ONE-HUNDRED-SIX: Epilogue

ONE-HUNDRED-SIX: Epilogue

I don’t think it fair to conclude the prodigal’s story, without a hint of further redemption.

The days that followed Arous’ homecoming, though not all together easy or without pain for all of us involved, were richer in a way that they hadn’t been before. Before I could make it to the Diofe’s Willing room in the morning, Arous had beat me to it. Every morning, she drank hot tea and smiled at him. I don’t think I ever walked in on them talking, but just sitting there enjoying one another’s company.  Without looking away from Arous, I’d hear the Diofe whisper a warm “Miguel” in my direction as if all his energy was focused on me.

After spending a short time basking in his presence, we’d go out on the porch: Arous, Octavius and I. Octavius would take up the whole swing, with Arous and I on the steps. As soon as Arcadia would hear Arous’ voice, she’d run to the porch to grab a slice of apple from Arous. Then Octavius and Arcadia would engage in a game of chase.

It went like this for the remainder of the spring and throughout the summer; our mornings meandered slow and easy awakening.

Every other day, Arous would sigh, “It’s so efficient here.”  I kept waiting for more but it never came, though there seemed to be a deep something we were both waiting on.

I thought we were waiting to start the drawing of the twelve, but as it turns out, that wasn’t quite it.

Spring had chased summer and now summer insisted leaving on a crisp morning at the beginning of fall. Arous spent the summer dancing about time and things and waited for a new autumn.

Octavius sat in the swing, his hundred-pound plus frame swayed in the swing with the breeze. Arcadia raced up from the north pasture. Octavius’ tale switched. Arcadia had trotted up the lane a bit, her ears forward and her back leg relaxing and tensing, relaxing and tensing. She spun around in a circle and trotted up the lane a bit further. Without warning Octavius leapt from the swing, over our heads and ran up and positioned himself in front of Arcadia.

“He’s always protecting her,” said Arous. “Wonder what has got them all worked up?”

I stood up to get a better look on things. The light woke the world now. Even being Aclarid, I had sensed nothing out of the ordinary.  Then I saw it.

“Arous, there is someone walking down the lane toward the house.”

Arous stood.

“I don’t see him.”

“He’s not in view yet. He’s a ten minute walk still. There is a lame horse behind him. A white one. Dazzling white but lame,” I paused and noticed the horse wasn’t the only one who was lame. “The man walks with a limp, too.”

“A limp? That doesn’t sound familiar. What does he look like, Miguel?”

I couldn’t describe him, though he seemed familiar.  All of his inner life was scrambled with his outer appearance for me. His head was down. All I could see was the one on his mind.  I looked over at her; she was staring at me as if there was something she hadn’t told me.

“Miguel?”

“Arous, he’s coming for you.”

ONE-HUNDRED-FIVE: Home

As Arous began to walk the last bit home, her stomach began to knot. Tears began to flood Arous’ face as feelings of shame and remorse began to engulf her soul. Remorse soon turned to bitter anger: she had been self-center and spoiled. Arous’ mind rehearsed in her head just how it would happen.  Would he reject her? Laugh at her? Or pretend not to recognize her? Guilt and shame began to overtake her, almost stopping her in her tracks, paralyzing her from taking another step.

She fought over and over with herself.  Fake fights. Real fights. Useless self-flagellation.

She took control of her breath.  She stopped along the road to listen.  The Bob White’s were singing, “bob-white, bob-bob-white”.  Blue Jays and Robins gabbed and joked all around her. Soon, an entire school of blue, silver and green poisajos surrounded her, welcoming her, encouraging her on. They sung a harmonious song she had missed for a year; her heart fluttered.

“This is how you must’ve made my mother feel,” she said.  They paused and blinked a collected yes to her.

Just below her she could see people in the fields: Sasquatch, men, women, a Desperado on a horse. As if her ears were opened, she heard singing.  Those in the fields were singing as if this was the first song of spring. It was a song of celebration; Arous had forgotten that it was Spring Jubilee. Those old songs of faith comforted Arous. As she walked, she saw more and more beings. Children were running around, chasing poisajos, making new friends. A Sasquatch helped here, a Momo.  Sentient beings came from all outside of Alippiana; there were Muskogee, Eskimo, Nephilim, Desperado, Swahili, Zulu, Korean, Prussian, Irish, all the colors of the rainbow and every name they are called by. Every language a song of dance understood in love.

Arous rounded the bend in the road to see the two Weeping Willows which opened the two rows of strong and majestic oaks; the sum of which two glorious magnolias introduced the house.

At last, Arous was home.

As Arous’ first step christened the gravel drive, she could here shouting in the fields and commotion the half mile ahead at the house. Someone had finally recognized her, and it wasn’t me, Miguel.

I know, I see everything, me, Miguel: I missed it all. I was out at the pond, sitting with that stupid cat while he watched the catfish, Watusi. But at that moment, I felt. Octavius and I watched it unfold in the reflection of the muddy pond water.

Her stomach tied itself up.  She could feel bitter gall rising. Shame glued her to that spot, her paralyzed legs wouldn’t take her one more inch.  But Arous had taken all the steps she needed for reunion with her Diofe.

At the end of the drive Arous noticed a figure running toward her.  Unashamed and unhindered by his robe and slippers, the half-naked man ran toward her. She could hear the faint sound of sobs between his excited gasps for breath. In an overwhelming instant, the large, warm grasp she’d remembered since a baby engulfed her.  He said nothing but sobbed and laughed on her neck.  Arous’ tears met him with muffled sobs, cries softened by his strong yet tender embrace. For so long, she had missed calling the name she loved most.

“Daddy, oh Daddy.  I’m home.”

ONE HUNDRED-FOUR: Man without a face

ONE HUNDRED-FOUR: Man without a face

She woke up to something nudging her, shaking her gently.

At first, the misshapen figure frightened her and she tried to push away.

She felt silky hair in her hands.  She tried to focus her eyes on the face in front of her.  Warm sweet breath poured over her.  A soft chirping vibration filled her ears.

A Momo’s arms were lifting her. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried.

She was sat back down in a shade and felt the breeze of a fan.

Gentle fingers pried open her mouth. She felt something cool and wet on her tongue.

“Hey,” a man said.

She tried to open her eyes. 

“Just a little. Whoa!  Too much’ll make you sick.”

Arous stomach resisted the cool liquid.  She gagged.  She felt something cool on her neck and face.

“There, there.  That should help cool you down a bit.”  Arous forced her eyes open to see a thin, rugged faced man bending over her. His dark skin wrinkled into carved kindness and wisdom about his face.

The Momo was just beside her.

“It’s you,” she said to the Momo.

The Momo chirped and attempted to sit her up a little straighter.

“Maybe I should get you out of here?” The man said and the Momo nodded.

Arous looked over and saw that she was leaning against an old rusted and red pick-up.

“Let me guess,” Arous voice cracked. “It has the name Ford stamped into the tailgate.”

The shade of the man’s hat obscured his face but she could see him laugh.

“Doesn’t come with AC but at 55 MPI it’ll be cooler than this dessert.  Take my arm.  Now that’s it.  Easy up.”

“I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

“Few have said it better than that,” he said.

They both smiled.

The Desperado helped Arous walk to the truck, ever patient with her stumbling steps.

The Momo opened the door and secured Arous before shutting the door.

“This is where we depart, my friend,” said the Desperado to the Momo tipping his hat.

The Momo leaned in and kissed Arous on the forehead.

“Thank you,” said Arous.

They began to drive away.

“I sung her back to life,” said Arous.

“I know.”

The bumpy road refused to befriend her as she sipped bit after bit of water. They had already had to pull over once because of her body’s stubbornness to guzzle. The jostling of the truck didn’t help her struggle any.  They rode in silence for many miles, nothing but the squeaking and rattling of the truck ever voicing its opinion about the sorry state of the roads.

“I make it a point never to ask anyone where they’ve been. None of my business to remind you of that.  But I do need to know where you’re going.”

“Home.”

“I’m sure the folks will be glad to see you.”

“I hope.”

Soon they had agreed on a drop off point: Chara’s Crossing. He had already planned to take a route that would pass Chara’s.  She didn’t say where she was going only suggested Chara’s Crossing as a place they both knew.

They were less than a couple of hours from Plateaus’ Edge and the lift there. They drove the rest of that day and through the night before reaching the coastal plains that Arous knew to be home.  She could smell the faint salt and the strong sent of pine and cedar. As the sun began to rise and turn the sky above the treetops pink, Arous recognized her drop off point.

“There! Chara loves to sit on the porch in that rickety old rocking chair.”

The red ford came to a slow and deliberate stop.

“Here you are young lady.  It was my pleasure to serve you,” he said.

“Thank you.” Arous slammed the door.

“I would offer you some water to take but,” he paused. “Never have to drink much there do you? It permeates to your very soul.”

Arous mouth gaped speechless.

“Take care of yourself, young lady and give my regards to your father, the Diofe,” the Desperado said.

Arous began to walk away from the truck when she turned to ask his name.  The truck was already in gear and rumbling down the road as she looked through the rear window at him.  He stopped, turned to look back at her from the cab, smiled at her, put on his wide brimmed hat (which he had not donned for the entire trip) and drove away. He just drove off leaving Arous to wonder how he knew her name.

“Impossible,” she whispered. “The man without a face.”

ONE HUNDRED-THREE: Pilgrimage

ONE HUNDRED-THREE: Pilgrimage

It was a dusty day, hot in the never-ending summer of the desert.

Arous walked the long gravel and sand road that she knew would take her home.  Over each shoulder she strapped a water bag.  Each carried a half gallon of water, which she hoped she could ration enough to take her through the dessert until she could reach another water supply. Oh, how she wished she’d thought of digging Arcadia from the rubble; she would’ve had a shorter trip home.  

“If I could’ve fixed her, unshadowed her, which I doubt,” her voice cracked. “I hope this is the road to the hoveh lift at Plateau’s Edge, I hope this is the road . . .” she kept the prayer going on in her mind.

She kept her eyes ahead of her.  She watched as the heat made the road seem to disappear into a liquid haze far into the distance.  She heard the sound of her own feet hitting the gravel. She fought to keep her mind on what lay ahead and not on her thirst and grief.

“I hope Plateau’s Edge . . . ”

Her mind fought to recall how she had gotten to this place. But, dredging up such memories proved painful.  Her world imploded because of the choices she made and she wondered if ever she would be the better for it.

“I hope the road . . . ”

Arous had been on the road two days and she was hungry. She’d thought ahead to hide the water in the woods but left too fast to grab bread. In the distance she could see birds circling in the air. They climbed higher and higher, dropping then resuming their climb.  They circled around, around, down, up, up . . . Around, around, down . . .

She knew they circled something dead. A day old dead carcass roasted over an open dessert fire couldn’t be worse than the slop she’d been eating for the past month. With each step off the gravel road more and more sand got into her shoes.  Each footfall seemed to come harder and harder.  She glanced over her shoulder, not sure of what worried her. Her stomach kept pushing her forward.  She couldn’t turn back now, for she could almost see a shape ahead of her.  Several birds hovering around the shape; they flapped their wings and looked up waiting. 

She increased her pace since it beginning to get dark.  Shadows got longer and stranger as they crept across the sand.  Part of the sun had sunk below ground.

Amazement stopped her: before her was a rotted, half-eaten carcass.  She moved closer.  It was a human.  It was so grotesque that she couldn’t turn away.  The figure was twisted as if it had been flung down and landed on its stomach but the torso had twisted around. The naked body lay exposed except for a towel that covered its head. She stepped up and jerked the towel from the face.  The sandy-blond hair was instantly recognizable if the badge hadn’t identified him as Captain Hodges-Baire.

The hot wind turned.  The smell invaded her nostrils quicker than she could turn her head and faster than she could get her hand to her mouth. Her stomach did a flip and her head lurched.  Something at the back of her throat started fighting its way out.  She turned and ran back toward the road, but running felt like swimming as her legs fought against the sand.

She dropped.  Her knees hit the burning sand a split second before her hands.  She coughed, sputtered.  She heard the flapping of wings overhead as a dark shadow dropped beside her.  She turned her head to the right to find herself eye to eye with a large, black bird.  The smell overpowered her.

The warm wind whipped from behind her and across the baking carcass bringing the smell back to her, the memory of murder, a tsunami.  The bird made a hop, flap toward her.  It screeched beating its wings.  Another shadow dropped beside her.

Arous catapulted forward.

Less than a mile later Arous collapsed. She felt like a dead rotting carcass inside and out. Tears began to roll down her cheeks.  She couldn’t bear to cry, not now, but she had no control, powerless to stop the tears that refused to be held in any longer. As her heart broke the tears came faster, furious.  She could no longer see the road ahead. But further on, she could just make out the tall stretch of a cactus and the shade cast by it and a few bushes around it. It would protect her as she rested from the unrelenting mid-morning desert sun. She struggled to her feet.  Her entire body ached with the dire need for rest.

She reached the dwindling shade ahead of her and her body slumped into it.  She opened one of her half empty water bags and began to drink with a furious thirst.  Not a wind stirred, not a bird chirped and not rattle rattled as she settled into the small shade.  She curled into a ball so the shade of the bush covered her body.  The tears began to roll again as she looked out across the dessert.  Nothing but flat dessert, bushes, and cactus spread out across as far as she could see.  She looked despair dead in the face and began to cry hard. The reality of the barren landscape weighed down her heart.  She could no longer ignore the emptiness insider her as her surroundings paralleled all she felt.  She started her journey as a thief, stealing what the Diofe set out to give her. She had added murder to thievery on her pilgrimage. She looked at her hands.

She began to weep until she fell asleep.

ONE HUNDRED-TWO: Run

ONE HUNDRED-TWO: Run

She realized that she was trembling.  She knew she’d have to leave soon, maybe even without Jude, now it was imperative.

Arous sensed something in Jellina’s eyes.

“What’s going on?” asked Arous.

“Nothing.  Jude and I were having a little talk,” said Jellina.

That’s when she realized it. Arous felt sick to her stomach: Jellina had changed. She was Jellina on the outside. She talked like Jellina but her eyes were, different. Cold. Sparkly.  Arous was walking toward those eyes without even realizing it. She was closer than she wanted to be.

“I’m so glad to see you again,” said Jellina.

Both of the girls stared at each other.  Jellina squeezed her hand; Jellina’s hand was warm and moist. Jude stood there stunned.

“Look, sweet,” said Jellina. She’d never called Arous that. Arous wanted to throw-up but she could place it now. Jellina sounded like Ricci; he was her puppet master and she was just an empty shell.

“I’m going to leave you two alone.” Jellina reached out to hug Arous.  It was like hugging a dead body pulled from the warm Alippiana river, just not as bloated or mushy. Jellina walked away.  They both watched her walk away until she was gone.

“I have to leave,” said Arous.

“I know,” said Jude. “Give me just two more days to get ready. We’ll leave together.”

“No,” said Arous. “Right now.”

“You can’t,” he said.

“What?” said Arous.

“You can’t.  I almost have things worked out. For you and me.”

“I have to go home, Jude.  I can’t stay here.”

There was a moment of silence. Jude grabbed her hand. It was so warm that she wanted to melt there.

“You heard, didn’t you?”

Arous didn’t say anything. She was too scared to confess. The fact that she was afraid of Jude made it hard to breathe.

“I can’t explain,” Jude was pleading with her now. “I want to escape as much as you do.”

“I have to go. Now.”

“Wait. Just two days.”

“Ricci could be here in two days,” said Arous. “I can’t wait Jude.”

She wondered if he was waiting on something, or if he was just stalling for Ricci. She couldn’t believe it, not after everything. Would he choose Ricci over her?

“It’s just, a few details,” he said but wouldn’t look at her.

She let go of his hand and started to back away.

“No,” Arous was whispering now, choking out her own need to breathe. “Not you too?”

 “It’s not what you think,” said Jude, grabbing Arous’ arm.

“It’s not?” Arous was still backing away the full length while he had hold of her arm. 

“You can’t leave me. Not now,” he said.

“I have to go home,” she said.

“Please, Arous.” Jude’s grip tightened.  “We’ve been through so much.”

Jude. Was there any other way to say it? She stayed because there was a need, a need to be loved, a need to be held; she couldn’t go back without him. But now she wasn’t so sure that he wasn’t part of it all from the very beginning. If she asked would she have to tell him the whole truth about Siobhan, Ricci, and about Simon? Maybe he already knew.  Maybe he knew it all because he was the one who had made it all happen. The doubt had been planted by him, after all.

“Let me go Jude.”

She wrenched her wrist from his grasp.  He lunged for her, tripping, hitting the stable floor hard.  She began to back away from him.

“You don’t understand,” he sputtered.

“I want to go home” said Arous. “I want my Daddy.”

She felt a shimmering lightness radiate from her heart and electrify her whole body.

Arous.

It was his voice calling her.  She could hear him now.

Arous, sweet.

She’d know that voice anywhere.

“Daddy.”

Jude was getting up He made a move to grab her again.

She remember Edlawit.  They were playing in the yard.  Edlawit was teaching her to fight, teaching her to take her opponent down.  They were eight and nine.

“Kick him here,” she said, showing Arous on the straw dummy. “Where it counts. It will take him down.”

“Kick him, Arous.”

She kicked him at the pressure point just below the knee and he hit the ground. He yelled in pain.

“I’m sorry, Jude,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I-“

Run!

She darted from the stable to the edge of the forest, she could hear desperate cries of her name echoing through the trees, repeated by the leaves.  She didn’t look back.

            She ran chasing thoughts of home that she imagined was before her. The weeping willows, the oak lined drive; a man, a friend, Miguel, me, standing on the front porch with a vision of her and a dream and Spring full-on dancing through the fields.

ONE HUNDRED-ONE: Rebuilt

The next few days were very difficult for both Jude and Arous.  She went about her work slopping the pigs in the morning and laying around the hay in the old barn throughout the day. Burton wanted to pretend she wasn’t there so she avoided him. 

Then Jellina came. Arous was hoping to be happy to see her.

“Jude told me he was coming out here a couple of days before the earthquake. Don’t you think it is ironic that we are all here? Desinty maybe.”

“Jellina, you don’t believe in destiny,” Arous reminded her. She was not happy as she had hoped.

“No,” she smiled. “I said I don’t believe in Prince Charming.  Though Jude makes me want to change my mind.”

There was an exchange of awkward silence between the twosome as they stood in the middle of the horse stable.

 “Ricci told me you were leaving to go back home,” Jellina said. “He was heartbroken that you didn’t want to have anything to do with him. After all, he is your real father.”

Arous cringed.

“Just don’t tell him I’m here, okay?” said Arous.

“He’d help you. Make sure you have a nice cabin like I do before we get settled into new digs. You know, they are thinking about not even rebuilding the City there. That would be a shame.”

“Just don’t say anything,” said Arous. She didn’t want to sound like she was pleading.

“Okay. You know your secret is as safe with me. Probably safer than it is with Jude,” her face took a serious tone. “You know, this is not the place for you.”

 “It’s no place for you either.” She paused.”I was looking for my mother.”

“And, did you find her?” Jellina was mocking her now. Maybe she had been mocking her for the whole conversation.

“No,” Arous lied. “And I have absolutely nothing to show for it either, Jellina.”

“If you ask me, seems like a waste of a trip.”

“I think it must have been.”

“Where is it you’re from again?”

“Alippiana, the Bowl,” said Arous.

“That’s funny,” sdaid Jellina. “That’s where Ricci is talking about rebuilding the City. Alippiana. I knew I’d heard of it before.”

“What?”

“Your father is the Diofe, right? If that’s true.” asked Jellina.

“I don’t think I’m welcome back there,” Arous said. She couldn’t look Jellina in the eye anymore.

Something about Jellina seemed to soften.  But Arous didn’t trust it. Every action, every glance seemed to mock Arous.

 “They say, home is where you can go when you can’t stay anywhere else,” said Jellina. “I guess you’ll just have to join us, huh? That’d make Ricci happy.”

Jellina turned to leave.

“I’ll bring you something that will make you feel better,” said Jellina. “We’ve got to get you better.”

Jude caught Jellina as she was walking out of the stable.

 “Stay away from her,” said Jude.

 “Why?”

“I don’t know what you’re up to.”

“I have a job to do,” said Jellina.

“She doesn’t want him to know she’s here,” said Jude.

“Too late.”

 “You’re walking a thin line,” he said.

“Don’t threaten me.”

They stared each other down for a minute.

“You know what I think?” said Jellina pouring on the charm again.

“I don’t care what you think,” he said.

“I think you’re scared,” she said.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it really, Jude?”

“I can do whatever I want. Burton needs me. So does Ricci,” said Jude.

“Who really needs who, Jude? Does Arous need you? What does she know about you and Ricci? You’re little deal. Does she know how talented you are?” She laughed. “I had to die for my power, literally, but all you had to do is be born.”

“You wouldn’t,” said Jude.

“The man you are always struggles with the man you want to be and can’t.  Or, maybe it’s the man you are who tries to break free to be the man you think you can be. You might want Arous, but what you are is Ricci’s,” said Jellina. “Especially after that last botched job.”

“I didn’t botch it,” growled Jude.

“Oh, that’s right, you let her go on purpose. You’re crazy to be walking the line with a man like Ricci. And when Arous finds out what you’re last job was, she’ll hate you for it.”

Jude slapped Jellina.

 “Jude!” Arous yelled from the end of the stable.

The private conversation stopped.

“Arous,” asked Jude. He hadn’t seen her walk up on them.

Arous had heard it all. She didn’t know whether to play dumb or whether to tell him she had heard it all.  She couldn’t trust Jude. She couldn’t trust Jellina. They both worked for the man that made her more afraid than anyone in the world.

“I have to go,” Arous said holding Jude’s gaze, questioning him, forgiving him, apologizing.

            She was distracted from Jude for a moment by Jellina who she was able to see in the sunlight for the very first time since the earthquake.

            Jellina. Jellina.  What’s wrong with Jellina?

ONE-HUNDRED: Forgetting

“I was on my way back from the desert when the rumbling started,” Jude continued his story to Arous. “The hoveh-sine trembled and flipped a couple of times.  It was wrecked but I managed to get out.  I thought the tumble had made me unsteady on my feet but it was the ground moving under them.”

Then he saw the ground start to move, small undulations at first, then like big waves on the ocean they came one after another: rolling, rolling. The trees in the distance swayed and followed the earth in which they were rooted.  They followed one another up and down swaying with no wind.  The rumble grew.  In the distance Jude could hear loud thunderous crashes and another strange noise he could not identify.  He crawled out a bit on the sea of earth to get a look around the trees moving beside him that blocked his view of the City.  He saw the old buildings of downtown swaying like trees; one by one he saw them implode and sink or either lean and then topple to the ground. Dust rose in heavy clouds over where they had been, like signals to the distance of their distress.  The odd sounds coming from the buildings grew louder and louder.

“Screaming . . . it’s the sound of people . . . that was the sound . . . wailing . . . “

Confused and a bit shocked from such an abrupt awakening, he first considered how to get back into the City.  He looked around.  He could walk through the main entrance and through the high part of town.  Instead, he just stood in shock as the night enveloped the crumbing City.  He watch fires pop up as buildings continued to crumble and shift.

“How did you get here?” asked Arous.

“Funny enough, this guy in an old wheeled vehicle pulled up behind me.  He stood by me for a moment and watched the City on fire.  He asked me if I need a lift.  Told him where I was going and he said-”

“Sounds like you’re going my way.  I’ll give you a lift.”

“At that point I refused to think about what happened to anyone else.  Simon. You. I just shut everything off and kept going.”

“You couldn’t have done anything,” said Arous.

“Until I saw you, I hadn’t even remembered. Things seemed to have gone so wrong, maybe I didn’t want to remember.”

Jude buried his head in Arous’ lap.  He sobbed and then fell asleep.

NINETY-NINE: How hard could it be?

Jude began his story just hours before the catastrophe.  He had decided to leave to come to Burton’s the next week and told Simon that day.

“What do you mean?  Why are you really leaving?” asked Simon.

“It’s like I already said.”

“But aren’t you supposed to -” asked Simon.

“I know what I ought to do but I haven’t promised Ricci anything. I got his permission to go to Burton’s ranch. Okay. I need some time,” said Jude.

“I can’t believe this you’re telling me this, and then leaving. Are you going to tell her before you walk out?” said Simon.

Simon stared at Jude in disbelief and simmering rage.

“You yell at me for lying to her and you’re just going to leave,” said Simon. “What a dashing Prince Charming you’ve turned out to be.”

“Let’s not lie to each other, anymore,” said Jude. “I know you’re only pretending not to like her. I know what Ricci has told you to do to keep me on his payroll.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Simon.

“You know what’s pitiful, Simon, is do you even know how you feel about her?” said Jude.

Simon opened his mouth and shut it. He looked dead at Jude.

“I sometimes think it’s a spell Ricci has me under,” he whispered. “I have to do what he says, it’s like a compulsion.  I can’t stay away from her.  But I have to lie to her to obey Ricci.”

“I know,” said Jude putting a hand on his shoulder. “Ricci can have that effect on people.”

Jude continued to pack his back. Simon stood there shifting from foot to foot.

“Jude,” said Simon. His voice trembled. “I really need you to stay.”

“No you don’t.  You and Arous will live happily ever after without me.”

“No, Jude, you don’t understand,” said Simon. “I need you to stay to keep her safe.”

“You’re more than capable of doing that yourself,” said Jude.

“No, you don’t understand,” Simon grabbed onto Jude’s arm. “I don’t know what Ricci is going to ask me to do.  I can’t tell him know. You may be the only person who stands between me and -”

“Whoah,” said Jude sitting Simon down. “She’s his daughter.  He’s got plans for her.  He’s not going to hurt her.”

Jude pulled Simon to him and embraced him.

“Try to relax.  Ricci has big plans for Arous and he thinks she’s weak enough to fall for them.  Including falling for you.”

Jude laughed and Simon relaxed.

“We’ve all been part of his scheming,” said Jude.  “You know, I never was good at doing what I was told. I can’t hang around here being manipulated by Ricci. If I stay any longer, I might get us all killed.”

They leaned back on the couch with their arms around one another for a moment of silence. Jude got up and grabbed his back-pack off the table.

“I’ve got one last job for Ricci.  That was the deal. One last job.”

“What is it?” asked Simon.

“All I know is that it doesn’t involve Arous.  How hard could it be?”

NINETY-EIGHT: Graceful Sleep

NINETY-EIGHT: Graceful Sleep

“I got to send Ricci a V-dot. She’s out of here,” Burton stopped. “How long you been hiding her here?”

“She’s been here a couple of weeks. I haven’t been hiding her.”

“How come I haven’t seen her?”

“You have. She’s been around. You’ve talked to her.”

“Nonesense.  I would’ve recognized her.  I mean, she looks rough but no one can over look that skin.”

The moon was in full glow now.

“Maybe not during the day,” said Jude.  He also wondered if she’d been skin dancing but didn’t dare mention it. He was concerned that he hadn’t seen her before now.  He had pretty much kept to the horse and hadn’t ventured out until that morning when he decided to walk around the farm for the first time since he’d gotten there two weeks ago.

“How long you say she’s been here?”

“A couple of weeks.”

“Weeks!” he was beginning to panic. “I have not seen her until just now.  I’ll swear by it.”

“You had her slopping the pigs,” Jude was calm.

“I did no such thing!”

“Yes, you did,” said Jude. “Now, I think that’s something Ricci would like to know.”

“You wouldn’t. After all I’ve done for you.”

Jude was silent for a moment.

“You should remember, I work for Ricci, let me handle him. And the meantime, don’t send off any V-dots to Ricci.”

“It may not matter who’s nephew, son or whatever you are. And it may not matter that you’re Ricci’s spoiled little pet. If he doesn’t know she’s here -”

He looked around with a suspicious eye before continuing.

 “Do you think I was at that corner store every day by choice?” he smiled. “I’d rather be here than that stinking city. You’re not the only one who knows him. Ricci and I go way back.”

He stood looking at Arous again then turned to Jude.

“I’m not doing you any favors,” he said, then. “Ladoiselle Jellina will be here tomorrow.”

“What’s she coming out here for?” Jude seemed startled.

“What do I know? Heard that Ricci wasn’t too happy with you when you left,” then he smiled leaning into Jude. “Maybe Ricci already knows your girlfriend’s here.”

He turned to go, grumbling as he went. “Too bad she wasn’t killed in the earthquake. Fact, she’s Lunese? They don’t make the Graceful Sleep Laws for nothing.  Those laws should have been enforced when they first found her mother and none of this would’ve happened.  Though, she was a stunning woman.” Burton paused. Then his voice turned cold. “I heard the Mercy League went in there after the earthquake and helped out a bunch of the injured. They must not’ve found her. ”

The ensuing silence pulled Arous up to a sitting position.  The door cracked.

“Arous, are you awake?”

“The Mercy League?” Arous asked. “Aren’t the responsible for the Graceful Sleep laws?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll all work out. I know,” said Arous.

“Jellina’s coming tomorrow.”

“Ricci and I . . .  we didn’t end on the best of terms,” said Arous.

“Neither did we,” said Jude. “Look.  Just stay here for the rest of today.  It’s about to storm and Burton won’t come back out here in the rain,” he smiled.  “It’s almost four. You slept all day.  You must have been -”

“Tired.  Yes, I was.”

She fell down on her back, the hay rustling under her body as it hit the floor.  Jude walked over and began to talk to her about his last day in the City.

NINETY-SEVEN: Hide

NINETY-SEVEN: Hide

 “Arous?” Jude asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “I didn’t recognize you . . . are you ok?”

“It’s this outfit, it makes me look fat doesn’t it?”

He laughed.  “You’ve looked better.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Arous said.

“Burton is a friend of my father.  He owned all the corner stores in town. I work the stables here like I did back home with my grandfather. I was already here when -” he turned white. “How long have you been here?”

“A week or two. I don’t know. I wandered awhile north before I got here, maybe a week. It’s all running together. I can’t even remember who I am,” she said and looked up at him. “I’ve been sleeping in that nasty barn. What’s happened, Jude?”

“I don’t know.” His sentence faded into an awkward silence. “There is an empty stall in the horse stables. It is much warmer there and much cleaner. Let me help you.”

Jude led her into the horse stable. He showed her to a large bath where she could get cleaned up as he went about getting the birthing stall ready.  She reappeared for a long bath and he looked at her dumbfounded before smiling.  Before her skin was an ashy grey now she shone luminescent.

“That was a good disguise you had going,” he said. “You look like you could use some rest.  I’ll bring you something to eat later. I have to get back to work.”

“What about, Burton?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him. Work something out. You rest.”

“No, don’t tell him I’m here. Ricci can’t find me here.”

“Okay,” he said.

Jude threw some extra hay in the corner of the birthing stall and grabbed a clean blanket off the shelf outside.  As soon as she’d lain down, Jude threw the blanket on top of her and kneeling down he kissed her on the forehead.  He walked out shutting the stall door behind him.  As she snuggled into the warm, sweet hay, she could smell the spicy aroma of wood burning in the potbellied stove at the other end of the stable.  She pulled the blanket tighter till all she could just catch a whiff of the warm horses and hay.  She drifted off to sleep with Jude’s name on her lips.

Out of a stale dream Arous could distinguish two voices: a large, scratchy one and a strong, tenor.  She could not distinguish any words but knew their proximity to the stall. She rolled her head in the dry hay and tried to sink further down, to hide.  The rain had stopped.  As she got closer to the dawn of waking she identified the voices of Jude and Burton.

“Who is she?”

Jude was silent.

“You don’t know?” Burton asked.

“I would rather not say.”

“Then she must be in some kind of trouble,” Burton said. “She looks familiar. Where’ve I seen her before?”

Arous felt someone standing in the door way, a shadow fell across her.  She heard Burton gasp.

“She’s the daughter of that Lunese woman isn’t she?”

Jude didn’t respond.

“I’ll V-dot Ricci, let him know she’s here,” said Burton.”

NINETY-SIX: Tea time

What’s stunning about this whole thing is that everything that Arous ever wanted to know about her mother, the Diofe had told her.  The thing that was missing was the what-could’ve-been that wasn’t.  That’s why Arous had to find her mother.  She thought then that she would know what-could’ve-been.  But you can never know that.

As Aclarid, I can see what is churning in that mind, in that spirit of his, if he lets me in. But I don’t have to know to obey. Her departure hurt him yet I know it has not changed him. In all my years, my existence, I have never seen one shade of change in him. I know that Diofe does not, cannot be other than what he is.  Oh, he’s done the unexpected but it surprised me because I didn’t know him, not because he evolved. The Diofe doesn’t advance or change: he changes us. He grows us up.

One Spring twelve years earlier sticks in my mind.

It was a warm afternoon in late spring. I was walking past the playroom when I heard voices: a child’s voice and a woman’s voice. It was the woman’s voice that stopped me because it sounded familiar but I could not place it.  The door was cracked so I looked in to appease my curiosity.

“One for you, and one for me.”

It was Arous.

“I will pour your tea, mommy.  How many lumps of sugar would you like?”

“I’ll take three please,” I heard the woman respond.

“Me, too,” said Arous delighted.

I leaned in a little closer to see Arous at the table. She had just finished pouring the tea for the seat across from her and now was pouring tea into the dainty cup in front of her.  The seat across from her was empty.

“Like mother, like daughter,” said the woman’s voice again.

However, this time, I saw that it was Arous speaking for herself and her imaginary . . . mother. The Diofe walked up behind me.

“Diofe, Arous is going to grow into quite Skin-Dancer.  She sounds just like a twenty-something woman. Listen. She’s having tea with her mother.”

The Diofe leaned into the door, touching it with his hand. The door swung open making the tiniest creak. Arous looked around and up, smiling at the Diofe standing in the door.

“Don’t let me interrupt sweetie.”

Her smiled glowed and she turned back around.

“Arous, darling, this is the loveliest tea in the world. You steeped it perfectly. Earl Grey is my favorite,” Arous said her in mommy’s voice.

“Thank you, mommy. It’s mine, too.”

“Arous, why don’t you have the Diofe join us,” said mommy voice.

“Why certainly,” she turned around, “Daddy, come play with me. I’m having tea with Mommy.”

The Diofe glided into the room. He was always the same in essence and he was always the same in appearance, sort of. Sometimes you might notice one of the attributes more than another.  These personalities always floated over each other.  Sometimes, people saw what they wanted to see, sometimes what they needed to see or, like most of the time, what they could see. Those who could see him for what he was in the beginning outside the first glance of man, saw him in his pure form. That form was tall with skin of hot melted bronze and long white hair and fire for eyes. I saw him this way mostly; it kept me in check. But, now, as he floated into the room I saw him as Arous saw him, skin deepening to the color of comforting and soothing night. His youth shone, his eyes sparkled black and his mouth softened. His hair fell in long braids down his back with soft, curly whips framing his face. He softened all over, he embodied nurture, patience, warmth: he was mother.

“Arous,” he called to her in a deep, rich, voice of a mother, “I am sorry that your mother can’t really be here.  How do you feel about that?”

“I miss her.”

“Yes, you do,” he said.

“I don’t even know her.”

“I know. I wish you could know her.”

“I want to more than anything daddy, more than anything,” said Arous.

There was silence for a few minutes. Tears welled up in Arous’ eyes. The Diofe waited patiently for the next question that he knew was coming.

“Will I ever see my mommy?”

“I’m sorry but I can’t answer that, sweetheart.”

“But you know everything daddy. You are Diofe.”

“That’s true.”

She looked at him. The Diofe smiled.

“Would you like some tea, daddy?” she asked.

“Yes, that would be lovely.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweet?”

“Will you tell me about my mommy?”

“Of course I will, my sweet Arous.”