Turn 213 of 226
Skip two months. The wish never stopped. We are still growing
Two months pass. The wish does not count months. The wish counts pounds.
The 390-foot frames are gone. The 390-foot frames are a memory the way the apartment is a memory, the way the bathroom mirror is a memory, the way the crop top and the athletic shorts are a memory — things that happened to a body that is no longer the body. The 580-foot frames lie in the valley and the valley is not the valley it was. The valley is a crater. Two months of 960-times density weight lying on granite and forest floor and the lying has pressed the valley six feet deeper than the river's original course. The river rerouted. The river found a new path around the 742,000-pound bodies and the new path is the thing the water does when the water meets something that does not move. The not moving is the thing the 580-foot frames do because the 580-foot frames are the thing the valley is now.
The 742,000 pounds. The number is the thing the 390-foot frame would have understood. The 580-foot frame does not understand numbers. The 580-foot frame understands weight the way a mountain understands weight — as the thing it is, not the thing it carries. The 742,000 pounds are distributed across the 580-foot frames and the distribution is fat and muscle and bone in the same ratio the wish has always maintained: the soft over the hard over the dense. The fat layer is thicker now. The soft apron of flesh that Lena's hand found on her stomach two months ago is the thing that hangs to her knees when she stands and the hanging is the thing the wish built and the building is the thing that did not stop. The muscle beneath is 960-times density still — the density does not change because the density is the thing the wish finished and the finishing is the thing the wish does not undo. But the size of the muscle is the thing the wish keeps feeding. The thighs are the size of grain silos. The arms are the size of water towers. The 580-foot frame standing is the thing the Cascades see from the south and the seeing is the thing the weather patterns shift around.
The den is too small. The den was built for 390-foot frames and the 580-foot frames do not fit and the not fitting is the thing the 742,000-pound bodies resolved by tearing the northern ridge open. The ridge is gone. The 800 feet of granite is rubble now, scattered across the valley floor, the den's chamber exposed to the sky like a skull cracked open. They sleep in the open. The sleeping in the open is the thing the 580-foot frames chose two months ago and the choosing is the thing the growth made permanent — the den was permanent for the 390-foot body the way the apartment was permanent for the 6'6" body, and the 580-foot body outgrew it the same way. The outgrowing is the thing the wish does. The doing is the thing that does not stop.
Diane's body is Lena's body. Not identical — Diane's fat sits heavier in her thighs, Lena's sits heavier in her stomach, the distribution is the thing the individual skeleton dictates. But the 580-foot frames are the same mass, the same density, the same 742,000 pounds, and the same is the thing the wish did to Diane through proximity and the proximity is the thing that did not stop. The body hair is longer. The yellowed teeth are yellower. The nails are thicker, the skin darker with sun and soil and the accumulated grime that two months of rain has not washed because the rain does not clean 960-times density skin. The rain moves the surface. The surface re-forms. The re-forming is the thing the body does because the body is 960-times density and the rain is not.
The state is quiet. The military did not come back. The governor's office stopped issuing statements six weeks ago. The satellite feeds show two thermal signatures in the Cascades — enormous, growing, the heat output increasing each week in a curve that the analysts cannot model because the curve does not flatten. The curve is the wish. The wish is the thing the analysts cannot see. The analysts see the heat. The analysts see the growth. The analysts do not see the warmth in the stomach that is the thing the growth comes from. The warmth is still building. The building is the thing two months of sleep and fighting and eating and sleeping and fighting has fed. The feeding is the thing the open sky gives. The open sky is the thing the 580-foot frames lie under. The lying is the thing the wish fills. The filling is the thing that does not stop. The not stopping is the thing the 742,000 pounds are. The are is the thing that is. The is. The is. The is.
The elk herd is gone. The herd migrated south past the perimeter three weeks ago and the perimeter is the thing the urine marks hold but the marks are the thing the 580-foot frames reapply every three days because the three days is the thing the scent lasts and the lasting is the thing the territory needs. The hunting is the thing the 580-foot frames do when the hunger comes and the hunger comes every four days now and the four days is the thing the 742,000-pound metabolism dictates. They hunt black bear. The black bear are the thing the subalpine meadow holds and the holding is the thing the 580-foot frames walk through and the walking is the thing the bears do not escape. The eating is raw. The eating has been raw since the drainage tunnel. The eating is the thing the 960-times density teeth do to bone and the doing is the thing that does not cook. The not cooking is the thing the animal does not apologize for. The not apologizing is the thing the wish taught. The teaching is the thing that started in the bathroom mirror. The mirror is the thing that is 580 feet below the body now. The below is the thing the body does not look down to. The not looking is the thing the 580-foot frame is. The is. The is. The is.