windows. While her mama checked the closets.

It was surprisingly Tanah who caught the origin of their disturbance.  

Someone had fallen from the roof, and was apparently incapacitated by the clothesline. Whoever it was Charnetta didn’t want to have their death or sickness on her conscience, so without much preamble she hollered from the doorstep. “Are you alive?”

“Ah, yes?”

“How did you end up in my yard?”

“Not sure.”

“Well, you got here somehow. Do you have anyone to call?”

“No I don’t think I do.”

“Who should I call anyway? A doctor?”

“No, I’m not sure about that. Is that a-”, he said looking at the dreamcatcher hung on the clothesline pole.

“Yes, what else would it be?” she asked, realizing that it had been left out there. The man was only just beneath that side of the pole, and the thought crossed her mind. Is he one too?

She backed away while the man was dazed, she didn’t even turn to leave, as she opened the door to the cottage and scurried in.

It was as simple as anything, to call on a spiritualist to help her with her predicament, knowing that the man didn’t want a doctor. 

There was really no avoiding it now.