A Tiny Bit Mortal

by Lindsay Bassett

  “Now let’s find something for you to wear.” she said.

  She helped me get dressed and then brushed my hair. It was soothing, and dreamlike, to look into the mirror in front of where I sat to see what appeared to be an angel brushing my hair. She doted on me like my own mother.

  She dressed herself, finally, much to my relief. I wasn’t used to prancing around with naked women, and it was as uncomfortable to me as a high school locker room. I followed my angel down a hallway, down some stairs and into a dining hall. There was what looked like a banquet on a dark, long, medieval looking table with boards of cheese, bread, sliced meats, and grapes. There were bottles of corked wine and wine glasses about.

  She made me up a plate and poured me a small glass of a white wine. I ate and drank. The wine went down smoothly and filled my belly with warmth. The warmth of the wine doused out my feelings about the place seeming dangerous, and my angel seemed, well, angelic. I calmed down and trusted her sincere, reassuring words that “Peter was just fine and simply in the hall in the middle of talks.”

  After we ate she beckoned for me to follow her. I followed her and her wings up two flights of stairs, where we entered a small study. The study was dimly lit, and there were some curtained windows at the back. She motioned toward the windows and said “take a peek.”

  Pulling back one of the curtains, I saw the hall down below with the same immortals that had been there before, minus my new angel friend. Peter and my dad were sitting in two chairs at the end of the hall, and everyone was silent.

  “They are deliberating now.” She whispered. “Everyone has spoken their points. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

  She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. I felt exhausted again and followed her back into the room where I’d been sleeping before. She gave me another small glass of wine while I sat up in bed and then got in bed next to me. She pulled me close to her and wrapped me again in her arms and her soft feathery wings. I fell into a deep, comforting sleep.

  I became conscious of the winged lady stroking my temple. “Emmm-ily.” she said, in her tiny girl like voice. “Wake uuuup.” I opened my eyes. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over me. She was smiling, and I felt thankful that she was clothed that time.

  “What do I call you?” I asked, sleepily.

  “You may call me mother.” she said.

  “Does everyone call you mother?” I asked.

  “No, my name is Mikella,” she said. “but I have adopted you.”

  “I have a mom though.” I said, confused.

  “A mortal mother,” she said. “that can only teach you mortal things. She will pass away long before you do.”

  I had never considered that. The thought of my mom leaving the world at any point sickened me. She had been the closest person to me throughout my entire life. I never even had a best friend, just my mom.

  “But my dad.” I said, confused by the whole situation.

  “Your father has agreed to it.” she said.

  I sat up in bed, searching for what to say. “Why?” I asked, wondering why he would agree to such a thing.

  “I haven’t had a child in thousands of years.” she said. “No one interests me enough for me to make a child with them. I want to take care of you and keep you safe. I care for you so very much already.”

  She was so sweet, and so sincere. I thought about my dad, and what it all meant. I wondered if it meant he would be abandoning me again, for his idea of “the greater good.”

  “Is my dad leaving me?” I asked.

  “No, no.” she said. “Not at all. It has been decided that you are going to leave with him tomorrow.”

  “And Peter?” I asked. “I miss him terribly.”

  “He will be leaving with you as well.” she said.

  “So if you adopted me,” I said. “what does that mean.”

  “It means,” she said. “That you will come stay with me from time to time, and I will look in on you. I have sworn an oath to nurture you and be your guide for all your days upon this earth.”

  “When did this happen.” I asked.

  “While you were sleeping.” she said. “You slept another two days.”

  “Oh.” I said. I suddenly felt ravenous, and a little gross for not having showered in days. “Is there somewhere I can take a shower?” I asked.

  “I will take you to the baths.” she said, in a bubbly voice. “And then I will bring you something to eat.”

  She led me down the hall, down some stairs and into a dimly lit room that contained a large pool, with several small bathtub sized pools surrounding it with steam rising from them. A nude man lay back with his eyes closed in one of the tubs, and a woman appeared at the edge of the pool, naked, and dove in. I averted my eyes.

  “Don’t let it bother you.” she said, clearly aware of my discomfort. She led me toward one of the bathtub sized pools that was a good distance away from the naked man and prompted me to remove my dress.

  Peeling off the dress, I instinctively covered my breasts and hastened into the water. The water felt absolutely exquisite, and I relaxed. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the fact there were other people in the room that could see me naked. Peter had failed to tell me that these immortals lived like nudists in a nudist colony, and I made a note to chew him out about it later.

  Several minutes passed by and I nearly fell asleep, but I was brought back into consciousness by the sound of feet stepping nearby me. I opened my eyes and saw Peter standing over me, holding a plate and some grapes. “Peter!” I said, excitedly, forgetting I was naked.

  He laid down on the tile floor on his side, propping himself up with his elbow and his hand on the side of his head. He set the plate next to me, pulled off a grape and fed it to me.

  “How are you doing?” he said.

  “Tired.” I said.

  “Me too.” he said. He began stripping off his clothes and entered the pool next to me. I couldn’t help but ogle at him with my eyes - I had never seen him completely naked before. I had the sudden realization that I was naked also, and he had just been looking at me.

  “Is this normal?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?” He asked.

  “The nudity around here.” I said, whispering. “It’s like a nudist colony in here!” Peter laughed, and said “Oh Emily, I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you terribly.” I said.

  “I can’t wait to be home with you.” he said.

  “Me too.” I said, with a sigh.

  “Well, that could have gone better.” said my dad, as we pulled away from the manor, the Hall of Elders, the thick woods, and the madness of it all. It was the first time my dad had spoken to me in days.

  Aside from my encounter with Peter in the baths I was exiled to the room with my new “Mother.” The whole experience had been like a fever dream and had left me feeling exhausted.

  We pulled out onto the highway, and I looked down at my hands in my lap. I flipped over my hands and looked at my wrists. The agony and the fear of death that I’d felt in the hall replayed in my mind again. I saw the blood all over the floor, and the life draining out of me.

  Peter reached into the backseat where I sat and put his hand on my leg. “Emily, are you okay?” He asked.

  “No, not really.” I said.

  “I had no idea they would do that.” said my dad. “I promise Emily, if I had known…”

  “You said they wouldn’t hurt me Peter.” I said, wondering if I could ever trust any of them.

  “I’m so sorry Emily.” said Peter. “In their minds, they didn’t hurt you. I know it’s no excuse, but their concept of time and pain is different.”

  “Why did they do that to me?” I asked. “Why?”

  “I have been through that,” said my dad. “and so has Peter. But for us, it was just some simple tossing around as a child to see what our abilities were. We don’t worry about death, and pain is so fleeting.”

&nbs
p; “They slash your wrists?” I asked. “Do you bleed?”

  “We do.” said Peter. “We do have blood, but our hearts don’t beat like yours does. Blood flows through us, moved by the divine.”

  “What happens if you lose all of your blood?” I asked.

  “My body would make more.” said Peter. “Though I would be incapacitated for some time. It would not cause my life to end though.”

  “My life could have ended.” I said. “I thought they were murdering me, right there on the spot.”

  “No,” said Peter. “They would not have let you die.”

  I was a little pissed at my dad and Peter for letting that happen to me, and how they didn’t seem to understand what was so upsetting about it. I folded my arms under my chest and stared out the window.

  “You did well Emily.” said Peter. “You have the abilities of a true immortal. You are very strong.”

  The complement brought back the memory of watching my blood travel up into the air and back through my wounds. I thought of landing on my feet from twenty feet up in the air, kicking my way out of a window, running through the woods, and how it had felt like a rush of absolute freedom. It was exhilarating. Mikella said I ran thirty miles. I remembered laying naked in the moss, feeling the rain against my skin. It was a side of me that seemed unreal, and I wanted more.

  Still, I was pissed. I said nothing more for the rest of the trip. I just watched the trees, rivers and mountains out of the passenger window on our way back home, playing the whole thing in my mind again and again.

  VIII

  Hostage

  Swinging open the door to the car, I took in the sight of my Dad’s house. Elated to be home, I lifted my arms up to stretch, and it felt good after being in the car for three hours. While my arms were still up in the air, Peter flung his arms around me from behind.

  “We made it!” he said, excitedly.

  “I guess we did.” I said, not quite feeling the same level of enthusiasm.

  My dad opened the trunk and said “Come on kids, grab your suitcases.” I rolled my suitcase up the pathway to the front door and waited on the front porch. Looking out to where Peter and my dad were standing with their suitcases, I saw them making motions like they were joking around about something.

  “Come on kids.” I said, trying to imitate my dad’s voice. We all laughed, and they walked up the pathway to the porch with me.

  “You sound like you’re back in good spirits.” said Peter. I shrugged, and followed my dad into the house, dragging my suitcase behind me. George came bounding down the stairs, with a prrrrbt-mrow.

  “George, you brave kitty!” I said, picking him up and scratching behind his ears. “You’ve finally left the room. Usually you’re so mad at me after I’ve been away.”

  My dad disappeared into his office, and Peter went into the kitchen to make us some lunch. I carried George upstairs with one arm, lugging my suitcase with the other.

  Unpacking my things, I took a look at my cell phone sitting on my end table. I thought about my mom, and how much I missed her. I picked up the phone and tapped “call” on “Mom” on my contacts list.

  “Hi! You’ve reached Ellen Williams.” said my mom’s recorded message. “I can’t make it to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. beeeeeep.”

  “Hi mom!” I said. “I sure do miss you. Give me a call, let’s catch up. Love you!”

  Flopping down in my bed, I stared up at the ceiling. My mind kept wanting to replay and relive the horror of watching my blood drain out. I grabbed my pillow, pressing it over my own face making a muffled grrrrrrr!

  Focusing on my memories of Mikella, my new immortal mother, I realized that she had been comforting to me after that whole experience. Being away from her was like having a band-aid ripped off while the wound was still bleeding.

  I put my hand up to the silver locket on my chest and thought of Peter. I remembered him boldly declaring “we’re in love” to his mom, and it gave me butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it. I also remembered seeing Peter completely naked in the baths at the manor. I smiled, and pushed away my muddled feelings about Peter’s cold mom, and the nagging sensation of his abandoning me, again.

  I padded down the stairs and found Peter in the kitchen. “There isn’t much in here to eat.” he said. “I did find some crackers and cheese though.”

  We sat at the kitchen island eating together. I stopped, reached over and put my hand on his. He smiled and put his other hand on top of mine. “I love you Emily.” He said.

  “I love you too, Peter.” I said.

  He got up out of his chair, wrapped his arms around me and lifting me off the ground.

  “I’m so glad we’re here together.” He said.

  “Me too.” I said, muffled, into his shoulder.

  The next day my dad said it was time to start my education. He explained that I had a lot of catching up to do, and my staying in his home hinged on how well I did studying under him. I’d be sent to be with my new mother at the Hall of Elders if things didn’t go well.

  Though Mikella, my new mother, was comforting to me, the place where she lived was not. The casual nudity and the violence was a little much for me.

  My dad handed me a heavy pile of books full of sticky notes of what I was to have finished by the end of the week. The books were titled “The Theories of Origins,” “The Divine Order” and “Defense Essentials.”

  Propping my feet up on the footstool by the fireplace, I began reading. The Theories of Origins contained many creation myths that included the immortals. Some I’d heard before, like the Egyptian primeval mound.

  Many of the stories included the immortals creating the humans, in their own image, but the text argued that these myths sprung up as stories by immortals that sought power. The text also told creation stories of a divine power so complex that no conscious being on earth, immortals included, could understand its nature. It proposed that the immortals were placed on the earth as stewards of the divine order, to assist the humans in their mortal quest of life with the burden of knowledge of good and evil.

  The Divine Order was a bit unapproachable, and I had a hard time reading it without getting sleepy. The author rambled on like there was infinite time to read his book, which I supposed to some readers was true. It did however include some points that were interesting to me from a scientific perspective about DNA, and the divine code within species.

  The Defense Essentials built on concepts in The Divine order, and I began to understand why my dad wanted me to study parts of it first. I had to go back and re-read chapters of The Divine Order for much of it to make sense. It talked about the very thing I did when I called on my spilled blood to return to me in the Hall of Elders. When I replayed the event from a scholarly point of view, it felt like it slightly lessened the horror of it.

  After hours of reading I could barely keep my eyes open. I pulled out my cell phone from a pocket on my skirt. No calls and no messages. It was weird for my mom not to return a call within 24 hours. I called her again and got her voicemail. I called another four times, hearing the same ring and voicemail each time.

  Hopping up from my seat, I made my way across the house, knocking on the door to my dad’s office. “Dad?” I asked through the closed door.

  “Come in.” he said.

  Opening the door, I walked up to his desk. “I’m worried about my Mom.” I said. “She hasn’t returned my calls, and she’s not picking up.”

  He looked up from his papers, with an eyebrow raised. “Does she normally call you back right away?” he asked.

  “She normally picks up because she doesn’t leave the house often.” I said. “I don’t think she’s ever taken this long to call me back.”

  “Hmmm.” He said. “I have a friend up in Portland, I’ll have her check in on her.” He pulled out his cellphone and started to dial.

  “Thank you.” I said, leaving the room and closing
the door behind me. I stood in the hallway, wringing my hands. Peter came in through the front door, just off from closing time at the Jewelry shop, and yelled “Honey, I’m home!”

  I just stood there, numb. “Emily, what’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I can’t get a hold of my mom.” I said.

  He put his arms around me.

  “She is getting older,” I said. “she could have fallen, or had a stroke or something and she’s all by herself there. I’m so worried.”

  My dad emerged from his office. “My friend doesn’t live far from your mom.” he said, reassuringly. “We will know something in just a few minutes.”

  Those minutes seemed to go by at a glacial pace. My mind raced with all the terrible things that could have happened to her - a slip in the tub or a stroke. My dad’s phone rang.

  His face looked grim as he listened and then went into his office and closed the door behind him to talk. I put my hands over my mouth and felt absolutely terrified. Peter held onto me as I stood frozen and waiting for my dad to come out with news. He opened the door.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Your mom’s been kidnapped, Emily.” He said. “They left a note.”

  “Who?” I said. “Why?”

  “The Corrupt.” He said. “They want you.”

  After declaring “I will go then,” I rushed towards the door. I could hardly breath, and my hands were shaking. Peter grabbed me and held on to me. I struggled, wildly, with all of my strength. My dad helped Peter hold me down on the floor.

  “Emily.” said my dad. “You can’t go. There’s too much at stake. We will find a way to get her back.” I struggled against them, sobbing. “Let me go!” I shouted, feral and angry.

  “Emily.” said Peter, soothingly. “We will find a way. You can’t go. If you thought the hall was bad, being in the hands of The Corrupt would be hell.”

  “What do you think my mom is going through then!” I shouted.