R.E.birth Page 7

  Returning to my current choice material, I hand it back to her. “Would this go well with the other material I picked out?”

  “Not really. I’ll show you some that would.”

  We go through a few more materials that I cannot seem to get used to before she hands me a more flexible material. It is a darker blue and not faded like the other material. It flows well as I hold it up and fake wind by waving it through the air a few times. As I rub the material through my fingertips, I find that this texture is to my liking. She takes it back from me, apparently having noticed that I liked it, and begins to pack up her cloth. I reach out to help her and she slaps my hand down.

  “I can do this.”

  “I should really help. Hauling all of this upstairs cannot be easy.”

  She looks at me reluctantly and I know she does not want me to strain myself, but while picking up several piles of cloth she leaves some for me and nods. Quickly I gather up some stacks of cloth and begin to follow her. She looks back over her shoulder at me with her perfect blue eyes. I see a hint of a smile. When she notices I am looking directly at her she focuses back on where she is going, but she misses a step.

  With all of the cloth in her arms she loses her balance. Cloth flies out in front of her and she falls toward the heap on the stairs. I drop the cloth in my arms to the side and move to help her. Pushing herself up she grabs onto my arm, but when she pulls, she slips on a piece of material on the polished wooden stair and now we are both going down. She screams out as she falls again, sliding onto her backside against the rigid steps and I land on top of her. My chin hits her collarbone and I cringe in pain both as the wound on my abdomen flares up and my whole jaw aches from just being impacted. As much as I would like to just curl up right now, I realize that I am in a very awkward position, my face next to the bare skin of her collarbone. My face turns red as I scramble to stand up and she giggles.

  “Are you okay?” She stands up and uses one hand to turn my face both left and right, examining my chin.

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “Other than this pain in my collarbone, yeah. Just a little embarrassed that I was being klutzy.” She turns red and removes her hand from my face, realizing she had been holding my cheek gently.

  She flips around and begins to gather the dropped cloth and I follow suit. While we work together, our hands brush occasionally and I cannot help but wonder if she finds me attractive. When we have cleaned up the mess we slowly and carefully make our way up the stairs. Upon reaching the top, Ami fumbles trying to grab the doorknob to her sewing room. Cramming all of the cloth between her upper body and the door allows her to successfully reach and turn it without dropping anything. The door unlatches and she quickly grabs the cloth, managing to keep hold of the stack. Inside the sewing room, she moves to the desk on the left and throws her pile down onto it.

  “Just set it there.” She points next to her pile.

  “What is that?” I finally ask about the contraption on the table in the middle of the room.

  “It’s a sewing machine.”

  “How does it work? It moves so effortlessly.”

  “It’s a machine.” She moves to it and begins pointing at several points. “It’s hard to describe, but basically instead of hand stitching everything, I can take a cut pattern of cloth, push it across this platform, under this piece that’s called the foot, and this machine pushes and pulls the thread through the material for me.”

  “Is it powered by that ‘uh-leck-tri-city’ that Agatha told me about?”

  “Electricity? Yes. When plugged into the wall over there the electricity provides power to it which when I press this foot pedal down here makes the things inside the machine go and the needle goes up and down.”

  “It seems way beyond my understanding.”

  “That’s okay. You’ll get it as time goes on.”

  Moving toward the door she waves for me to follow and we are soon back down in the living room. She motions for me to sit.

  “We should change your bandages,” she suggests.

  Nodding to her, she moves down the dark hallway to the bathroom. Sitting on the couch to rest, I find that my energy levels seem to be dropping but I do not let it get the better of me. Removing my button-up shirt, I set it to the side and remove the metal clips. Beginning to unwrap the bandage to make it a smooth transition for her, she appears from the darkness and stops me.

  “I’ll do that.” She scoots the table forward and sits on it.

  I lean forward from the couch to make it easy for her and she, too, leans in, slowly taking the bandage off. She has to wrap her arms around my sides in order to pass the material around from one hand to another and each time she does we lean rather close together. I can feel her warm breath against my bare skin and I find my face turning red against my will, making me wish that she or Agatha had done this while I was asleep to avoid embarrassment. She finishes unwrapping and slowly peels off the actual cloth that had padded the wound, first from the front, then she stands up and leans around me to take the one from the back.

  “Your back is almost completely healed up, so we won’t put a new bandage on that side; this should be the last one we have to put on the front,” she tells me, while sitting back on the table.

  I barely notice her actions anymore but feel the softness of her hands as she works around me. I look down at the top of her head, admiring the smell of her hair, fragrant with a flowery smell. But as she finishes fastening the bandage, she looks up and notices I have been staring intently at her. Our faces are close together and she notices me blushing. We sit there for a moment and I see her face begins to get red as well. An awkward moment ensues as an almost magnetic force slowly pulls us closer together. Our faces are mere inches apart and the urge to lean in is becoming too powerful to control as I feel her breath close to my lips. However, I am startled as Agatha pushes into the room from the kitchen. I can see a shocked look on her face.

  “Ahem!”

  Ami freaks out, leaning back too quickly and nearly falls off the table. Forced to over-correct she jumps to her feet and grabs the dirty bandage pads from the table.

  “Mother! How long have you been back?” She says while looking down nervously.

  “Apparently just long enough, young lady,” Agatha smiles and then shoots me a playful, dirty look.

  “I…” is all I have to say in my poor defense.

  “Well, I found the market out there. I met this adorable little girl who seems to be running a shop all by herself,” Agatha tells us. “They use an electronic currency, but I think we’ll do just fine bartering.”

  “That’s good because I have so many patterns to sell. I bet I’ll make a killing,” Ami says, while fiddling with the pads in her hands.

  “Soup’s about ready,” Agatha says. “We can have an early supper and get some rest for tomorrow.”

  Standing up, I put my shirt back on and follow them both into the kitchen. While Ami takes the cloth pads out to the washbasin in the yard, Agatha produces three bowls from a cupboard under the island counter and begins to dish up, handing two bowls to me. While I take them over to the table and set them on either side of the chair I had previously chosen, I turn around to get the last one from Agatha, only to find she has followed me with the last bowl and spoons. Nearly colliding with her, she backs up abruptly while trying not to spill. She lets out a sigh of relief as not a drop hits the floor.

  “Sorry, Agatha.” I smile and move out of her way so she can set the bowl down.

  “No big deal,” she says, as Ami reenters the house. “Would you like water or juice?”

  “Water is fine. Thank you.”

  Ami hears the request and moves to intercept her mother, getting glasses from the same area as the bowls. Agatha puts her hands on her hips, defeated and retrieves some bread from the pantry next to a tall, strange white box that I have yet to identify. She sets it down and retrieves a butter dish to compliment it. They both sit and I follow their lead, fe
eling my body relax against the back of the chair. Still a little unsettled from the almost kiss and its interruption, I find myself letting out a small sigh.

  What in the world happened there? I barely know the girl and I am already subconsciously making advances at her. She is beautiful, no doubt. But is it wise to do such things?

  We begin to eat our meal slowly and I start with a hunk of soft bread, slathering butter all over it and taking a bite. As the bread touches my tongue, I note a subtle hint of honey baked in. While I chew, I examine the dark-colored bread. I let out a satisfied grunt as the bread nearly melts in my mouth and I am delighted by the flavor.

  “We still don’t know your name, do we?” Agatha breaks the silence.

  “I wish I had one to give you,” I tell her, while taking another bite of bread and keeping my eyes averted.

  I find my voice meek and I wonder if it is because I am unsure of whom I am or if I am still feeling awkward after being caught nearly kissing her daughter.

  “Well, since you can’t remember, you should decide what you would like for us to call you and that will be your name here.” Agatha smiles at me while bringing a spoonful of soup up to her lips and begins blowing to cool it off.

  I take time to think about it while I eat. Nothing but random bits about what happened in the forest come to my head and the only name I know besides theirs is the one of my supposed attacker, Drake. My mind becomes distracted with thoughts of him.

  I know that I am safe from him now, as whatever time I was in is far removed from where I am now.

  His death, somewhere in the past, puts me at ease some and I return to the task at hand, thinking of a name.

  “How about ‘Burnt-mouth’?” Ami suggests and she tries to stifle a laugh.

  Agatha looks at her, confused. Ami sums the situation up for her, causing Agatha to laugh a little too. They continue eating their food while I stare into my bowl, swirling the rice and vegetables around with my spoon.

  “I am not sure what I want to be called. Nothing is coming to mind,” I take a spoonful of soup and shove it in my mouth.

  “How about ‘Rain’?” Ami smiles at me and I can tell her suggestion is sincere this time.

  “Rain?” I inquire looking up from the whirlpool I had made in the soup.

  “Sure, it was raining when we saved you. I figured it might be fitting.”

  “I suppose it does have a nice ring to it. So, I guess I am Rain,” I introduce myself with my new name.

  “Welcome to our home, Rain. Or should I say ‘your new home’?” Agatha officially receives me into their home.

  We finish the dinner quietly and I ponder my new name, Rain, and who I will be as a new person with no past to influence me.

  What kind of person is Rain? I could have been a bad person before, but does anyone ever really set out to be bad? What if Drake tried to kill me because I was worse than he appeared to be? Could I have been a criminal?

  Normally one develops a personality from birth to adulthood, but I suppose whoever I was is gone now and I will find out as I go with resolve to do my best for the women who saved my life.

  My soup disappears at a much slower rate than Ami or Agatha’s. I eventually finish and stand up with my bowl to take it to the sink, only to have it stolen from me by Ami yet again. I squint at her and give her a playful look but she ignores it and washes up the few dishes that we had dirtied from the time that I cleaned some earlier.

  With nothing for me to do here in the kitchen, I retire to the couch and sit down, feeling exhaustion fall over me. My stomach full, my body clothed and my head protected from the elements, I find myself slipping into a comfortable mindset and my body follows suit. Slouching against the arm of the couch, I feel my consciousness beginning to wane.

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

  Having fallen asleep leaning against the cushions of the couch, I awake when my body seems to spasm. Though the drapes are drawn across the window, I can tell it is dark outside now. Covered up with the blanket on the back of the couch by one of the women, I shift around trying to stay under it as the colder air threatens to drain my heat.

  Curious though, I stand up and make my way over to the window with the blanket wrapped around me and peer between the drapes to find that there are lights coming from all of the buildings. But what really perplexes me are the lights that appear to be hovering above the ground just beyond the border of trees.

  Staring in awe at the sight before me I think about electricity and all I can imagine is lightning bolts somehow making all of the lights illuminate. Turning back around, I find that everything seems much darker because I had been staring outside at the lights. Carefully making my way back to the couch I sit down and pull the edges of the blanket tight. But before I can get fully comfortable, I see Ami quickly and quietly creeping down the stairs with some items in her arms. My eyes have adjusted enough for me to see that she has some cloth draped over one arm and a small bag hanging from her shoulder. She is wearing a long white shirt with her shoulders covered by an airy shawl and a long pleated skirt that both look blue in color.

  “Quick! Put these on!” She whispers while dropping some socks and a pair of shoes that had been hidden from sight into my lap.

  Reluctant to uncover myself and be cold I look at her with a quirked eyebrow, but she waves her hands for me to hurry. With the blanket still draped across my back I slip the socks and shoes on and note that the shoes seem strange with thick padding on all sides. Shorter than I would have expected, the shoes only come to my ankles and the lacing weaves back and forth up to the tongue. I pull the string tight and tie it off in a bow, finding that this mundane task is something I know how to do. When I wiggle my toes around, the shoes feel a little small on me but the padding inside molds to my feet and I quickly become comfortable in them. Finished I look up at her.

  “Now what?” I question.

  “Quickly! Let’s go!” She grabs my hand with her free one and pulls me up.

  Ami leads me through the kitchen, letting go only to open the door slowly and quietly. We sneak out and she closes the door in the same manner. I am confused by her actions. But I am compelled to go along both out of curiosity, and because she has my hand, leading me in a jog away from the house toward the edge of the field, and beyond that the buildings.

  “Mother isn’t the only one who can make connections. I’m pretty good myself,” Ami’s voice has returned to a normal volume, albeit a little labored as she huffs and glances back at the house.

  “What are we doing?” I inquire, puzzled as to why we are heading toward the unfamiliar area.

  “We’re having a night on the town! I brought some extra clothes and designs to sell so that we can get some money to spend.”

  “Spend on what?”

  “I don’t know, whatever we want I guess.”

  We tear across the grassy field and through the tree borderline onto a hard grayish-black surface. Just from the looks of it I can tell it is a road of some kind where people are walking to and fro en masse. Everything is strange to me at this point. I look up at the incredibly tall buildings and find they are more intimidating up close, in the dark and in person, than they were in the light and at a distance. But I can see now the supports spanning between the buildings are foot bridges with glass enclosures that connect the interiors of each building together as people are moving through them.

  Light pours from windows and doorways in all directions, illuminating the street along with posts that have lights hanging from them as far as the eye can see, deep into the city. With my attention back on these completely solid roads I find that they are the base of this massive city and they lead all along the outside edges of each building.

  While on the outside perimeter of the buildings the crowd is casual, people walking at a slower pace, but when I look in between the buildings the population increases significantly and I find it confusing that so many people would be out at this time of night.

&
nbsp; Along with the loud noises coming from the bustle along the ground I am startled by a loud clacking noise high above me and to the left, as a large snake like object with windows and lights flies along at immense speed across the top of the buildings. It comes to a stop on the building directly in front of us and I can see movement inside the windows. Before I can point it out to Ami, it has sped off again, turning into the city out of my sight.

  “What is this world?” I am in utter disbelief at this new experience.

  “We will have plenty of time to gander later! Come on!” She tugs on my hand and begins to lead us into the masses of people between the buildings, stopping only briefly to talk to some people walking by.

  “Hello! We’re new around here. Could you direct me to a shopping area? Maybe some clothes shops?” Ami asks.

  “You’re on the edge of the shopping district now,” a tall, skinny man responds, pointing off to our left. “If you follow this walkway down about half a mile and take a left where the road forks and then keep straight, you’ll reach an intersection a little farther down where there are several clothing shops. The first one you’ll see has a big yellow sign with ‘Anselmo’s Place’ written on it.”

  “Thank you!” She smiles at the man and urges me on. “Come on Rain!”

  She yanks on my hand yet again and leads us hastily in the direction that the man had pointed toward. I look over at Ami and find her joy is innocent and childlike. Her eyes sparkle under the lights as we follow the directions given to us.

  I take notice that beyond the sea of people are stores and carts where merchants are selling numerous things. As we find our way through, all kinds of delicious smells assault my nose and the thought of food makes my mouth water. At one moment I smell something sweet, and another I smell something like meat cooking. Ami seems to pay it no mind, but the smells are making me hungry despite having eaten only a few hours ago.

  Ami forges forward and when we find it, follows the left fork in the road where I find the buildings seem to be never ending, and the same can be said of the crowds of people. Before the numbers can overwhelm us, she pulls my hand and we begin darting and dodging through breaks in between people, as if it were a game. I hold tight to Ami’s hand. She looks back at me for a brief moment, smiles, and then continues to hustle our way through.