Chapter 2: An ache in her heart.
Cold webs of moonlight scattered across the stone floor of Loretta's lonesome home. Ever since Toby had left, it had been quiet. Not a word was said inside, as if the inhabitant was afraid that breaking the unbearable silence would also shatter every memory that she held inside of her constantly. Memories of Toby. Memories of happiness. Loretta sighed and wistfully looked out of the single small window that graced the room with moonlight. Stroking Blacky, a cat that she knows, she began to dream of quiet yesterdays and fairweather smiles.
Loretta was but 13 once more, standing in the orphan line at the orphanage. Loretta was always just a slip of a girl, so slender that all the other kids made fun of her and avoided her. She'd never known her mother. The slate grey stones of the orphanage building toppled and loomed like the castle of a vampire. Loretta shuddered and held her satchel close to her heart. It had been fifteen days since she left Crystal Valley, her parent's beautiful mansion. She felt so sick, all of the horrible holidays that had occurred that month had been both exhausting and arachnaphobia-inducing. The large iron gate creaked with the wind, and a tall, pale man closed it shut behind them. A few blackened rose bushes clung wearily to the tall and unforgiving walls, which seemed to want to deny them. Scabby little kids were all around Loretta, rubbing their noses and eyes, one kid was vomiting into the roses. "He seems nice," Loretta remembered. All of the kids laughed at her. She was given the duties of washing dishes, pulling weeds, and dusting. In the days that followed, Loretta spent most of her time doing these things. It wasn't easy, but she never complained, because everyone around her had to do similar missions. She had no friends. She rarely saw the boy who had thrown up, who all the kids had nicknamed "Puke". The kids had given everyone a nickname. Those little boogers just hit it off so well, all except Loretta. Half of them called her "StarEyes" and the other half had just shortened her name to Lana. It seemed like everything here was drabbed down. People with pretty clothes were given dull, raggedy, patch-ridden potato sacks or the like. Loretta had her suitcase exchanged for a paper bag, which all of her beautiful belongings were getting dusty in. She only had two belongings. One of them was a book of love poems. "You are a princess" her father had told her when he gave it to her. "A special princess." And one was a tiny silver music box that played the song "Hey Jude" by The Beatles. With the passing of time, the music box was tarnished, and many of the pages of the poem book were torn out. She kept all of the torn out pages in the book though. Just, it was hard to keep those guys in there. The only food they gave to the kids was chicken soup. Two meals a day. No lunch. Sometimes there were activities, like walks, spelling bees, and talent shows, but Loretta always hid in a corner, because she couldn't walk as fast, and was too shy to spell, and didn't think she was talented. Oh, but she was. Sometimes she wove the weeds she weeded into beautiful little blankets. But was too shy to show them to people. One morning she heard whistling at the window. A light, whimsical chirp, flowing up and down like a wave made out of harps. She opened her droopy eyes and looked to see a little blue sparrow on the sill of the window. "Where have you come from?" she asked, but then a little girl with red hair chased it away. "He's going to defecate on the sill, and it's my job to keep that thing clean!" Geez, thought Loretta. That poser's got some nerve, chasing away my only friend. When she was washing dishes, she heard the sound again, and raced to the kitchen window. The red head girl chortled down the stairs and threw a kettle at the windowsill. "Quit encouraging it!" she screamed. "Snively whiner." Hurtled Loretta through her teeth. Why didn't the girl want Loretta to be happy? Loretta awakened that night to whispered chirping. She scanned the room with her long amber eyes and rested them not on the sparrow but on a little cricket with a feather in it's mouth. Of course it hadn't eaten the sparrow! It was bringing a message written on a feather. Loretta reached for it but the sleeping redhead girl rolled over and smashed the cricket. Loretta was so sorrowful that she kicked that murderous bloke as hard as she could, and then pretended to be asleep when the poor wretch woke up screaming. Loretta cried all night. Then at 5 she got up and opened the window, and sprinkled a few pieces of her paper bag out for the bird. And sure enough the dazzling little baby thing flew up to the sill and started to eat the paper bag pieces. Cute little guy. Loretta stroked it with her pinky. "Do you know where 'Puke' is?" She asked it. It nodded. "Will you give him this?" she required once more, handing the sooty little victim a torn out page from her book of love poems. The poem was titled "Ruby Ring Memories". The bird offed with it and flew stunningly up to Puke's little room in the attic. In the days that followed, Loretta sent drawings, poems, jokes, and pieces of candy (which she'd taken from the burly guards herself while they thought she was washing the dishes). Finally, when Loretta was dusting she came across the pile of all of her little gifts up in the attic room. She cut off a curl of her long amber hair and added it to the treasure. That night she discovered the curl in the redhead girl's pillow! Along with several candy wrappers of candies she's expressly given to the boy. This time when she kicked the redhead girl she couldn't pretend to be asleep. She was crying too loud.
"Why did you take away Puke's presents?"
"Oh, we're going out. I didn't know you gave them to him. I'm sorry."
"You stole them!"
"No, we're going out. I met him when I was up there scrubbing the window sill. He was reading one of the poems. I tried to steal one of the candies but he caught me, and we talked, and decided to go out. I really like him."
"But..... but...." Loretta couldn't stand it. That horrible woman took her guy! He probably thought that it was redhead who gave him all that stuff. WHAT!
Loretta went to sleep, and then kicked the redheaded snob again. This time with her fists too. The following day a large carton of chocolate syrup was delivered to the orphanage while Loretta was washing dishes. Still tearstained from the previous night, and thinking quickly, Loretta, aching with revenge, took one of the newly cleaned bowls, poured the syrup into it, and made a mixture of mud, water, and sugar to stand in as the syrup in the actual carton. It would probably taste the same anyways. As if anything here didn't taste like sugary mud. She stood the bowl on a windowsill overlooking some roses that the snobby little excuse for a redhead was tending, then she dumped half of it. The other half she left in the bowl on a shutter that was a particularly sticky windowsill, so Skipper was scrubbing away when BANG the bowl, contents and all, spilled into her fiery curls. The teacher let her take a bath. At dinner they announced that the kids were getting a special treat-chocolate fudge sundaes! Loretta didn't want one.
Chapter 3: Quiet Love.
In the days that followed, Loretta ate hardly anything and went hardly anywhere. She'd had her sugary sweet revenge and was finished. Skipper knew it was her who'd spilled the chocolate, but kept quiet just in case. Christmas came and went, and finally it was the next year and before Loretta knew it she was 14. She'd gotten used to being called Lana by now. She could hardly remember that her name was Loretta and she was special. Saint Patrick's day dawned golden, and all of the roses bloomed. Puke was acting really random and mean, pinching even people who wore green. Loretta wasn't so sure about him anymore. By dinnertime, when he was sticking noodles up his nose, Loretta really was sure. Sure that they were over. So was Skipper too. The two girls stayed up until 11 talking about how much they hated him. And how gross he was. They wrote some poems about it and giggled, and then by the time they fell asleep they knew they were fast friends. "My name is Penky, but they nicknamed me Skipper because I look like Skipper only with red hair."
"My nickname is Lana, and my name...." but Loretta couldn't remember. She couldn't decide whether to giggle or cry. By now half of her poetry book was gone... gone to the kid everyone called Puke. And her music box had been stolen by the police. Then the teacher tried to take away her poem book. "NO!" she screamed. But it was no use. That night, Penky and Loretta slipped soundlessly down the dusty stairs and into the teacher's room, where they quenched the love poem book, and slunk into the night like two quiet and majestic hyenas. Where was this orphanage anyway? It turned out to be on an island. They began to build a boat out of a hollowed out stump. The police woke up and looked out his window at the two runaway hostages on the shore of the dark swampy lake. He sidled out of bed and downstairs to have his donuts and coffee, not rushing or anything.
"Hurry" said Loretta. "They'll be here soon."
"I can't push it into the lake by myself!"
So Loretta got out and helped just as the squad car flung itself into view. And they were off! Paddling with their hands, they got to the middle of the lake, and then both of them slumped, exhausted, into the boat, and stopped paddling.
"How far are we from shore?"
"Not too far. I'm so hungry, we should have brought something."
Just then the sparrow came, with some french fries in his beak. They each ate one. "I'm still hungry," Penky groaned. The sparrow couldn't do anything about it. The lake was placid, echoing their peaceful ripples out to the surrounding cliffs, and splattering what was left of them against the stones. Loretta wondered if maybe they could just drift to shore. She sat wondering that when something caught her eye. At the bottom of the lake was something silver. Without thinking, she dove in. Loretta didn't know how to swim, but she managed well enough. Tumbling down into the icy depths of the crystal green lake, she reached for the silver object and finally had both her hands around it. Aha! It was the music box! Breaking to the surface once more, she wound the blessed thing, while saying "This is the song my mother used to sing." Hey Jude chimed out of it shyly, mechanically. Like a shy, mechanic, ghost that breezes through windchimes. The ghost of Loretta's father. Whispering constantly "You are a precious, precious princess." The sun was crashing into the horizon and letting off shards of red and orange into the sky by the time Loretta and Penky reached shore. It was another island, with a neighborhood and forest. Loretta and Penky stumbled into the forest, looking all around at the bleak darkness. The trees caught sunlight and pushed it back out, but was not very vigilant, as sometimes a few sinking rays met the leaf-covered floor of the glade. All summer Loretta and Penky spent building a boxy little house deep in the ferny forest. It was a small house, about as big as your room, with a single window. Finally autumn crept on slender arms and reached the little house. The leaves blew in the windows.
Loretta and Penky loved autumn. She looked out the window and saw Penky lolloping into view. "I took some metal bars from a nearby jail to build a barbecue pit with!" she said breathlessly.
"Well then, I'll go see if the baker will get us some steak." Loretta smiled peacefully. The scars of her past were becoming less of scars and more of just memories. Clouded, meaningless memories. A piece of her past, and not a constant, haunting nightmare. She was alive once more. She picked up the sides of her homemade wine-colored skirt and began walking carefully towards the town. About halfway there she saw a man stealing her horse, Brownie. She tackled him and they became friends. Together they walked to town.
"Who are you?" Loretta asked.
"My name is Christ. I've lived here all of my life. I've heard many stories about you. I just don't have a horse, so I thought I'd take that one."
Loretta studied him. He was wearing a green shirt, blue jeans, black shoes, and had tired, yet brilliant blue eyes. Brown hair with gold highlights. He looked like her father.
"My name is Lana." She said, slipping her hand into his, like a smooth poker player slips cards onto the table. Smoothly.
They managed to get to town, and she saw the constable asking the jailer who must have taken the bars. "Some dadburned girl. Looked a tad like that one right there." He said, pointing to Loretta. Staring right at her freckly face. Christ pulled her into an alley.
"What just happened?" he asked.
"Uh, my best friend stole something."
"It's okay, let me take care of this. I'll go buy the steak, you stay here."
"Okay" she said. She sat down and hid behind a trash can. A few muggers came up and spraypainted a sign then took a guy's wallet, but they didn't notice her. Finally Christ came back. "Here is your steak dear missy," He huskily managed out of his smile.
"You're the best!" She replied, meaning it with all her might. Arm in arm, they ran back to the wood house, where all of them had a rollicking barbecue. The next morning, Christ was gone. And Penky wouldn't get up. "Wake up! Penky! Skipper!" Loretta screamed. Penky opened her drooping eyes, and her chapped mouth, and whispered, "I'm dying. I can't help it. We all must go sometime, and today was my time. Don't mourn my loss. I am nothing. I am a bee on the wind. A flower in winter. Just. A. Flower." and Penky's head drooled to one side, while Loretta wept on. The funeral was held the next day. The week after that, Loretta had not eaten a single thing when she looked outside and saw the barbecue being taken away by some cats! Mangy mutts! Sticky-fingered-tabbies! She'd go after them when she was done crying. The next day Loretta put on a very nice hat, and went to town. She saw the cats in the window of a house. A tea party was going on in there. Loretta put her pale, shaking hand around the door and opened it. She walked in, and a butler greeted her and sat her on a lavender loveseat. Her hat made her blend right in with the other people there. "I am going to go wash my hands." she said, and snuck away. She removed her hat and took some of the pretty carved soaps from the bathroom. She looked under the sink for catfood, and sure enough, an entire bag, which she put in her pocket. She went back out, accidentally forgetting her hat. But that was okay. Without the hat she blended in nicely with the maids. "Uh, Drisel... Ana.... Could you get us some more sugar, ma'am?" asked one of the woman, who didn't know Loretta's name. Loretta nodded and went into the kitchen, she looked around everywhere but couldn't find sugar. So she used salt. And crumbled soap into it. She brought out the pinkish sandlike mixture. Coming back into the kitchen she stepped on a cricket. Streaks of red memory flung themselves back into her her ever-sorrowful mind. "Penky, I will recover my last link to you." and she looked out the window to see the cats playing on the barbecue pit! Those fiends! She ran out there and threw that cat food into a bush, where all of the cats followed it. She picked up the barbecue pit and carried it out the gate. Finally she was reunited to her sister-of-heart's last gift to the world. She and the pit walked hand in hand back to the house. The sky was bright with autumn clouds and the forest smelled of rosemary. The birds dropped their gift of song down through the treetops, and faint pink roses were growing nextdoor to black berries. Loretta sat in the forest for a bit, before returning home. When she got home something seemed wrong. Loretta ran into the house. Penky was nowhere in sight. Loretta ran to the seashore, where their old boat sat docked. Penky was lying in the old boat, motionless. Not a breath escaped her chapped lips. Loretta shook her awake, and Penky opened her drooping eyes.
"I'm dying."
"Don't." Loretta whispered, blinking back tears.
"I can't help it. We all must go sometime, and now was my time. Don't mourn my loss. I am nothing. I am a whisper on the wind. A flower of joy in the pebbles of time. Just. A. Flower." Penky held up a rose she'd been holding. It was the most stunningly red rose Loretta had ever seen. Redder than Penky's hair. A thorn pricked Penky as she quenched the rose tightly, and crimson blood dripped down into her mouth.
"I can't be here anymore, Loretta, the other worlds need me there. But it was so nice to know you. So nice to see you care. Young girl, you are precious." And Penky's consciousness drifted away just like feathers on the wind. Slowly, she died. Loretta pushed the boat out to sea.
"Oh Penky, who so loved the water. How fitting for you." and she suppressed a giggle, breaking down instead, and hitting her knees like a friar who decided not to steal anymore. She dug her hands into the sand, and rubbed it on her face painfully, trying to ease the pain within. The pain that wouldn't leave. Uneasable. It's so easy.
Chapter 4: The Search for Hope and Happiness.
It wouldn't have been so bad if Loretta had any company at all, but the sparrow took ill and died the following morning, and she made a canoe for it out of a half of a pecan, and it followed Penky out to the deep blue.
"Christ!" said Loretta. "Everyone is dying!"
A new sparrow came. "Fly, fly to the man I once knew. Tell him Lana needs him. Tell him to remember the day when we ate the steak." And with a reassuring chirp, it disappeared out to the deep blue. A few days later, Christ came.
"You got the sparrow's message!" she said.
"The sparrow sent a message?" he asked.
You don't know this yet, but the sparrow mistook a dying old man for Christ and gave him the message instead.
Christ built a tree house not far from the little box house. The last day they were together, Christ brought a steak from town and they cooked it, smiling at eachother, their faces aglow with relfected flames, their hearts, hands, and steak all warm.
In the middle of the night Loretta awoke to the sound of a storm. It was rocking the house back and forth and wind was blowing in the little window. A tree broke. It was the tree on the treehouse. The treehouse of Christ.
"Christ!" Loretta called through the blackening tempest. "Christ!" but there was no sound. In all the rain she saw the treehouse now reduced to just a stump, and Christs arm was bent straight in half under it. She couldn't find the rest of him, but the hand had a note saying "I love you, and you can have the box of stuff if I'm dead."
Loretta went through the box of stuff but it was only knickknacks, a diary, and some cloaks. What use had she of these? She put the box and everything into her house, and sat down and cried. Why was she alive? What exactly was going on? "Christ." she whispered. She looked at the house. A mark was on the wall near a chair, where Penky used to like to put her feet. It had scratched through the paint. A bag of bird seed sat in a corner for the sparrow. And then there was the box of cloaks etc. What more did she have to lose? Her mind, is the answer. Penky couldn't stay here one more moment. She opened the door and flung herself out, tripping mindlessly through the forest and stumbling into town, exhausted, around 7. It was freezing, and she began to wonder if the cloak would have been a good idea actually. Snow fell from the bleary sky. It was two days until Christmas Eve. The silhouette of trees, jeweled with lights, stood like colorful shadows in all of the windows. They looked so warm and happy. Loretta sat in her black Role Model tank top and plaid skirt, shivering. Nobody seemed to see her. They all went about their last minute shopping and joyful caroling without presenting her with a stray look. She sat there, looking up through the snow, trying to find the stars. Stars always reminded her of her mother. Her eyes were like the stars. Big and glowing and on fire, and so very far away. Loretta closed her droopy eyes and slumped forward.
Cold webs of moonlight scattered across the stone floor of Loretta's lonesome home. Ever since Toby had left, it had been quiet. Not a word was said inside, as if the inhabitant was afraid that breaking the unbearable silence would also shatter every memory that she held inside of her constantly. Memories of Toby. Memories of happiness. Loretta sighed and wistfully looked out of the single small window that graced the room with moonlight. Stroking Blacky, a cat that she knows, she began to dream of quiet yesterdays and fairweather smiles.
Loretta was but 13 once more, standing in the orphan line at the orphanage. Loretta was always just a slip of a girl, so slender that all the other kids made fun of her and avoided her. She'd never known her mother. The slate grey stones of the orphanage building toppled and loomed like the castle of a vampire. Loretta shuddered and held her satchel close to her heart. It had been fifteen days since she left Crystal Valley, her parent's beautiful mansion. She felt so sick, all of the horrible holidays that had occurred that month had been both exhausting and arachnaphobia-inducing. The large iron gate creaked with the wind, and a tall, pale man closed it shut behind them. A few blackened rose bushes clung wearily to the tall and unforgiving walls, which seemed to want to deny them. Scabby little kids were all around Loretta, rubbing their noses and eyes, one kid was vomiting into the roses. "He seems nice," Loretta remembered. All of the kids laughed at her. She was given the duties of washing dishes, pulling weeds, and dusting. In the days that followed, Loretta spent most of her time doing these things. It wasn't easy, but she never complained, because everyone around her had to do similar missions. She had no friends. She rarely saw the boy who had thrown up, who all the kids had nicknamed "Puke". The kids had given everyone a nickname. Those little boogers just hit it off so well, all except Loretta. Half of them called her "StarEyes" and the other half had just shortened her name to Lana. It seemed like everything here was drabbed down. People with pretty clothes were given dull, raggedy, patch-ridden potato sacks or the like. Loretta had her suitcase exchanged for a paper bag, which all of her beautiful belongings were getting dusty in. She only had two belongings. One of them was a book of love poems. "You are a princess" her father had told her when he gave it to her. "A special princess." And one was a tiny silver music box that played the song "Hey Jude" by The Beatles. With the passing of time, the music box was tarnished, and many of the pages of the poem book were torn out. She kept all of the torn out pages in the book though. Just, it was hard to keep those guys in there. The only food they gave to the kids was chicken soup. Two meals a day. No lunch. Sometimes there were activities, like walks, spelling bees, and talent shows, but Loretta always hid in a corner, because she couldn't walk as fast, and was too shy to spell, and didn't think she was talented. Oh, but she was. Sometimes she wove the weeds she weeded into beautiful little blankets. But was too shy to show them to people. One morning she heard whistling at the window. A light, whimsical chirp, flowing up and down like a wave made out of harps. She opened her droopy eyes and looked to see a little blue sparrow on the sill of the window. "Where have you come from?" she asked, but then a little girl with red hair chased it away. "He's going to defecate on the sill, and it's my job to keep that thing clean!" Geez, thought Loretta. That poser's got some nerve, chasing away my only friend. When she was washing dishes, she heard the sound again, and raced to the kitchen window. The red head girl chortled down the stairs and threw a kettle at the windowsill. "Quit encouraging it!" she screamed. "Snively whiner." Hurtled Loretta through her teeth. Why didn't the girl want Loretta to be happy? Loretta awakened that night to whispered chirping. She scanned the room with her long amber eyes and rested them not on the sparrow but on a little cricket with a feather in it's mouth. Of course it hadn't eaten the sparrow! It was bringing a message written on a feather. Loretta reached for it but the sleeping redhead girl rolled over and smashed the cricket. Loretta was so sorrowful that she kicked that murderous bloke as hard as she could, and then pretended to be asleep when the poor wretch woke up screaming. Loretta cried all night. Then at 5 she got up and opened the window, and sprinkled a few pieces of her paper bag out for the bird. And sure enough the dazzling little baby thing flew up to the sill and started to eat the paper bag pieces. Cute little guy. Loretta stroked it with her pinky. "Do you know where 'Puke' is?" She asked it. It nodded. "Will you give him this?" she required once more, handing the sooty little victim a torn out page from her book of love poems. The poem was titled "Ruby Ring Memories". The bird offed with it and flew stunningly up to Puke's little room in the attic. In the days that followed, Loretta sent drawings, poems, jokes, and pieces of candy (which she'd taken from the burly guards herself while they thought she was washing the dishes). Finally, when Loretta was dusting she came across the pile of all of her little gifts up in the attic room. She cut off a curl of her long amber hair and added it to the treasure. That night she discovered the curl in the redhead girl's pillow! Along with several candy wrappers of candies she's expressly given to the boy. This time when she kicked the redhead girl she couldn't pretend to be asleep. She was crying too loud.
"Why did you take away Puke's presents?"
"Oh, we're going out. I didn't know you gave them to him. I'm sorry."
"You stole them!"
"No, we're going out. I met him when I was up there scrubbing the window sill. He was reading one of the poems. I tried to steal one of the candies but he caught me, and we talked, and decided to go out. I really like him."
"But..... but...." Loretta couldn't stand it. That horrible woman took her guy! He probably thought that it was redhead who gave him all that stuff. WHAT!
Loretta went to sleep, and then kicked the redheaded snob again. This time with her fists too. The following day a large carton of chocolate syrup was delivered to the orphanage while Loretta was washing dishes. Still tearstained from the previous night, and thinking quickly, Loretta, aching with revenge, took one of the newly cleaned bowls, poured the syrup into it, and made a mixture of mud, water, and sugar to stand in as the syrup in the actual carton. It would probably taste the same anyways. As if anything here didn't taste like sugary mud. She stood the bowl on a windowsill overlooking some roses that the snobby little excuse for a redhead was tending, then she dumped half of it. The other half she left in the bowl on a shutter that was a particularly sticky windowsill, so Skipper was scrubbing away when BANG the bowl, contents and all, spilled into her fiery curls. The teacher let her take a bath. At dinner they announced that the kids were getting a special treat-chocolate fudge sundaes! Loretta didn't want one.
Chapter 3: Quiet Love.
In the days that followed, Loretta ate hardly anything and went hardly anywhere. She'd had her sugary sweet revenge and was finished. Skipper knew it was her who'd spilled the chocolate, but kept quiet just in case. Christmas came and went, and finally it was the next year and before Loretta knew it she was 14. She'd gotten used to being called Lana by now. She could hardly remember that her name was Loretta and she was special. Saint Patrick's day dawned golden, and all of the roses bloomed. Puke was acting really random and mean, pinching even people who wore green. Loretta wasn't so sure about him anymore. By dinnertime, when he was sticking noodles up his nose, Loretta really was sure. Sure that they were over. So was Skipper too. The two girls stayed up until 11 talking about how much they hated him. And how gross he was. They wrote some poems about it and giggled, and then by the time they fell asleep they knew they were fast friends. "My name is Penky, but they nicknamed me Skipper because I look like Skipper only with red hair."
"My nickname is Lana, and my name...." but Loretta couldn't remember. She couldn't decide whether to giggle or cry. By now half of her poetry book was gone... gone to the kid everyone called Puke. And her music box had been stolen by the police. Then the teacher tried to take away her poem book. "NO!" she screamed. But it was no use. That night, Penky and Loretta slipped soundlessly down the dusty stairs and into the teacher's room, where they quenched the love poem book, and slunk into the night like two quiet and majestic hyenas. Where was this orphanage anyway? It turned out to be on an island. They began to build a boat out of a hollowed out stump. The police woke up and looked out his window at the two runaway hostages on the shore of the dark swampy lake. He sidled out of bed and downstairs to have his donuts and coffee, not rushing or anything.
"Hurry" said Loretta. "They'll be here soon."
"I can't push it into the lake by myself!"
So Loretta got out and helped just as the squad car flung itself into view. And they were off! Paddling with their hands, they got to the middle of the lake, and then both of them slumped, exhausted, into the boat, and stopped paddling.
"How far are we from shore?"
"Not too far. I'm so hungry, we should have brought something."
Just then the sparrow came, with some french fries in his beak. They each ate one. "I'm still hungry," Penky groaned. The sparrow couldn't do anything about it. The lake was placid, echoing their peaceful ripples out to the surrounding cliffs, and splattering what was left of them against the stones. Loretta wondered if maybe they could just drift to shore. She sat wondering that when something caught her eye. At the bottom of the lake was something silver. Without thinking, she dove in. Loretta didn't know how to swim, but she managed well enough. Tumbling down into the icy depths of the crystal green lake, she reached for the silver object and finally had both her hands around it. Aha! It was the music box! Breaking to the surface once more, she wound the blessed thing, while saying "This is the song my mother used to sing." Hey Jude chimed out of it shyly, mechanically. Like a shy, mechanic, ghost that breezes through windchimes. The ghost of Loretta's father. Whispering constantly "You are a precious, precious princess." The sun was crashing into the horizon and letting off shards of red and orange into the sky by the time Loretta and Penky reached shore. It was another island, with a neighborhood and forest. Loretta and Penky stumbled into the forest, looking all around at the bleak darkness. The trees caught sunlight and pushed it back out, but was not very vigilant, as sometimes a few sinking rays met the leaf-covered floor of the glade. All summer Loretta and Penky spent building a boxy little house deep in the ferny forest. It was a small house, about as big as your room, with a single window. Finally autumn crept on slender arms and reached the little house. The leaves blew in the windows.
Loretta and Penky loved autumn. She looked out the window and saw Penky lolloping into view. "I took some metal bars from a nearby jail to build a barbecue pit with!" she said breathlessly.
"Well then, I'll go see if the baker will get us some steak." Loretta smiled peacefully. The scars of her past were becoming less of scars and more of just memories. Clouded, meaningless memories. A piece of her past, and not a constant, haunting nightmare. She was alive once more. She picked up the sides of her homemade wine-colored skirt and began walking carefully towards the town. About halfway there she saw a man stealing her horse, Brownie. She tackled him and they became friends. Together they walked to town.
"Who are you?" Loretta asked.
"My name is Christ. I've lived here all of my life. I've heard many stories about you. I just don't have a horse, so I thought I'd take that one."
Loretta studied him. He was wearing a green shirt, blue jeans, black shoes, and had tired, yet brilliant blue eyes. Brown hair with gold highlights. He looked like her father.
"My name is Lana." She said, slipping her hand into his, like a smooth poker player slips cards onto the table. Smoothly.
They managed to get to town, and she saw the constable asking the jailer who must have taken the bars. "Some dadburned girl. Looked a tad like that one right there." He said, pointing to Loretta. Staring right at her freckly face. Christ pulled her into an alley.
"What just happened?" he asked.
"Uh, my best friend stole something."
"It's okay, let me take care of this. I'll go buy the steak, you stay here."
"Okay" she said. She sat down and hid behind a trash can. A few muggers came up and spraypainted a sign then took a guy's wallet, but they didn't notice her. Finally Christ came back. "Here is your steak dear missy," He huskily managed out of his smile.
"You're the best!" She replied, meaning it with all her might. Arm in arm, they ran back to the wood house, where all of them had a rollicking barbecue. The next morning, Christ was gone. And Penky wouldn't get up. "Wake up! Penky! Skipper!" Loretta screamed. Penky opened her drooping eyes, and her chapped mouth, and whispered, "I'm dying. I can't help it. We all must go sometime, and today was my time. Don't mourn my loss. I am nothing. I am a bee on the wind. A flower in winter. Just. A. Flower." and Penky's head drooled to one side, while Loretta wept on. The funeral was held the next day. The week after that, Loretta had not eaten a single thing when she looked outside and saw the barbecue being taken away by some cats! Mangy mutts! Sticky-fingered-tabbies! She'd go after them when she was done crying. The next day Loretta put on a very nice hat, and went to town. She saw the cats in the window of a house. A tea party was going on in there. Loretta put her pale, shaking hand around the door and opened it. She walked in, and a butler greeted her and sat her on a lavender loveseat. Her hat made her blend right in with the other people there. "I am going to go wash my hands." she said, and snuck away. She removed her hat and took some of the pretty carved soaps from the bathroom. She looked under the sink for catfood, and sure enough, an entire bag, which she put in her pocket. She went back out, accidentally forgetting her hat. But that was okay. Without the hat she blended in nicely with the maids. "Uh, Drisel... Ana.... Could you get us some more sugar, ma'am?" asked one of the woman, who didn't know Loretta's name. Loretta nodded and went into the kitchen, she looked around everywhere but couldn't find sugar. So she used salt. And crumbled soap into it. She brought out the pinkish sandlike mixture. Coming back into the kitchen she stepped on a cricket. Streaks of red memory flung themselves back into her her ever-sorrowful mind. "Penky, I will recover my last link to you." and she looked out the window to see the cats playing on the barbecue pit! Those fiends! She ran out there and threw that cat food into a bush, where all of the cats followed it. She picked up the barbecue pit and carried it out the gate. Finally she was reunited to her sister-of-heart's last gift to the world. She and the pit walked hand in hand back to the house. The sky was bright with autumn clouds and the forest smelled of rosemary. The birds dropped their gift of song down through the treetops, and faint pink roses were growing nextdoor to black berries. Loretta sat in the forest for a bit, before returning home. When she got home something seemed wrong. Loretta ran into the house. Penky was nowhere in sight. Loretta ran to the seashore, where their old boat sat docked. Penky was lying in the old boat, motionless. Not a breath escaped her chapped lips. Loretta shook her awake, and Penky opened her drooping eyes.
"I'm dying."
"Don't." Loretta whispered, blinking back tears.
"I can't help it. We all must go sometime, and now was my time. Don't mourn my loss. I am nothing. I am a whisper on the wind. A flower of joy in the pebbles of time. Just. A. Flower." Penky held up a rose she'd been holding. It was the most stunningly red rose Loretta had ever seen. Redder than Penky's hair. A thorn pricked Penky as she quenched the rose tightly, and crimson blood dripped down into her mouth.
"I can't be here anymore, Loretta, the other worlds need me there. But it was so nice to know you. So nice to see you care. Young girl, you are precious." And Penky's consciousness drifted away just like feathers on the wind. Slowly, she died. Loretta pushed the boat out to sea.
"Oh Penky, who so loved the water. How fitting for you." and she suppressed a giggle, breaking down instead, and hitting her knees like a friar who decided not to steal anymore. She dug her hands into the sand, and rubbed it on her face painfully, trying to ease the pain within. The pain that wouldn't leave. Uneasable. It's so easy.
Chapter 4: The Search for Hope and Happiness.
It wouldn't have been so bad if Loretta had any company at all, but the sparrow took ill and died the following morning, and she made a canoe for it out of a half of a pecan, and it followed Penky out to the deep blue.
"Christ!" said Loretta. "Everyone is dying!"
A new sparrow came. "Fly, fly to the man I once knew. Tell him Lana needs him. Tell him to remember the day when we ate the steak." And with a reassuring chirp, it disappeared out to the deep blue. A few days later, Christ came.
"You got the sparrow's message!" she said.
"The sparrow sent a message?" he asked.
You don't know this yet, but the sparrow mistook a dying old man for Christ and gave him the message instead.
Christ built a tree house not far from the little box house. The last day they were together, Christ brought a steak from town and they cooked it, smiling at eachother, their faces aglow with relfected flames, their hearts, hands, and steak all warm.
In the middle of the night Loretta awoke to the sound of a storm. It was rocking the house back and forth and wind was blowing in the little window. A tree broke. It was the tree on the treehouse. The treehouse of Christ.
"Christ!" Loretta called through the blackening tempest. "Christ!" but there was no sound. In all the rain she saw the treehouse now reduced to just a stump, and Christs arm was bent straight in half under it. She couldn't find the rest of him, but the hand had a note saying "I love you, and you can have the box of stuff if I'm dead."
Loretta went through the box of stuff but it was only knickknacks, a diary, and some cloaks. What use had she of these? She put the box and everything into her house, and sat down and cried. Why was she alive? What exactly was going on? "Christ." she whispered. She looked at the house. A mark was on the wall near a chair, where Penky used to like to put her feet. It had scratched through the paint. A bag of bird seed sat in a corner for the sparrow. And then there was the box of cloaks etc. What more did she have to lose? Her mind, is the answer. Penky couldn't stay here one more moment. She opened the door and flung herself out, tripping mindlessly through the forest and stumbling into town, exhausted, around 7. It was freezing, and she began to wonder if the cloak would have been a good idea actually. Snow fell from the bleary sky. It was two days until Christmas Eve. The silhouette of trees, jeweled with lights, stood like colorful shadows in all of the windows. They looked so warm and happy. Loretta sat in her black Role Model tank top and plaid skirt, shivering. Nobody seemed to see her. They all went about their last minute shopping and joyful caroling without presenting her with a stray look. She sat there, looking up through the snow, trying to find the stars. Stars always reminded her of her mother. Her eyes were like the stars. Big and glowing and on fire, and so very far away. Loretta closed her droopy eyes and slumped forward.