pistachio 29 + apple pie 14
Author: Kalei
Story: Of Earth and Man
Title: Pips and Squeaks
Prompts: Pistachio #29 (furry/feathered friends) ; Apple Pie #14 (patter of little feet)
Rating: G
Word Count: 645
Summary: Tara’s mother has a couple of evening visitors…
Notes: This happens right after I Need A Breather.
I don’t know how long I stayed in the forest, but when the half-moon shone brightly against the dark sky I knew it was time to head back home.
A few feet from the door, I could hear my mother talking in the den. That’s strange. She didn’t tell me about any guests coming tonight. Taking care not to make much noise, I walked over to the place where the porch’s railing met the outer wall of the house. Fitting myself in that corner, I took a peek into the nearest window.
Mother was not looking good at all. She’s said something about feeling weak these days, but I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I took a proper look at my mother. She was reclining on the old threadbare sofa, a pillow propped behind her back. Her hair was turning pale yellow. Faint lines took over her skin, reminding me of cracks in tree bark. On top of all that, there was the slightest sensation that she was fading.
I didn’t have much time to think about that, because then I realized that Mother was talking to a squirrel and a bird… inside the den.
This shouldn’t come as a shock, Mother talking to creatures. I mean, she’s a dryad, for crying out loud. But I’ve stopped caring about my mother’s affairs some time ago, and it was strange to see her in such a conversation again. Indoors, nonetheless.
Was my mother so ill that animals were visiting her now?
I strained to catch some words, but all I could hear were squeaks and chirps and Mother’s occasional “Mmm.”
Memories, ever so faint, started flashing through my mind. Sparrows gossiping. Flowers laughing. Trees whispering things to me. When did I stop understanding? With Mother looking so upset, I wish I could make out what the critters were saying. I slumped to my knees in the dirt, my back against the wall.
“Did your mother send you out for a mud bath or something?”
My father stood a few feet away from me, a tired smile on face. He had this way of walking so silently, which is why I hadn’t noticed him coming up the hill to our house.
“I… I can’t understand a word.”
Father’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment. He walked over and took a peek through the window.
“Oh.”
He sat down beside me. Now that he was closer, my nose caught a whiff of apples on him. The effect of a day at the cider mill, perhaps? Or was it actually my mother’s scent?
“I used to understand them, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.” He turned to me, eyes twinkling. “That was before you decided that you wanted a normal life.”
I swallowed. “Did I really say that?”
Father let out a chuckle. “Sooner or later, we knew you’d realize how different you are from other kids. Just so happens that the realization came sooner than we expected.”
We were silent for a while. The conversation in the den continued in the background.
“Do you think I can still… you know, get that ability back?”
I felt my father’s strong arm around my shoulders as he planted a kiss on top of my head. “I don’t think you really lost it. Maybe you just stopped listening.”
There was a moment of scurrying, and then the squirrel and the bird appeared, perched on the wooden railing. Their tiny eyes looked in our direction for a second. I felt like they were asking me for help.
“’Evening, Nick. ‘Evening, Lottie,” said my father, nodding at the two creatures.
My mouth dropped open. “You know them?”
“Sure do. Good friends of your mother’s.”
The squirrel squeaked and the bird chirped in reply, then they took off for the forest. I stared after them until their shapes were lost in the night.