141: Chapter 141 Leaf Letter
That summer, as the shade grew larger, the leaves on the trees also began to fall. It wasn't the kind of falling seen in autumn; they fell because they couldn't stand the heat. The leaves were still green, their edges curled and dry, crumbling at a touch. Lin Xiaohe picked one up and placed it in her palm. The leaf was larger than her hand, its veins like a dense net. She held it up to the sunlight, and the light passed through the veins, revealing intricate patterns like a map. She looked at it for a long time before pressing it into her notebook. The cat crouched nearby, looking up at the tree with its head tilted, the tip of its tail twitching slightly. It was hot too, its tongue lolling out as it panted.
The next day, Lin Xiaohe wrote a passage in her notebook: "The tree is too hot, and many leaves have fallen. I picked one up and pressed it in my book. The leaf won't dry out anymore. It remembers the heat of summer." When she finished writing, she closed the book and placed it by the tree roots. The cat walked over and batted the notebook with its paw; the book flipped open, revealing the leaf. It gave the leaf a sniff and then sneezed. Lin Xiaohe laughed. "You're feeling the heat too." The cat didn't answer, but it stood up, walked to the base of the tree, and dug a small hole with its paws. Then it looked up at the tree as if to say: "Come down, I've dug a hole for you." No leaves came down, so the cat crouched by the hole and waited.
In the afternoon, the wind picked up. The leaves rustled, and a few drifted down, landing on the cat's head and into the hole. The cat nudged the leaves in the hole with its paw and then lay down beside it, eyes closed, its tail-tip twitching softly. Lin Xiaohe crouched nearby, watching the hole that was now half-filled with leaves. She felt that the cat wasn't just seeking shade; it was waiting for the tree to speak. Trees can't talk, but they drop leaves. Wherever the leaves fall, that's where the words land.
When the news reached Millfield, Eric was watering his mushrooms. Sarah ran in and said that the tree in Xinfeng Town was dropping leaves, and a cat was digging a hole under the tree, waiting for them to fall in. Eric set down his watering can and walked over to the small tree he had planted. A few leaves had fallen from his tree as well, green with curled edges. He picked one up and placed it in his palm. The leaf was very small, even smaller than the white mushrooms he grew. He placed the leaf on the mushroom rack alongside the mushrooms. The mushrooms were white and the leaf was green; it looked very nice.
He remembered the day he first planted mushrooms—the soil was black and the spawn was white. He had crouched in front of the rack for a long time before the mushrooms finally sprouted. Now the tree was growing, and the leaves were falling. He was waiting for mushrooms, while the tree was waiting for the wind. He smiled. "Everything will come in time."
When the news reached Greenfield, Martha was playing her guitar. Hearing the news, she set down her guitar and walked to the small tree she had planted. A few leaves had fallen from her tree too, yellowed and curled. She picked one up and placed it on her guitar strings. When the wind blew, the leaf trembled slightly, making a very faint sound like someone sighing. She plucked a string; the string vibrated, and the leaf trembled even more. She played a very light tune, and the leaf skipped across the strings as if dancing. When she finished, the leaf fell to the ground. She picked it up and put it in her pocket. "I'll keep it," she said.
The hole under the big tree in Xinfeng Town grew deeper and deeper. The cat dug a little every day, scratching at the soil with its paws to expand the hole. The excavated earth piled up around the edges like a small city wall. Lin Xiaohe asked it, "What are you doing?" The cat didn't answer, but it jumped into the hole, crouched at the bottom, and looked up. Lin Xiaohe jumped in too, crouching beside the cat. The hole wasn't deep, just enough for her and the cat to crouch in. She looked up and saw the canopy like a giant roof, the leaves so dense that sunlight leaked through the gaps like stars. She reached out but couldn't touch the leaves, though she could feel the wind. The wind blew in, cool and refreshing, pouring into the hole from above. She shivered. The cat shivered too, but it didn't leave; it crouched even lower, curling itself into a ball.
Lin Xiaohe sat in the hole for a long time. She remembered the day she first drew a door on the wall—she had crouched at the base of the wall just like this, looking up at the letters. Now the wall was still there, the door was still there, the tree was still there, and now there was a hole too. She didn't know why the cat was digging this hole, but she felt it was making a nest. A nest for the tree. The tree stood on the ground with its roots in the soil, but its shadow fell upon the earth, and when the wind blew, the shadow moved. The cat dug the hole by the roots, perhaps so the tree's shadow would have a place to lie down.
The next day, something new appeared in the hole. The cat had brought it—a piece of red cloth, old and faded from washing, but very soft. The cat spread the cloth at the bottom of the hole, flattened it with its paws, then lay down on it, turned over, and rolled around. It stood up, shook its fur, jumped out, and crouched by the edge of the hole, looking at the cloth. Lin Xiaohe jumped in too and sat on the cloth. It was very soft, much more comfortable than the tree roots. She looked up at the canopy; the wind blew, and the leaves rustled. She closed her eyes and heard the wind passing through the leaves, the cat's breathing, and her own heartbeat. She opened her eyes and smiled. "This is your room." The cat didn't answer, but it jumped into the hole, crouched beside her, and rested its head on her leg. She reached out and stroked the cat's head. The cat narrowed its eyes, a purring sound coming from its throat.
When the news reached the Coffee Shop, Molly was brewing coffee. Chen Xiaoyuan ran in and said the cat had dug a hole under the tree and spread a red cloth, and Lin Xiaohe was sitting inside. Molly set down the coffee pot and walked to the tree. She crouched by the hole, looking at Lin Xiaohe and the cat inside. "Is it comfortable?" Lin Xiaohe nodded. "It's comfortable. You come down too." Molly jumped in, and the three people—plus the cat—squeezed into the hole. The hole wasn't large, but it was just right. She looked up at the canopy; the wind blew, and the leaves rustled. She smiled. "This is a room under the tree. No need for a roof; the tree is the roof." Chen Xiaoyuan jumped in as well, and the four people huddled together. He looked up at the leaves. "The tree will drop leaves, and they'll fall on our heads." No sooner had he spoken than a leaf drifted down and landed on the tip of his nose. He was stunned for a moment, and everyone laughed.
George walked over and saw four people and a cat squeezed into the hole. He laughed. "What are you all doing?" Lin Xiaohe looked up. "Enjoying the shade." George crouched by the hole, looking at them. "I'm coming down too." He jumped in, making the hole even more crowded, but no one left. He looked up at the canopy. The leaves were a brilliant green, and sunlight leaked through the gaps, falling on everyone's faces. "This tree will keep growing," he said. Lin Xiaohe asked, "How high?" George thought for a moment. "All the way to the sky." Everyone looked up at the canopy. They couldn't see the sky, only the leaves. But they felt as though the tree had already reached the heavens.
That night, Lin Feng crouched under the Old Locust Tree. Margaret came over with a plate of mushrooms and crouched beside him.
"Lin Feng, the cat dug a hole under the tree and spread a red cloth. Everyone jumped in and sat there, saying it's a room under the tree."
Lin Feng took a mushroom and took a bite. "Did you go down?"
Margaret nodded. "I did. It was a tight squeeze, but very warm."
Lin Feng chewed the mushroom. "The tree will remember."
Margaret looked at him. "Remember what?"
Lin Feng swallowed. "It remembers those who dig holes beneath it. Those who sit in the hole. Those who look up at it. It remembers it all."
Early the next morning, Old Zhou came to deliver the mail. He parked his vehicle under the tree and saw the hole by the roots with the red cloth spread at the bottom. He crouched by the hole and looked at it. It wasn't big, just enough for one person to crouch in. He jumped in and crouched on the red cloth. Looking up, he saw the canopy like a giant roof. The wind blew, and the leaves rustled. He closed his eyes and heard the wind passing through the leaves and his own heartbeat. He opened his eyes and smiled. He stood up, jumped out of the hole, pulled the letters from his bag, and posted them on the wall. After finishing, he got on his bike and continued riding. The chain clinked steadily. He rode slowly but steadily. He thought of that hole, the red cloth, and the people who had sat in it. They had looked up at the tree. And the tree looked back at them. He smiled and kept riding.
[End of Chapter 141]