40th of Fall, 519
"What scares you most, out of anything in the world?"
It was getting late. Leth could be seen just crawling over the mountains. His silvery light spilled through the bedroom window, illuminating the thin film of dust that covered the small bed and muted the bright painted colours of the chest of
drawers. Madeira was kneeling on the floor, sacrificing her skirts to the dust, as she carefully set up a handful of toy blocks end to end. A familiar chill was rising from the floor, making goosflesh ripple at the back of her neck. In the darkest corner a ghastly shape flickered as it answered.
"I dunno..."
"Could it be... spiders? Snakes? The dark?"
"No! I'm not a baby."
The Spiritist set a blue block neatly atop a red block, building higher and higher. She could hear movement below as a couple paced and wept and waited anxiously for news. The light flickered as an owl swooped silently from the eaves to catch something on the lawn below, And in that second of darkness the figure could be seen crouched in the corner, its outline as sketchy and faded as an old charcoal drawing. But then the owl passed and it was gone, swallowed by the light.
"Can I tell you what I'm scared of?" Madeira posed to the darkness where it used to be. The flickering silhouette nodded. "I'm scared that when my children die, I won't have time to say goodbye, or say one last time much I love them."
Stony silence. Below the window something died with a squeak and a hush of disturbed feathers.
"Oh no!" Madeira purposefully tapped one of the lower blocks, and her whole tower came tumbling down. She frowned down on the destruction before her before looking into the corner. "Can you help me? I can't get my tower to stay up."
After a moment of hesitation a figure peeled itself out of the corner and shuffled shyly into the silvery light. It was a skinny, sickly boy, his mouth cracked and dry, his skin pale, his shirt dappled with vomit. His two front teeth were missing, and his tongue was poking nervously at the crack. His tongue, Madeira was baffled to see, was green. He knelt in front of her but couldn't quite look her in the eye.
"You gotta put the big ones on the bottom. It helps it stay up better."
"Thanks", Madeira smiled, sliding a big yellow block between them. "Like this?"
The boy nodded, and the two continued to build together. Madeira took opportunities to get him to make decisions and ask questions about how to build, until the boy began to raise his shy eyes and talk more animatedly. Soon they had a big, sturdy tower between them, and Madeira felt confident to try and steer the conversation back.
"You know, I think your mama and papa have the same fear as me. Most parents do. Why won't you go talk to them?"
"I can't. They'll be mad at me."
"Mad that you got sick? A lot of kids are getting sick around these parts. It's not your fault."
A green tongue snaked from between his lips, wetting the cracked skin.
"No, I lost my birthday present. My mom knit me a bunny, and I lost it. She's always mad when I lose things."
"I'm sure she won't be mad if you talk to her. They really miss you. And I think you miss them too."
The boy shook his head, his hair flopping around his eyes and his lip pushed out dangerously. Madeira had seen the same expression enough in both Emma and Amelie to know exactly what it meant. She smiled lopsidedly.
"Are you lying, Cole? You didn't lose it, did you?"
There was a moment of pouty silence while he picked at his lip. "I'm too old for bunnies."
"I'm sure you are, but you feel guilty, right? So what happened to it?"
The boy wavered indecisively, his smokey form flicking in and out of focus. After a long chime he pointed into the dark space beneath his bed. Madeira glanced at him before shuffling over and reaching beneath. Cobwebs and spiders shrank back from her magical gloves, and after a moment of groping she pulled out a paper sack tied with a bright blue ribbon. Inside was an assortment of half eaten sweets; marshmallows and caramels and glossy lollipops. After a few forgotten weeks the candy had developed an oily sheen, and under the sweet nostalgic fragrance there was some overripe, gummy smell to it that made her wrinkle her nose.
"Ah, you traded your bunny for this candy?"
The boy nodded once, hard, and tears welled in his eyes.
"Hey, it's okay. If it will make you feel better, we'll go get it back. Then will you talk to your parents?"
Another nod. He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand. "I didn't mean to. You won't tell mom will you?"
"Of course not. Who did you trade the bunny to? I'll bring it back and we can keep it just between us, okay?"
"I gave it to Mama Jook, for the candy. She trades toys for candy. Everyone knows that."
WC: 873
It was getting late. Leth could be seen just crawling over the mountains. His silvery light spilled through the bedroom window, illuminating the thin film of dust that covered the small bed and muted the bright painted colours of the chest of
drawers. Madeira was kneeling on the floor, sacrificing her skirts to the dust, as she carefully set up a handful of toy blocks end to end. A familiar chill was rising from the floor, making goosflesh ripple at the back of her neck. In the darkest corner a ghastly shape flickered as it answered.
"I dunno..."
"Could it be... spiders? Snakes? The dark?"
"No! I'm not a baby."
The Spiritist set a blue block neatly atop a red block, building higher and higher. She could hear movement below as a couple paced and wept and waited anxiously for news. The light flickered as an owl swooped silently from the eaves to catch something on the lawn below, And in that second of darkness the figure could be seen crouched in the corner, its outline as sketchy and faded as an old charcoal drawing. But then the owl passed and it was gone, swallowed by the light.
"Can I tell you what I'm scared of?" Madeira posed to the darkness where it used to be. The flickering silhouette nodded. "I'm scared that when my children die, I won't have time to say goodbye, or say one last time much I love them."
Stony silence. Below the window something died with a squeak and a hush of disturbed feathers.
"Oh no!" Madeira purposefully tapped one of the lower blocks, and her whole tower came tumbling down. She frowned down on the destruction before her before looking into the corner. "Can you help me? I can't get my tower to stay up."
After a moment of hesitation a figure peeled itself out of the corner and shuffled shyly into the silvery light. It was a skinny, sickly boy, his mouth cracked and dry, his skin pale, his shirt dappled with vomit. His two front teeth were missing, and his tongue was poking nervously at the crack. His tongue, Madeira was baffled to see, was green. He knelt in front of her but couldn't quite look her in the eye.
"You gotta put the big ones on the bottom. It helps it stay up better."
"Thanks", Madeira smiled, sliding a big yellow block between them. "Like this?"
The boy nodded, and the two continued to build together. Madeira took opportunities to get him to make decisions and ask questions about how to build, until the boy began to raise his shy eyes and talk more animatedly. Soon they had a big, sturdy tower between them, and Madeira felt confident to try and steer the conversation back.
"You know, I think your mama and papa have the same fear as me. Most parents do. Why won't you go talk to them?"
"I can't. They'll be mad at me."
"Mad that you got sick? A lot of kids are getting sick around these parts. It's not your fault."
A green tongue snaked from between his lips, wetting the cracked skin.
"No, I lost my birthday present. My mom knit me a bunny, and I lost it. She's always mad when I lose things."
"I'm sure she won't be mad if you talk to her. They really miss you. And I think you miss them too."
The boy shook his head, his hair flopping around his eyes and his lip pushed out dangerously. Madeira had seen the same expression enough in both Emma and Amelie to know exactly what it meant. She smiled lopsidedly.
"Are you lying, Cole? You didn't lose it, did you?"
There was a moment of pouty silence while he picked at his lip. "I'm too old for bunnies."
"I'm sure you are, but you feel guilty, right? So what happened to it?"
The boy wavered indecisively, his smokey form flicking in and out of focus. After a long chime he pointed into the dark space beneath his bed. Madeira glanced at him before shuffling over and reaching beneath. Cobwebs and spiders shrank back from her magical gloves, and after a moment of groping she pulled out a paper sack tied with a bright blue ribbon. Inside was an assortment of half eaten sweets; marshmallows and caramels and glossy lollipops. After a few forgotten weeks the candy had developed an oily sheen, and under the sweet nostalgic fragrance there was some overripe, gummy smell to it that made her wrinkle her nose.
"Ah, you traded your bunny for this candy?"
The boy nodded once, hard, and tears welled in his eyes.
"Hey, it's okay. If it will make you feel better, we'll go get it back. Then will you talk to your parents?"
Another nod. He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand. "I didn't mean to. You won't tell mom will you?"
"Of course not. Who did you trade the bunny to? I'll bring it back and we can keep it just between us, okay?"
"I gave it to Mama Jook, for the candy. She trades toys for candy. Everyone knows that."
WC: 873