The Rapha and the Firefly, page 13
“So, is Adam alive still?”
He nodded. “He’ll be alive forever. So will Eve and their children, and all the followers of Elyon. Cain’s family isn’t there because they chose to turn their backs on Elyon and His Son.”
“What’s it like? The place where Elyon is – what’s it like there?”
The young hopper thought for a minute, trying to pull together everything he had ever heard and read about it. “It’s peace.”
Ariel frowned. That wasn’t much to go on.
“Are people hungry there?” she wondered, thinking of her colony.
“No.”
“Do children die?”
“Never.”
“Do people hurt each other? Do they fight?”
He shook his head.
“Does anyone ever…?” she began, but Basil just continued to shake his head. He grinned.
She sat silent and thought about that.
“Is my mom there?” she quietly asked.
Basil sat silent also.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “Keeper knew your mom. He might know.”
Asking Keeper was the last thing Ariel wanted to do.
“Is this just a story?” she demanded to know.
He seemed a little offended that she even suggested such a thing. “No.”
She thought about it a minute more and slowly nodded. “Ok. So, when is Josiah supposed to be here?”
The sudden shift in interest hurt Basil at first, but he suddenly realized it was a tactic he’d seen Ariel use a lot. Usually when the discussion got deep.
She’s needing to process this, he summarized. Shifting the topic was her way of stepping back so she could sort things out for herself.
“He should be here any minute,” he replied. “You can wait outside if you want to.”
She nodded, stood up and went out into the entry hall.
She’s needing to process this, Basil repeated to himself, and he couldn’t help grinning. You go, Ariel!
20
Grandma
Ariel heard Josiah calling out the open front door. He was straddling a meadowlark and knew if he dismounted, the bird would be off in an instant and he’d have to call down another one.
The girl sighed at the sight, remembering that she had a week with a new teacher in front of her. She allowed her resentment to return. Climbing aboard, the princess sat on the meadowlark behind the boy and tried not to enjoy the breeze billowing her hair.
“So, what does Grandma Love do?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Sage heals old people, Rosemary heals little kids, Thyme gets people walking again and Dill cuts them apart. Does Grandma heal bunny rabbits?”
Josiah looked back over his shoulder, shooting her an incredulous stare.
“No,” he told her. “Grandma’s not a healer.”
Ariel suddenly remembered Grandma had said that before, and her face turned red.
“Oh. Then, what does she do?”
“She cooks, sews, plays the organ and tells stories.”
“I already know how to cook.”
“Right,” Josiah scoffed. “Dill told everyone about your exploding cake.”
Ariel ignored the remark. “I know how to sew to,” she told him.
The boy looked over his shoulder and pointedly stared at the princess’ clothes. It was a “flyer summer outfit”: a stained and filthy scrap from a human’s handkerchief, with a hole for her head and wings, roughly cut with the aid of a dull discarded razor blade. A bit of broken shoelace served as a sash to hold it closed around her. She had shed her hot primitive “boots” for the summer and instead was shoed in dirt and mud.
“Lovely fashion statement,” the boy remarked.
“Oh, what do you know?” she grumbled. The girl spread her wings and launched herself off the meadowlark, preferring to travel under her own power rather than have to listen to a child’s comments.
A moment more and they were coming in for a landing beside a small bluff overlooking the river. Ariel looked around carefully and, as to be expected, a door was hidden there in the shadows of a hole near the base of the tree.
She turned and glared at her escort.
“So, are you to make sure I actually go in, or were you only talked into getting me here?”
Josiah grinned good-naturedly at her. “See you later, Ariel. I gotta get to school.” And, with a click of his tongue, the meadowlark took to the air and was gone. The princess turned and went inside.
At the second door, she remembered her manners and knocked. Even if Basil isn’t here, he can be proud of me. She told herself. She heard squealing inside. ““She’s here! She’s here!” a young voice announced, and then the door was opened by little Hope.
“Good morning, Princess Ariel!” the child beamed, as Grace ran to the door to also greet the flyer. “Won’t you come in?”
Ariel stepped through the doorway and looked around the domicile.
Grandma Love’s main room was larger than Basil’s or Dill’s, and it had a different “feel” to it. There were lace curtains in the windows, a pink throw rug on the floor, and flowers in vases not only on the dining table, but on the side tables, the mantle…just about every available surface. Her bookshelves held fewer books, but had clay and glass figurines, tiny paintings and pencil drawings in little frames. There were pillows on the chairs, unlike Basil’s hardwood seats, and the furniture was not as shabby and abused looking as Dill’s. Her work room - like Rosie’s- was a sewing room, and in the corner of the main room were two strange contraptions Ariel had never seen before. She walked over to have a better look.
The smaller object was almost as tall as she, and seemed to be a beautifully carved wooden triangle, standing on one point, with a large hollow area in the middle. Up and down the middle dozens of strings had been strung. Ariel tentatively reached out and touched one. It vibrated in a beautiful tone. She strummed another string. It also vibrated, but in a different tone. She allowed her hand to run over the strings, from one end of the triangle to the other. All the strings sang out their individual songs, one behind the other. This is what a waterfall would sound like if it made music! She thought, and couldn’t help laughing. It was such a beautiful sound!
“So, you like my harp, do you?” Grandma asked, smiling behind her.
“You make music on this?” the princess asked.
“Yes.”
Ariel turned and looked at the other object. It was a tall box with pipes coming out the top. There was a “tray” attached to the front, with black and white sticks attached. A small bench sat before the box, and down on the floor, between the bench and the box, were small twin platforms. Your feet go there for some reason, the flyer figured out.
“Does this make music too?” she asked.
“Yes, but you have to push the billows to get any sound out,” Hope told her.
“The billows?”
“Yeah. Down there, you push them with your feet, like walking, only you’re sitting down. That makes the sound come out.”
“Can I try?” the princess asked. Grandma nodded, so the princess sat down, put her feet on the billows and pushed down, one foot than the other. She was disappointed.
“There’s no sound coming out,” she stated.
Grandma chuckled. “You have to press the keys to make the sounds.”
“The keys?” but Ariel didn’t want them to show her: she wanted to discover them for herself. She felt around, pushing different areas of the box, the pipes, the “tray” edge...
“No! There!” Grace laughed, pointing, but Grandma shushed her and pushed down the pointing arm.
“Let Ariel find them.”
A few seconds later, Ariel found the keys and was rewarded with a haunting whistle from one of the pipes. She tried another key to hear a different tone. She pushed various keys, up and down the keyboard, listening to the variety of whistles. It was wonderful!
“What is this called?” she asked.
“That’s a pump organ. My grandfather got it for my grandmother many years ago. The story is that he had to swap a year’s worth of corn for it.”
The princess marveled. “It sounds wonderful.”
Grandma laughed. “Organs are so rare, it’s kept in immaculate shape. Who knows when there will ever be another one like it in the valley? This is the only one most elves here have even seen.”
Ariel was impressed. This was indeed a special item.
“They talked Grandma into putting it in the assembly hall about five years ago.” Hope reported. “But the little kids wouldn’t leave it alone. It was an accident, but my brother Adam broke the billows by forcing them down too fast.”
“It took Keeper and Sage a month to fix them.” Grace continued the story. “They had to go all the way to Wichita for replacement parts! After that, everyone said it would be safer just to leave it here. But every month, Grandma holds a sing-a-long.”
“Oh.” Ariel had no idea what a sing-a-long was, but if it involved music, she was sure it must be wonderful.
“Will you play something for me? “she begged her host.
“Of course.” Grandma smiled and slid onto the seat beside the flyer. “Anything in particular you want to hear?’
“’Twinkle, Twinkle’?” she tentatively requested, remembering Dill had played it for the Weaver children. It was one of the few songs she knew by name, and she hoped Grandma knew it too.
The lady complied and Ariel marveled how different the song sounded on the different instruments. Grandma then followed the tune up with one of her favorites: “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” by some human named Bach, and Ariel could almost feel the music coursing through her veins, making her feel as if she were flying while sitting still. The song ended and the music died away, yet still seemed to flow through her heart and lifted it within her chest.
“Did you like it?” Grandma asked.
Ariel thought hard, trying to think of an appropriate comparison.
“Like Basil’s cooking.” she finally said grinning from ear to ear.
The little girls laughed, but Grandma smiled.
“That’s quite a compliment.” she remarked understandingly. “Thank you.”
“More! More!” the little girls demanded.
“No! No!” Grandma chimed back. “You came over to see Ariel arrive, now get to school! I’ll see you for lunch.
“Aw!” the little girls pouted, but Grandma turned her attention from them, back to the princess. “Ariel, Rosemary sent the shirt over that you made. Would you like to do some stitches on it?”
Ariel didn’t have the slightest idea what the older lady was talking about. Hope and Grace, instead of heading to school, snatched up their needlework to show.
“See?” Grace put her work in the princess’ hands. “I’m doing a blue jay on an apron for my mom. It’s for her birthday next month.”
“And look at my flowers!” Little Hope demanded. “There’s a rose and a bluebell and a lily.”
Ariel fingered the beautiful needlework, marveling at the perfectly lined stitches and the vibrancy of the designs. “Wow!” she breathed. “You did these?” she stared at the little girls.
“They’re not as good as Grandma and Rosie can do,” Hope admitted meekly, “But they’re teaching us.”
“So how about it, Ariel?” Grace hopped up and down in excitement. “What are you going to put on Basil’s shirt?”
“You’ll find out when you come back for lunch!” Grandma scowled at them. “Now, scat! You’re already going to be late. Run!”
The little girls huffed, but they grabbed up their packs and ran out the door, calling out farewells over their shoulders. That left the princess all alone with Grandma.
“So, would you like to try some cross stitching?” the elder lady asked the young flyer.
Ariel stared at the beautiful designs the children had stitched and her heart fell. There was no way she could ever make something this lovely. She hadn’t the faintest clue how to even begin.
“How about if we start with something easy?” Grandma kindly suggested. “How about a cross-stitched ‘B’?”
The princess was bewildered. “A bumble bee?” she queried.
The old lady smiled. “No, no! A letter ‘B’. For ‘Basil’.”
“Oh.”
That made sense. And when grandma showed her the pattern, and how to make the tiny ‘x’s that formed each stitch, it really was pretty simple. The princess was able to stitch an acceptable ‘B’ over the breast pocket before lunch. Rosie and the little girls came in at that time, looked the shirt over and were very pleased.
“You could stitch a wreath of ivy around it!” Hope suggested. “That would make it look very grand!”
“Oh, that would be pretty!” Grace agreed.
“But there’s no time today,” Grandma snatched up the shirt and hurried it into her bedroom. “The boys are coming over for lunch,” she explained as she came back out. “We wouldn’t want Basil to see it before it’s done.” Ariel agreed to keep it a secret, but it was hard not to tell when the blonde hopper arrived with Dill. She did tell Tanner about the shirt later when she was alone with him in his shop. The old man promised not to breath a word of their secret to anyone.
Ariel finished the ivy wreath the next morning, but when the little girls arrived for lunch, more suggestions were made. Leaves were added on the cuffs and on the collar. The project wasn’t completed until late on Friday morning. Rosie and the little girls where there to inspect the finished garment and give their approval. Then Grandma took the shirt and wrapped it up in a recycled scrap of blue tissue before stashing it in her bedroom closet for safe keeping. As it was being wrapped, the little girls tried to explain birthdays to the princess.
“There’ll be a cake with candles on it,” Grace told.
“And the person makes a wish and blows them all out,” Hope finished.
“Why?” the flyer asked.
“So, your wish will come true.”
“It does?”
“Well, sometimes, but everyone pretends it will and claps.”
Grandma and Rosie exchanged looks and tried not to laugh as the explanation continued.
“And there will be ice cream,” Hope assured her.
“And presents! Lots of presents!”
“Why?” Ariel asked again.
“’Cause, that’s the RULES!” the little girls stared at Ariel, unable to believe someone didn’t know the rules about birthdays.
“I don’t think Ariel’s ever been to a birthday party,” Grandma explained to the children.
The girls stared even harder.
“But anyway, Ariel,” Rosie stepped in, ignoring the little girls. “Basil’s birthday will be in a few months, and you’ll have something special you can give him.”
“Why don’t I just give it to him today?”
“But, you worked very hard on this;” Rosie urged. “It’s something very special! Don’t you want to wait for a special day? This birthday will be Basil’s twenty-first.”
“So?”
“So, the twenty-first birthday is a very special one for the plains-keepers. It’s when a person is fully recognized as a grown-up.”
Ariel’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Basil’s not a grown-up? People in my tribe are grownups at 16! They get married then!”
“Really?” Hope and Grace were awed. “Most people here still live with their moms and dads at that age.”
“Well, for us, at 16 you move away from your parents and to a different area of the barn.”
There was a long moment of silence and then Hope and Grace burst out laughing.
“’To a different area of the barn’?” Grace scoffed. “That’s in the same place! Here, by 21 you’re expected to be in a different area of the valley!”
Ariel’s ears turned red. It really did sound silly hearing it put that way. But, her people lived together, often family’s slept elbow to elbow with their neighbors – especially in the winter because everyone kept warmer that way.
Grandma chided the girls.
“Ariel’s world is a lot different from ours.” she reminded them. “Everyone lives in the same barn: for protection. They don’t have doors and windows there to keep out the cold, snakes and feral cats.”
“Oh. Sorry, Ariel.”
The princess was thankful Grandma had put that straight, but the conversation got her thinking.
“That means Basil’s 20. He’s 5 years older than me.”
Rosie nodded. “That’s right.”
“So, how come he isn’t married yet?”
Rosie shrugged. “Some men aren’t in a rush to settle down. Look at Dill: he’s 22 and not even engaged: though I pity the poor girl he finally settles down with. Thyme is 25 and not dating anyone steady either. But we don’t rush into marriage around here. I was 23 when Sage and I got married. It’s not unusual to wait.”
Ariel considered and turned to Grandma. “So how come you’re not married?”
Grandma gave a sad smile. “I was,” she nodded toward a drawing on the mantle. “Married 28 years. Eli died five years ago.”
“Eli?”
“Short for Elijah.”
Ariel went over to the mantle drawing, carefully preserved in a wooden frame behind a thin sheet of glass, and studied it. It was a sketch of five men, smiling as if they were all the best of friends. There was Tanner: a much younger sprite, but it was impossible to mistake his kind face. Keeper was also depicted, also younger and without his scar and also, the princess noted, with no antenna. Ariel studied his picture carefully and decided Keeper could actually have passed as handsome when he was younger. How old was he in the picture? Mid-twenties? Maybe thirty?
There were three others Ariel didn’t recognize: a gilled nymph, a gnome and a pointed-eared hopper. While the nymph and hopper both seemed to be young men, the gnome appeared to be Grandma’s current age – late forty’s or so. Ariel frowned and considered Keeper and Tanner’s images. If the picture had been drawn when everyone else was much younger, the gnome must have been a lot older than Grandma was.
“How old was your husband when he died?” Ariel asked.
