The rapha and the firefl.., p.8
The Rapha and the Firefly, page 8
“This is Ariel,” Rosie introduced. “She’s a friend of Basil’s. And ours.”
“Ariel,” Alfie repeated, listening to the tone of the word. “Such a beautiful name for a beautiful lady. She really does look like an angel, doesn’t she, Kathy? So, I have finally seen a flyer close up.” Alfie closed his eyes, exhausted. The brief speech had taken most of his strength.
“I have some medicine for you, Alfie. It will help your breathing.”
The old man didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Good. I was counting on entering the Elk River Swim-off this summer. I believe this year I might have a good chance of winning.”
Sage smiled at Alfie’s joke as he filled a syringe. “You’ll swim circles around those young upstarts. Little stick here,” he warned as he injected the medicine.
“Ow!” Alfie opened his eyes and glared up at the Rapha. “You liar.”
Sage smiled affectionately down at the old man, bent over, and kissed his forehead. “Do you feel better downstairs, Alfie? I’ll take you back down if you’d like.”
Alfie returned the affectionate smile, wheezing as he did so. “Thank you, Sage old boy. Gill breathing seems much easier on my system these days.”
Sage gently gathered up the old man and headed back to the stairs with him.
“I’ll see you at the Swim-off,” he promised.
“Bring your angels with you.” Alfie grinned back.
“What’s an angel?” Ariel asked once she and Rosie were airborne again. She’d heard the term before and was confused. Was it a kind of elf?
“It’s another name for a guardian,” the gnome replied. “But that’s if guardians were beautiful and girly. I think real guardians are strong and terrifying. In the Book of Elyon they’re fighting battles and are protectors. They keep humans safe from Balial and his servants. Balial is always trying to get to people and trick them to stop following Elyon.”
“What?” Ariel wasn’t sure what Rosie was talking about. “Is Balial still around?”
Rosie nodded. “He was a guardian, and guardians never die. We can’t see him, but he’s there.”
That thought was unsettling to the flyer. She quickly looked around, wondering where he might be hiding.
“Does Balial trick elves too?” she wondered, “Or just humans?”
“He’s trying to trick everybody. That’s why Logos made guardians to protect us.”
“So, there’s guardians around too? Big strong guardians like Sage and Tanner?”
Rosie giggled at this. “I’m pretty sure guardians are even bigger than that, but yes. They’re strong. And there’s more of them then there are Balial’s followers.”
That made the princess feel a little better.
“And guardians especially watch over children,” Rosie continued. “I think that’s where the idea of angels came from: the beautiful girly angels. So the idea wouldn’t scare little kids. After all, you were scared when you first met Sage. How would you feel meeting a much larger sprite, wearing battle armor and carrying a sword?”
Ariel thought about that: pretty girlish angel or warrior guardian. Which would she prefer?
“If I just wanted someone to be friends with, I’ll take the angel. If Balial is trying to trick me and there’s a fight, I’d want the guardian.”
Rosie laugh. “I agree with you!” she said. “So for now, you and I can be pretty angels and we’ll let the guardians keep watch over us.”
11
Boxelder and Aunt Fern
About ten minutes after leaving Alfie and Kathy, Rosie was landing the meadowlark on a high branch of a cottonwood tree. Sage came up out of the bark so close to Ariel that she nearly tumbled backwards and into thin air in surprise. There in the trunk of the tree, level with the top of the branch was a tall door.
“Stay close to Rosie,” Sage warned. “And for Heaven’s sake, don’t make any sudden moves or loud noises.”
Rosie nodded her assurance that she’d keep an eye on the princess. Ariel nodded too, unsure of why and wondered what would be on the other side of the door. They knocked softly before entering and the flyer followed the other two down a winding staircase beneath the bark of the tree. It opened into a large hollow in the heart of the cottonwood. A wood sprite male crossed the room and greeted them, warmly shaking hands with the other sprite, and speaking just above a whisper. Ariel looked the new sprite over. He was a few years older than Sage and nearly as tall. And way too jittery to suit the princess. She hid behind Sage for safety.
“Hey, Cuz,” the sprite gave Sage a strained smile before giving Rosie a quick hug. He caught sight of Ariel. “Is that Basil’s flyer?” he asked.
“Yeah, but she’s still pretty shy around sprites,” Sage explained, careful to keep his voice down also. “Ariel, meet my cousin, Boxelder. Box, this is Ariel.”
Box nodded politely but in a distracted sort of way.
“So, Box, how’s your grandma doing?” Rosie queried.
The young man ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Well, she won’t eat, she keeps everyone else from sleeping, and she’s determined we’re trying to kill her.”
Sage grimaced. “She’s still up all night? Isn’t she taking her sleeping pills?”
Box shook his head. “She’s spits them out. Says they’re poisoned. Along with her food, her tea and anything else we try to give her. Sage, you’ve got to do something! I don’t know how much more of this we can take! She’s been harassing my wife to tears; the kids are scared of her, and as for me…”
“BOXELDER!”
Ariel jumped. An angry voice had shrieked at them from behind a closed bedroom door. Sage and Rosie froze. Box’s face crumbled. He had forgotten to keep his voice down.
“Who are you talking to out there?” the voice demanded. “Are you plotting how to kill me?”
“No, grandma,” Box called back giving Sage an exasperated look.
“Don’t you lie to me!” the voice barked. “I can tell you’re lying! You’re always lying! Just because I’m old you think I’m stupid too!” The bedroom door opened, and a wrinkled old lady sprite shuffled out, supported by a cane. She was shriveled down so she was hardly taller than Rosie and Ariel, but even so they all shrank back from her.
“Who’s this?” she demanded. “An exterminator?”
“No, grandma,” Box sighed. “It’s your great-nephew David Sage. Don’t you remember David? Your sister Flora’s grandson? And this is Rosie his wife.”
“The idiot who married a filthy gnome,” the old lady spat, glaring at her kin. “I knew you’d come to no good, boy. And now look at you: plotting my murder with my grandson.”
Sage ignored the animosity and smiled warmly at the lady. “Hello Aunt Fern. How are you feeling today?”
“Don’t you sass me, you devil!” Aunt Fern viciously swung her cane at her grand-nephew. His hand clamped around it before it could hit him. “Let go, vermin! How dare you!” The woman nearly fell, but Sage caught her up. At that she began pounding him with her feeble fist. “Put me down! Help! Help! Murderer! Let go, I say!”
But her grand-nephew carried her back into the bedroom and laid her down in the bed kicking and screaming.
“Box! Give me a hand here! Rosie! Hold her feet! Ow! She bit me!”
Sage’s relations swept in to help. Box pinned his grandmother’s arm and torso to the bed while Rosie sat on one leg and held the other down with her hands, but not before a slippered foot caught her in the cheek. All the while Aunt Fern struggled and screamed at them. Sage held down his great-aunt’s free arm as best he could as he grappled to free his stethoscope from his breast pocket and position it in his ears. Over the screams, he struggled to listen to the lady’s heart and lungs.
“Heart’s as strong as a racehorse, and lungs are fine,” Sage diagnosed.
“Oh, really?” His exasperated cousin couldn’t help but be sarcastic. “OF COURSE, HER LUNGS ARE FINE! I COULD HAVE TOLD YOU THAT!”
Box’s animosity slid right off Sage with no effect. Instead, he slid off his pack.
“Hold her arm, Box. I need to give her a couple of shots.”
Fern went ridged when she heard that.
“Shots!” she screeched. “That would be truth serum. But I won’t tell you what I know! I won’t! I won’t!” She began flailing again and Box and Rosie struggled to maintain their hold on her. In less than a minute, Sage had the syringe filled and ready. At the sight of it, the woman redoubled her efforts to free herself, but her relatives kept their grips, and the serum was injected.
“HE’S KILLING ME!” the old lady shrieked. “HELP! HELP! MURDER!”
A second injection followed the first and the woman shrieked even louder. Ariel clamped her hands over her ears, wondering how the others could stand the ruckus, as the woman droned on and on. After a few very long minutes the screams began to lose their volume and the frail muscles began to relax. The flyer watched in amazement as the screaming banshee slowly transformed into a docile, quiet old lady. The stillness was such a contrast to the screeches of only moments before that all five of them remained silent for a few moments more, basking in the tranquility.
“Oh, that feels so much better,” the elderly lady purred. She looked around her as if suddenly realizing where she was, and her eyes caught sight of Sage. “David!” The pale blue eyes lit up in delight. “How wonderful of you to come see me! And Rose, too! How are you, dear? Isn’t it time you two gave me some grand-nieces and nephews? Oh, what a sight I am! Here I am in my skivvies with you gawking at me! But I’ve been so tired, lately. Let me just rest my eyes a moment and then we can visit.” Aunt Fern closed her eyes and in seconds was fast asleep. Box let out a weary sigh as he covered her with a blanket.
“Well, that will hold her for a few hours, but when she wakes up, she’ll be worse than ever,” he commented.
Sage nodded. “As the tumor grows it’s going to push against her brain more and more and her mind is going to continue to deteriorate.” He carefully watched his cousin’s reaction. “By next week, she probably isn’t even going to recognize you anymore.”
Box froze in his tracks for a moment, digesting the new information. Then, his knees suddenly weak, he sank down into a chair.
“How long?” he finally asked.
“Maybe a month. Possibly more. Probably less.”
Box silently nodded his understanding. A tear trickled down his cheek.
Rosie cleared her throat. “Hey, Box, why don’t you take the family to our place tonight? Sage and I can stay here, and I’m sure you could all use a break.”
The sprite looked up at her, blank at first and then her words sank in.
“You want to stay here with grandma?” he verified.
“Sure, just give us an hour to grab a few things from home first.”
“But…” Box stammered. “What about grandma? She needs to take her medicine and there’s her dinner and…”
“I think we can handle it, Cuz,” Sage interrupted. “Just get your stuff together and be ready to go, ok?”
Dumbfound, Box nodded. “Thank you.”
12
Why Not Let Them Die?
The next hour was a whirlwind. Rosie’s first stop was to Grandma Love’s. Could she possibly come over at once and cook? It would be so wonderful for there to be a hot meal waiting for Boxelder’s family when they arrived. Grandma was honored and promised she be there as soon as she extinguished her own fire. Then it was on to the house where Rosie set out her good dishes and put fresh bedding on both the big bed and the day bed. Sage made sure there was plenty of firewood and clean towels waiting. A chest of toys was pulled out and Rosie even got her old rag dolls down from their place of honor on the shelf over the bed. As soon as Grandma arrived, a pot of water was put on the fire, and she began cutting up vegetables.
“But why do you give good medicine to people like that anyway?” Ariel finally asked when the bustle had calmed down slightly.
Sage had been laying out extra mats on the floor so all the children would have someplace to sleep.
“People like what?” he asked, as he continued to work.
“You know: Alfie and Aunt Fern. They’re dying anyway, aren’t they?”
Sage stopped and looked over at Rosie and Grandma Love, but they were obviously as dumbfounded by her comment as he was. “Well…” He searched his brain, trying to reason out why someone would ask such a question as at the same time he tried to come up with an explanation.
“Well,” He said again. “I treat them because they’re people.”
“But they’re dying! Why don’t you save the medicine for someone who can get better?”
“And just what am I supposed to do, Ariel? Take them out in the woods and leave them there?”
“That’s what we do.”
If they had been dumbfounded before, Ariel’s last statement left all three in a state of shock. It was a long moment before anyone could speak, and then Grandma had to be sure she hadn’t heard wrong.
“Your people take the elderly out and leave them in the woods to die?”
Ariel shrugged indifference. “Yeah, and it’s not just old people. It’s people that are really sick or have things wrong with them, so they can’t work. They can’t do anything to help the colony and it saves on food. I think Thorn would take Baby Storm out and leave him if he wasn’t heir to the throne.”
The other three continued to stare at the princess; the girls becoming more appalled with each sentence, but Sage mulled the concept over in his mind for a few seconds before responding.
“You know,” he finally said. “that’s a terrific idea. I wonder why we never thought of that?”
Rosie and Grandma Love exchanged befuddled looks and stared at Sage in shock, but the man ignored them, enwrapped in the flyer’s revelation.
“That really would save me a lot of time: you know I work with Geriatric patients – that’s old people – If I wasn’t always so busy with them, I’d have a lot more time to work on medical research. So, let’s say, once someone reaches a certain age, we just stop treating them, right? Arbitrarily, we’ll say…oh, 50. Once they’re 50, they’re on their own.” Sage was getting caught up in the planning of his scenario and Ariel was beaming with his understanding of the logic behind the flyer way, when the sprite slapped his forehead, irritated by his own stupidity.
“What?” Ariel asked in concern
“Keeper! He’s what… 53, now?” But as suddenly as Sage had brought the name up, he waved it off. “Ah, who cares? He knows enough about medicine to take care of himself. No problem there. But…oh!” He stopped again, upset by another mental road block.
“Something else?” Rosie wondered.
“Grandma!” Sage turned to the elder woman. “How old are you anyway?”
“Well,” Grandma tentatively played along. “For the sake of discussion, we’ll pretend I’m over 50.”
Sage shook his head sadly at this revelation. “Sorry, Grandma, you’re on your own. And Tanner – oh, he’s way over –, and Josiah’s dad and definitely his grandmother, nearly everyone on the high council, Man, we’d be writing off a lot of people just for being too old. That’s really too bad. If we’d gotten rid of them, you would never have met any of them.
“Let’s focus on the sickly now: Let’s see, that would clear up all of our schedules and we’d have a lot more time to just hang out, but gee, now that I think about it…” he turned to his wife, “Didn’t you come down with strep last year?”
She nodded. “Had a fever of 102,” she confirmed.
Sage shook his head. “Well, that should have definitely written you off. Too bad we wasted all that medicine on you. And let’s see, Thyme was nearly eaten by a catfish… 89 stitches if I remember right and laid up for three weeks on antibiotics. Hope had road kill syndrome, Faith fell off a flower and broke her leg…”
“You ran into a rock and broke your wrist,” Rosie reminded her husband.
“Not to mention the cracked skull you gave me with that ball.”
“We were in the middle of a stickball game, and you should have been paying attention.”
Sage continued listing casualties. “Let’s see, Josiah had whooping cough as a baby – twice I believe, Peter suffered a bad allergic reaction to an ant bite, Dill got a bad case of the flu and I seem to recall Basil having a nasty run-in with a spider not long ago.” Sage looked over at the flyer. “Gee, Ariel. You’ve killed us all off. And we all still had so many useful years ahead of us.”
Ariel blinked, dumbfounded. It was a few seconds before she found her voice again and could express her amazement.
“Keeper’s fifty-three?”
Rosie and Sage sat cuddled together on the couch before the fireplace.
“So, what do you think?” Sage asked.
“’Bout what?”
“Basil’s little friend.”
Rosie thought long and hard before answering.
“She sure has a different point of view on things, doesn’t she?”
“Um. Thought provoking, wasn’t she?”
Rosie couldn’t help grinning. “Your little scheme didn’t work, did it? I don’t think that she ever caught on that you weren’t actually going along with her idea of just letting people die.”
Sage stifled a laugh. “Boy, if she ever repeats some of the stuff I said, my days around here are numbered!”
“I wonder why Keeper’s letting her stay.”
The sprite shook his head. “Haven’t a clue. It doesn’t make sense, does it? The way he feels about flyers.”
“Maybe he’s mellowing.”
Sage snorted. “Right. That’ll be the day. No, he’s got something up his sleeve.”
“Um. And you have something on your neck. Here, let me see.”
Puzzled, the man tilted his head to better expose the neck for his wife to examine. To his surprise, she planted a kiss on his jugular. Sage couldn’t help laughing and then shivering from the sensation it sent down his spine.
“You little imp!”
He had the girl pinned down in a moment and retaliated. She squealed in mock protest and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face close so she could kiss him.
