On Mount Alyppia

Absentee

The girl was not there that afternoon.

The girl came nearly every day, through the hot summer and in the chilly winter, on sunny afternoons and even rainy ones, when he didn't venture out to sculpt. He would peek through the window and see her sitting in the olive tree, watching, waiting. She missed very few days. The sun seemed darker when she did.

Leonid had first noticed her a few years ago, when he had been in the gardens chip-chip-chipping away at his stone. A breeze had come through, and when Leonid had lifted his eyes up he had caught sight of something red: a headscarf. The girl was perched high in the tree, her eyes wide and her grip tight, so very still she might have been a statue herself. She had been young, perhaps ten or eleven, but Leonid was only thirteen himself. He'd wondered how he had not seen her before.

Leonid had forced his eyes to pass over her as if he hadn't seen her, because it had not seemed she wanted to be seen, and turned back to his work and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, breathing in deeply. He had watched the girl out of the corner of his eye. She had not moved, except to shift on the branch, and seemed completely engrossed in his work. Leonid had reluctantly gone in for supper when he was called, at sundown. The girl had been gone when he had gone back out, but she was there again the next day. And the next day, and the next day, and the next.

Assuntina, the prince's only child and Leonid's only real friend, had been keeping him company on one of the days when the girl had not shown, sitting on a bench and chattering away. She had noticed about the fifth time he had glanced anxiously towards the tree, and after a considerable amount of blushing and coaxing Leonid told his friend about the girl in the red scarf who sat and watched him sculpt. Assuntina had been intrigued, and stayed to chat with him the next day as well. The girl had come that day, perched in her usual spot amid the gnarled olive branches. She had stayed until they had gone in, and they watched from the window as she looked up at the sky for a moment and then climbed down and disappeared behind the wall.

"Why don't you speak to her?' Assuntina asked Leonid later that evening, when they were sitting in his room munching on flatbread and cheese and tomatoes.

He had to stop and think about it. "I-I don't want her to leave. I like that someone likes my sculptures, and I'm afraid that if I talk to her she will go away. I mean, if she climbs a tree to watch me but never talks to me perhaps she doesn't want to talk to me, and I don't want to scare her away. It's like seeing a little animal right next to you: you stay very still and hope you don't scare it off. Not that she is an animal..."

"Hmm," Assuntina had said simply, shoveling more food into her face. And that had been that.

So Leonid kept sculpting, and the girl kept watching. He began a special sculpture, one he worked on sparingly, when the girl wasn't there. A sculpture of a small, eager-eyed figure perched between two branches. He would talk to her, someday, he decided. He would show her the sculpture.

It took Leonid a long, long time to finish the sculpture. He worked on it bit by bit, making sure all the details were just right. He worked sparsely, taking long breaks, and it took him nearly two years to finish. He added the finishing touches on a sunny morning, then left the statue uncovered and settled down with a book to pass the time, waiting. He would not try to speak with her just yet, but he wanted her to see the sculpture. Perhaps she would speak first. So Leonid waited for her to come. And waited. And waited. She never did.

It was all right, Leonid told himself. She was probably busy. She skipped a day every once in a while. Or two days. Or three. Or four.

Leonid began to worry. What could be keeping her away, and for so long? He tried to think up reasons for her absence. Perhaps she was a maid, and her mistress had her working longer hours. Perhaps she was helping a father or uncle manage a store or guild, stocking shelves or keeping books or waiting behind a counter. Perhaps she stayed at home, and a family member had fallen ill, and she was tending to them. Perhaps... perhaps she was ill herself. Perhaps she was dead or dying.

He pushed the thought away.

Leonid told himself not to get ahead of himself. There must be a perfectly good, valid reason for the girl to be missing. He kept waiting. He sat in the garden every afternoon. A week passed. She didn't come.