Hope stirred in his chest, poking out its timid head. Just as quickly, it was crushed by another thought: what if Peony was just like Gwendolyn? But if he went back home, it would be an endless life of being his mother’s personal executioner. He had to try, try something that would take him away.
And what if this way is worse, Keo? he questioned himself.
Then at least we can say we tried.
He locked his eyes with her green ones once more, struck anew by the familiarity he always felt when looking at her. Before he could haul the words back into his wooden throat, they slipped out. “Lead me anywhere, Flower.” Why had he said that?
Instead of frowning at him as he expected, she bowed her head and grinned. “That was just the answer I was searching for.” Not leaving Keo a chance to reply to her odd response, she spoke again, “Are you afraid of water? Since your wood might get wet.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m afraid of.” A sharp pain struck his stomach where a new small fissure had formed. He knew exactly what taunted him when he was asleep and when he was awake. Gwendolyn.
Pressing his hand to his abdomen, he followed Peony down the lengthy dirt path that led to the sea. The short journey didn’t take that long, because the sky still burned with stars and darkness when they arrived. He kept thinking that his body would turn around and go back home, but it never did. His mother must have been too far or Peony’s enchantment really was strong.
The sand made soft crunching noises as he stayed close to Peony. She pointed straight ahead and he squinted his eyes to try and see in the dark. As he crept closer, he could see a hidden outline of a raft with a large rectangular sail and human-made tree logs.
“I don’t think we will get far in this,” he said, stepping to the raft and running his hand against the rickety bottom.
“Keo, how do you think I made it here? It will sail for as long as I command it to.” If it were possible, he might have believed that boats had hair to command too, just as she could command him by his strands. He wanted to ask, but he kept his snide comments to himself.
Gripping the back of the raft, he helped Peony push it toward the sea. He hopped on right as it met the small crash of waves. Peony continued to shove it more before finally climbing onto the raft, the bottom portion of her clothing soaking wet. She didn’t complain, only stared up at the night sky.
After taking a seat, she reached around and dug through a pack hidden inside a small barrel connected to the pole of the sail.
“Why are you doing this?” Keo finally asked when neither of them laid down to rest. “You know nothing about me, yet you aren’t even frightened that I’m alive.”
“Why don’t you ask me this same question when we make it to the next shore.” She shrugged as if that answered everything, when in fact, it only made his head fill with even more questions. Instead of saying anything else, Peony focused on lighting a lantern that she had taken out of her bag earlier.
They sailed farther out into the dark, the lantern staying lit between the two of them. Closing his eyes, Keo leaned to the side and tried not to think of what he was leaving behind—which was nothing—but that was all that made up his dreams when he drifted off.
One memory, in particular, rose among all others, playing in his dream, turning it into a nightmare.
Giovanni had short-changed Gwendolyn money and refused to pay her the rest, said her yarn was already fraying. Keo’s mother grew furious, demanding retribution from Keo. That evening, she sent her marionette—executioner—to take care of Giovanni.
Inside the spacious cottage, it reeked of too-much wine from the bottles Giovanni had spent all his money on. As soon as Keo’s ax struck the wood, he knew Giovanni had awoken. He clumsily came to the door with a shotgun in his hand.
Giovanni was too drunk, and Keo was too fast. He slammed the ax against Giovanni’s neck and it easily sliced through. Blood flowed toward the surface as the body plummeted to the floor with a loud thump. Arms and legs came next. Slice. Slice. Slice. And slice. Each piece lay a few inches from the body where they were once connected.
Unwillingly, Keo placed the head the same way as if leaving it in a decoration for all to find. All the people he had killed, his enchanted body would leave them this way.
The yells coming from Keo never once stopped.
After standing back up from positioning the body parts, Keo came back to himself. His arms, chest, and face were splashed with scarlet, his hands shaking as he held the ax. He took off on a hard sprint, the opposite direction from his mother’s. But the enchantment she had placed on him called him back, causing his feet to lock onto the dirt path. Then, inch by inch, step by step, he was forced to turn around and head home—waiting to perform his next task.
Keo’s eyes cracked open to morning and a headful of short red curls. He sat up and stared out at the sea, away from Peony’s alluring face. The water was no longer blue, but a dark sparkling purple. He squinted his eyes to get a better look. It wasn’t the sea—it was sand. A booming splash sounded from behind him and he twisted his neck in the sea’s direction. Out in the distance, protruding from the middle of the sea, was a massive aquamarine beast poking its head above the water.
“That’s Charlie.” Peony leaped from the raft down to the lavender sand. “He protects our home now.”
Around him, the shore itself seemed to breathe and beat its heart as he jumped to the ground beside her. Peony startled Keo by grabbing his hand and yanking him toward rows of tall, thick trees with fat branches and leaves as long as his entire body. To his left were various shades of flowers, some square, others oval, broad, thin, all kinds of assortments. His eyes widened as far as they could go when a pale-yellow flower withdrew itself from the ground, like a sword coming out of its sheath. It diligently walked toward him and bowed.
“Welcome back.” The petals moved to form the words.
“What?” Keo’s hands shook and he tried to remain calm. While the uniqueness of the situation frightened him, he also recalled it was probably what most humans would feel if they met him—a boy made from wood. Still, the talking plant would take some getting used to. But at that moment, it frightened him all the same.
With a resigned sigh, Peony reached for his wrist. “I was hoping you would remember, but I don’t think you ever will.” She placed her hands on his cheeks and made him look at her. “Gwendolyn took your memories, and she took you away from us—from me.”
Despite Keo’s tongue being made from wood, it felt drier than normal, and he feared that this was all a dream. Perhaps he wanted it to be, or perhaps he didn’t.
“I wish I could show you my memories but I can’t even do that...” Peony took a step back and closed her eyes. Bright blue wings sprouted from her back, ripping the cloth of her shirt. Her short red curls framing her oval face turned to a glossy black, and her eyes changed into the blue of the brightest sky. Even her skin tone gave off a slight pale shade of blue. Peony’s face appeared different yet not, still ugly, still beautiful, still imperfectly perfect. A face that could be anything he wished.
“How?” Keo asked, throat dry.
“Gwendolyn, my real mother, not yours, was the ruler here. She created all of us, but this place had had enough of her tyranny and made me its queen. I didn’t want it, but you, you were my friend—more than that … you would call me your flower. You worked for her but chose me instead. My real name is Lily, but I changed it to Peony when I disguised myself.”
Keo’s thoughts shuffled back and forth. He couldn’t remember that, none of it. Peony gently placed her hands against his while she smiled, and he pulled away. “The only thing I remember is being a murderer.”
Her smile slipped away. “But that isn’t you, Keo. You’re sweet, and you’re kind, and sometimes you do have a bad habit of lying, but only because you don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.”
Laughter bubbled up his throat and came out in maddened waves. “Sweet? Nice? I’m not
hing of the kind.”
“Do you want to go back to Gwendolyn?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.
He stared up at the thick trees, then down at the flowers watching him. His eyes were drawn again to the girl he had grown to possibly love just by observing her in his home, the girl who wasn’t a girl at all but a blue fairy.
“I don’t want to go back home…” This wasn’t his home either, not if he couldn’t remember anything or anyone. He needed time to think, he needed—Keo’s body froze and his arms and legs refused to move.
“Keo?” Peony asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “Keo?” she shouted and shook his shoulders.
Unable to answer, he turned around and took off in a jog back to the sea. Keo screamed vehemently inside his head to stop, but he couldn’t control it. With his whole being, he wanted to lash out because he knew Gwendolyn had already caught up and found them. He didn’t know if Peony had tried to stop him by using her enchanted cluster of his hair, but even if she had, it wasn’t working.
Once he exited out from the trees’ gargantuan leaves, he could see out into the middle of the sea. Gwendolyn stood on a raft similar to the one that he and Peony had sailed on. Her gray hair blew in the wind as she shifted closer, drawing him nearer, until he met where the sea began.
“Time to go home, Keo!” Gwendolyn shouted.
“He can choose where he wants to go,” Peony snapped back, grabbing his wrist.
Keo could do nothing, his body wouldn’t go anywhere. It patiently waited for Gwendolyn—who was not his real mother—to come and get him.
“I should have known it was you, Lily,” Gwendolyn spat. “You took my land, you took my worker, you took everything!”
“I didn’t! The land chose me because you mistreated it—Keo chose me because I loved him!” He could hear the desperation and the sadness in Peony’s voice. She loved him?
Keo’s legs moved into the water toward Gwendolyn. “Don’t listen to her!” Peony called to him, and then toward Gwendolyn she shouted, “Stop, you’re going to kill him!”
“That’s the only choice now, isn’t it?” Gwendolyn seethed. “I always knew he’d be perfect firewood.”
There was nothing Keo could do to stop anything, and he felt helpless and useless.
Pulling the strength from somewhere, Peony yanked Keo back and knocked him down onto the sand. She let out a loud whistle that penetrated everything with its intensity, as if it had come from not only her but whatever other inhabitants lived on this land.
Keo’s body stood from the ground just in time to see the guardian from the ocean—the one Peony called Charlie—pushing itself upward, jaws unclamping. Trapped inside himself, Keo stared in horrified wonder as the large, deadly beast opened its wide mouth around Gwendolyn’s body. Gwendolyn let out a terrified scream as Charlie’s sharp teeth met her form with a deafening snap, turning the water red as it sank back into the sea, leaving nothing but blood in its wake.
It took a couple moments but then Keo could move his fingertips, his toes, his eyelids, everything. He turned to Peony and stared in awe.
Her large wings flapped behind her back as her hands flew to her mouth. “Do you remember?”
Keo shut the world out, closed his eyes, and thought for himself until he had his answer. He opened his eyelids and shook his head, knowing it would upset her, but he couldn’t lie about this. “No.”
Her shoulders slumped, wings sagged, and she nodded. “As I said, I can’t return your memories, but I now can give you your body back. If you want it?”
“My body? I’m not made of wood?”
She smiled. “No, you never were. You’ve been gone a year, and I’m sure Gwendolyn fed you lies about other things that we will have to discuss.”
He nodded, willing to rid himself of the shell that was truly Gwendolyn’s executioner.
Peony lifted a hand, causing emerald wings to burst from his back, and the feeling was electrifying. His wooden skin softened and chipped into pieces that collapsed to the sand as his shoulders and body broadened.
He was real.
Keo stared at Peony, wishing he could remember his past, but the love had somehow remained. He took her hand into his and kissed it softly. “How about reintroducing me to everyone, Flower?”
Because he couldn’t remember her, he knew Peony—Lily—was hurting inside, but she chuckled anyway before taking off on a sprint. “Well, come on, then!”
Even though the past year with Gwendolyn would linger, he’d remind himself every day that he could love himself regardless, until the ugly memories faded as much as they could.
Keo let out a long freeing breath and ran after the girl—fairy—who could one day be his future.
Dearest Clementine,
It’s been a few days since I last wrote to you in my journal, and I think I may have a lead. I found your bracelet—the one I made for you—on the porch steps of our cabin in the woods. I’m wearing the one you made for me too, with blue sapphires and golden beads. You always believed because we were fiends, that we weren’t good beings, but my dearest, your heart is one of the purest I know. We are demons of a different sort, not like him. Bogdi is the one who is destructive, and if he thinks he can drag you away to the Underworld, then he has another thing coming. This one time, I ask that you darken your heart a bit so you can protect yourself. Until then, my love, I’ve attached another story. Perhaps you won’t be able to hear it now, but one day you will read it.
Always Yours,
Dorin
A Piece for Him
1982
“You can’t die!” Talia shouted, shaking the arm of the body in front of her. “You can’t!” Releasing Shea’s bicep, she slammed her hands against her legs, but he was gone. Gone. Something had killed Shea in his sleep. Old age? A heart attack? Talia didn’t know, but she had known that one day it would come. Her entire heart felt as if it was broken into two.
She swiped her long black hair from her face and picked up the phone receiver from the cradle to dial an ambulance. With a choked sob, she hung up the phone after calling and clenched Shea’s hand once more, holding on tight until the sirens wailed.
Hesitantly letting go of Shea’s hand, Talia hurried and flung open the door to let the paramedics inside.
She led them to her and Shea’s room. “I-I’m not sure what happened. I went to make him breakfast, and when I came to check on him he was already gone.” Despite the need to curl into a ball on the floor and weep, she held her grief in as much as she could.
“Is this your grandpa, Miss?” one of the EMTs asked as he pulled out an object from his bag.
Her spine straightened, and her despair only consumed her further. “No, I’m only his maid.” It was a lie. Everything that spilled from her mouth to them was a lie.
Shea had been her lover for years, until he was unable to do much of anything. But she stayed because she loved him, because he was the light she longed to hold onto, and because he was her soulmate if they truly existed.
After all this time, she had found the one.
For the lovers of her past, she had loved them all in her own way. As with Shea, they’d grown wrinkled with graying hair, while she hadn’t aged a day. The names repeated over and over in her head. Jasmine, Johnny, William, Laurel, Elizabeth, and on and on and on. Shea…
After the paramedics took Shea’s body away, Talia rushed to the only friend she had left. Ednah. Hardly able to see the road through her tears, she sped past a row of old houses and parked in the cracked driveway. Talia scrambled out of the car and jogged to Edna’s porch, banging on the door until her friend opened it. Ednah was still in her striped pajamas, and her short gray hair was perfectly set by mounds of hairspray to keep her curls in check.
“What’s wrong?” Ednah asked, a wrinkled hand gripping the shirt at her stomach.
“Shea’s—” Talia took a deep breath to control herself. “Shea’s dead.”
Ednah let out a heavy sigh and nodded, because t
hey had both seen it coming. Talia had wanted to believe it would never happen, that it couldn’t happen, but Ednah always knew it would.
Talia had met Ednah through Shea who had always been like a sister to him. When Talia told Ednah what she was, she didn’t believe it at first, but as the years went by, the old woman had finally accepted it.
The hot tears came again and wouldn’t stop. Shea had been everything to her, and the thought of moving on again as she had with the others hurt her more than anything.
She curled up on Ednah’s couch, and her friend placed a crocheted blanket over her. The memories of Shea came back to her one after another.
Talia sat on the rocks that formed a straight line from the sand to the ocean, going out about thirty feet before it was only water.
She’d been living in solitude for some time, and she was tired, tired of thinking about where she’d be in a thousand more years. Somehow, she’d been born immortal, whereas her parents had withered and died so incredibly long ago. All of this was beginning to drive her mad. Sucking in a deep breath, she stood from the hard rock and shifted to the very last one. She released her tightened fists at her sides and flexed her hands with her palms outward and stared up at the sky.
“Miss!” a voice yelled. “Miss! Stop!”
Startled, Talia whirled around to see a man running at her wearing trousers and suspenders, with a hat blocking the view of his face.
She cocked her head, but still couldn’t see the man clearly. “Yes?”
The man stepped toward her. “If you’re looking to drown yourself, that’s not the way I would recommend doing it.”
Talia let out high-pitched laughter. “Oh, dear sir, are you trying to tell me I can’t choose to drown myself if I want to?”
“I wasn’t saying that, but I’d have to go in after you, wouldn’t I?” He moved to the side, and the sun’s rays revealed his face. The man was possibly a little older than her—at least her current appearance—with wide-set brown eyes, tan skin, chiseled cheeks, and a too-long nose.
Dearest Clementine: Dark and Romantic Monstrous Tales (Letters Book 1) Page 2