The Rapha and the Firefly, page 4
Rosie’s first stop was at a tree sprite home high up in an old oak. Family of six: dad, mom, older sister, two brothers and a feverish baby. Rosie took the baby in her arms and cooed as she examined the little patient. She questioned the parents and they hovered over her, concerned and caring. The siblings stood together in a corner staring at Ariel. The youngest looked to be about six but this family were tree sprites: the largest of the community elves. The little lad was already so big he came up to the Flyer’s shoulder.
“Are you a flyer?” he tentatively asked.
“Of course, I’m a flyer!” she snapped at him. “What do you think I look like – a bull frog?”
The children’s eyes grew wide and little brother’s filled with tears. His older sister put a comforting arm around him and put herself between her brother and the offensive flyer. She glared down at Ariel who was slightly shorter than she was. Ariel glared back. Rosie and the parents could not help overhearing the exchange. The adult sprites were too shocked to respond. Rosie turned red; first with embarrassment and then with indignation.
“Excuse us a moment.” She quickly put the baby back in its mother’s hands, grabbed Ariel by the arm, and dragged the girl out the door.
Out of earshot of the family, the gnome spun around and verbally lashed out at Ariel.
“I don’t know what your problem is, Missy,” she hissed, “but you better get over it quick! I couldn’t care less if you’re mad at Basil; you want to be mad at me – Fine! I don’t care! Yell at me all you want while we’re in the air between calls, but by Jove, if you think I’m going to stand there and listen to you taking out your anger on innocent children then you’ve got another thing coming!
“So, you make up your mind right now: either you start showing some decency and respect to people or you can just turn around and go home right this instant!”
And she stood there, hands on her hips, nostrils flaring, glaring at the girl in such a way that Ariel felt she was shriveling under her look.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper.
“Then you get in there and apologize to those kids,” Rosie barked. “And then you’re going to find yourself a chair, plant your tush in it and not say another word until we leave!”
So said, she dragged Ariel back down into the domicile, stood her in front of the children, and waited.
“I’m sorry,” Ariel meekly apologized. She quickly sat in a chair, folded her hands on her lap, and tried to become invisible. Satisfied, Rosie went back to her examination of the infant.
The children stared at the flyer, unsure what to make of this change in attitude.
Finally, the youngest ventured to talk to the flyer again.
“Wanna see my riding mouse?” he asked.
Not really, the girl thought bitterly. But she remembered Rosie’s warning. The flyer cast a quick look over at the gnome who was busy with the baby. Ariel gave a little nod. A huge grin broke out on the child’s face, and he ran off to his bedroom. In an instant he was back dragging a beautiful wooden rocking toy, carved in the shape of a mouse.
“Daddy made it for me!” he informed her proudly. “For my birthday. I’m six!”
The intricacy of the object caught Ariel off guard, and she couldn’t help admiring it. “It’s pretty, “she breathed as she ran her hand over the silky-smooth head.
“He made me a buffalo last year,” the older boy volunteered. “Would you like to see it?”
“Sure.” The flyer quickly looked over at Rosie to see if she’d heard her. She remembered too late that she wasn’t supposed to talk, but the gnome was still busy with the baby and parents.
The toy buffalo was quickly presented. It was nearly as long as Ariel’s forearm, and also beautifully carved. She couldn’t help breathing an “oooh” of admiration.
“Momma makes things, too.” The girl wasn’t going to let her maternal parent be overlooked. She ran and got a rag doll off her bed and handed it over to their guest. Ariel gaped in surprise. The doll had wings!
“It’s a flying fairy,” the girl explained. “I guess that’s kind of like you.”
Ariel couldn’t help staring at the doll. It was very beautiful with golden yarn hair, an embroidered green gown and dainty leather boots. The wings were made of silk stretched over a thin wire frame.
“Momma says fairies are magic and grant wishes,” the girl was saying. “Do you know magic?”
“No,” Ariel had to admit. “But I can make fire and I’m learning to cook and read. Where I come from, that would be magic.”
“Really?” the older boy asked.
Ariel nodded.
“What’s it like being a flyer?” asked the daughter.
“Well, we don’t have dolls and toys for one thing. And nobody knows how to carve.”
The children “ooohed” at this information and begged for more. So, Ariel told them about the hunters, their clothing made of skins and scraps humans throw away, and the big drafty barn her colony shared.
“And no one ever takes a bath,” she added. The boys liked that part.
“We have a medicine man,” she continued, “but he doesn’t know about shots and casts like your Rapha do. They just say chants and rub smelly plants on your cuts. Here, your Rapha actually know how to fix you up when you’re sick or hurt. And they’re really nice people too.” Ariel cast a quick glance at Rosie and was startled to see that the gnome and the older sprites were watching them and listening. Embarrassed, the princess quickly dropped her eyes and fell quiet.
The mother stepped forward.
“Have you had breakfast yet, Miss Ariel?” she asked. “I made some strawberry muffins, if you’re hungry.”
Ariel nodded meekly. She was hungry, but after the way she treated them, she didn’t feel she deserve anything. The mother gave her a paper package anyway.
“Rosie says you have a busy schedule today, but you can eat these on the way. Share them with Rosie.”
The flyer nodded. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She followed the gnome out the door. Once they were airborne again, Ariel opened the package. Inside were four strawberry muffins, just minutes from the oven. Steam curled up from their brown tops, sending their delicious fragrance out and tantalizing Ariel’s nose. She took out two muffins and handed one to the gnome who sat in front of her. A thank you. Ariel apologized for her earlier behavior.
“We all have bad days,” Rosie shrugged. “Eat your muffin. They’re best while they’re still hot.” Ariel took a bite. Delicious! The girl decided being with Rosie wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
The day was a lot better after that. She watched as Rosie bandaged scrapes and looked down sore throats. She even handed out cookies Rosie had packed for the poorest children. And the gnome had her own version of Basil’s bear Oliver: it was a blue bunny named Olivia that was resting in the arms of a young gnome girl with strep throat.
“Is Bethany any better today, Olivia?” Rosie asked the cloth doll.
The rabbit leaned close and whispered words only Rosie could hear.
“Is that right?” the Rapha asked. “103 degrees?”
Olivia nodded.
Rosie frowned.
“Olivia,” she chastised, “You’re not doing your job!”
The rabbit hung her head.
“Now, I’m going to give Bethany another dose of this medicine today and then you better watch over her and make sure the medicine works this time.”
Olivia nodded. She wouldn’t let another day pass with high fevers if she could help it. Bethany took the medicine and stared miserably up at her doctor.
“Now, Bethany. I’m going to sprinkle some pixie dust on you and Olivia to help you sleep, ok?”
The little one nodded. “I like your pixie dust, Aunt Rosie.” She said in a croaking voice. “It smells good.”
Rosie sprinkled a little bit of purple powder from a glass jar onto the blanket and the room filled with a soothing flowery fragrance. After the family circled up to petition Elyon for healing, Rosie quietly shooed everyone out of the room and shut the door behind herself.
“Lavender bath salt,” she explained. “It works wonders at getting little kids to relax.”
“Is she going to be alright?” Ariel asked later when the two of them were perched on the sparrow again.
Rosie sighed. “I hope so,” she confessed. “It worries me that she isn’t responding to the medication like she should.” Ariel thought about the sick little girl and hoped she’d get better too.
“Do all the Rapha have stuffed animals?” the flyer asked a minute later, thinking about Oliver and Olivia. Rosie couldn’t help but laugh.
“No!” she told her, once she got her laughing under control. “Just me and Basil. Because we work so much with little children. It’s a funny quirk that they’ve become such a part of our work.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, about eight years ago, Dill talked me into making a teddy bear one Christmas for a ‘poor, lonely, little orphan boy’ he knew who was missing his family,” Rosie related. “I found out Christmas morning that the ‘little orphan’ Dill had in mind was Basil. Dill meant it as a cruel joke, but the joke was on him: even though he was thirteen and too old for toys, Basil actually loved his present. It reminded him of another bear named Oliver he had when he was little. When he started treating kids, Oliver started going with him, and the kids loved Oliver, too. In fact, Oliver was so successful, I decided I needed a helper of my own, and Olivia came into being.”
Ariel was fascinated. “Wow!” she breathed.
Rosie was quiet for a moment, thinking mischievous thoughts.
“Want to know who Oliver’s first patient was?” she finally queried.
“Who?”
“Keeper!”
“No!” Ariel wondered if Rosie was pulling a joke on her. That sounded so much like something Dill would think up.
“It’s true!” Rosie insisted. “It was just a few months after that Christmas and Keeper came down with double pneumonia and a raging fever. He nearly died. Basil put Oliver in his bed, hoping it might help somehow. We all saw it there, but no one laughed or said anything. We were so desperate for Keeper to get better that I think the rest of us were hoping it would help, too. Who knows? Maybe it did. His fever broke that night.”
Ariel digested this bit of history. “So, Oliver doesn’t just work on little kids.”
“Apparently not. And if I’m lucky, maybe Olivia will inherit some of Oliver’s magic for little Bethany back there.”
Ariel nodded. She hoped so, too.
Down below them, Rosie and Sage’s tree came into view. The sparrow circled twice before coming in for a landing before an old birch tree.
6
The Bath
“We’ve got guests today for lunch,” Rosie announced as she hopped down. “Not only are you here with us, but Basil, Dill, Grandma and Keeper are coming. Will you help me get the food ready?”
“Sure.” Ariel loved anything to do with eating.
“Good! You can make the salad while I get the spaghetti started.”
The princess followed the directions Rosie called out while the sauce started cooking. In no time, a clover salad was ready.
“What do you want me to do now?” the girl asked.
The young gnome’s eyes twinkled as she addressed the flyer.
“Why don’t you start some water in the bathtub?” she requested. “Put the cork in the drain hole first so the water won’t run out.”
“Ok.” Ariel started to the bathroom.
“And add a pinch of the bubble bath stuff in the blue bottle,” Rosie called after her.
Ariel corked the tub, started the water going and found the bottle Rosie had referred to. She wasn’t sure what a pinch was so added just a little of the powder. Bubbles started forming under the spigot. Like Basil’s bath, the girl thought to herself. As the tub filled, Ariel curiously looked over the rest of the house. It looked a lot like Basil or Dill’s homes: one big room for cooking eating and general living, a bathroom, entry hall, back hall, and a smaller workroom off from it. The big room in Rosie’s home had a much narrower bed than the ones in Basil or Dill’s homes.
“Do you sleep here?” the flyer asked, pointing at the bed.
“No. Our bedroom’s in there,” Rosie pointed. Where Basil’s closet would have been, Rosie’s home had another door. Ariel peeked in and saw a very large bed, a dresser, trunk, mirror, and an open door to the closet. Ariel stared at the huge bed for a minute and then realized the sense behind it. After all, Rosie’s husband was a very big man and he surely slept here, too.
“Basil and Dill don’t have bedrooms,” she commented.
“Of course not. Bachelors don’t need them.”
“Bachelors?”
“Men without wives,” Rosie defined. “Men don’t seem to care so much about privacy. With women: that’s another story.”
“It is?” Ariel didn’t have any privacy. It wasn’t even discussed by her people.
Rosie considered. “Well, I guess it’s what you’re used to and what’s an option.”
“Oh.” Ariel closed the door to the bedroom and looked around the main room. It was fairly similar to Basil’s – comfortably furnished, but not the crowded jumble of Dill’s place. Two soft armchairs, a couch and a rocking chair were gathered around the fireplace. On the mantel shelf sat a picture. Ariel moved in for a closer look.
It was a pencil drawing of the five young Rapha, gathered close together in comradeship. They were laughing together at some silent joke, faces shining and eyes gleaming. It made Ariel smile herself to see such a jovial gathering. She turned to examine the rest of the home.
Opposite from her was a workroom and she crossed the main room to examine it. It was larger than Basil’s and divided in two distinct sections. One half had a strange machine, shelves filled with bolts of cloth, and a table strewn with cut pieces of fabric. Beside the table was a covered easel and a short cabinet stocked with pencils, chalk, brushes, and jars of colored liquids. On the opposite side of the room was another table, this one covered with notebooks and little bottles, a small metal object, tubes, and chimney-less lanterns. The wall behind this table was filled with more books, bottles, and jars of dried plants. Another wall held a large chalk board with strange writing and symbols that she didn’t recognize dancing across most of its surface.
“What’s that?” Ariel pointed to the table in front of the board.
Wiping her hands on a towel, Rosie came over to see what Ariel was wondering about.
“A microscope. Sage is researching new medicines.”
“And that?” She pointed at the black board
“Chemistry stuff. I don’t understand it either.”
“Oh. And what’s that?” Ariel pointed in the other direction.
“My sewing machine. I make clothes.”
“Oh!” The mention of clothes reminded Ariel of something. “Rosie, I got clay all over one of Basil’s shirts! Could you help me clean it as a surprise for him?”
“Regular clay?” Rosie seemed optimistic.
“I don’t think so. Basil said it was red.”
The gnome’s optimism drained. “We can try. Red clay’s pretty hard to get out though. Bring it with you tomorrow and I’ll look at it.”
Curious, Ariel lifted the cloth covering the easel. Under the drop cloth was a painting in progress of the five young Rapha, the students, and their teachers. Ariel stared at the figures, speechless. She remembered the pictures on Basil’s playing cards and the picture on Rosie’s mantle. How easily she’d been able to recognize her new friends, but the realism of this piece of artwork was stunning. Rosie had done a wonderful job of not only capturing the likenesses of her subjects, but also their personalities: the gentleness of Sage’s soft smile, the mischievous glint in Dill’s eyes. Thyme’s easy going, relaxed stance, Basil’s warm friendly glow. Peter’s hesitant longing to be part of the Rapha’s. Grace and Hope’s childish innocence. Grandma’s warm accepting eyes, even the laughter ever present in Rosie’s eyes. There in their midst was Keeper: shorter than most of his students but radiating authority over all of them. Even in the painting his eyes seemed to see clear through to Ariel’s soul and read her inmost thoughts.
“What do you think?” Rosie asked tentatively. “I’m trying to get it done by Grandma’s birthday. Sometimes I can get one or two of the guys to pose for an hour, but mostly I have to do it by memory.”
“It’s beautiful,” Ariel breathed. “They look so real.”
Rosie smiled, relieved. “Please don’t mention it to Grandma. I want it to be a surprise.”
“I won’t tell,” Ariel promised. “You’re so good. I wish I could do something like this.”
Rosie blushed at the compliment. “Thank you.”
A patch of white in the main room caught the princess’ eye. “Did you do that too?” she asked, pointing to the mantel.
“Yes, years ago. Before Peter, Hope and Grace were part of our group. How’s the bathtub doing?”
In examining the house, Ariel had forgotten about the water. She ran across the big room to the bathroom and the water was quickly turned off.
“The tub’s full,” she called. “What do you need the water for?”
“You.”
Ariel stared at her blankly.
“What about if we got you cleaned up, fixed your hair up real pretty and surprised everyone for lunch?”
Ariel thought about it. She thought about the clean soapy smell that lingered on Basil and his clothes and the way she smelled so “earthy”. She thought of Rosie’s pretty hair and touched her own locks that she’d fruitlessly tried to comb the day before. And she ran a hand over her cheek, so rough and caked with mud and thought of how smooth and silky grandma’s face looked to her.
“How do I do this?” she asked in a small nervous voice.
“Let’s start by taking off that dress.”
So, Rosie helped her disrobe and step into the deliciously warm, bubbly water that smelled so delightfully flowery. The gnome showed her how to rub the bar of soap on the cloth and wash herself. Then, the older girl shampooed the flyer’s locks and rinsed the suds away with clean water from the tap. When Ariel stepped out of the tub and into the fluffy clean towel Rosie held out for her, she looked back and was horrified to see the dark brown water left behind in the tub.
