Aphex Twin - Lichen
…
The Stepford's home.
— … When Raymie was two years old, he learned to walk by himself. Do you remember?
— Yes, I do. – Today, April is feeling quite nostalgic. I could tell by her soft and shimmering voice.
— I wonder if he remembers… There was a day you left this house. Raymie stood in front of the door, sitting, awaiting for you. Soon as you came in, Raymie walked to you and, before falling, he grabbed your leg and held tight onto it.
— I had the utmost care for walking around with that little thing glued to my leg. – Five years ago, is it right? How time passes…
— To think Raymie would never be able to walk again if you haven't done something. – I hear the washing of dishes. April's skin by the tip of fingers wrinkles and doesn't stop to wrinkle.
— If we haven't done something, April. – She still feels bad for the whole leech thing. – Sure, Raymie risked his life for a few tips. He had good intentions, though he also did it to strengthen his ego. Is that bad? I don't know. The bad thing is that he got hurt, so did we. It's complicated.
— Indeed. I believe Raymie won't do that again, am I a fool?
— I don't know, April. I recall something my father used to say… a quote echoing on my mind to this day. Something like "When a man figures out how to fix problems between men, then he'll be ready to solve the problem between men and the world"; I was not sure of what he meant to say by that, but now I understand. The little issues one pretends to ignore are as important, if not, the ones that create the bigger ones. I can't imagine what would happen had not I walked right at Raymie and treated his bites.
— Neither do I want to. I prefer to ignore such painful moments and remember the times where Raymie holded tight on you, not letting go of your leg.
That very scene still warms April's heart and often makes her cry of happiness. I thought I would not find a place in Burmecia to call home. Or even find someone as caring and loving as April.
– You know, my husband used to leave by the front door and Raymie waited for his return. So did I… sob...
— I see. – And there was a day when Albert never came back. Little I knew about that fellow, only that he and his wife were in some dire straits, in need of extra money. And I was in need of a dry shelter. – Do you ever regret not making the right decision when you had the opportunity to do so?
— Whose opportunity? – April asked, as she offered me a cup of coffee.
— You know which one. – I said, and then it turned cold. I don't mean the coffee. – I could not convince Albert to not go to the field.
— Even if I told him the world was about to end, he was too stubborn to hear me. – I haven't seen April cry ever since that day. It's the least of things I want to hear. – Besides, he had friends in the army.
— Were they more important than you?
— Albert has not fought for me, but the whole of Burmecia. He didn't have to die for that, though. – I feel her heartbeat slow down for a moment, as if by every mention of her deceased husband… I don't want to further this talk, I'm done with that.
— Sorry if I am responsible for making you remember… you know, that awful moment in your life.
— Oh, please don't be! I have lost more people than I can count with my fingers, Albert as well, so it's not much of a surprise I miss him like I miss my father, my grandfather or my aunt Emma. – April said, as she cleaned one dish after another. – Now this is the world and how things have always been, nobody lives forever.
— Of course we do! – I help her with the dishes. Four hands are better than two. – My father… I mean, my two fathers, they still live within me. All they told and teached me about this world and who I am to this world and myself.
— They say the blind men are focused to see inward.
Indeed we are, April. I can feel the microbes scrolling through the porcelain, nothing I touch isn't really clean, or free of germs and disease. It frightens me. To feel that everyone I touch is sick, even someone as loving and caring as you…
— We are all forced to picture an ideal world, but to live in the real one… that's a challenge for everyone. – Sure, I 'see' a lot of bacteria through my fingers, but the majority of them are harmless, even good for the planet. – Sometimes, I wonder if humanity isn't made of parasites. I mean, we take to ourselves what Gaia has given us for free, and we call it our own, be its sugary fruits, its majestic forests, its brave and bold beasts…
— Not all of us are parasites. – April said. – We benefit from the efforts of one another, like a brotherhood, a family, or a society. Sure, things are not as good as they might ideally sound, many are starving and homeless and living life by the edge of a knife, but as long as there is someone to fight against these odds, to show that there's hope for a better world to be soiled…
I do enjoy April's company, she reminds me of my mother. How many Burmecian mothers are not widowed ones? Better, how many of them are strong enough to keep life going? I'd say all of them.
— Albert died together with his comrades. He didn't expect to be rewarded or anything the many times he fought and came back home, because he already had someone else. He grew a family, and to think he ain't here to see that.
— Well, I'm here, to anything you need. – Aaand!... We're done with the dishes, thankfully. – Anything, except being Albert's replacement.
— Thanks, Fratley. I do see a bit of Albert in you. – April said, as she ran her claws on my face, coolly. Okay… – Courageous, daring, cunning… a doofus.
— A doofus, me?
— Not usually, but yes, it's undeniable.
— How so? A guy like me, who can tell the scent of the neighbor's flowers from here, and I don't mean his wife…
— Sir Fratley, you are a jerk!
— Oh, I love you too! – April is right. Guess I am a doofus.
/\_/\/\_/\/\_/\/\_/\/\_/\/\_/\/\_/\/\_
— Sometimes, you really get on my nerves. – I feel April's heartbeat. She does not seem upset at all, just amused. Maybe both. – but you are of great help when needed. After all, you are part of the family.
— Am I? – Hello, did it take that long for you to realize what's going on!? – Well, thank you. A huge thank you for all these years of hospitality. You see, I never had a proper family. I had a mom and dad that loved each other as much as they loved their sons, yet, deep inside, they were a dysfunctional wreck. Dad was a traveller by nature, out of home most of the time, while mom was a housewife who never left Burmecia.
— I too would like to leave this place. Feel the warmth of the sun, at least. – Maybe one day, April. You, me and the kids, we could visit the world outside. – Also, what do you mean by 'dysfunctional'? If you want to talk, I'm not forcing at all.
— No, it's okay. I was too little to know. Too little to care… Dad left home not because he or his sons enjoyed an adventure, but because that was his opportunity to run away from the problems surrounding his life. He saw mom as a problem, a stone in the middle of the way. He loved her, of course, but that does not mean they never had awful days.
— Let me guess… He was never the same after the war. – I nod to April.
— No one has felt like themselves after the Battle of Glass Tears from years ago. I do not mean the soldiers alone, but us too. The kids who were waiting eagerly for their parents to come home safe and sound. The good is that we were more united than ever.
— Not all of us. There were excluded kids, who felt dislocated with themselves and those around. The ones who didn't want to be paid attention to not look like, you know, weirdos.
— I was a 'weirdo' too, the way you said. – Ah, nostalgia… I should have realized. How much I suffer from that. – For some lucky reason, I made a few friends.
— I had one friend whose mother was a very restrictive one. – Suddenly, April's tone changed when she began to tell a story of her past. – He could not spot a smudge on her son's clothes that she would wash then right away. She was all like 'do not poke your nose!'; "Do not play in the mud!'; "Do not climb the tree, you'll get splinters at the tip of your fingers!"; "Do not touch Kyle, he got chickenpox!", "Do not eat sugar, it'll rot your teeth!"... That mom was tougher than mine, gee! And she told her son to not do these things everytime he left home.
— In other words, telling him to not be a kid. – I said. Well, who am I to tell how a mother is supposed to raise her children? There are limits to everything, though. – And this friend of yours?
— Patrick? That was his name, I guess. He was not much of a friend, our lifes barely touched. I heard his mom talking to him once, and I felt pity. Who would not feel the same? So, I invited him to play hopscotch. While we played, he said things like "I can't stand in the rain or else I'll get cold!"... "I can't walk on grass or else a bug will bite me and infect me and poison me!"... "I can't step on mud or else the vermin will crawl my feet and suck my blood and my skin will be yellow and it's gonna hurt!"... He scared the hell out of me.
— I wonder from whose person he heard those words from…
— Yes, Patrick was a weird kid. The other kids didn't like to play with him, they called him boring, idiot, the one who ruined all the fun. I can't say I really liked him either, most of the time I was on the side of the bullies. What else could I do? Patrick was still a weirdo, no matter what. He was isolated from the rest, and preferred to live that way.
— I understand. – Perhaps a lot. That kid April told me about could have been me…
— One thing that fascinated me about Patrick is that he said to me and everyone he met that he could see the germs at the tip of his fingers. He saw it everywhere, little things moving amongst people, making them sick, injured, poisoned… it was as if the entire Burmecia was contaminated.
— Just one kid, by its mother's doing. – And that's what I meant by having limits at taking care of children. To think my old family looks healthier by comparison… – How's he doing today?
— I don't know. I heard no news of Patrick ever since. It feels like I became close to him due pity, and nothing else. – The pressure is too much for April, as she sits on a chair to reflect.
— I too felt the same way when I first met Jack and Dan, like they became my friends because they could not say no to someone, let's say… 'special'.
— You are pretty much special in a unique way.
— I mean as a kid. The feeling of discovery and the need to show it to everyone, like when I read in a book about different types of corn. – I explained to April, who's all ears. Not like everyone I knew back then. – I rushed to my dear friends and told them that there is purple corn, red corn, and a rainbow of corn at the highest mountains.
— And what they said?
— I can't remember. To each of my finds, my friends were like "Okay, cool". They didn't share the same amusement as I did. It's like I bored them out with my conversations.
— I'd listen to everything you have to say all day, but you see… – April stood quiet for a moment, reflecting about her compromises. – Oh, I almost forgot! I have to pick up Danny and meet the doctor. I hope my son gets better soon.
— Me too. Danny doesn't deserve to feel that bad. – From here I can feel his faint heartbeats, together with his chin boiling like a volcano.
— That will be my opportunity to visit my sister as well. – April said, as she went upstairs.
— Yes, that's right. – I could cure Danny on my own, if I had the time to do so. – My best regards to your sister and her family.
— Morning mom! – Ingus came in, yawning.
— Hey! Momma's gonna have another brother? – So did Raymie.
— What!? No way! No way you can't! – Archie pleaded to his mother.
— How many times do I have to tell you to not run on the stairs? – April said, disappointed with the kids..
— Sorry, mom. – They all said, echoing a kind of harmony.
— Is it true, mom? You're going to have a baby? – Harmony that does not last long as soon as Raymie comes up with a question.
— No, who said that? – Said April, confused.
— How are babies born? – Raymie is still waiting for someone to deliver an answer for that…
— We'll talk about it later. – And we all say the same thing, don't we, April?
— Later, huh? I heard it a lot. – Raymie is an impatient kid.
— There's no need for another brother, mom. Four devils like us are already too much. – Said Ingus, upset with the very idea of having to watch another of his brothers. To be the older brother is a hard task. – Five if you count Phoebe.
— Your sister ain't a devil. She's an angel – April watched Phoebe crawl to her direction. How long has it been since little Phoebe learned to flee from her crib?
— Uh huh. An angel with teeth, mom! – Ingus still felt the bite on his tail. – I'm hungry! What's there for breakfast?
— There's bread, cheese, ham and orange-
— Help! HELP! My head got stuck! – Before April could complete her sentence, Raymie began to yell. His head got stuck between the stair rail.
— Not again… – I know, Ingus.
— Help… Help! – Raymie tried to pull his head out, desperately.
— Don't worry, my brother. I have the solution! – Archie said, before he swallowed spit and prepared to…
— Archie, no! – April said. I agree with her, that's not a good solution. – I have a better idea. Fratley, can you bring some honey?
— Sure. – Honey… I can feel its sugary smell inside the cabinet, the jar that's right next to… oats? Close… Here it is. – Found it.
— Good. Bring it here. – I have no exact idea what 'here' means, but I listen to April's worries and I follow her location. I try to imagine some arrows pointing to where I should go, that or live in absolute darkness. – Thank you, Fratley.
— Ouchie ouchie! – Raymie pulled his head out as his mother poured honey on his neck. He's all honeyed now and free from the star rail at last. – Yum… that's delicious!
— Never get your head stuck again, stupid! – Ingus really gets upset quickly.
— I'm not stupid!
— Yes you are!
— No I'm not!
— Yes you are!
— No, I am NOT! – Me and April honestly can't tell whose side we are. Ingus, Raymie… Instead, we just hear the boys blather. Until it gets tiresome.
— Enough, kids.
— Right, mom! – They all obey April. Except Phoebe, she does whatever she wants. Her mother does not mind the chewing of hair.
— Hey Frattie… Can you teach me how to read books with my fingers? - Raymie often gets in a lot of trouble due to his curiosity.
— Later. I have to work.
— You have to work at the Jugend, don't you? Mind if you take care of my kids? – April makes a request. – They will behave well… is that right?
— Yes, mom! – Raymie, Ingus and Archie said at the same time, before they attacked the food on the table.
Behave well? These kids? Not sure, but whatever… I can't leave them alone.
— Why not, April? I'd do anything for you! – What else could I say? April is at my side, in front of me. That feeling when you're so close to someone you can tell what that person ate by its breath…
— Kiss her! – Ingus took notice.
— Quiet, Ingus. – April said, embarrassed as much as I. She goes to the front door, holding little Phoebe at arms and Danny with a hand. – Well, I'd better be going. Be seeing ya.
— Bye. – April's weary footsteps vanish in the middle of rain, slowly replaced by the noise of hungry stomachs and saliva drops. Soon I'll be taking care of the kids, and I don't mean those at Jugend, hehe.
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