Author's Note: I'm going to revise the first three chapters someday. For now, enjoy this piece ebcause I certainly enjoyed writing it.
"This is the earth," said she, and he instinctively cupped his hands before she could do what he knew she would do even if he didn't put out his hands. Something was being held very tightly between her hands, and Theodore had the sneaking suspicion that it was something very much alive.
Sometimes, he hated being right.
"This is the earth, and this," she continued, "is Frank. He is very shy, and he doesn't care for loud people, so do stay quiet."
Frank wasn't too friendly, apparently, because when she allowed her hands to part so that Theodore could meet Frank, all Theodore could see was a bit of dirt and grass. Theodore found himself whispering, as ridiculous as it seemed to be.
"Uhm, are you sur-"
"Yes."
He decided to trust her and showed he was willing to believe by the way he lifted his cupped hands up. Very slowly she tipped her hands over his and allowed the mixture of earth to tumble into his pale hands. It was a funny thing, he decided, that of the two he should have the cleaner and more cared for pair of hands. It was usually the girl who had smooth flesh and clean nails, not the boy. However, she had proved more than once that she wasn't like the girls he knew, the girls that prided themselves on having perfect hands made for kissing and holding.
Laura's hands were made for holding too, but what she held was not other human hands. She held paws, and fins and talons, and on occasions she held...
"It's a worm," he said, rather loudly, so much so that she shushed him promptly and glared.
"His name is Frank."
"Yes, but Frank is a worm," said Theodore in a hushed whisper.
"We're going to return him to his home, okay?"
"Okay."
So they did. Laura showed Theodore where she found Frank in the first place, ("I stepped on him here and nearly killed him, hopefully he'll know his way back from this point!") and then she showed him how to put the creature back into his natural habitat. By the time they finished the task, his hands were just as filthy as hers and he must've had a small pout, for she had said very loudly (because Frank had been deep in the earth by now and wouldn't mind so much), "Stop pouting so much. You were made from dust and you'll go back to dust. What's the harm of getting a little on you in between?"
Then they went inside, washed their hands together while she thanked him for his help, and finally ate dinner outside while the sun was still hanging over the horizon. In the fading light, he turned his head to her and watched as she sipped on a glass of pink lemonade.
"No one's every introduced the earth to me," he said quickly.
"About time someone did," she replied.