Names Above Houses

For Hours, Fidelito Hangs from the Topmost Branch Before Letting Go

29 For Hours, Fidelito Hangs from the Topmost Branch Before Letting Go Because, after rain, it smells like green tea his mother brews on slow mornings, because he likes the view of the world upside down from this height, he hooks his legs around the topmost branch of the world’s sixthlargest Douglas fir. Fidelito has a mission. There is a certain grace with trees, he thinks, and hanging from one for a long time will show him how little he needs his legs, whether his dreams are different, whether he is closer, the way mountains or skyscrapers or even Douglas firs scratch the back of the sky. If Fidelito is part of the order of back-scratchers he will know simply by hanging around until slowly his blood, in an act of defiance, rouses itself from his feet and leaves in procession down the arteries of his knees, marching, red ants renewing their contract with gravity, and dizzy, Fidelito lets go. ...