PART SIX:
Home, strange home:
His boys were sitting on the lawn right in front of their brick bungalow when he arrived. The melancholic atmosphere around the young ones was palpable as they both pulled at grass blades and chatted about whatever it was boys their age talked about. The younger one saw him first and let out a loud yelp as he jumped to his feet. The second one followed suit almost immediately. The were shouting, jumping up and down as they both hugged their father. Bronid was glad to be home. Of all the things that scared him when he was in captivity, was the fact that he may never see his sons again. At this moment, he was glad that nightmare never became a reality.
His father hobbled out of the infirmary which was just twenty-feet away from their home, as the noise and commotion of his son's return escalated. There were tears in the old man's eyes as he came closer to his oldest son. His wife came tearing out of the bungalow herself introducing her body to sprints it had never experienced before. Her husband was home. Just as quickly as he had disappeared, he had also reappeared. This was indeed a cause for abandon of all things appropriate and perhaps restraining. No one would judge her for having dropped the wrap that was supposed to be covering her under-skirt. News of Bronid's return spread like a welcome wild-fire. Their beloved healer's son, who was also a healer himself was back home safe and seemingly sound. A town was awoken from a semi-mournful state.
Bronid sat to eat with his family after a long and intense bath. His skin felt quite sore from the vigorous scrubbing it had undergone. As his family chatted excitedly around him, he nibbled at the sumptuous meal before him. It was obvious, the painstaking effort his wife had put into preparing the various dishes now at their disposal. But his stomach needed time to adjust, before it felt normal again. As a healer, he knew that after an extended period of involuntary fasting that was expected. Even more so, was the fact that he understandably kept being interrupted with curiousity laden inquisitions. "So do you remember what caused you to pass out in the first place? A falling nut-shell? Did you trip? What happened?" His younger brother who was a builder asked with the utmost interest. Their world had all but come to a stand still when his brother disappeared. Not so much because it was just about him, But the dread of what the loss was capable of doing to their father. The healer loved all his children equally and was known as a kind man. However, It was no secret that he adored his oldest son and the only one that followed his healing footsteps.
"No Duhan, I do not remember exactly what caused me to pass out. But I am grateful to the people that picked me up and helped me get back on my feet." Bronid struggled not to sound curt, as his boys were watching. But Duhan sniffed at him and continued. "Wow, it took them almost three weeks to get you back on your feet? Why did you not just tell them to drag you back here, so we could take it from there? The whole town was worried sick Bronid!" Bronid clenched his teeth as he tried to respond without seeming as angry as he felt. "Excuse me for not making such flamboyant demands on already helping hands, but they did the best they could!" He was staring down his brother now. "Who is they? Can we at least get to thank them for keeping you as long as they saw fit, while your family pined away in debilitating worry!" Duhan was rising to his feet now in fury. "That would not be necessary, I am here now...." Said Bronid flatly and turned back to his plate, as Duhan glared down angrily at him. "That is okay now boys, stop this foolishness immediately." Their father interjected as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and took a swig from the jug in front of him. "This should be a day of celebration, not fighting. We are all back together again and in one piece." The old man finished with a silent plea in his eyes. The past couple of weeks and its unpredictable excitements had taken a toll on him. "Well celebrate on then, because I am done here!" Shouted Duhan as he stormed out of the room.
Bronid's wife watched silently as her husband uncharacteristically evaded every straight forward question asked him. He also seemed overly irritated and unconcerned about what they might have gone through while he was missing. Maybe it was just the tiredness that could accompany such an ordeal. He had lost a whole lot of weight, and his eyes were sunken. Lost also was that kind and caring sparkle he had in them. Maybe time will heal all, maybe time would fix anything that was broken. She hoped it did. She desperately hoped it did as she turned back to her plate of food.
She found herself rolling down a slope, as she despairingly tried to hold on to something, anything. She screamed out for help as it appeared she was fast approaching a ledge. Suddenly she saw Bronid standing by and heaved a sigh of relief as she reached out her hand for his help. But he was not looking at her, he was holding on to someone. As she rolled closer, it became apparent it was a woman. But she could not see her face. All she saw was how nicely her feet were wrapped.
She woke up abruptly, drenched in her own sweat. Her husband was gone from beside her.
Stolen, sweet then sour:
Tufad the fourth magistrate had learnt the art of looking at his wife while she babbled endlessly and not hear a word she said. They never had any meaningful conversation in their eleven years of marriage. The reason could be that all her talk was either gossip or a complaint, he never felt edified or inspired. Or maybe it was that growing resentment hidden somewhere in his heart.... He had met his wife's older sister at the market place some years ago, as she bought wares with their mother. He had fallen in love almost instantly. Shortly after that encounter, he asked for her hand in marriage and both families were ecstatic as they planned for the future wedding.
One evening as he returned from the palace where he was serving and being tutored for his present position, he saw his now wife who was then the younger sister of his bethrothed crying at the door of his parents hut. He panicked that something had happened to his bethrothed and invited her in to tell him what was wrong. She went in and never left till the next morning and he never did find out why she was crying in the first place. However, shortly after that night. About a month later, he did hear something. Howbeit life altering and sobering. The father of his then bethroted and his one night tryst, showed up with a hunting gun at Tufad's house. He wanted to know why he was engaged to his oldest daughter and had the younger one pregnant. Tufad was forced to marry the pregnant sister two days later.
A daughter was born eight months after the 'crocodile tears' incident. That was their only child. She was a spitting image of her mother which broke Tufad's heart. Sometimes when he looked at her, it felt like reliving a nightmare. She talked like her mother and already had certain mannerisms of hers that made him cringe. Even his wife's habit of sneering at everything he said was already manifesting in his daughter. He was miserable. How long must a man pay for one night of losing caution to the wind, a lifetime?
As he struggled to snap out of his regretful reverie and make sense of what the moving lips in front of him was saying, a hand smacked him right across the head. "Did you hear what I said? I am telling you she rudely snatched the fruit basket from my hand and went to dump it at the back of the servants quarters. Where is the respect? When these servants start harassing the wives of the ruling party, where is the respect?! Tufad! Are you listening to me....?" His wife's shrill voice was as unbearable as always. "I want her gone! Do you hear me? Gone!"
"You want who gone now?" Tufad cut in, as he rubbed the side of his head. "Will you do the chores after you empty the palace of its hardworking servants?" Tufad's irritated tone was thick on his voice. Goodness he could not stand this woman. If he had not commited to serve king and province, he would have killed himself.
"I want that foreign good-for-nothing minion called Debeh gone!" His wife was adamant now.
"You want the queen's personal maid gone?" Tufad was guffawing uncontrollably now.
"Oh but then I forgot, you have always bitten off more than you could chew...." His shoulders were still shaking in laughter as he walked away.
Astral Airways:
Heinous watched with great potency as the target body moved towards its destination. He also had to be sure that his intended host body was ready and aligned. This was big and prize-worthy, and he was not about to let the opportunity slip away from him. The host body had always made themselves available for dark deeds so Heinous knew he could come and go as he pleased. The monitors could never invade anyone who did not want them nor make a knowing or an unknowing pact with them. Everything had a price, some just did not know how steep the cost would be. He made his calculation one last time, then projected himself through the mirror.
Partial Eclipse of the sun:
Debeh was rushing back to the queen's quarters to check on her majesty like she was supposed to. She had overslept beyond the time she had planned to get ready. This was why she never took naps. It made her even more tired than when she did not take any. As she got to the final bend leading to the section of the queen's quarters, she slowed her pace. It was against palace protocols to come before the royals panting and sweating. So she steadied her breath as she tried to compose herself. She never saw it coming, but she felt the brunt of it. She also felt the full impact, when her body hit the ground....
.