"Fey, don't you see there's nothing out there to hurt you? The dark is no different from the light. What are you going to do when you must live out on your own?" Fey hadn't known what to say, she could only look at her mother silently.
"As usual, you just stand there silent. Waiting. What are you waiting on?" Why did mother insist on always asking the questions that Fey had no way of answering? She had gotten better. Since finding Finicky, Fey had been able to sleep without a night light and withstand the dark inside rooms. There she knew she wasn't alone. It was late. Fey was tired, so she called Finicky over and went to bed.
*************
Pit...pat...pit...pat..pat..pat.pat.pat.patpatpatpatpatpatpatpatpatpatpatpat. That was the sound Fey seemed to wake up to most mornings here in Washington Heights. Not that she disliked the rain. Really it was a good part of the world. Fey just wished that the sun would make a consistant appearence in Washington Heights more often then not. Finicky whinned beside Fey and went over to the door frame of the bedroom to scratch at it.
"I'm comin' Finiy, don't worry, I won't make you hold it in. Even on a rainy day." Fey laughed at Finicky. Whenever he had to go out and they were in the apartment he seemed to act like he was asking for some great favor.
Fey walked to the coat rack, Finicky by her side, and put on a coat, grabbed an umbrella, and stuffed her crotched hat into her bag along with a plastic bag.
"Let's be off!" She opend the door, and the pair went out.
Fey and Finicky turned into the vacant lot and walked to the far corner of it. While Finicky did his business, Fey politely looked elsewhere. It was then she noticed the stand in the lot had been reopend. Once Finicky had finished, Fey was pleased to find there would be no need for the bag and began to walk back to the side walk. The reason for the use of the vacant lot as apposed to the park was simple. there were so few nice areas in Washington Heights Fey figured Finicky could use one of the least pleasant parts and leave one of the nicest ones unspoiled, atleast by himself.
Reaching the sidewalk, Fey decided to go out for some coffee. The rain wasn't that bad after all, and she had her umbrella jauntily held above her head. Walking past the now unvacated stand, Fey was struck. Not physically, but with the sight of a great bird perched on a shelf. It wasn't alive, Fey could see that, but the state it was in wasn't natural. From the earth it came, and to the earth it should have returned, all of it, for the next generation. Fey suddenly became aware of a small, strange woman looking back at her. Averting her eyes, Fey hurried herself and Finicky down the street towards the traffic light.
Deep breaths Fey, deep breaths. Everyone has a reason. It is just her being herself, you are not the one to judge, or you will be judged. Despite her attempt to calm down and just accept the woman as she'd accepted everyone else, a cold chill went down her spine as she thought back to that bird.
"I'm comin' Finiy, don't worry, I won't make you hold it in. Even on a rainy day." Fey laughed at Finicky. Whenever he had to go out and they were in the apartment he seemed to act like he was asking for some great favor.
Fey walked to the coat rack, Finicky by her side, and put on a coat, grabbed an umbrella, and stuffed her crotched hat into her bag along with a plastic bag.
"Let's be off!" She opend the door, and the pair went out.
Fey and Finicky turned into the vacant lot and walked to the far corner of it. While Finicky did his business, Fey politely looked elsewhere. It was then she noticed the stand in the lot had been reopend. Once Finicky had finished, Fey was pleased to find there would be no need for the bag and began to walk back to the side walk. The reason for the use of the vacant lot as apposed to the park was simple. there were so few nice areas in Washington Heights Fey figured Finicky could use one of the least pleasant parts and leave one of the nicest ones unspoiled, atleast by himself.
Reaching the sidewalk, Fey decided to go out for some coffee. The rain wasn't that bad after all, and she had her umbrella jauntily held above her head. Walking past the now unvacated stand, Fey was struck. Not physically, but with the sight of a great bird perched on a shelf. It wasn't alive, Fey could see that, but the state it was in wasn't natural. From the earth it came, and to the earth it should have returned, all of it, for the next generation. Fey suddenly became aware of a small, strange woman looking back at her. Averting her eyes, Fey hurried herself and Finicky down the street towards the traffic light.
Deep breaths Fey, deep breaths. Everyone has a reason. It is just her being herself, you are not the one to judge, or you will be judged. Despite her attempt to calm down and just accept the woman as she'd accepted everyone else, a cold chill went down her spine as she thought back to that bird.
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The clouds shifted, and I looked up from my work in one of the flower beds on the rooftop garden of the Washington-Heights apartment building. I surveyed my surroundings and decided that "garden" wasn't exactly an apt description for the grimy walkways that surrounded a few attention-deprived and depressing rectangles of dirt. Was it even dirt anymore? For some reason I was attempting to bring some life back to this place that overlooked the whole of Washington-Heights. "Remeber that this used to calm you down when you were upset, Maria, even if this isn't exactly what you are accustomed too." Right, calming down, that's what I'm doing up here in the wind and cold. In the wind and cold, above the penthouse, as far as I could be from that bakery, its crazy German owner, the mysterious bits of dough on the floor, the man who asked for two bagels with alterior motives on his mind, the fingerprints, the stale bagels, the hand sanitizer...
"Maria," I muttered. "You're being stupid, just remember what your mother said." I grimaced. "Yeah, so maybe I'm not cut out for a job with so many social aspects, but I can't let her know that she was right about it all." All those customers at the bakery made me shake, and I had to steady myself on the counter when they finally left, the little bell on the door jingling menacingly behind them.
I had wanted to calm down. I had needed to calm down. I remembered how the candles in my bedroom as a child used to lull me to sleep as their flickering flames created shadows on the walls. "Candles." So I had gone to the little occult shop that stood hunched up beside the apartment building in search of candles. The girl behind the counter was quiet and shy; she didn't seem completely comfortable in the little shop front, only seeming to tolerate it because of the silent dog presence at her feet. I walked up to the counter, and the girl eyed me warily for a moment before asking if she could help me. "Candles," I said slowly. Pause. "Do you have candles?" I clarified. "White tapers?" She looked at me intently for a moment and then reached under the counter, searching for something. She then placed a box in front of me, saying, "You want green ones, for growth." I bought the box, six candles in all, and left the store rather quickly. It wasn't that I didn't like the girl, she just seemed to know alot more than she let on. It was disconcerting.
It was only after stepping outside into the windy day that I realized what I should actually be doing to calm myself down. And that is why I am up on the roof, planting sickly and slightly wilted daisies that I uprooted from the park while no one was watching. "But hey, who cares where the flowers were before because, now, they are actually serving a purpose. They are helping me prove her wrong."
The dirt was cool and natural under my fingertips. The recent rain had left it moist, and I enjoyed the feeling of earth against my skin. Unlike everything else around me, the dirt...wasn't sticky. "This is nice." A burt of chilly air breazed past me, making me shiver.
"Nice as in a cold day without sun working on the dirty rooftop of my sticky apartment building in dirt that is probably commonly doused in acidic and poisonous rain from the huge city nearby but not close enough to allow and escape from this upper level of hell. That kind of nice." But for all my complaining, the daisies really were quite nice. They seemed to look happier the moment I put them back in the ground. Maybe soon they would be pretty enough to pick and put in a little vase in my apartment. Maybe I could even give some to Kevin. "Stop blushing, Maria," I muttered, embarassed at my own thought.
Maybe I'll take some to the bakery to lighten the mood.
Magic Herbs
The sun was setting as Kevin finished threading the second wire through Patrick's vertebrae. It had been a blustery day. Dark, ominous clouds had barely let any sunshine through. Once again, Kevin had returned to room 981, Chinese takeout in hand, to work on his labor of love.
Now that this step was complete, Kevin knew what he had to do. He would have to face the wind again, though.
Stepping out onto the street, Kevin trundled down the sidewalk to a small store right next to the empty lot surrounding Washington Heights. He entered the store, which was named The Wrath.
Sitting behind the counter was a woman. Kevin approached her.
"I need some magic herbs," he said.
"I don't cater to the wants of those wishing to consume controlled substances," the woman responded.
"I'm not looking for drugs," Kevin rebutted. "I need something that actually has magical properties."
"Well, what are you trying to do?" the woman questioned.
"Bring back a friend," Kevin said. Then, after a short pause, he continued, "from the dead."
The woman stood still and silent for a few breathless moments. Finally, she turned toward one of the glass cases along the walls. "Follow me," she said.
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