The Twelfth Day of Midwinter

The river roared. Outside the rocky canopy Mei was sheltered under, the heavy rain thundered onto the ground. This was a turbulent place, a turbulent memory. He began to doubt whether it was the right choice.

“Why have you brought us here?” the other goat asked, walking into existence alongside Mei.

“The decision I made in this place changed everything about my life from that point onward,” Mei said. “And now, I think there’s another decision that needs to be made. Perhaps not quite as big, but still important.”

The other goat nodded. “That’s certainly true. But what’s the decision?”

“If I say what it is, I’ll already have made it,” Mei said. He looked down into the rushing water, at the current that, if he let it, would carry him to places unknown, for better or for worse. He looked back up at the goat standing beside him. “Are you ready to have a name?”

“A name to make me real?” the goat said. Mei nodded. They hesitated only slightly before answering, “Yes, I think I’m ready.”

Mei smiled, happily but sadly. “You’re Mei, of course. You always have been. Well, perhaps not at the start when you were a metaphor for my fear, but what you are now has always been Mei.”

“But you’re Mei too?”

“Oh yes,” Mei said, smiling down into the water again. It didn’t look quite so turbulent all of a sudden, although it flowed no less fast. “We’re both Mei. And it’s time I stopped pretending that you don’t exist. I’m still me; I’m just also you, at least some of the time.”

“Maybe even at the same time?” the other Mei said.

“I don’t see why not.” Gradually, the rain started to ease. “I also don’t think we’ll be seeing each other again after this.”

“No. It doesn’t make sense for us to have two different bodies anymore. Perhaps it never did.”

“Perhaps not.” Below them, the water rushed ever onward. Or perhaps it stayed where it was, and the rest of the world rushed past instead. Maybe they were just two different ways of looking at the same thing. “Thank you,” Mei said to themselves, and closed their eyes.

The snow was completely gone that morning. It was as if it had never come, although Mei would never forget that it had.

They looked at Gabu and Kon-kon, asleep nearby them in the cave, and smiled as they recalled yesterday’s events. Their smile faltered as they remembered the one problem left to be solved, and it was an important one. Luckily, he had all morning to think on it, and he found himself thinking with a new-found clarity of thought.

Again and again, only one solution presented itself. Mei rolled the idea back and forth in their mind until it had substance, and then set about asking themselves all the questions that naturally arose from it. By the time his husband yawned and stretched awake, Mei was confident enough in the idea that he was ready to discuss it with another person.

“Are you sure about that, Mei?” Gabu said when Mei took him outside and explained. “It would be quite a big step.”

“No, I’m not sure,” Mei said. “That’s why I’m asking you.”

They spent several minutes discussing it. Then they took a break, during which time Mei ate some breakfast—the grass was already starting to recover its usual flavour—and then they discussed it some more. There was much to consider; the happiness of several people was at stake. By the end of it, Gabu and Mei were, if not totally convinced that this was a good idea, confident that it was worth a try.

When Kon-kon awoke, they explained the idea to her, making sure she understood exactly what it would involve. “Would that be something that you want?” Gabu said. “We’ll only do this if you’re okay with it.”

“And you can change your mind whenever you want,” Mei said. “Any of us can.”

Kon-kon thought for a while, and then nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay, then,” Mei said with a smile. “Let’s do it.”

The three of them went into the forest and found Greta, who then found Sarah. Gabu and Mei explained to the two deer what they were planning, and while Greta was sceptical at first, she and Sarah eventually agreed that it couldn’t hurt to try. Truth be told, Gabu and Mei would have gone ahead with it even if Greta and Sarah had disapproved, but they valued Greta’s friendship and things would be easier overall if she and Sarah were on their side.

Together, they all went to find Takkan.

They found the fox humming an unfamiliar tune to himself as he wandered alone through the forest. Kon-kon waited with Greta and Sarah while Gabu and Mei talked to Takkan alone. To Mei’s relief, he seemed to be in better spirits than he had been a couple of days ago.

“Good morning, Takkan,” Gabu said. “We’ve got something quite important to talk to you about.”

Takkan looked at the two of them apprehensively. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m feeling much better since the other day. I’ve decided not to leave the forest, if that’s what you were worried about.

“It’s something else,” Mei said. “Not a bad thing, just important.”

“Go on,” Takkan said, his curiosity piqued.

“You know we’ve been looking after Kon-kon these past few days?” Gabu said.

“She’s the young fox who was with you at Anything Day, right?” Takkan said. “Greta wanted to know if I knew any fox families who would take her in.” He narrowed his eyes at them slightly. Mei could sense him trying to guess what this conversation was about.

“That’s right,” Gabu said. “At first, we were just going to look after her temporarily, but now it looks like we’re going to be her parents for real. Permanently, I mean.”

“I’m very happy for you,” Takkan said, still eyeing them suspiciously.

“The problem is,” Mei said, “Kon-kon still needs someone who can teach her everything she needs to know to be a fox.”

“Ah, I understand,” Takkan said, now on firmer ground. “You want me to come and give her lessons. Teach her how to hunt, that sort of thing.”

“Yes,” Mei said. “But also, we think Kon-kon would benefit from having another fox around all the time, someone she can think of as a parent.”

Takkan’s eyes widened in surprise. “What are you suggesting, exactly?”

“We want you to be a parent with us,” Gabu said. “Live in our den and help us raise Kon-kon, all four of us together.”

For the first time since Mei had met him, Takkan was lost for words. The fox, usually two or three steps ahead of anyone he was talking to, was uncharacteristically silent as he tried to process what he’d just been told.

“It’s a lot to think about, I know,” Mei said. “You don’t need to give us your answer right now.”

The fox remained frozen for a few more seconds, and then began pacing back and forth in front of them. After a while, he turned to them and said, “All three of us would be equal parents to her?”

“If it goes well, yes,” Gabu said. “If any of us, including Kon-kon, decides it isn’t working out, we’ll go back to the way things are now.”

Takkan nodded, and then went back to pacing. A couple of times, he stopped, looked at them, and drew in a breath as if he was about to say something. Both times, he closed his mouth and continued walking instead.

At last, he stopped pacing and took a few steps towards them, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “I never thought I would be a father,” he said earnestly. “The most I had hoped for was to meet someone I liked and settle down together. I… I’m not sure what to say, except… Yes, I’ll do it.”

Gabu and Mei both beamed. “That’s great,” Gabu said. “I really hope this works out.”

“There’s just one other thing I want to know,” Takkan said. “It won’t affect my answer, but I want to be sure I’m not getting the wrong idea.” He looked nervously at Mei. “Are we going to be just parents together, or…something else?”

Gabu deferred to Mei, signalling to him without words that any answer would be fine.

“Just parents,” Mei said, watching Takkan’s reaction carefully. Because—and only because Takkan didn’t look too disappointed, they added, “…for now.”

“Kon-kon,” Gabu said as the three of them returned to where their daughter had been waiting with the two deer, “this is Takkan. He’s the fox we were telling you about who we’d like to be part of our family.”

Kon-kon walked cautiously up to Takkan and sniffed at him, and then stared up at his face. Takkan looked back down at her with a mixture of apprehension and wonderment on his face.

After a long pause, the first thing Kon-kon said was, “You sang that song.” Mei grimaced from secondhand embarrassment. And then, displaying the kind of inconveniently good recollection possessed only by foxes and small children, Kon-kon said, “What does ‘coit’ mean?”

“It…” Takkan said hesitantly, “was the only thing I could think of that rhymed with poet.” He smiled awkwardly down at her. “Hello.”

Kon-kon scrutinised him carefully. Gabu and Mei held their breath. Then, at long last, Kon-kon smiled back. “Hello.”

It was the climactic scene. Sandra, having broken out of her shell and discovered a new, more confident version of herself, would reunite with Dalton and set the terms for their relationship. And of course, since this was a musical, it could only end in a song. Gabu, Takkan and Kon-kon watched from the sidelines as Mei, Sagi and the choir set up to practise it.

“Sandra?!” Sagi exclaimed, beginning the scene.

Mei took in a deep breath and allowed their own newly discovered self to take the lead, filling them with confidence. “Tell me about it, stud.”

Sagi started to sing. “I got chills, they’re multiplyin’. And I’m loosin’ control. ‘Cause the power you’re supplyin’—it’s electrifying!”

“You’d better shape up,” Mei sang, “‘cause I need a man. And my heart is set on you. You’d better shape up. You’d better understand: To my heart I must be true.”

“Nothin’ left, nothin’ left for me to do.”

“You’re the one that I want,” Mei sang, and the choir echoed, “You are the one I want,” and they repeated the line two more times. “The one I need, oh yes, indeed.”

“If you’re filled with affection, you’re too shy to convey,” Mei turned their head to look at Takkan and gave the fox their most seductive smile. To his immense satisfaction, he saw the fox shiver slightly. He looked back to Sagi. “…mediate in my direction. Feel your way.”

“I better shape up, ‘cause you need a man—”

“I need a man, who can keep me satisfied.”

“I better shape up, if I’m gonna prove—”

“You’d better prove, that my faith is justified.” Out of the corner of their eye, Mei could see Takkan mouthing Dalton’s lines at them.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure down deep inside.”

Mei and Sagi launched into the chorus, repeating it almost until it got old, ending the song with one final, “You’re the one that I want!” The other actors watching from the sidelines cheered their appreciation.

Gabu ran over to them. “That was amazing!”

It had felt amazing too. Because he was still feeling playful, Mei said, “Tell me about it, stud,” and both of them started giggling.

At the top of Moonrise Hill, the four of them watched the sun slowly set behind the mountain on the last day of Midwinter. Gabu and Mei sat next to each other, while Takkan and Kon-kon sat just in front of them.

As the golden orange light gradually started to fade, the forest seemed to still. Soon, its nocturnal residents would awaken and the treetops, burrows and bushes would bustle with life, but for now, everything was peaceful.

“This has been quite a Midwinter,” Gabu said to no one in particular.

“I certainly won’t forget it in a hurry,” Mei said. “So much has changed.”

“Mostly for the better, no?” Takkan said.

“Mostly, yes.” Mei smiled bittersweetly.

“How long ‘til next Midwinter?” Kon-kon said.

“Thirteen full moons,” Gabu said.

“Many, many days,” Mei said. Kon-kon probably hadn’t seen more than one full moon in her life. “That was five words you just said. Well done!” Kon-kon smiled proudly.

“I can’t help but wonder how much might change between this Midwinter and the next,” Takkan said pensively. “Will we still be a family after all that time?”

Mei considered this. Answers like “Of course we will” presented themselves, but nothing was certain. “I hope we will,” they said instead.

“You’ll be all grown up by then,” Gabu said to Kon-kon. “Just like your cousin Hilari.”

“I still can’t believe Hilari’s half a year old already,” Mei said. “The past year has really gone by fast.”

The sun had sunk out of sight by now, but Takkan, Mei noticed, was still looking longingly beyond the mountain’s peak. Before Mei could say anything, however, Takkan shook his head minutely and turned to sit with his back to the mountain, facing them. “A year isn’t such a long time, after all. Let’s make the most of this one while it lasts.”

Mei smiled, and Takkan smiled back. For once, unlike the knowing smirk the fox usually wore, this was a genuine, earnest smile. Gabu and Kon-kon smiled too, and the hilltop felt like home.

“It’s getting cold,” Gabu said. “Shall we go inside?” Kon-kon shivered and nodded vehemently, and so they did so.

As the first stars began to twinkle overhead, the family of one goat, one wolf and two foxes curled up together in the shelter of their den. And as they drifted off to sleep, they dreamed not of happy endings, but of happily ever after.