Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Zephyr

The last of these particular stories. This one is definetly one of my favourites, and I plan on trying to see if I can take it further, perhaps turn it into a novel or something. It's there, in the back of my head still, so I figure there's more to tell. Maybe some of the other characters from these stories will turn up too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this. Tomorrow will be something different. Comments and feedback are the best. I just wish that there was a way to reply to the comments properly.  I also apologize for the uncoloured picture. I have two coloured versions kicking around somewhere, but I don't know where they are.

          
         The slight breeze gently stirred the dust from the ground, circling the ankles of the two girls who traveled barefoot down the path.  They were almost identical, both with long brown hair, both sunburned and freckled, both wearing similar expressions of guilt and mirth.
          “We should go back to school.”  One of the girls said. She was only distinguishable from the other by her more organized appearance, and her red and yellow-gold beaded bracelet.
          “Don’t be a wuss.” The other replied dismissively. She wore a similar bracelet, but without any tangible pattern or colour scheme. “We’re not missing anything.” She grimaced and spat at the side of the road. “Them schools don’t teach us nothing anyhow.”
          “Oh, stop it, Gen,” The neat one cried. “You know your mama doesn’t want you speaking like that.  She taught you to speak properly.”
          Gen glared at her, her expression that of a Queen who has just noticed that her favourite courtier didn’t follow the laws she had set down – Angry, surprised, and a little sad. “Jilly, we are having an adventure.” She said flatly. “And on this adventure, I’m gonna to speak any goddamn way I like.”
          Jilly nodded solemnly. “But aren’t we just going down to the creek? That’s hardly an adventure. We go there all the time.”
          “True enough.” Gen shrugged. “And a good idea to boot. Let’s get ourselves off the road then.” She spotted a path that branched off of the main road and dashed down it, leaving Jilly standing alone on the road.
          “Gen, we’re not even wearing shoes!” She cried.  Jilly looked up and down the road and then at the path again. “Gen, come back!”
          Gen reappeared on the little path. “Don’t be a wuss, Jilly,” She scolded. “Hurry up.”
          Jilly sighed and stepped down onto the path. “Do you even know where this path leads?” She asked.
          A strange light appeared in Gen’s dark eyes. “Yeah,” She said simply, gabbing Jilly’s hand. “I seen it, and it’s beautiful. You’ll like it.” She started to walk, eager to get to their destination, but Jilly dug in her heels, resisting her cousin’s pull. Gen looked back at her, not comprehending Jilly’s reluctance,
Jilly frowned. “Genevieve Margot King, you tell me what’s down that path,” She ordered looking fierce.
Gen sighed and leaned towards Jilly. “Fairies,” She whispered.
Jilly gave her cousin a suspicious look. “You haven’t been drinking Granny’s homemade cider again, have you?”
Gen rolled her eyes. “Course not. This is real.”
“Gen, you’re a bit old to believe in fairies,” Jilly said gently.
“I didn’t believe in ‘em till I saw ‘em with my own two eyes,” Gen retorted angrily. “And maybe you don’t believe in ‘em, but I don’t lie to you about anything. They’re there. They’re real.” She gave Jilly a wild look. “I’ve talked to them a bunch of times. They like me.  I thought they’d like you too.” She hesitated a moment, a frown knitting her eyebrows together. “I thought you believed in spiritual stuff. Fairies, even.”
“That doesn’t mean I want anything to do with them.” Jilly countered. “They’re not nice, Gen. They don’t think the way we do.” The breeze sprang up again, pushing them away from the road. “That’s a west wind,” She commented. “Grandmother says that strange things happen when a zephyr’s in the air.”
“We have the same Granny, and she’s never said that.” Gen gave Jilly an impatient look.
“Not Granny. My other Grandmother.”
“The crazy one who lives in the boonies?”
Jilly nodded.” She knows about stuff like that.”
“One of them’s named Zephyr,” Gen mused. “Maybe you’re right. Not today.” She sent a wistful look down the path, and then turned towards the road, decisively. “We’re still going to the creek though. You can’t get out of that.“ She laughed and danced back up the path.
Jilly. The wind called mournfully. Jilly.
“No.” Jilly said, her voice firm.
“What d’ya mean, no?” Gen asked, looking confused. “We planned to go there all along.”
“Not that,” Jilly explained. “Let’s not come back, not today, not ever. Spirit people don’t play nice. We’d just be play toys to them.”
Gen stared at her cousin, feeling as though her world had suddenly shrunk. Jilly was right though. The fairies were different. They looked at Gen and saw something more like a doll than a person. “I guess you’re right.” She admitted. “I promise I won’t come back today or any day, unless we agree together to go.”
Jilly nodded and repeated her words. They shook hands on it, and Jilly removed her bright red bracelet. “We’ll seal it by swapping bracelets.” She suggested. “And if one of us wants to break the promise, we have to return the bracelet. That way we can convince each other not to do it. A final safety.”
Gen removed her own bracelet, a zany collection of multi-coloured beads. They swapped them with an odd sense of ceremony. “Let’s get going to the creek.” She said. “We’re wasting daylight. Unless, of course, you want to go back to school?” She gave Jilly a saucy look and danced back up the path to the road.
Jilly stood where she was for a moment. The wind still pulled at her hair and clothes, trying to bring her away from the road. Then she turned and followed Gen to the road. “School isn’t worth it anyway,” She told Gen, which earned her a grin from her cousin.
“You see?” Gen laughed, punching Jilly playfully on the shoulder. “I am getting through to you.”
Jilly laughed too, trying to shake off the strange sense that they being watched. She followed her cousin away from the little path through the trees. It was probably just her imagination when the wind called her name anyway.

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