Dingos Surrounded the Baby, but Something Older Watched From the Ridge

What Elsie Remembered

Elsie started drawing a week after it rained. There are usually seven circles, and something smaller in the middle. Clara calmly watched as she drew the same shape in the soil behind the house. Elsie answered without looking up when asked what it was. "It's where they talked to me."

Clara crouched down next to her. "What did they say?"Elsie thought about the subject and then muttered, "To wait until it's mine." Clara didn't ask any more questions. Miriam had told her, "Kids remember things differently." "She might forget the words, but she won't forget the rhythm." Clara put that sentence away. It sounded like the most honest thing anyone had said all month.

Faded Chant, Lingering Feelings

Tom wanted to get off the ridge, even if it was just for a little time. Clara didn't. There was no argument about the choice; it just stayed. In the end, they came to an agreement: Tom would take a brief posting inland. Clara and Elsie moved into the empty research cabin for the season, and weeks went by. Clara played the old tapes one last time, going through the mantra that Elsie used to whisper to her every night. The last version, which Miriam hadn't translated, ended with a sentence that was gently repeated, like a name said in the evening. She kept playing it. It was if Elsie had ceased saying the words because they had done their job.