Running. Rose was running quickly through dense jungle. She could tell by how the vines, leaves, and branches tugged at her clothes and whipped her face as she ran, otherwise the rest of her world was shrouded by her night blindness. Quicker she ran, as something nefarious was in pursuit. She tripped on a rogue tree root and went careening headfirst into a clearing. Here, enough daylight shone through to restore her vision once more. A man stood in the clearing, his back to her. Rose looked down and quickly gathered herself, but stopped upon discovering that she was no longer a girl, but a woman. Suddenly, she found herself very self-conscious about walking upon her lanky legs, and she shakily approached the man in front of her. She knew this man. When she touched his shoulder he turned, though his facial features were foreign to her, concealed in shadows. Despite this, she trusted him, and he took her in his arms and held her. She was comfortable there, and felt safe knowing he was holding her tightly in his firm embrace. This lasted for but a moment, however, as he ended the embrace by shoving Rose violently away from him. No longer was the ground solid, and she fell deep down into a treacherous pit, watching her traitorous friend smiling devilishly at her descent from above.

When she hit the bottom of the pit, Rose awoke with a start. It was only a dream. She was still fifteen-year old Rose, still in the bayou with Tia Dalma, still just…waiting.

She had been disturbed by the nightmare in the middle of the night, and she could not see a thing in the room she was in. The room upstairs was to be her home for the next…however long Jack would be detained this time. This room was small, misshapen, rhombus-like in both width and height. The banyan tree continued to grow through the architecture of the shack and into this room, making it even more uneven, unleveled, and unbearably small. Rose had a temporary living space upon two large crates, which made for a very uncomfortable sleeping space. It had taken ages for her to finally go to sleep, and now, in the middle of the night, there was no hope in her trying to return back to her slumber. So instead, Rose sat up and stumbled around until she found the window overlooking the bayou. To her great surprise, Rose could see little hovering lights in the distance. They would bob and float for awhile, then extinguish, then illuminate once again. They were sporadic, but hypnotic. Rose would ultimately come to discover that these lights were actually fireflies, but for the moment, their mysterious qualities filled the large, empty void inside her.

Tia finally arrived with a candelabra to retrieve her, never questioning the girl's night blindness. Wordlessly, Rose followed her down the crooked, narrow stairs that led into the main room. Tia motioned for Rose to sit, and upon doing so, she was served a steaming bowl of beige-colored broth.

Rose grimaced, poking at the lumpy soup with her spoon. "What's this?" she asked as politely as she could.

"Food," was the only reply she got, then Tia Dalma disappeared into the side storage room. It was clear that the soothsayer was just as displeased with having to care for Rose as Rose was at having to stay at the dilapidated hospice.

Rose slurped unenthusiastically at the 'food,' though even categorizing it as an edible form of sustenance was a bit of a stretch. Suddenly, the door swung wide open on its hinge, as a large, muscular bayou-dweller marched inside. He and Rose exchanged a confused glance, each silently asking the other Who are you, and what are you doing here?

"Tia Dalma!" the man cried out.

Tia answered to the call, sweeping through the beaded curtain that led into the main room. She leaned on one hip and bit her lip seductively. "Ayyyy…" she croaked. "Id has been far too long!"

The man walked so that he was looming imposingly over Tia, saying in her same accent, "Da pigs 'ave da fever agin. Can ya charm dem from da sickness?"

Tia Dalma placed a finger to his lips. "Fer a price," she cooed.

He grinned. "Oh I brought payment…" He leaned down, kissing her neck as she giggled. Tia then looked over, seeing a disturbed-looking Rose still sitting at the table, mouth agape. Tia only widened her eyes, motioning with her head and a tight jaw for the girl to go upstairs and stay there.

Rose was more than happy to leave the awkward situation, taking the candelabra with her for sight. She closed the door to her room behind her, taking a good, long look at the great mess of the tiny storage room. She set the candelabra down and began to investigate the many dusty, cobweb strewn crates and piles of stacked and hoarded goods. Ultimately, more than half of the items were broken, expired, or unidentifiable. Rose began to form a pile of these things to take out of the room. If she was going to live here for God only knew how long, she was going to make a livable abode. Besides the garbage, there were rich, luscious fabrics and other luxury items found throughout the place. Rose counted five trunks, three armchairs, and four crates in separate corners of the room. However, there were no cushions anywhere in sight. Rose was not about to live the rest of her time here cozying up to a hard wooden plank bed, so instead she used one of the draperies and some rope to fashion a hammock, tying one end to a study beam and the other to a branch of the banyan tree that was growing through the wall. She situated it so that she could look out the window from the hammock when she was restless so she could watch the fireflies by night.

When she heard Tia's male visitor leave the shack, Rose gathered the garbage she had collected and began her descent down the stairs to properly dispose of it all. Unfortunately, Rose was still not accustomed to the uneven steps and lost her footing, tripping down the rest of the way and falling straight into a large dresser. The large wooden piece of furniture tipped over, crashing to the ground and sending all of its contents spilling all over the floor.

Tia Dalma flew into the room. "Fool!" she cried. "Look ad whad you've done!"

"I'm sorry!" Rose cried, looking over the damage she had caused. "I was just cleaning out the room upstairs—"

"Who sed ya could do dat?"

"It's my room, I only thought—"

"Id is NOT yer room! I'm lettin' ya stay 'ere."

"If I am to live here, I may as well do something!"

"Besides makin' a mess o' things?"

Rose motioned to the bundle of trash in her arms. "These things are ruined! You can't possibly have any use for them!"

Tia Dalma stomped over to the girl, yanking the things away from her. "Dey are my things! Ye shall not throw any of dem away, ye hear?" Rose nodded bitterly, and as Tia walked away, placing each item in a new home around the main room. She turned back to Rose, saying, "Put demm back how ya found 'em!"

Rose realized she was talking about the contents of the dresser she had knocked over. She leaned down, lifting the large piece of furniture back upright and picking up as many of the tiny drawers as her hands could carry, seeing that their contents were dried up leaves and flowers.

"But, they're leaves! They all look alike! How will I know—"

"You'll learn!" Tia yelled, pushing aside the beaded curtain into the side room and sweeping inside it.

Rose huffed, kneeling down by the seemingly endless scattered piles of dried nonsense. She first separated them by color, then size, then was left with a large pile of green that she had no idea what to do with. She looked over and saw Tia judging her through the beaded curtain.

"What are these?" Rose asked.

"Herbs," Tia replied. "Fer sickness n' healin'."

Rose gulped. "I can replace the rest. Tell me where to find them and I'll retrieve more."

"Nay," said Tia. "Ya will retrieve more soon, but fer now, ya will separate da rest."

Rose shook her head. "It's impossible!"

"Ya 'ave two more senses, as I recall. Taste n' smell."

Rose narrowed her eyes, then began picking up leaf by leaf, smelling and tasting each one. It took the rest of the day, but ultimately, she was able to delineate which herb was which.

At one point when Tia passed by her, Rose said, "I like the smell of this one. What is it?"

Tia leaned over and smelled the leaf Rose held out to her. "Monarda," she finally said. "Fer da skin."

While she had her stopped, Rose grabbed one of the small drawers, filled with wide, pointy leaves. "And these?"

"Comfrey."

"What do they do?"

"Many tings. Bones, skin, burns…"

This interrogation continued about each drawer so long that Tia ultimately had to kneel next to Rose to answer all her questions. Rose was making mental notes in her head about all that Tia was telling her.

In the morning, Tia Dalma awoke and entered the main room only to find Rose still hard at work.

"Whad ar ya doin'?" she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Rose spun around, and grinned proudly. "Look!" she cried. "I've labeled each drawer with the plant's name, then arranged the drawers based on their uses." She began to point them out as she explained. "See, here is the skin, here are the one for stomach pains, here is eyesight, and over there is infections." She looked back at Tia for some sort of reaction, and caught the soothsayer smiling with only her eyes.

Finally, the woman said, "Get some rest. Ya 'ave been at dis fer da whole night."


"Rose!"

Rose was awakened in the late afternoon by the sound of Tia's voice coming from downstairs.

She rolled out of her hammock and walked down the stairs to answer the call. She found Tia sitting calmly behind her table in the main room, while a fellow bayou dweller woman held her young son by the shoulders, who was writhing in pain.

"Dis woman's boy be burned," Tia said to Rose, leaning forward with gleaming eyes. "Whad herb ya be giving dem?"

Rose swallowed. This was a real patient with a real problem. Tia was challenging her, testing her knowledge of the herbs she had just reorganized.

Walking down the stairs and over to the boy, Rose asked to see the burn. She slightly recoiled when she saw how raw the skin of the boy's hand was. She gulped, looking to Tia for any sort of sign, but she found only her stoic expression looking back at her.

"Well," Rose began. "We have several hypericum leaves…"

"And whad do dey do wid dem?" Tia asked.

Rose considered this for a moment, then remembering, said, "I can grind them into an ointment that you should apply to the burn." She then looked to Tia to see if she was correct.

Tia did nod, signaling that she was right in her prescription, but also said, "Aloe be stronger, n' more potent ferr dis sort of burn."

Rose felt disappointment and anger well up inside her, though seeing Tia Dalma's encouraging smile certainly made her feel ever so slightly accomplished. She smiled back, then went to cut a stem of fresh growing aloe for the mother and son.