Sightless Dreaming

By Shahrezad1

Summary: Bunnymund spends most of the year gardening and taking care of the "egg plant" fields. But when the buds start dying, it's time to turn to an expert. Even if said expert is a mortal human. BunnymundXOC

Disclaimer: To assume that I own any of these characters is also to assume that I actually know what I'm doing with them. –laughs weakly- Right. Wish me luck.

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Chapter 3: Old People

"When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for the moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone..."

-John Mayer

"You're never going to hook up with a bloke looking like that."

The words, and it begins again, were shelved immediately and replaced with a shrug, "I work on a farm, Hahona. Nice duds and print dresses aren't exactly practical in my line of work."

Her sister said nothing against the hum of the car engine and, turned as she was toward the window, Ahu imagined her younger woman looking on in concern. It was almost comforting, the degree of time her kin spent on worrying about her love life…or lack thereof. But in situations like these, full of long, dragged out, nagging moments, her sister's love became a nuisance.

Thankfully the Center wasn't far from where they were. Planted next to the University, the old brick building was a steady presence on the hill, surrounded by campus offshoots and church buildings that were older than the two of them combined. A bevy of trees bracketed the building like stalwart soldiers, their leaves just starting to turn toward autumn.

It was these, just a handful of the city's sea of trees, as well as the mountain pass above them, which brought on a sort of crispness which filled Ahu's lungs and sharpened her senses. It was a soothing caress of farewell after a long, sticky summer filled with the usual mix of mosquitoes and cow manure.

As well as the first sign of her work's busy season. The corn was nearly her height now, the summer vegetables ready for harvest. And it was time to start on her winter work. Ahu looked forward to the increase with a kind of frenzied dedication, her calloused fingers itching to bury themselves within the soil.

Hahona's words brought her down to a less friendly kind of earth.

"I'm just concerned for you, is all. You're alone most of the time and you're snowed under work more often'n not. Kai keeps going off that you've gone bush on us."

"This is rubbish, then?"

Hahona heaved a heavy sigh and threw in one last, pointed dig, "you know what I meant. Visiting the elderly doesn't count."

"And if I happen to find one who's filthy rich and doesn't mind having someone like me for a wife, what then?" she remarked with a certain cheerful optimism, tongue in cheek. But the younger woman was having nothing for it.

"Then we get your head checked before you do something stupid. Especially if there's any 'minding you' involved—I wouldn't throw anyone at you that couldn't keep up with your pace, eh?"

The comment was made with a small degree of reprimand, Ahu possessing her own line of emotional self-defense in the form of her sister (even against her own negativity). But there was just enough humor in it to lighten the interaction, leaving the two females to sit together in peace. When she set out to go Hahona clasped her hand, once, and bussed her on her cheek, as per usual. Then the younger woman handed her what was sure to be a sack lunch.

"You don't have to mother me, you know. I am a grown woman," she remarked with a mix of humor and sheepish appreciation. She actually had forgotten to grab something for the midday meal, though she wouldn't admit it.

Hahona shrugged, and her dark curls, heavy and thick, brushed against the hand Ahu had placed on her shoulder.

"I'm a teacher. I mother everyone."

It was a true enough statement so the latter let it drop, turning away in a silent farewell.

The walk to the Center followed custom, Ruru padding along docily behind her, blue eyes intelligent as the taller of the two counted out steps by way of habit. Juliana sat at the desk, greeting them both with cheerful familiarity before leading the duo to where Esme was.

Then careful, paper-thin hands were reaching out for her own across the table, their gentle wrinkles soft and cool underneath the visitor's sturdy pair, which she lightly rested on top. Esme's shook only slightly in acknowledgement of her increased life experience, but they were sure as she began signing beneath the visitor's palms, her blindness only a partial obstruction.

They closed their eyes simultaneously out of habit, although neither could have known it.

Met any men lately?

The words were butterfly fluttered beneath her hands, fluttering and lighthearted. Still, she resisted the urge to groan. Not her, too.

Are you and my sister taking notes from one another? The younger of the two signed back, to which Esme responded with a simple, back and forth spelling of, "H-a, H-a."

She's getting on your case too, then? Wise woman. You've only got so many birthing years left in you.

You sound like my father.

Which is where the conversation took an abrupt turn, deliberate on both of their parts.

Anything new? Esme asked with all the eagerness of a shut-in gossip, and Ahu couldn't really fault her for her curiosity. In the "Western Center for the Deaf" half of all communication involved being able to see what your opposite was "saying" via body language. Blind Esme was at a disadvantage on that account, her Usher's Syndrome complicating life further.

But communication wasn't entirely impossible; certainly two individuals could sign into one another's hands using the Tactile American Sign Language, but the connection she and her young visitor shared was one of mutual experience. Which somehow made a difference.

She hesitated a moment before responding.

Nothing much, she answered half-truthfully. Esme reached up to squeeze her fingers tightly at the lie, then went on to talk again, you hesitated. What's wrong?

The younger woman sighed and removed both hands for a moment to run a hand over the tangled, curly mass that was her hair.

I just…the garden is fine, so is the Heritage Park. The pumpkins are coming in nicely, just like everyone was hoping and…

It's about a man, isn't it?

The gardener had to laugh, No, Esme. At least…not a real man, anyway.

Yes?

I dreamed my mother came…and then my dream changed and I was hugging a man. I remember…softness. Warmth. Devotion. And then I woke up, which made it worse.

A combination of signs described her feelings, resulting in what was akin to emotional devastation. "Feel-Upset inside-Empty."

Esme clasped her hands in understanding and comfort.

Anything else? The old woman prompted, although in ASL it came off as a general gesture to continue elaborating.

Ahu hesitated, her solitary nature pressuring her not to say anything. But then again…it was Esme. The matron had never shared any of her secrets before.

I…I did touch his face, she admitted.

Yes, and? Her old friend was practically bouncing with eagerness.

And I think he had a beard and long mutton chops. They reached his jaw, she described the strange facial hair as best she could, finger-spelling 'hair' and then lifting the other woman's hands to her own cheeks. The elderly woman shook with laughter before motioning Ahu to go on.

His regular hair was thick. He had a fur coat on.

Are you sure you didn't dream of Ruru, then? Esme teased, form and hands the physical embodiment of humor. In seeming response to her question the large Husky shifted a little beneath the young woman's chair, bringing forth a smile to both their faces.

That might be. I don't usually like hairy men. Then, before the sixty-year old could ask about the kind of men that she did like, the girl continued. It just seems so strange, especially to be dreaming about my mother now. Her anniversary isn't until spring.

Her companion's shoulders moved into a shrug, shifting the hands her own now lay beneath, your people believe in ancestors giving advice ("family-before-past"). Maybe she's telling you something?

Warning me to stay away? She retorted wryly.

If so, then how did the dream make you feel?

That gave Ahu pause, which was enough for Esme to prompt her again, hands a steel trap.

YES?

Adored. It made me feel adored. And cherished.

See, then it couldn't have been all that bad.

The younger of the two was glad that she hadn't mentioned how he'd burrowed his face into her shoulder, warm breath and cold nose flush against the skin just below her ear. Nor even the feel of his arms securely wrapped around her, Ahu's hands circling his neck to cradle a heavy, furred head.

Furred? Where had that come from?

Blinking furiously, the young woman forced her mind to focus on the movements of her companion's fingers, the widow nattering about her son's experiences as interpreter to a diplomat. It seemed as though Esme's youngest was always off on some daring adventure, so she listened attentively, waiting as was expected for her to blatantly suggest that they date for what was the billionth time.

But Ahureway's answer was always the same: that she didn't want to inhibit his ability to go on grand adventures and do things like skydiving and parasailing. Besides, she had her responsibilities here to worry about, with both the Heritage Park's garden and her infrequent lectures at the University taking up her time.

Esme patted her hands in loving understanding, letting the issue go as she always did, and Ahu made her way toward the exit with Ruru pacing just before her. A goodbye to the secretary was followed by the intent to pick up groceries, the tapping staccato of her steps keeping time.

The wind greeted her again as she expertly treaded pavement, convivial and cool. It danced around her fingertips and teased the tendrils of her heavy curls, billowing the mass up like it was a thundercloud. She had to laugh as even her Husky nipped at the zephyr before returning to the important duty of walking down the path.

There were moments when she felt as though someone or something was whispering in her ears on the wind, the faint echoes of childish laughter causing her lungs to well within her chest and an unconscious smile to tumble across her cheeks. It made her want to dance in the old way and she satiated the desire with a few hummed bars of an aria she'd heard recently on the radio.

If anything the breath of sky released a childish sound of disgust, to which she could only laugh, disturbing a flock of birds to her right.

Truly, something was in the air.

Each sidewalk crag and crease was familiar beneath well-worn shoes, but so too was the switch to the metal ting of the supermarket entryway. Then it was the wash of canned atmosphere which came over her as swooshing doors swept open.

Longtime familiarity bred many things, including knowledge of the store's interior, and Ahu passed down aisles with unerring accuracy. She knew the exact location of each item she required, fingers dusting jars and containers with seeming idleness, and her take was mostly that of dairy products and processed foods she couldn't grow herself. Chatting amiably with the teller after having deposited her load was the closing statement to an already fairly pleasant day.

"Sorry Miss, but…your card was declined."

The apologetic tones of Billy the-cashier-used-to-be-a-bagger cut off warm thoughts and left her blinking.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't catch that."

She could sense his discomfort, the rustle of cloth mixing with a bit of a mumble. "Um…do you have another form of payment?" It was the politically correct affirmation that, yes, her card had been rejected, leaving her reeling for a moment. But Ahureway switched to cash smoothly enough that he probably had no inkling of her perturbation, the emergency funds dog-eared for identification.

The wind had picked up by the time she left with plastic sack in hand, its brisk bite no longer friendly, but finding the bus stop took little outside assistance so she attempted to ignore it and her lack of jacket. She couldn't discount Ruru's unease, however, the emotion trickling through despite the control her furred friend maintained. If anything the dog's feelings set something off in her, a kind of ominous anxiety which was confirmed when Mr. Nguyen, the bus driver, informed her that her bus pass was about to expire.

Similarly Sue, the owner of The Heritage Ranch and History Park, spoke with a heavy tone similar to a death toll as she handed off Ahu's mail.

"It looks like a hospital bill," the fifty-ish woman said in an apologetic hush as she shakily put the kettle on the carefully maintained cast-iron stove, its clatter a momentary distraction. The Heritage Park was half living museum, busy during the day with a hive of skilled reenactors, and half a working farm. The latter aspect was the young woman's domain. Certainly the vast corn field was maintained by way of some assistance but the garden had been planned carefully by the skilled female.

Just like the aged gardener before her Ahu lived on the property, her apartment made up what was once the cellar of the old, restored farmhouse. Which of course meant that her mail went through the hands of both her employer and landlady first.

Ahu sighed but smiled at her just the same with the hand now bearing the envelope, never mind that it was more like a grimace, "thank you, Sue."

"You're welcome. And please let me know when you'd like us to winterize your rooms."

"I will, thank you."

Frustration itching along her senses, Ahureway left with a swift nod. Anything to be out of the house; to be out of doors. The tourists hadn't quite left yet but she decided that it was time to get to work, for her own sake if not the plants'. Tugging on Wellington gumboots and letting Ruru wander freely, unharnessed, the earth soothed her hurts like a balm.

She was normally given to wearing gloves, a precaution against thorns and snags she couldn't see. Today, however, Ahureway instead crumpled moist soil between the creases and curves of her fingers, feeling it catch underneath her nails with the unrestrained smile of one finding solace. If anything, working with plants was akin to coming home, the home that she had left behind seventeen years ago. It reminded her that no matter where she went there it would be, welcoming her with open arms and friendly familiarity.

Basil mixed with garlic, chive, and parsley filled her breath as she passed the long beds, her hands ghosting over the round forms of ripe tomatoes, cucumbers and eggplant. The squash and pumpkin in the open sod expanse beside them were almost ripe, but while she would be harvesting the one fairly soon the other would remain in reserve until Halloween. A full third of The Heritage Park's revenue was made in October alone, selling pumpkins for Jack'O Lanterns, and Ahureway maintained a solemn sort of pride at her part in that process. Still, it was yet another sign that the farm was nearing its time of yield. Then she would be able to shift her focus toward winter vegetables, the greenhouse already half-prepped for an early planting.

There was a certainty in gardening that she couldn't find anywhere else, not in her work as a guest speaker nor even in the social life her sister tried so hard to develop for her. Ahu's friendship with Esme was the closest thing in regards to emotional satisfaction, a balanced relationship in which there was as much give as take.

And what she'd found in the dream had just been that: a dream. The concept that there was even someone like that out there for her was a ludicrous one. She might as well focus on life as she knew it, full of responsibility and financial expectations, instead of relying on fanciful, unlikely imaginings.

It was just better this way.

Thoughts caught up in the future, she didn't even register the disturbing presence until the shift of a foot on dirt stilled her actions. And then she was all business.

"Can I help you with something?" her words were polite and succinct, a worker's question. It was the kind of response which stated, 'If you've found me then you must be lost. No one is supposed to be over here.' Normally she might be more favorably verbal, but not today. Not with the wind turning cold on the onset of autumn, her thoughts a sky of thunderclouds.

The individual started audibly, their whole form jumping back and landing heavily for a moment.

Ahureway never looked up.

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AN: I actually visit a retirement home pretty often. :D It's great times, and I love each and every one of them. Esme is based off of a whole bunch of people that I know. There's Catherine and Alicia ("Ah-lee-SEA-ah" Spanish pronunciation) in general personality and independence.

Esme's blindness/deafness is based off a German woman named Erna, who was as a child lived through WWII and whom in her old age sees little and hears less. She's a sweetheart. ^^

Esme's desire to marry Ahu off is totally Iris in a go. Regrettably, Iris's short term memory only lasts a few minutes. She once asked me how old I was (26 years old) four times in a go, and asked me if I had a boyfriend three times. :)

And Ahu and Esme's actual relationship is that of mine and Jill. She's fantastic in every way, shape and form.

All data regarding Tactile Sign Language comes via my roommate, BlueCastle, who is training to become an ASL interpreter. She's awesome, I adore her. Please note, however, that American Sign Language does not have the same sentence structure as English.

The city and "Heritage Park" Ahu lives on are based off of two locations mixed and jumbled together.

Sorry if I got anything wrong, language and culture-wise. :S I'll explain more about it and my choices in the next chapter. :) Also, I apologize for taking so long to post. I'm regrettably dealing with finals right now. D: