A rumble of thunder woke me. I was promptly upset by the fact that I had fallen asleep at all, but that thought didn’t make it very far, because I was struck by the feeling of just how cold and heavy I felt. The blankets I had curled around were all soaked through. Another blanket had materialized over my back, and that was wet too. The fire was still burning on the hearth, but I hadn’t a doubt in my mind that hours had passed. I shivered.
There was movement from the kitchen. Soryya was talking to her daughter. Pots and pans clattered about. Something sizzled over a hot flame. What meal were they making, I wondered?
And then I looked down to find a plate of toast, sausage, and eggs at my feet. I reached for it, but stopped with a shudder to look back at the room behind me. I was alone, but certainly didn’t feel that way. Having slept the night in someone else’s home felt… discomforting. We had all come to seek shelter and warmth under the same roof. It was a feeling of having broken bread with them, of trusting one another enough to render ourselves unconscious in the others’ presence. It was a feeling so much more profound than sitting at their table, watching them eat. More profound, even, than helping with chores or looking after the children. Somehow, I had landed one part of one foot inside this family unit. I didn’t like it.
I picked up the plate and started for the door, only to stop when a fork of lightning preceded a whipcrack of thunder. I raised one soggy arm to nudge aside the curtains and look out at a veritable mess of rain. It wasn’t particularly misty, but the rain was falling so hard as to render the world a shade of grey. Rivulets of water cut through the soil and ran along the sides of the road. What ferns and bushes I could see positively sagged with wetness. There was no way in the world I could go back out there.
One sweeping glance of the room, and I took the plate with me into the bathroom. Closed the door. Locked it. Double-checked the lock. Only then did I liberate myself from my soaked garments. It was such a peculiar relief. As much as I dreaded being without them, I finally stood a chance at drying off. My shaky limbs deposited me on the floor --immediately in front of the door, just in case-- and I dragged the dish over to eat.
I was still cold, still exhausted, still heavy even after the meal. Rainwater has a way of completely sapping your energy if you aren’t careful. It scrubs surfaces clean of defining textures, wears away even solid rock into something flat and lacking in character. I was the rock this time. Even so, I forced my limbs to move and haul my gear back on before emerging with the polished plate. I moved to the doorway to the kitchen.
The young girl and her mother were sitting at a tiny table in the corner eating breakfast. The child looked to be around thirteen or fourteen, with the same pinecone-brown eyes as her mother if still with the spark of youth in the way they took in the room around her. Those eyes were quick to spot me, and she promptly put down her fork. “He came out!”
You would have thought she had cried wolf with how fast Soryya spun around. I started to shrink back, but was surprised to find how much effort that actually took and almost stumbled. As promised, I hadn’t crossed the threshold into the other room. But I ducked my head and held up the plate.
Soryya eyed me for a moment. She still wasn’t sure what to make of me. “Do you want more?”
Yes I did, but I shook my head no. If I was to persuade these people to let me stay until the soul-sucking rain stopped, I had to keep my footprint as small as possible. Ideally, they would forget I was there altogether.
She rose to take the plate from me with a disapproving look for my damp garments. “Tam set out some pajamas by the fire for you. You should wear those while your coat and…” She looked at my mask. “...and such dry out.”
Rather than argue the point --no friction, no friction-- I just held up my hands and backed away into the living room again. She leaned after to frown all sorts of dubiousness at me as I poked at the fire, pushed the wet blankets aside, and proceeded to sprawl out on my back in front of the fireplace. The fire would dry me out eventually. I just had to be patient and not get too bothered by how much I was shivering. I heard her footsteps retreat into the kitchen a short while later.
I wanted to doze off until my body felt right again, but I was too cold for it. I wound up listening to Soryya and her daughter move about the kitchen. After a time, the girl emerged and paused a moment to look at me before scampering away up the stairs. Every now and then Soryya peeked out at me, then tsked under her breath and withdrew again.
I was so entranced by the sound of footsteps, a kitchen knife chopping something, the crackling fire, the rumbling fire, that the front door creaking open jarred me. I jerked up onto an elbow, then was abruptly seized by a shiver simultaneous with my limbs feeling like they were trying to melt into the floor. My head wobbled as I looked up at the man --Tam-- kicking off his boots and peeling off his coat. As he did so, he looked right at me and said,
“Jester.”
My wobbling stilled.
“That’s your name, is it?”
I stared.
He hung up his coat and rubbed some warmth into his arms before picking up the sack he had brought in. “Ginger down at the store says she knows you from Glazielle, up in the mountains?”
I was too muddled to reply. As it turned out, not only were my limbs liquifying, but my mind had gone to mud as well.
“Well, she told me you’re harmless if a bit odd. Odd is an understatement, huh? ....Did you, ah, get some food?”
I think I nodded, but my thoughts were bogged down in puzzled quicksand. The pet-name had followed me here. To hear it again was both familiar and strange, like returning to the place you had grown up only to find that every thing was smaller and different. No-- More like discovering that a stalker had managed to follow me to my new safehouse. Safehouse. It’s not mine. It’s not safe. It’s not my house.
“Are you… alright? Je-- uh, Jester?”
Without realizing it, I had tipped forward so that I was propped on both arms, hanging my head with the effort of simply thinking. It wasn’t just me that was cold: my bones were cold. It was agonizing, and draining, and between that and hearing that they knew-- they knew me, I was struggling to tell up from down from sideways.
He cursed and swept over to clasp my shoulder --and let go again. “Gods, you’re absolutely soaked. Why haven’t you changed?” And when I didn’t answer, “Shoot. Okay. If we draw a bath for you, will you at least sit in it? Nice’n warm…” And when I didn’t answer, “Shoot. Okay. I’m gonna go do that. Soryya? Can you put a kettle on, please?”
In his wake, I found myself sagging the rest of the way forward to prop my forehead on a fist. This: this is what rain does to you if you let it.
He had to help me to my feet, and even then I hunched and tried to curl in on myself, teeth chattering. I watched my hand quake uncontrollably with a distracted fascination as we shuffled over to the bathroom with the pool of steam that I couldn’t feel through my soaked shell. Once we were there, he closed the door and pulled up on my mask. The straps that came down from it and looped around my neck went taut --That’s what drew me out of my daze in a panic. The panic was like stepping on a lone shard of glass in a field of cotton fuzz. It cut deep and sharp and I slapped his arm, shoved him back with enough force that I fell against the opposite wall.
That he had made a startled sound only vaguely registered as I pressed my hands to my mask to make sure it was still there, tugged at my scarf to loosen it, wobbled and shivered. Then I looked up to a look of frightened confusion in his eyes. He had been told that I was harmless, and had only been trying to help, so of course this took him by surprise. The poor man was afraid to make another move.
So I shuddered and slid down to sit on the edge of the tub, batted a hand at the air to dismiss him. I could handle the rest on my own. Without witness.
He gulped and rubbed at his arm. Habit told him to help me, but I wasn’t allowing it. I imagine it was an uncomfortable spot to be in for him. “If you’re sure. Just… holler if-- I mean… Bang on something if you… need something? We can set your clothes by the fire to dry-- No, okay okay, that’s fine. I’m going now.” He locked the door before closing it behind himself, leaving me alone again.
Moving at all took herculean effort, but I knew relief was coming. The door was locked. I had to trust that they wouldn’t bust it down to look in on me. I was at risk of falling terribly ill otherwise --if I hadn’t already. I managed to spread out my garments on the floor and curl up in the tub of water. I was so cold that the water didn’t even feel warm at first --then it felt like it was burning --then it became soothing. I shuddered and shuddered to an almost frantic degree until I just… stopped.
I closed my eyes. I could wait here just a little while longer. Outside, a growl of thunder, reminiscent of a thwarted predator. Just a little while longer. I fell asleep once more.
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