(Theme #47 - "Deja Vu")
"Oy, Jing," Kir said one morning, after he'd woken to find a faint smattering of frost on his feathers after a sudden plunge in temperature the night before. "You decided what we're going to do this winter? Where're we goin', huh?"
"I'm not sure yet," Jing answered, although he pulled his yellow coat tighter against the chill before retrieving his knapsack. "But I've been thinking of..."
"Amarula? Galliano? Coco Oco?"
"Thinking about Mimosa again?" Jing smiled despite himself.
Kir feather's fluffed up slightly, signifying embarrassment. "You said you'd stop teasing me about that," he muttered.
"Sorry," the Bandit King replied immediately, although his tone lacked a certain contriteness. "Actually, I've been thinking about spending it at... in Amarcord."
Kir didn't miss the slight hesitation, nor the altered phrasing. But he did not comment on it, and instead only said neutrally, "Oh?"
"We don't have to," Jing said hurriedly, as though he were chagrined at having suggested it. "If you'd rather--"
"No, it's okay," the albatross took his usual perch and gave his human partner an encouraging smile. "It's been a while since we've been back there, hasn't it? It'll be a nice change."
Jing nodded hesitantly, and the plan was made.
---
The region of Amarcord never seemed to change. It couldn't be called a cheerful place, although there were certainly more sinister surroundings to be had in Aquavitae, but there was something dark about it. To the traveling pair, however, it spoke only of home. Ancient summer days filled with grassy fields and laughter, long since withered away. Familiar roads passed until booted feet, until they came upon the town of Balalaika, central to Amarcord.
"Looks the same, doesn't it?" Jing commented, gazing at the steepled roofs that spiked into the afternoon sky.
"Yep," Kir answered, bobbing his head. "Kinda nice that way."
The Bandit King gave his feathered companion an unreadable look, but continued down the road that would branch to run both towards the village, and also the winding path that would lead up the hill towards the forest.
"You okay with coming here?" Kir asked quietly, when Jing paused at the crossroads.
"I don't want to go into town yet," Jing answered, almost inaudible.
"Then let's not," the albatross responded casually. "The house probably needs to be aired out first anyway, y'know?"
---
Jing stood under the oak tree at the edge of the clearing and regarded the small wooden house across from him. Sunlight dappled the front door, which was shut tightly against any of nature's intrusions, as were the shutters. The house looked somewhat standoffish that way, which didn't suit it at all. He knew the house, knew the interior and exterior with fanatical detail, every nook and cranny and nail worked loose by time and the elements. But the small details that were supposed to personalize the building were missing.
The young man settled a hand on the door's wooden handle, and when he pushed it open, it swept inside dirt and leaves as well. He felt Kir's talons tighten reassuringly on his shoulder, and he appreciated the comfort as he stepped inside his house. With the shutters drawn, only the outlines of the table and chairs were visible, but since he never moved things around, he knew precisely where each obstacle was. The hearth sat dark and empty, the scent of burnt pine still lingering in the corners of the main room.
"Welcome home, eh Kir?" Jing said, and although his voice was barely above a whisper, it seemed too loud for the otherwise silent room. The albatross shifted a little, hearing the conflicting emotions in the young man's voice and sympathizing.
"You okay?" Kir asked cautiously.
"That's the second time you've asked me that."
"Because you've got me worried, Jing."
The Bandit King finally tore his gaze away from the empty room and gave the bird a small smile; slightly pained by memories but honest. "Sorry. I'm okay, really. It's just been a while, that's all. Let's get some of these shutters open so we can see, hmm?"
---
It took them about an hour to get all the windows open; many of them had been sealed shut during the winter season. Has it really been eight months since I've been here? Jing thought, as he dumped yet another armful of dead leaves outside and took up the broom again, sweeping the dust past the threshold. "Kir? Can you check the lamps? We probably need oil." Kir flew to the glass lamps set on the shelves, and after a moment, announced, "Two are empty and one's almost empty. We don't have any oil in the cellar?"
"I think we used it all last time."
The bird harrumphed, and began a shopping list. "We're gonna need more than just oil, Jing. Most of the supplies are running low."
Jing sighed. He hadn't wanted to go into town on the first day back, but it was looking more and more unavoidable. At least if they wanted to eat breakfast tomorrow morning.
---
Jing was stalling, Kir realized, although he was hiding it admirably well by using housecleaning as an excuse. The small abode was now nearly pristine, all traces of dust and time swept back outdoors. He had to admit, it looked quite homely once more. It was just a shame that Jing would never see it as such again.
"So, everything up to snuff?" he inquired, as he and Jing flopped down onto the ancient couch, which creaked in protest.
The grey-eyed young man smiled. "Sure, Kir. You don't think a little hard work is good for you?"
"It's good for my appetite," the bird smirked. "So how about we go get one of those pies in town?"
"Sweet potato pie," Jing said wistfully. "And pumpkin pie."
"And cider," Kir added, beaming.
"With cinnamon," the youth agreed, putting his hands behind his head. "And sugar bread."
"With jam."
"The good kind, with chunks of fruit--"
"Argh, now I'm starvin'!" Kir spread his wings. "Let's go, let's go!"
---
Balalaika cast long shadows in the dusk, interspersed with the orange glow of the streetlamps just being lit. Kir noticed that Jing didn't hesitate at the crossroad this time, as though he'd come to some internal equilibrium about this place. It was a good thing to see, and though he wouldn't say so aloud, the albatross was relieved.
The cobbled streets were filled with the peaceful murmur of townsfolk. There were a few muted voices of surprise as people recognized his distinct yellow coat, but other than a few curious and evaluating glances, they were unaccosted.
"Thank you," Jing said, accepting two steaming bowls of stew and a box with two slices of pie from a street vendor. He put two gold coins on the counter, but the man merely turned away, disregarding the payment.
The Bandit King faltered slightly, then carried the meals to the plaza after leaving the coins where they sat. Kir was waiting eagerly on a long bench, but when he saw the look on Jing's face, he asked, "What's up? They run out of cider?"
"No, I... when I paid the vendor, he gave me a weird look and didn't take the coins." He divided the food between them and although Kir dug eagerly into his portion, Jing merely turned the bowl of stew back and forth in his hands, shoulders hunched slightly.
"Maybe it's like a welcome home gift," the albatross said between bites. "You are kinda famous, after all."
"How ironic," Jing said softly, "Considering I come here to stop being famous for a while."
Kir paused in his meal, frowning, and scooted a bit closer to his companion's side. "Eat up before it gets cold, eh?"
Jing gave a small smile and did so.
---
Kir held the door open for Jing with one wing, as the young man currently was weighted down with two quarts of lamp oil in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. The expression of concentration on his face caused the bird to burst into laughter. "Oy, Jing, now that's just funny!"
"... What is?"
"You bein' able to steal stars and all, but can't go shopping without getting in over his head. You need help?"
"Oh, real funny," Jing grumbled, not noticing the look he was getting from the shopkeeper. "No, I'm fine with -- oh hell. I forgot our book, Kir."
"You did?" Perhaps it was a guilty pleasure, but both of them liked to read -- or rather, Jing liked to read and Kir liked to be read to. Choosing a new book from the tiny library in Balalaika was a habit they indulged in whenever they returned to Amarcord; it passed the quiet nights by the hearth peacefully. "You sure are bird-brained today! I'll go get it," the bird said, and spreading his wings, flew away.
"Thanks..." Jing called after him, adjusted the paper sacks in his arms, and stepped down to the cobblestone street just in time to collide with two much smaller bodies. His balance already compromised by the packages, he slipped and sat down hard, spilling apples across the street.
"Oww..." Two young boys, in slightly ragged looking clothes, were rubbing their heads in pain. "Basil, you were supposed to watch where we were going!"
"I was, Dill!"
Jing was struck by a wave of familiarity as he watched the two bicker. "Hey," he said, getting their attention. "Don't worry about it, no one's hurt."
They stopped their argument to look at him, scrutinizing him carefully, and Basil had just opened his mouth to say something when an stern female voice rang through the alleyway. "Boys? Are you down there?"
They looked at each other, cornered. "Crap! An Auntie!"
"In here," Jing said, pushing a loose brick in the alley wall to reveal a small tunnel, wide enough for the forms of the young boys. He smiled nostalgically and added, "It goes all the way to the bakery. See if Mrs. Apello has any extra cookies."
Delighted, both boys squirmed into the tunnel, and one of them whispered over his shoulder, "Thanks, mister!"
Jing let the tunnel close behind them and turned his attention back to the apples which had scattered, and began picking them up. I think I prefer aniki to mister, though... He felt eyes upon him and straightened, raising his gaze to meet the elderly woman who was standing with her hands on her hips.
"Should I be surprised?" she asked.
"By what?"
"Don't get cheeky with me, young man," she said primly.
"Yes, Auntie," Jing replied automatically, and then blinked, surprised at himself. Even after so long, I still do that...?
The stern look on the elder's face softened into a smile. "It's good to see you've come back again. It's been a while, hasn't it?" When he did not answer, she continued kindly, "The people around here like it when you stop by."
"They don't," the Bandit King disagreed. "They act... so strange. Like they're wary of me."
"Perhaps," she allowed. "But could that be because you are equally suspicious of them?" Before he could open his mouth for a denial, she added, "It's all right, I suppose it's become natural for you now, hasn't it?"
Ash-coloured eyes lowered, and for a moment she wished they'd blazed in defiance like they used to; things really had changed. The woman approached him slowly, as though worried he might bolt, but he stayed rooted to the spot. Somehow she'd known that he would grow up to be tall, but now seeing him a head taller than herself, when she remembered an impudent little boy no higher than her hip, was still a shock.
"It is good to see you again, Jing."
The Bandit King tried not to wince, but hearing an Auntie call him by name normally meant he was in trouble. Yet when he looked up, she only smiled fondly at him. "You haven't seen two little rascals around, have you? They're late for dinner."
"Nope," Jing lied without missing a beat.
"Of course not," The woman shook her head ruefully. "Well, I'll keep looking then. Take care, Jing."
"Goodbye, Auntie."
---
Later that night, after he and Kir had left Balalaika and returned to the house, after the oil lamps had been refilled and the supplies replenished, Jing lounged in his hammock. Kir was snuggled into his side, listening to Jing read from the book they'd taken from the library. The book talked about song and giants and empires, but Kir didn't listen so much to the individual words as the soothing flow of the voice reading it.
Jing finished a chapter and closed the book; Kir expected him to announce bedtime, but instead the young man said, "I talked to an Auntie today in town."
"Oh?"
"She said... I'm different now, that's why the people treat me oddly." Jing's eyes flickered with veiled emotion. "Is it true, Kir? Have I really changed that much?"
Kir looked at him, really looked at him. Remembered the carefree child and contrasted it with the heavy-hearted young man before him now, who tried to smile like he used to but couldn't quite make it reach his eyes anymore.
And Kir would not lie. "You've changed a lot, Jing," he said truthfully.
Jing sighed, put the book aside, and reclined in the hammock which was also his bed. "I know. I know."
Nothing more was said on the subject, but Kir somehow doubted they'd spend all winter in Amarcord, and silently lamented that.
---
Notes:
Amarula Cream is a South African cream liqueur made from the fruit of the Marula tree, also known as Sclerocarya birrea or "The Elephant Tree", and cream. The fruit is fermented and then distilled in copper pot-stills. The marula liquor is then stored on small oak casks for two years before it is enriched with pure marula extract and blended with fresh cream. Amarula Cream is best served chilled, on the rocks or with crushed ice. It can also be used in desserts and cocktails. An opened bottle should be stored in a cool and dark place for no more than a year. In the USA Amarula can now be purchased from African Trading Company, AZ. Galliano, also known as Liquore Galliano, is a sweet, yellow Italian herbal liqueur. It is flavored with various herbs, flowers and spices, including anise, licorice and vanilla, giving it an unique taste. Apello: Ingredients: 4 cl Orange juice, 3 cl Grapefruit juice, 1 cl Apple juice, 1 Maraschino cherry. Stir. Grnish with maraschino cherry.