R.E.birth Page 11

  Has time always seemed so fast?

  “Agatha?” I hesitantly question.

  “Nope. Try again!” Evalyn’s sharp tone shines for me.

  “Ah, I see,” my disappointment is clear.

  “What’s that supposed to mean you little twit?” She looks back angrily.

  “Nothing. I was just working out if Agatha’s body had been invaded again,” I reply with a snarky comment.

  “You little…” Evalyn scowls and hurls a soapy glass at me. I deflect it with my hand, causing it to shatter against the ground.

  “How about for the sake of the dishes around here, you keep from throwing them at me,” I tell her while moving around the far wall toward the door to keep my distance.

  Glaring at me the whole time as I exit the house to drop my dirty laundry in the washbasin and when I return I can tell I have struck a nerve with her.

  “Now, do you have something I can clean the glass up with?” I ask in a sweet but sarcastic tone.

  “Do I have to show you everything?” She shoots a fiery glance over her shoulder.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, you do.”

  “Gah!” She exclaims while dropping a plate into the sink full of soapy water and drying her hands off

  With quickness she moves past me, around the island counter and opens the pantry doors harshly. She waves her arms in a sardonic manner, pointing to where the broom is kept and then returns to the dishes.

  When I have sufficiently swept up the broken glass into the metal pan I hold it in Evalyn’s peripheral vision with a cocky smirk on my face, finding that some part of me is getting pleasure out of irritating her. Though I am not sure if that is a good thing or bad I can tell she is about done with me as she looks at me with her dagger-like stare. She huffs loudly and pulls out a round metal bin from under the sink for me to dump it in. I do so and replace the broom and pan to their designated area.

  “What can I do to help get dinner ready?” My stomach is growls.

  “You can set up three spots at the table. We will need plates tonight, dear,” I find Agatha’s soft voice coming from her own body.

  “When did Evalyn leave?” I am a little surprised.

  “After you dumped the glass into the trash bin,” she looks over her shoulder and smiles.

  “So suddenly.” I cannot help but laugh a little.

  “You really shouldn’t provoke her. Her temper is nasty and I would like to keep my dishes intact,” she warns, but I see her smile turn to a satisfied grin.

  “No promises. She cannot just bully people around.”

  I set up the table as best as I can, recalling from memory where the plates, silverware and glasses are. Ami appears from the kitchen door and proceeds to the tall white box next to the pantry. I move closer to it as she has the door open and I can feel cold air coming from it.

  “What is that?”

  “This?” She holds up a glass bowl with a mixture of vegetables in it. “It’s salad and chicken, our dinner for tonight.”

  “No, that!” I point at the box.

  “This is a refrigerator. It’s best described as a place that cools things down so that they keep longer. And the top section is called the freezer. It cools them down even more that they freeze”

  “That is amazing. How does it work?”

  “Electricity,” she shrugs.

  “How is it possible that electricity can create light, but at the same time cool things down? If electricity is like lightning, how is it contained so that we are all still alive?”

  “So many questions! I guess we need to sit down and do another lesson,” she closes the door and heads over to the table.

  “That sounds like a promising idea. Shall we start tomorrow?”

  “Indeed,” she agrees.

  We have a nice and quiet meal and after cleaning up I retire to my new room. I lie down on the bed and find that it is softer than the couch. Glad that I have an actual bed to call my own, I fluff the pillow under my head and pull the blanket up over me, only to realize that I have left the light on. I get up and flip the switch to the left of the door and return to the bed, resolving to remember to turn it off before getting in bed next time. It is not long under the warm and cozy blanket before I find myself falling asleep.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Time’s passage is strange. One day feeling as if it is racing by and the next like it has come to a halt. Could it be an after effect of being displaced from time? Or maybe it has just been the couple days I have spent cooped up inside having Ami teach me about things that will likely take me longer to understand.

  Resting on my bed, I stare out the window to the city, lit up against the dark sky by the innumerous lights. Though the day was spent doing light work and learning, I find my mind ready to shut down, overwhelmed with all the things Ami had shown me throughout the house and within our lesson plan, studying the changes in our language since my time.

  I wonder if this feeling of awe at everything and constant questioning how much I do not…don’t…know will ever subside. No doubt she has only begun teaching me a miniscule amount of things I am unaware of.

  But really, if someone would have told me without showing me that a small box that you can hold in your hand could capture sights instantly and perfectly in their moment, I suppose I would not have believed them.

  Waiting patiently for Agatha to go to sleep, I think about Ami whispering in my ear after dinner telling me that we were going out again tonight and how it excited me that she leaned in closely to do so. Though I am unsure if it was her breath on my skin or the fact that she wants to spend more time with me, it sent shivers down my neck and caused my hair to stand on end.

  I suppose that it could be loneliness, or just relishing the ability to go out and relate to someone about her age, but what if it is more than that? Could she actually be growing attached to me?

  While I am unsure of her motivation, I am more than eager to oblige her, as I find her company captivating. My anticipation of leaving the house causes me to get up from my bed and begin to pace back and forth, reminded that time feels like it slows when bored or in anticipation. I wonder if a nap might help me pass the time, however after a few moments I decide against it, not wanting to be left behind in case she sees that I am asleep and leaves without me.

  Tugging on my newest shirt, a dark green, wool ‘sweater’ as Ami called it, I find that it is a little tight and I almost want to take it off. But at the risk of her becoming offended that I don’t like her shirt I stand up and begin to try and stretch it out some. Becoming a little more comfortable in it, I stand near the window noticing that while the sky is clear I cannot see the stars very well. There is movement within the city and I watch as a train passes across the tops of the buildings, stopping occasionally.

  I wonder if I was an adventurer before. It seems when I am sitting still I feel like I should be moving. If the Dark Ages that Ami and Agatha speak of were indeed a primitive culture I cannot think of anything else that I might have done to obtain the excitement my mind seems to crave.

  Finally, after a significant amount of both boredom and time there is a light rapping on my door. I move swiftly to it and twist the knob. When I pull the door open Ami is there with her hair tied off to the side in a braid, wearing a nice white blouse to match and a very straight, white dress with a red ribbon tied around her waist in a bow. She catches me looking and puts her hands together in front of her hips and shrugs while smiling coyly.

  “Are you ready to go?” She whispers.

  “Yes,” I pull the door shut with the knob twisted so that the latch does not make any noise.

  The stairs creak under our combined weight, so I let her finish descending before I follow and they have no more complaints about being trampled on by two people at once. Sneaking through the house, we slip through the kitchen and out the door into the cool night. As if Ami had foresight, I find the sweater keeping me warm and I am thankful that I kept
it on. She puts on a warmer top as well and it appears to be of the same type of material but it only has a single button in front in which to keep it closed. Though it has longer sleeves it only reaches half way down her torso and I silently question the practicality of the top, regardless of how good it looks.

  “What is that you’re wearing?”

  “What?” She looks down.

  “The half sweater thing?”

  “Oh, it’s a midriff sweater. Do you like it?” She smiles while taking my arm in hers.

  “While it seems a little counterproductive to what a sweater is supposed to do, it does look good.”

  “Thanks,” I can feel her skip a little as she begins to lead us into the city.

  Our pace is nowhere near as fast as the first time we snuck out, walking casually enough that I feel that she has no fear of getting caught tonight. While we walk toward the city line I notice that people have continued to mill about in this large field around the house, some stopping to look no doubt bewilderment at the house that only a few days ago was not there.

  I decide not to ask her where we are going tonight and instead take in some of the sights while we stroll. She presses her side up against mine and pulls my arm in tighter to share warmth with each other. After a while of walking through the food market and not buying anything, to my dismay, we find our way a few roads over and near Emma’s shop.

  “Shall we go see how Emma’s doing?” I ask.

  “I suppose we can do that,” Ami’s tone is bland and she grimaces a little.

  The streets are familiar, but between day and night the city seems like two different places entirely. I take my time to observe everything and notice that many shop signs are lit up, all in different colors and many of them have a name associated with the shop they are attached to, along with a greeting to try and get people to enter their shops. ‘Welcome! Please Come In!’ and ‘Open for Business!’ attempt to entice the masses.

  I spot a familiar one, lit by a single lamp overhead. Emma’s shop enters my view and she has the door open. When we reach her window there is a sign lit up in bright yellow that displays ‘Welcome! Fresh Produce!’

  People appear to be bustling in, out and all around her shop and I find myself a little excited for her as it seems that this would be a promising sign that she is getting business. Upon entering her store we find little more than elbowroom to maneuver through and people are raising their voices to be heard, wanting to be next in line. When we look around at her tables and shelves of produce, it appears that she has already increased her quantities and the quality of the produce she is selling. Catching a glimpse of her, I can see Emma behind her counter, her fingers flying at an incredible speed across her PayPad and swiping people’s cards. The moment she has finished her transaction with one customer she moves onto the next one and takes care of their needs just as quickly.

  At the speed that the produce is snatched up it does not take long for the heavy traffic through here to dwindle down when people either find what they are looking for or that most of it is gone. Ami hugs tighter onto my arm as people brush past us to exit and I find an opportunity to move toward Emma’s counter, standing to the side. Emma briefly looks over and smiles brightly at us before returning to her attention to her last customer’s needs.

  While Emma finishes conducting business with her PayPad, out of the corner of my eye I see a boy about her age rush into the shop. As I watch him intently, he scowls while glaring at Emma. Shock enters my mind as the boy snatches an apple from one of her produce baskets and turns to head for the door and my immediate thoughts are that he is a thief. My instincts kick in.

  “Hey! Come back here!” I start after him, releasing Ami.

  Once outside the boy shocks me yet again and lobs the apple at Emma’s front window. I stop dead in my tracks and watch the apple shatter, and the glass spider-web at the impact point. Ami shrieks and I pursue him.

  “Next time it won’t be an apple!” the boy threatens.

  “Hey, get over here!” I yell at him angrily.

  Seeing me heading toward him, his eyes go wide and he turns around, running to hide himself in the sea of people out on the street. Hot on his heels I make a swipe at the scruff of his shirt and miss when he ducks between a couple people. As my arm over extends past where my hand was supposed to grab I lose my balance a little bit and stumble over my own feet, knocking into a couple and garnering a protest.

  “Sorry!” I apologize and look for him again.

  He is able to put some distance between us by running through the tight spaces in between the adults and I find myself at a disadvantage. I am unable to keep up with him and as he is too far ahead of me I decide that scaring him off was enough heroics for the day. When I reach the door of Emma’s shop she and Ami are waiting for me.

  “What was that about?” I inquire of Emma, trying to catch my breath.

  “That was Denis. He’s the son of the man in charge of the United Fighting Arts, Trevor Lindali.”

  “Wait. That was Denis?” I am shocked to find that this extortion ring is being led around by a little kid. “Why did he just destroy your front window?”

  “He found out that I am earning more now and they want more protection money. I told them no,” she sighs.

  “That’s pretty low,” Ami says.

  “Yeah. Thanks to the produce you sold me I was able to start a cascade effect and begin to get better and better produce from the suppliers,” she frowns. “Once I got better produce, more people started coming in and buying. That led to more money and then the brutes heard…”

  “Someone needs to stop them,” I feel a rage inside at this injustice. “It is terrible that he would destroy someone’s place of business, especially a little girl’s.”

  Though I am angry with the child for breaking her window I begin to seethe that one group of people is beating up on another group of people just for money.

  “It can’t be helped. He has the backing of the U.F.A. fighters and they are some of the best fighters in the world.”

  “Are you going to be okay?” Ami asks her.

  “Yeah, I am just about out of produce now anyway. I’ll just close up for the night and go contract a local window maker,” her disappointment is apparent. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had a broken window.”

  “You are sure you will be okay? You are not worried they are going to come back tonight?” I feel compelled to make sure she’s safe for the remainder of the night.

  “Denis has issued his warning for the day. And because you chased him off I don’t think he would come back anyway.” She lets out a little giggle.

  I don’t feel reassured at all, feeling compelled for reasons I cannot identify to help her by maybe confronting some of these henchmen, though I have no idea how. Remembering the large man with the much larger muscles I realize that he would probably crush me. Ami hooks her arm to mine again and tugs, indicating that she would like to get going. Reluctantly, I cave in and begin to turn away but my mind and mouth run away from me.

  “I will find a way to scare them off for good,” I promise, something that I do not know if I can uphold.

  “Really?!” Emma’s eyes light up and a glimmer of hope shines.

  “I don’t know how yet, but I will think of something,” committed to what my mouth blurted out I simply reaffirm it.

  Ami elbows me in the ribs and looks at me in disbelief. A smile is all I have to offer her.

  “Thank you, Rain!” Emma jumps and hugs me around my waist.

  It is an awkward feeling for me as something internally tells me that I have no past experience with children. Hugging into my stomach she seems overly excited at my promise and I have to put my hand on her shoulder to break her away. Emma grins wildly up at me and Ami tugs again.

  “We’ll come back and see you again soon!” Ami says cheerfully, but when her face is out of Emma’s line of sight she grimaces and pulls even harder.

  As we walk away I look over
my shoulder and find that Emma is watching intently. I wave to her and she smiles, intertwining her fingers and bringing them up to her chest.

  How did I just let my mouth get me into trouble like that?

  Walking, there is an awkward silence between us and every time I look over Ami has the same frown on her face. It appeared when I suggested visiting Emma and has persisted since.

  Why might she be upset at my suggestion to check up on Emma? Can I be so out of touch because of my memory loss that I am doing something wrong?

  Ami directs us toward a sign that has a picture of people getting onto the train and has an arrow pointing into a building. We walk into a doorway and I notice that there is nothing in here but stairs and the one door we just came from. Hugging the right side of the stairs to follow the foot traffic, we make our way up and around to a door with no handles or hinges, split down the middle. There are more stairs to the right but Ami stops us at the doors where a multitude of others are standing and waiting for something. There is a ding, like the sound of a bell, and the doors slide open to reveal a very small, closed off space. People come out, people go in and we move up in a line. We wait for our turn at the unknown, at least unknown to me. When the doors open again new people are there and they exit as well, while more people move in.

  Ami and I find our way into the enclosed space and the doors shut behind us. Someone reaches over and presses a big white rectangular button with a symbol that looks to represent the train and I let out a gasp of air when my body seems to feel heavier and the box we are in makes noises. I suck in to catch my breath, confused at a sense of movement and look at Ami in a panic. She tugs on my arm and the smile returns to her face. Pulling me close, she rests her face on my arm and I feel calmer. The box stops moving and a ding can be heard again as the doors slide open. We exchange places with people waiting to get into it and Ami deftly leads us out and to the side so that we are not trampled. Back inside the stairwell I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “How did you like your first ride in an elevator?”