"A leper," Daniel said so quietly I could barely hear him. "I'm sorry, Sir, but we-"
"Please, come in. You must be freezing!" I interrupted my husband. I led him into the warmth of our apartment. I had a weakness for people in need, especially those cursed with any kind of sicknesses. Their condition wasn't their fault and their insufficient funds for treatment certainly wasn't either.
The leper walked in, gratefully saying, "Thank you. Thank you very much." The raspy voice left no hints to gender.
Walking space was limited in our little apartment. The presence of another made it feel even smaller. Suddenly, Mother's snoring was irritating. The leper gave off an air that he was too important for us. It was as if we were insufficient. I shuddered. Why did he make me feel like that?
I led our guest to our dirty couch, and added one more log to the fireplace. Hopefully, it'd liven up the room. Daniel kept his distance, leaning against the kitchen walkway.
"Mae, will you follow me to the kitchen, please?" Waving his hand in a stern movement, it was clear by the scowl on his face that he hated this idea.
"Is there anything you'd like to drink? Are you hungry?" I asked our guest. I refused to forget my manners to never let a visitor be hungry or parched. The leper lifted his head to meet my gaze wearily. There was a look of desperation in his captivating eyes. They were pale blue with a hint of nerve damage, showing in the faint callouses covering them. It left me wondering if the leper could see.
"I'm starving. May I please have something to eat?" His voice was soft enough to be female, the curious question still ate at me.
"Not a problem." I smiled, hoping the burden on his shoulders lessens. I disappeared into the kitchen with my husband at my heels, sending me a disapproving glare. "What?" My shoulders tensed into a small shrug.
"Seriously? Are you trying to get us infected?" His voice rose and I shushed him quickly. I didn't want our guest to hear us. "I can't turn him down. He needs our help!"
"You're the only person crazy enough to let a sick person into her own home."
"We won't get sick, Daniel!"
"And you're positive of this, how?"
"I feel that the goddess has blessed us with healthy lives." I smiled. I may not have been as religious as my mother, but I used my religion to help convince Daniel.
"You're confidence stems from a feeling?" Daniel crossed his arms and smirked. I knew that look. He thought he had me caught in some kind of mind game.
"It's not just a feeling. I pray every day that our health never declines. The Goddessa is merciful. I believe she hears me. Also, the moon is full tonight, a sure sign that the Goddessa is watching." I said with confidence as I lied. It was snowing, there wasn't a moon in sight. I grabbed a glass and filled it with the cleanest water we had. I dug through my shopping basket for a couple pieces of bread and canned butter, preparing a piece for the leper.
"What are you doing?" Daniel demanding, scaring the ability to spread butter out of me. I turned and stared at him, wondering if he knew what he was asking.
"I'm getting our guest something to eat." I gestured to the bread and butter with the knife.
"We don't have enough for him. We only bought enough for the three of us."
"I'll give him my portion."
"Don't do this to me." Daniel's frustration became more noticeable the longer we talked.
"Do what? Help someone in need?"
"No. Don't give some of yours to someone else when we can't afford any more! Then you'll go hungry, and I'll feel awful about it, and end up giving you my food! We can't keep being nice to people. You always say to treat others the way you want to be treated. But tell me, Mae? When has anyone shown kindness to your needs?" Daniel puts all his stress and tension in his shoulders when he was upset. His shoulders rose and fell repeatedly as if he was trying to dispense the pain.
"If you were starving, cold, and sick, you'd want someone to help you." I said.
"No one in their right mind would help me!"
"Daniel, please, understand. I'm trying to be a good person."
Daniel sighed. He motioned for me to leave him be and I turned my back on him, leaving the kitchen. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, but I wanted to help.
I could smell the hint of putrid flesh, and imagined his face disfigured with bubbled sores. My skin crawled, and I glanced at my own arm with paranoia. I half expected to see boils forming. Thankfully, there was nothing.
In the living room, I handed him the glass, and subconsciously attempted to avoid touching his bandaged fingers. The leper picked up a piece of bread and lifted it to his mouth. As he did, he cleared an opening by removing some bandages. I looked closely, squinting and hoping to get a better look as he ate. What I saw, I didn't expect. His dark lips were perfect, moist, and free from any scarring or sign of infection. My stomach turned into knots.
Something wasn't right.
My eyes fell from his perfect mouth to the large basket on the floor. I hadn't noticed it before. I was certain he hadn't carried it in with him. But then again, Daniel and I were so focused on his disease he could have easily snuck it in.
My heart raced, pounding hard in my chest. Air became hard to pull in, my lungs refusing to work. Paranoia slowly drove a knife in my back, sending chills along my spine. I was fearful of what was inside, but the feeling of longing kept tugging at me. I wanted what was in this basket even though I didn't know what lay inside.
"What's in the basket?" I asked, unknowingly saying the words aloud. It wasn't until the leper paused his meal that I realized I said it to him.
"A curse," the leper replied. Regret nestled in my heart at the thought of accepting a curse into our home.
My eyes wandered back to the basket as I barely acknowledged the leper's words. That basket, whatever was inside, emanated a dark aura. Its cold nature twisted through my core almost painfully. "Are you sick because of the contents in that basket?" I emphasize my words carefully, hoping it'll prompt him to explain.
Getting up to light a few more candles calmed the anxiety building in my chest. I used magic to do so, relying on my spell book for each spark of fire. The additional lighting did nothing to help. I felt cold and lost in the darkened room. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
That basket. Whatever was in it wasn't right. It's power was so strong I could feel the burden the leper had been carrying weigh down on me as well. I turned back to the leper, trying to shut him out. A simple question slipped from his mouth, a question I should've been sitting down for.
"Will you help me?" His burden completely pressed on my knees, forcing me to sit. "Your curiosity lures you to the basket, does it not? Do you want to look inside?"
I nodded and stood, legs wobbling with reluctance. The curse looming around the basket lured me to it. It had me entranced, but I still managed to control some of my facilities. I had to be careful. If there was something evil inside, I couldn't touch it. I had read in books the importance of never touching a cursed item. If I did, its evil would transfer onto me. There was no telling what would happen then.
I knew the dangers of trusting a stranger, but my curiosity was overwhelming. I knelt beside the tattered basket. Several dirtied blankets were folded over the object inside. I took an open fold and slowly moved it aside to reveal what lay inside.
Inside the basket was no object. It certainly wasn't evil. It definitely didn't look cursed.
In fact, it wasn't even an it.
It was a child.
"Blessings from Goddessa!" Nothing could've prepared me for a child. Fine hair curled like ocean waves around his sweet face. With trembling fingers, I ran my hand along the side of his head, brushing a mop of silky curls aside revealing pointed ears like an elves. He cooed in response to my touch and my heart melted. He was head-to-toe dirty, certainly not the new baby look I was used to. I checked his little body, examining him carefully. He had no sores. He wasn't infected.
He was so beautiful, captivating beyond belief.
"He doesn't stand a chance of survival. He needs a home, and a mother to love him." My admiration for the baby was interrupted. Did he want me to raise his child, his curse? The heaviness in his body gives away his reluctance to part with the child. Some part of me wanted to say no, to give him his son back. However, I knew better. A child would never survive an Aryon'te winter. "Please… take care of the boy?"
Daniel finally reappeared from the kitchen. His face was carefully composed, but I could see he was still frustrated. I wondered how he would react to the baby.
"What is that?" He pointed at the basket.
Wanting a better look at him, I picked up the infant, and accidentally showed his round bottom to Daniel.
"It's a boy!" I beamed, studying his perfectly chubby face. I rounded the couch to showcase the child to Daniel. "Look at how cute he is! How perfect!" I'm elated. Even I can hear it in my own voice. He was the answer to everything I ever wanted.
"Yes, he's adorable." Daniel's tone was unenthusiastic and skeptical.
"Can we keep him?!" I was acting as if the child was a puppy. Holding him up to Daniel, I hoped the tactic would increase my chances of keeping him.
"What?" He stepped back.
"Daniel, please?"
"Mae, we can't afford it!"
"Mother can watch him as she sells her crotchet! And I can continue working." My words flowed too fast, and I began to stutter. My stuttering turned into a choking sob. "It's my fault I can't have..."
My eyes dropped to the floor. I couldn't look at him. I didn't want to see the pity overtaking his usual sparkle. I brought the child to my bosom, wrapping my arms around him. My mind was made up. Death itself couldn't loosen my grip from the child.
The callouses on Daniel's hand scratched my chin in his attempt to caress. The simple motion was comforting. I caught his gaze reluctantly and found acceptance in pity's wake.
"This is truly what you desire?" The leper asked as he moved for the door. I looked to Daniel for reassurance.
"Yes." Daniel nodded then turned to the leper. "How old is the baby?"
"He is but two solstices old." The leper replied.
"You're just a tiny little guy." I rubbed my nose on the babies. The leper stepped out of our apartment.
"Wait!" I called to him. "You said he's a curse? I want to know why?"
"Power follows this child. And where there is power is someone trying to steal it." And like that, he was gone.
I was conflicted. On one hand, I was elated, over the moon. A child for us to call our own! But on the other hand, the child was a curse according to the leper. I uttered a prayer quickly, hoping I wouldn't regret my choice.
"What are you calling him?" Daniel questioned, drawing my attention away. I stopped for a minute and smiled.
"Dodger. I like the name Dodger."
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