79: Surrounded and Alone

Todd

     I don't understand! I knew before that she didn't want to be my girlfriend, but we'd hung out so much lately that I thought she changed her mind!
      I think back on the past few weeks. Adele came over almost every day. It was weird that she wanted to hang out at my house, but I didn't mind. Her dad scares me.
      Oh no. He's going to hear that I kissed Adele, I think with dread filling my veins.

It didn't work.

     I text Eddie. He told me I should try it since he kissed Helen and liked it. Eddie's convinced that me and Adele should be a couple too. I can't believe what my best friend has turned into.
     He thinks Helen is the prettiest girl in school, and since she's his girlfriend then that makes them the most popular couple. He's going around the school like he owns it. The worst is that it looks like everyone else agrees! When did this become important?
     Eddie (he wants us to call him that instead of Eduardo because it's easier and faster to say -- whatever) told me that it was embarrassing that Adele wasn't my girlfriend. I hardly know the guy anymore! We're eleven, and he acts like we're sixteen or something.

     I walk inside to hear my parents fighting in the kitchen, so I sigh to myself and walk into the den to escape. They don't expect me to be home for a while, and I don't want to get in the middle of all that yelling.

     We have a big piano that no one plays.
     "You're not my friend anymore!" I hear Adele's voice yell at me in my head.
      Sighing again, I sit down on the piano bench. Staring at the black keys, I notice they're grouped up into twos and threes over and over again.

       I reach up and lightly press down on a key in the middle just under and to the left of a set of two black keys. Then, I do the same for the one just under and to the left of the next set of two to my right.
      Huh. They sound the same... kinda, I think as I play the two keys back and forth

     Out of curiosity, I play the note just under and to the left of the set of three black keys. It's a little different somehow. Then, I randomly play the higher note under the two black keys before going to the one under the three and back again.
      That was cool! I think as I do it again. Then, I play all three keys at the same time. I have to use two hands, so I do the lower one with my left hand. It's a nice sound.

     Playing around now, I move each finger up a key to try out other combinations with the same space apart. They all sound good until one of them sounds broken... or something. Even though it sounds broken, I like it. It fits my mood right now and somehow makes me feel better.
     I try out different combinations of the different keys to see what happens and see if I can get a similar sound elsewhere. Sometimes it works, and sometimes I have to trade a white key for a black one.
     Then, something I play sounds like Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. I sit and figure it out while I sing the note that's supposed to come next before I find the sound on the piano.
      Before too long, I try out a few other songs I know, and it starts to become easier to guess how many keys to jump from what I remember the sounds sounded like while I was stacking notes a while ago.

     "What are you doing in here?!" my dad suddenly yells at me from the doorway to the den, and I jump out of my skin. "What makes you think it's okay to bang on the piano like that?" he snaps.
     "I wasn't banging! I was playing very quietly so you wouldn't be bothered by me!" I say back to him while getting off the piano bench.

     "Listen! I can play a song!" I tell him and rush back over to the keys to play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star again. I mess up a few times, but I eventually get it out.
      "You're not old enough to be playing on the piano. It's not a toy," he says in a scolding tone.
      "I wasn't treating it like a toy," I say, trying not to sound like I'm sassing back at him.
      "You want to take lessons?" he asks, then he doesn't wait for me to answer. "Good. Go find a teacher. I'll pay for it. It'll get you out of my hair more, you and your little friend Allison or whoever," he says in an irritated voice.
      "Adele," I correct him, knowing he doesn't care anyway. And I don't think that'll be a problem anymore.
     "Whatever, but you don't touch the piano again until you're taking lessons, got it?"
     "Yes, sir," I answer and gently close the lid with a feeling of sadness. I have no idea where I can find a piano teacher or even if I want someone to teach me.
      Getting "that look" from Dad, I leave the den for my room. Once in there, I pull the jewelry box out of the pocket of my jeans and open it up. I'd hurriedly thrown the locket in the box before leaving Adele's room, so I work on untangling it now.
      That done, I stare at the locket in my hand, feeling hurt. I thought for sure she'd like it because Adele likes this kind of stuff even if she sometimes tries to play like she's got a tough shell around her. Even I think it's pretty, and I think it looked pretty on her.
     Why did she have to get so mad?! Why did I listen to Eddie?! Why did I have to kiss her?! I scream in my head and can't really think up an answer.

     I don't know, I internally growl as I arrange the locket like it's supposed to be in the box before closing it and putting it in my sock drawer. Mom makes me match my own socks, saying she gets tired of me losing them, so I know it'll stay hidden.

     

     I guess I don't have to worry about getting her something for Christmas, I think dully before getting out my tablet to play something.

Then Adele is weird

     My phone chirps at me, and I read the text back from Eddie. Adele isn't weird, I growl at him in my head.

You're weird.

     I text back. He probably reads that as me kidding around, and I don't care to correct him. I meant it in an "I'm fed up with this" way.

     We have a week until we get out for our break for Christmas and New Year's, and it's a week from hell. Eddie teases me unmercifully, and Helen thinks it's the funniest thing, encouraging him to keep doing it. Adele sits quietly all by herself at lunch. She even looks like she's all by herself when she's surrounded by people during class. I'm scared to go talk to her.

     By Friday, I've had enough of Heldo, and I walk off and leave them at lunch. They don't care. They're surrounded by all the other kids trying to get in on this crazy "popular" game. Guessing that Adele doesn't want to talk to me, I decide to sneak into the theatre, a place we're not allowed to eat in, to have my lunch. There's a piano in the theatre.

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The child piano poses turned out great the first try, and they're available here. All but 2 of the poses in the last shot I did, but I'm having trouble getting the dern picnic table to show up in Blender, so it'll be a while before they get released.

78: Wise Beyond Your Years

 Adele

     I numbly follow Aunt Pam and Uncle Simon into the house while Uncle Simon carries my passed out daddy. My hands still feel just a little warmer than normal.

     "I'm a witch, Adele… and so are you," I hear Aunt Pam's voice in my head. I used some strange power to hurt Daddy, even if I didn't mean to. I'm evil, I think to myself as we all climb the stairs to Daddy's room.

     "He just needs to rest, that's all, but keep an eye on him for a minute," Aunt Pam tells Uncle Simon. Then, she turns to me and asks to speak to me in my room.

     I nod, and we both make our way across the hallway and into my room before I go put on my old necklace and sit on my bed. Aunt Pam pulls the chair away from my desk and sits in it. I wait to see what she has to say.

 

    

     Tentatively, she starts. "On the beach, you said that you were bad, but you're not."

     "I hurt Daddy," I point out.

     "True, but it was unintentional, fueled by an out-of-control anger."

     "Is Daddy a witch too?" I ask, wondering that since Pam is one and I'm one that Daddy must be one too.

     "No," she answers, surprising me. I scowl. "Your mother is though," she continues quietly like she's apologizing.

     "And she's evil. So I'm evil," I state.

     "Adele, it's not a matter of being 'good' or 'evil'! It's what you do with what you've been given that determines that," she says with more emotion in her voice.

     "How can hurting people be good?" I ask angrily.

     Aunt Pam takes a deep breath. "Let me try to explain it to you. Through the centuries, they came up with three different categories, um classifications, for the different inherent abilities witches possessed. Just for clarification, we use colors to name them: white, red, and black. I don't know why they chose those colors, but they still stand in as the way to differentiate. I guess, now that I think about 'why,' I guess you could say that for black, imagine everything around you scorched and burnt. For white, imagine a blank canvas. I honestly can't think of a reason for red. Maybe they thought that was a good middle of the spectrum."

     "Which one am I?" I ask with already a guess in my head.

     "I'm not positive, but I have a guess. First, let me describe them. Black witches have a higher aptitude for destructive spells. White witches have a higher aptitude for constructive spells. Red have a little of both without a strength in either. Aunt Lynne is a red witch."

     "Aunt Lynne's one too?" I ask, surprised but happy that there's someone else.

     "Yes," she answers.

     "So, which one do you think I am?" I don't want to tell her my guess until I hear hers.

     "I think you're a black witch, judging from the power of what you did. Plus, your mother is one."

     My guess was right.

     "So, what? I just go around destroying things like it's my job?" I snap.

     "No!" she answers me like she wants me to think that idea is crazy. "You're only seeing the bad. There's good in destruction."

     "How?" I ask in a snarky tone.

     "Well, imagine there's something bad coming at you. Imagine a swarm of locusts or whatever are about to destroy your crops. Zap! They're gone, and you save the day."

      I give her a look like I think she's crazy and say, "There's aren't any locusts around here."

     "That was just an example, the same one my mother gave me, and that's why I thought of it. Also, there's usually a better rebirth after destruction. Think of a previous lava flow. What it leaves behind is a great place for new, stronger plantlife. Think of a phoenix."

     "So I create the ashes. Fabulous," I say sarcastically and fall back onto my bed, having yet another reason to hate the one that gave birth to me. "And you're a white witch and that's why you were able to so easily cure Daddy," I guess aloud.

     "Yes, but that wasn't what I'd call easy. If that's what you did without conscious effort, you're very powerful."

     Maybe I'm more powerful than that awful woman that left me and Daddy. Maybe, one day if she ever shows up again, I can blast her off the face of the earth, I smile with the thought.

     "Why haven't you told me this before today?" I ask.

     She slowly explains it to me. "Because we weren't sure. We like to keep a low profile, as you can imagine, and we didn't expect you to show signs until a little older than now. I'd already started trying to figure out how to tell you since most figure it out at thirteen, fourteen, not as much fifteen and beyond. I guess, you could also say, I didn't want to accept that you're growing up, so I kept you as a child in my mind. And I'm sorry for that."

     I sit up to say in a resigned way, "It's fine. As you said, you didn't know and weren't ready or expecting it yet." I think up another question. "Um… What would've happened had you not been around?"

     She looks sadly at me but with widened eyes as she answers, "Your dad would've spent days screaming as his own immune system would fight it like the worst burn imaginable, and it's doubtful even morphine would work to ease the pain. You must've been furious."

     My lower lip trembles as I say, "That was the maddest I've ever been in my whole life, and I said it was his fault." I start crying.

     She hops up out of the chair and sits next to me to hold me in her arms. "People lose their tempers all the time and say what they don't really mean." She pets my hair.

     "But I still think it's partly his fault," I say, feeling horribly guilty.

     "It may be that it is, but will that stop you from loving him?"

     "No," I answer immediately. My dad has always been there, even if he's been sad and trying to fight it in his own way. I figured that out last year after spending the third night in a row at Aunt Pam's house. He didn't want me to have to see him sad and how he dealt with it. I knew that Daddy still loved me because of how he was when we spent time together but that he needed something to take his mind off what that woman did to him. Ever since then, I've been a lot more patient with Daddy. "And I'd say he's gotten enough punishment for pretty much ignoring that woman after what he'd told me. I'm glad Erin's here."

     Aunt Pam hugs me tighter for a minute before she whispers, "Me too."

     She brought my daddy back, I think and cry more. I was patient with him, but I still missed him, and now he's back.

     "I'm mad at him, but you're right. That doesn't mean I don't love him. I'm mad, but you can't change the past, so I've gotta get past it," I tell her, thinking aloud.

     "You're wise beyond your years," she says thoughtfully.

     "I grew up a lot today, I think." I suddenly remember Todd. I guess that was my first kiss. And my second.

     I quickly sit up more and look around Aunt Pam for the necklace where I'd dropped it on the floor. I don't immediately see it, so I get up and go look around.

     "What is it?" Aunt Pam asks.

     "The necklace. It's gone," I say, feeling melancholy. He must've picked it up and taken it.

     "Aren't you wearing it?" Aunt Pam asks and points to the necklace around my neck.

     "Oh yeah," I lie like I'd forgotten, not wanting to tell her what happened. My shoulders slump, and I say, "I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed now."

     "We'll talk more later, okay? I'll let all this soak in for now," she says and gives me a hug before kissing my forehead.

     "Okay," I say, nodding my head. She leaves the room to probably go and check on Daddy again.

     Once I've been in bed a while, Daddy walks in.

     I sit straight up and start immediately apologizing. "Daddy! I'm sorry! I didn't know! I was mad, but I didn't mean to hurt you! It's not all your fault! I'm so sorry!"

     "Shh!" he says and pulls me across his lap. I cry and hug him back. "I know, sweetheart. You think I'm the first parent that's gotten that accusation from their child before? Nope," he tells me, saying the 'nope' like Uncle Jesse would. "And I know you didn't mean to do that. I tried to tell you that before, but I was too exhausted."

     "Your hands are cold," I state, finding that weird.

     "Are they? That's what Erin said too," he muses.

     "Is she okay?" I ask, realizing I hadn't wondered that yet.

     "She's a little shell-shocked, but I think, I hope, that she'll be okay."

     "So, she knows," I state in a questioning way.

     "Yes," he answers.

     "Do you think she'll be afraid of me now?"

     "No, not unless you give her reason to be. Will you?"

     "No, but what if I do something on accident again?" I feel like a ticking time bomb.

     "Aunt Pam and Aunt Lynne will help with that. I wish I could," he tells me wistfully. "Don't worry." He reaches up with his ice-cold hand and strokes my cheek.

     "Daddy, give me your hands. They're freezing." I ask, and he does. I stand up off the bed for better balance as I hold them. They don't look blue. They're cold enough that they might be blue, but they look normal.

     "Why are they like this?"

     "I suspect it's a leftover from what Aunt Pam did. It'll probably go back to normal after a while," he answers while I keep looking at his hands.

     Could I? I think in regards to a quick thought that I might be able to fix it if I just used a tiny bit of whatever I did earlier. But what if I just hurt him again?

     Well, I'm not angry. He just needs warming up. These cold hands bother me. It's not right.

     I close my eyes and imagine my hands getting really hot, and they do.

     "What are you doing?" Daddy asks, surprised. "Your hands are very hot all of a sudden." He pulls his hands away.

     "Let me try something." He won't trust me.

     Daddy takes a deep breath and gives me his hands, and I smile happily.

     I close my eyes and imagine my hands getting really hot again. Then, I imagine that heat slowly going into Daddy's hands. This is scary, and I worry I'm just crazy and pretending. I keep going anyway, and Daddy's hands return to normal. I lessen what I want to go into him, but his hands start getting hotter anyway. Opening my eyes wide, I completely stop trying to warm his hands up, but they still get hotter. They're not burning me… yet.

     "Do you feel that?" I ask and hope he knows what I'm talking about because I have no idea how I could describe it to him.

     His brows come together like he doesn't want to say what he's thinking. Suddenly, an electrical zap comes between our hands, and we both pull away at the same time.

     "Did I hurt you?" I ask, extremely worried.

     "No, but I did feel something besides your hands getting hot and besides the shock. How did you do that?"

     "I don't know," I answer. "I'd stopped what I was doing when the zap happened. I think anyway."

     Daddy gives me an 'I have no idea' almost-grin. "Do my hands still feel cold?" he asks and puts the backs of his fingers against my throat.

     "No," I say with a smile. "I destroyed the little bit of ice still left in your hands."

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That whole "black, red, white" thing isn't my idea, far from it. But, I decided to use it because it'll work for me. I personally got that from the Dragonlance series of books that I read as a teen, but I've also seen it in the Final Fantasy stuff.