It took a few more minutes when another vibrating patter came in.
‘What part you don't get? I need you home NOW.’
Uncomfortable feeling spread trough her body, making her cheeks flush red color, as if being embarrassed by a higher rank figure scolding her. Her gaze lowered to read it once more, in caps lock letters, that the time was definitely not in two hours but right now. She didn't have authority to decide time it was the other girl in need of help. And even if her analytical skills jumped from one scenario to the other, not comprehending the kind of help she could offer, this girl; who was bound to her by a blood stamp next to hers, who will most certainly carry out the promise with her grandmother, who seemed fearless and street smart – probably having many friends that shared the same traits – has now contacted her, and trusted her enough to get help from. And Sol wanted to be worthy of this trust.
A hasty decision has been made, throwing notebook, pencil case and phone into bag then proceeding to almost run among the tables, when Mrs. Bee stopped her at the exit.
‘And where are you going?’ asked counselor of raised eyebrows, still holding that piece of paper with one blank answer.
Sol turned around looking over her classmates, ones who giggled, ones who didn't notice her existence and also her three friends that were once more exposed to her developing unpredictability.
‘Well?’
Her gaze ran over counselor’s hand, recognizing her own handwriting devoid of happiness. The sight made her craft a friendly smile, a sincere one in a long time, and with that, a smooth lie that covered up future events still unknown.
‘I just remembered I have a dentist appointment and I’m already late. So please, may I excuse myself?’
Snap of the fingers and she was back on the street, running with all might towards the girl in need, like a hero she used to dream of becoming as a child. And perhaps this was the reason for her existence – to help others in some way.
With her left hand, now bearing a deep brown scar, she brushed bouncing strands of hair out of her face. There were even tears present in the corners of her eyes, indication of the very cold weather she tried to fight away by running as quickly as possible. Sol instinctively turned for the path closest to Smiling Gerbera. However, upon arriving there she remembered Min explicitly told her to come home. In the official introduction, when the girl mentioned of knowing her grandmother very well, perhaps that meant even knowing her home address.
As she slowed the pace, just enough to pull out the key of massive iron fence, she realized there was no Min announcing on incoming danger or the chance to showcase her newly attained act of heroism. A little baffled, and extremely out of breath, she walked trough the fence, reaching the main entrance of her home. Just as she was about to turn another key around, her sensitive pair of ears detected laughter. Slowly following the unidentified voices, without a hint of fear, she reached the backyard, eyes stopping by the healthy oak tree where the girl in need was. It was then when Sol realized she could easily recognize Min even by looking at her back.
The girl was in squatting position, intently observing an object of desire. Sol stood unmoved, watching over the curious girl by the end of the house – where majority of hydrangea’s claimed their spot, by now severely dried out. Various thoughts ran across her mind while watching Min, and it didn't take long before she figured out this call for help could in reality be a dirty trick of hers. One thing bothered her however. She couldn't make a proper connection of previously heard voices, because it definitely seemed there was at least someone else present.
‘Quick here, I found one,’ said Min in a rather cheerful tone, standing up.
From the other end unknown figure came into Sol’s vision, striding trough her backyard to reach Min all the while not noticing her presence. It was a young boy. He didn't say a word and would only take whatever appeared to be in Min’s hand to observe it more closely, diligently. After a few moments his focus broke, looking across to lock eyes with Sol. Min quickly connected the dots, turning around.
‘Finally!’ she waived, signaling to join them in their exploration search trough her withered garden.
She stepped carefully, with reservation, because right there by the mighty oak stood yet another stranger, maybe even stranger that the girl beside him. But the boy would only hold his heavy gaze upon Sol’s every move, never wavering, just like Min did.
‘I thought you wont come,’ said Min, placing her hand on Sol’s shoulder, ‘oh, you’re probably wondering what are we doing here,’ hinting at his curled palms, ‘he wanted to see them.’
Briefly leaning into the boy’s personal space, Sol could see a black creature being perfectly still. At first it appeared to be dead but after a slight poke, by his slender fingers, the little insect showed his shape: a dung beetle.
It was the kind of beetle one could easily miss to see or label as an unimportant one, even hideous looking, simply because it wasn't blessed with emerald colored shield, that could change hue under the bright sun. This little creature in front of their eyes wasn't disposable or insignificant, it was in fact quite resilient, even more than moon-fire dahlias and this is was made it beautiful.
‘A strange kid,’ said Min, slightly smiling, hand still pressed on Sol’s shoulder, ‘but he’s my favorite one,’ she only then released her hand, leaving warmth behind to softly fade away. Min looked at him so lovingly it was hard to ignore it. Even a person devoid of any compassion or common sense would see the caring gaze she sent him. For a moment this was hard to process for Sol, as she would only ever see her with certain flair of superiority.
The girl then proceeded to lock his palms with hers, making the boy naturally lift his head and at her seeming approval of gentle nod, he crunched to the ground, releasing the beetle back into the wilderness.
‘Now then, let me explain the reason I contacted you,’ said Min, coming back to her usual self. ‘I need to fix something and in the meantime when I’m out of town, I want you to take care of my little brother.’
Quickly glancing between them both, Sol couldn't voice a fast reply to this. This boy was in fact a human being tied by blood to girl she barely knew anything about. And right now she asked her to take care of yet another individual of whom she knew less than nothing. However a favor was a favor, and Sol couldn't possibly choose what kind she will plunge herself into, and even if she knew she wouldn't be able to come to a desirable option.
‘Consider it done,’ said Sol, pretending to be firm with her answer, ‘and how long will you be gone?’
‘Only for the night,’ spoke Min in a nonchalant manner, like it was everyday that such a meeting takes place. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow, ideally before noon. So, do you have any more questions?’
‘Can I ask you what is the urgent situation you need to fix?’
‘Can’t answer in detail. All I can say is it's a family matter and I need to know my brother is going to be safe for the night,’ she pulled the boy closer to her by embracing him across his smaller frame, ‘I bet you figured out I trust you, so you better not blow it,’ harshly added the girl who cherished her brother’s well being as a number one priority. ‘So tell me, can I trust you with this or is it too much to ask?’
Sol felt anxiousness kicking in, what if I somehow manage to ruin this favor, what would happen to me. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, desperately trying to get rid of restless thoughts that roamed inside of her mind at full speed, imagining every possible outcome in case a failure waited ahead.
‘I promise you he is going to be safe,’ words uneasily left her mouth.
‘Good,’ the girl gently ruffled her brother’s hair, then smoothened it into a previous form.
‘I also promise to do as the will said. This just came so suddenly, bad timing I guess.’
‘Not a problem, I understand.’
Frankly Sol didn't understand a thing but could foresee that Min really needed for her brother to be safe and sound. What r
eason lay behind those actions she couldn't tell, but she saw the girl didn't tell a single lie so far, a rarity indeed.
‘Any other question I can answer?’
‘Well, you didn't introduce us,’ Sol looked at the boy who all the while the girls chatted, kept his unwavering gazed fixed on her. For some reason she felt a magnetic pull oozing out of him, wanting to step inside of his being, like he was a black hole. A strange sensation she never felt before, a new feeling perhaps.
‘How could I forget,’ Min burst out laughing, one foot stepping back to support her gravity evenly. ‘Everyone calls him Hell.’
‘Hell?’
‘We thought he was mute, but when he was five or six,’ Min unconsciously raised her eyes towards the sky in trying to remember the detail of little importance, ‘anyway, we taught he was a mute when he suddenly spoke. And the first word he told was hell.’ She smiled at this, looking down on her smaller brother with pride, like he spoke her name. He however, observed them quietly, never letting his voice be heard, making him that much harder to read – if that was even possible.
‘Oh, and please don't be mad that we intruded your property.’
‘It's okay, I’m just wondering how did you managed to climb that fence,’ Sol’s head pointing to direction of endless steel surrounding them, pretending to not get slightly offended by their trespassing.
‘Ah, that's easy, once you know the secret.’
‘Secret? And what is that?’
‘Having the key of course,’ the girl gave a little shrug, patted her brother on the head once more then left them knowing she was the focal point in their vision.
After the girl left, Sol nervousness amplified, making her fidget with strands of her excessively long checkered scarf she wore almost religiously each winter.
What exactly did she do, to make my grandmother trust her so much to give her the key of the house? A place, where I sleep in, where I’m supposed to be protected. Wasn't the store enough? Sol thought this over a couple of times, each round giving her more unnecessary anxiety she couldn't seem to get rid of. Right beside her another distressing factor stood, with whom she didn't know witch method to use. Knowing how simply standing there would get worse by passing second, she gathered a small amount of available courage – perhaps only adrenaline kicking in – to properly introduce herself to the boy, cutting the awkward silence away.
Somehow she managed to quite boldly say her name to him, extending her right arm out, palm firmly tightened to make for a serious handshake. He was only a little kid, but something about him made her behave in a more mature way than usual, even if it was just a role she played in a currently attended theater: the backyard.
Slowly but surely, with corners of his mouth forming into a surprisingly warm smile, he reached into her palm saying, ‘Nice to meet you too.’
Sol gestured the boy to follow her into the main space or heart of the house, where living room, kitchen, and dining table connected. The house was quite spacious but because of dark furniture, excluding the big windows, it appeared cramped, even suffocating at times. She went right ahead to the kitchen counter to prepare some jasmine tea, the one she regularly consumed just because it always seemed to present in the house, and a simple snack to make up for non-existing lunch. Without much thinking Sol grabbed the nearest iron kettle out of the other three, stored somewhere in the mess she needed to organize one day. Filled with water on burning stove, she saw the kettle being the one her grandmother used the least due to a reason she never found out.
One time, when it was also during the beginning of winter, Sol decided to impress her callous grandmother. She pulled a silver tray out, used exclusively for guests, placed a dozen of small circular ginger flavored cookies, which she baked an hour before, two handmade cups by the local artist, and started to boil the water in this infamous kettle. Everything looked smooth, until the old lady happened to go sit on a different chair than her usual, by the dining table, and with that her view switched to Sol’s tea preparation. Upon seeing the kettle she immediately stood up, raising her voice over the poor girl to turn off the stove. Granddaughter severely startled she quickly grabbed the hot kettle, burning both of her palms, which were then recovering for another year. The grandmother never explained the reason of her sudden outburst, however Sol latter crafted her own, comforting her self over the heavy burn, by kettle being a gift from her late grandfather whom she never meet. And who knows, perhaps this really did take place.
Jasmine leaves have just started to soak in boiling hot water, when a faint melody has been heard. Sol briefly stopped midair with kettle still in hands, looking pass her shoulder to confirm that the unexpected guest was not in her field of vision. The sound came in slightly choppy groups of notes, spreading from the upstairs which indicated that there could be only one source of music in this entire house: her abandoned piano.
She put the kettle in the sink with careful motion to go follow the melody. Climbing the stairs, each individual step revealed more of the tune being played. It was a melancholic piece by Frédéric Chopin, of which she knew too much. By the time she got up to the top, the short melody restarted again right from the beginning. There, a small storage room was opened just enough for a person to pass in. Sol walked silently to secretly behold the sight of the boy playing. Prelude in E-Minor, right hand properly on place with the struggling left side. Her heart was pounding, palms starting to sweat when he caught her eye and said, ‘do you know how to play the piano?’
Not being able to say no, her cover of hating the music was shattered just like that – by a simple question. Of course she could pretend of being ignorant or could even say to the boy to not touch her belongings and get downstairs, but his persistent tone of voice was present even while forming a question. What Sol heard was a demand on teaching him to play the sad melody she heard countless of times before and not an innocent teenage curiosity. Unable to drag a lie out of thin air, his sole present intimidated her, much like Min did.
‘A little bit,’ being humble over her talent, which she didn't practice for years. Sol wasn't like her mother who had her DNA filled with notes, and as much as everyone would disagree and called her a child prodigy, somehow this whole piano phase she was plunged into never felt quite right. It definitely came easy to her but nevertheless it never felt like her.
She sat beside the boy, proceeding to play the whole song trough. He watched her intently as she would press each key down fluidly, avoiding any excess pause he previously demonstrated. By the time second half of the song started to roll across the room into the hallway, he lifted his right hand waiting for a stop to happen to jump in and continue playing on his side of the piano. She glanced at him almost ending the tune all together, when his sudden smile brought her back to transition into their little music experiment. As a first time, their synchronicity worked quite well, in fact it was a little disturbing on Sol’s behalf, because it reminded her so much of her childhood.
She always preferred songs with melancholic feel and it wasn't until she met Haven that this trait shifted into uplifting major chords, which sneakily crawled under her fingers, impressing her friend each time they both sat behind the piano or organ in church. This however later turned out to be act of pure jealousy and hatred.
Haven was never there, not in the true sense of being a friend. For Sol it was the same as being in a one sided romantic relationship. And who doesn't know that things like these simply never work out.
The song had ran out, the boy put his hands onto his lap and merely sat right beside Sol, his left tight slightly grazing hers. In her peripheral filed of vision she sensed he watched her, casting another unwavering gaze on her weak heart. She turned her head to see him front face, eyes locked, but the boy looked at something else instead. Following his trail, she saw her left hand unconsciously hanging on the edge beneath the keyboard – all weight falling only on index finger.
‘How did you get this?’ he asked, still focusing on her hand.
Flipping the palm around to see the point of interest, ‘You mean this?’
‘Yes. It must’ve been painful,’ he said, looking her straight in the eye.
She clenched her fingers together in a fist, stretching the needed time to come up with a proper excuse for a teenage boy no older than twelve or thirteen.
‘I’ve cut myself while cutting carrots,’ the lie rolled out of her tongue effortlessly.
‘That's weird,’ said the boy, narrowing his eyes, ‘this type of a scar can never happen when one is cutting carrots. It can only happen if someone else is trying to cut you.’
‘But it’s true, I accidentally cut myself,’ Sol confirmed her lie once more, by now becoming convinced of this story herself.
After a moment of silence, he told her ‘I’ll tell you how I know it's a lie.’
Sol’s eyes widened up, knowing, that this stranger had the same boldness attached to him as his sister, if not more.
‘Your kind can never cut their own skin that deep. Only the ones who’re from hell can do it like that.’
Like a bullet shot straight into the forehead, his response left a jarring shock enter into her body, making her paralyzed. At once she remembered how she told that group of youths that no one in hell laughs, then this boy comes in announcing his name is Hell, and that somehow he could also see residents of the devil’s realm.
What is going on? Could the boy really see people from hell or am I losing my mind, she questioned. But if he can, can he also see I was there once?
‘Min was right,’ he remarked in a teasing voice, barely containing laughter inside, ‘you really do get scared easily.’
This joke, as he would call it, was filled with morbid energy that could terrify even the toughest of men and not just Sol. It took descending back to the first floor, to leave a tiny bit of madness creeping on her behind.
The tea was long stale, water turning into dark brown tasting too bitter for any tongue to enjoy. Sol got orange juice out of the refrigerator instead, not having the patience nor calm hand to make another round of jasmine. She then proceeded to slice an apple, put out a handful of dried figs and after a more concentrated look in the lower drawer, where snacks and sweets were being stored, she pulled out chocolate cookies shaped into sticks. All was nicely put of the wooden tray on top of the dining table where the boy already seated.
Sol Page 5