The Doldrums, then the Promise of Wind

Scene 1, Act 3

The Doldrums...

 ...then the Promise of Wind

The morning had ended rather uneventfully, his erratic mother had just finished ironing out Maricella's clothing, which involved a simple blouse, a skirt that came just above her knee and her thigh high stockings. She looked deceptively girlish, but he knew better.

As they stepped outside, the morning air promised of the heat to come and with it a stark realization.

She terrified him.

Even as they walked down the narrow walkway unto the sidewalk, the full scope of the terror within him, materialized. How he manage to keep himself from breaking into a dead run, was beyond him.

Even as Sapphire had gone back to bed; she had made Christopher promise that he and Maricella would come back after their job interviews were done. For Christopher, lying to Sapphire was never part of the plan, though at the moment it seemed necessary, the effects of such a lie were starting to tear him up inside.

"I'm surprised you are even able to stand after last night, Christopher."

He turned to look at her, as he narrowed his eyes slightly against the bright morning sun. His voice had a slight tremble as he replied,

"How were you able to get around the fact that my clothing was totally ruined?"

She turned to look at him and smiled at him rather lightly,

"I told them I spilled some coffee on you that I would take care of the laundering."

Swallowing down his fear, he spoke up once again,

"Are you going do anything to harm them?"

She only smiled, that predatory smile of hers, but it was only for a moment, as her eyes and features took on a more serious quality. After a moment, she even looked up to the sky before answering,

"You'd be surprised what I can and cannot do. Especially concerning your family."

 Before Christopher could ask her for clarification, she turned and smiled again, the same smile she favored him with after having a good wholehearted laugh in the kitchen that morning,

"Though your mother kept talking about cinnamon schnapps, which I found highly amusing."

This confused Christopher slightly.

"Why would you find that amusing? After you kissed me, I'm surprised she couldn't smell the sweetness of honey as well."

This brought a curious look to her features, her eyebrow lifted only slightly,

"Oooh? Honey, you say?"

"Yes! Cinnamon and honey, which I was devoid of partaking this morning…"

The look she gave him was one of high amusement, but before she could say anything to Christopher, he realized what he just said, and quickly clarified,

"Uh, N-Not you… I mean breakfast, honeyed toast and cinnamon coffee."

As if on cue, his stomach growled in protest.

She burst into a deep, deep laughter! 

God, why was she affecting him in such polar opposite ways! First, I'm ready to run away from her, now I ready fall into her arms!

 "We'll find something to eat on our way to the interview, but we'll have to make it something we can eat once we reach our destination."

Why is she playing at this interview thing even now? Seriously.

Her tone of voice had a slight quality change; it was less lighthearted, more the serious voice he remembered in this half-forgotten dream.

"Simply put Christopher, we are required to make an appearance now that I'm official sponsoring you."

He stopped, as he formed a frown, a rather deep frown, which was directed at her,

"What the hell are you going on about? Sponsor me? For what?"

She looked at him and replied rather plainly,

"Christopher, your number was up or should I say, is up. You should be dead and gone by now. Nothing should have interfered with your death, but what should have been nothing more than an accident was instead turned into you becoming a pin cushion. This changed your fate, a changed brought on by external sources that should have left well enough alone."

Maricella took a breath, exhaling before continuing onward,

"I'm sponsoring you being alive right now and for that we need to interview our compatibility and your new," as she then threw some air quotes, which suddenly reminded him of his sister's action earlier that day, "career path."

If Christopher had wished for confusion, it was eluding him now. Perhaps it was more a wishful thinking, that solace that comes from confusion, or perhaps even ignorance. By now the trauma of it all was becoming an increasingly distant memory. A trauma that shouldn't fade was quickly making its retreat. Curious that he felt worse about lying to his sister, yet even that worry that expended his precious energy had been for naught.

Was he always like this? Able to push aside what should have been and accept what is? Or was it just a contradiction of his rational and irrational mind trying to make sense of everything? A mechanism to cope in this short amount of time.

Whatever the cause, she was looking at him. Watching him and more specifically watching his reaction.

He knew this to be of critical importance.

I know this is important… very important… It's not that I don't trust you, other than the fact that I'm oddly frightened of you. You saved my life, but there is something there... something...

"...we share that's deeper now. I know." 

Maricella looked relieved, as she started walking again. Christopher followed slightly behind her once more.

They stopped at a convenience store for something that could be considered breakfast. Christopher had stopped asking questions by now, content to mull over what information he already had rattling around in his head. The problem was simple, he should have died, but for some reason something interfered with his death. The question of how Maricella happened upon him was irrelevant at this point, since it could keep until another more important question was answered.

"So this is the ultimate job interview? Answer correctly or you die?" 

"In a nutshell, yes. You die and I am cast out for interfering with your Thread."

"Wait? Thread? Cast out??"

"Hmm. The interview is to decide if my actions are a serious threat to our by-laws. To determine if the relevance to my actions require punishment; they will want to know what attacked you, how I came about to finding you and why I decided to make you part of my Thread, or Fate."

"Come to think of it, I'd like to know the answer to those questions as well."

She only smirked, but never turned to offer him an answer.

Silence once again filled between them. He knew that she required this quiet between them. Even predators required a time of silence between kills it would seem.

It wasn't long before the heat of the day started to assault them. Hunger was starting to become a persistent issue for him, which was making him slightly annoyed. They had been walking for what seemed hours. The entire time, she had kept mostly to herself.

Christopher's mind wandered. So much had happened since that night and there was the problem. He couldn't remember anything between the hours that should have been most pertinent. 

He remembered leaving the house, finishing up his job hunt. He had decided on burning time by watching a movie. From the time between leaving the movie theater and him lying face up in a pool of his own blood was a complete an utter blank.

This worried him and the 'what if's' started to rise up from within him. 

The sweat on his brow had become an issue with him suddenly. 

Why is it so bloody hot?!

"How much longer is it?"

"We are almost there, Christopher." 

She turned to look at him for only a moment, but said nothing else.

He sighed.

What else could he do?

Hunger, pain, sweat

…what did it all really mean in the end? 

It means you're alive, Christopher.

Looking at her, he knew in the deepest part of him that this woman, this creature to be incredible dangerous. He felt it in the very marrow of his bones. The smile, the laugh as she hovered over him was nothing compared to the stark terror he felt that moment leaving his home alone with her. 

Yet, with all of that present, he felt an undeniable attraction to her, and why shouldn't he? She was beautiful, with her emerald green eyes that contained a mixture of misty grey. Hair the color of harvest ready wheat, the length and wave of which reminded him of a field of the stuff swaying in the wind. Athletic and confident, well propositioned for a woman of a height which he reckoned to be around five eight. With a smile that brought a quickening of blood within his veins and skin gently kissed by the sun.

He felt lucky, in all honesty. She had saved him, for no other reason that his own merit. This woman was not a creature of pity, there was a reason for this union and whatever that reason was he had yet to find out.

Suddenly, out of the heat and sun and walking, Maricella and Christopher reached a small park. He heard her exhale, just as a cool wind picked up and started to slowly wipe away the oppressive heat. 

She turned and smiled at him, this time it wasn't a smile of hunger, but of thanks.

"I guess it's not your time, Christopher. I'm happy, I truly am."

Christopher looked at her with slight confusion to her statement, but the sudden appearance of the park, of actual wind blowing out of the clear blue. Looking around he found that they were standing in a park not two miles from his home.

"What just happened?"

She smiled again, offering him the bag of goodies,

"We were interviewed, Christopher. You passed without any provocation and my own punishment was remanded. We are free to pursue our new Thread together, our choices for which path to follow will be coming with a representative of this new world you've been enlisted into by my own will and your merit."

Finding a seat, he took it, looking up at her in a slight daze.

Christopher now fully appreciated the fact that she had actually been tense. Worried of revealing too much, her silence was an attempt to preventing herself from betraying her anxiety.

"You look like you've just dodge a speeding bus, Maricella."

She smiled, it was such a small, thankful sort of smile that filled his heart immediately. 

What Christopher didn't realize, was that this was in fact, the first time that he had called her by name.

"I did, Christopher. I truly did. So did your mother and sister, if you had failed the test. I would have been compelled to execute my punishment."

Fear suddenly gripped him, he didn't want to ask, but he couldn't help himself,

"What was your punishment?"

She sat down next to him and looked up; he could see sadness, such a deep sadness from those light emerald, misty grey eyes he would have never thought possible,

"Your life and theirs would have been forfeit." 

Shock, outrage, hate… any number of these things should have been filling him right about now, but instead,

"Here," he offered her the still wrapped breakfast burrito, "Let's eat and be happy that we've managed to survive another day."

She turned to look at him, incredulous. With unbelieving eyes, she took the food into her hand and looked at him as he offers her a bottle of green tea. He had started to open his own bottle, when he happened to glance at her and smiled a bit sheepishly,

"Maricella, you saved my life at the cost of something unknown. That you like my mother and sister comforts me. I'd rather be the servant in a house of Lions, than the prey outside."

She smiled at this. Looking down at the bottle and opening the top. She took a drink and exhaled happily.

He called me a lion…

She narrowed her eyes, her pupils dilated. 

She was very pleased.