Part 1: Pictor Terra
Chapter 1
The large house hadn't changed much in those six years, and neither had the people. Kassi had aged, and now she was taller and her hair was longer. Now she lay in peaceful blackness--not the type that creeps in on you or hides monsters underneath the dresser, but the heavy sort of type that sits calmly around you. It was the type of blackness that made you sleepy.
Although her room was familiar and her bed warm, she couldn't seem to fall asleep. Thoughts crowded her head. She thought of sitting in the lunchroom, eating her sandwich all alone; she thought of the painting that she worked on for hours a day, but that still wouldn’t come together; she thought of her mother, who kept all her promises, but made them rarely; she thought of Jame: his hands, his laugh, and his friendship. All her thoughts kept circling back to those three things about Jame.
There were only a couple of things that freed Kassi from insecurity: her mother (but she was only around occasionally), painting (but that had been less and less satisfying lately), and Jame. Jame invoked a different kind of awkwardness--a sweet awkwardness that was only there since the shell of normal awkwardness was forgotten.
Kassi rolled over and sighed. With the thought of Jame near her heart, sleep muffled her conscience.
* * * * *
Sila was home when Kassi woke up in the morning. She was making her usual ruckus in the kitchen, dancing about with various frying pans and muffin tins.
“Morning,” Kassi mumbled as she shuffled into the kitchen.
Sila looked up briefly at her daughter and smiled. “Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?”
“Yeah.”
Kassi slowly scooted up onto her stool. A timer beeped, making her jump. Sila was over at the oven, opening it and fanning the steam that billowed out of it all around the kitchen.
“Say good morning to your dutch baby!” Sila exclaimed and whirled Kassi’s plate over towards her. On it was a half-baked muffin of a thing apparently called a dutch baby. It was probably french. Sila had had a strange obsession with french food lately, so that Kassi always knew she was home when the smell of freshly baked pastries wafted over to her bedroom.
Kassi sniffed in the sweet scent of her breakfast and sighed; it smelled like home. She picked up her fork and made as if to cut off a piece of the dutch baby, but Sila put out her hand and stopped her.
“Wait just a minute. It’s not quite ready yet...” Sila said and reached over to open a drawer.
“Oh, right.” Kassi smiled. “You’ve got to add the ruby!”
“Of course,” Sila said and drew a bottle of sparkling red powder out from the drawer. It was ground ruby particles, homemade by Sila, who insisted they be eaten as a topping to every meal but did not seem to be able to find them in the grocery store (such an outrage).
Sila lovingly unscrewed the top to the small glass bottle and took out a pinch of the powder. She sprinkled it on Kassi’s dutch baby and stood back to admire the shimmering effect.
“You can never forget your ruby,” Sila said as she re-screwed the cap. Kassi joined in, and together they chanted, “It adds 77% nutritional value!”
Kassi laughed a little to herself and cut off a piece of the dutch baby.
Her mother really did seem to think that ruby added (77%) nutritional value to a meal, so Kassi went along with it, even though it seemed that nobody else in the world did it... nobody else, that was, except Jame. His family had the same tradition. But of course, Kassi’s mother and Jame’s mother had known each other all the way back into foggy history, so perhaps one of them had transferred the tradition to the other.
Kassi moved the buttery muffin around in her mouth and recalled how she and Jame had first met: through their mothers. No, Viata and Sila weren't friends; they knew each other better than that. They hosted a more complex relationship. Theirs was a mix of caring too much about each other and knowing too much about each other to properly protect them in their conscience (and it seemed they did—Viata was always quite annoyingly referencing “what Kassi didn’t know” about Sila).
The clank of a plate on the counter signaled that Sila was sitting down next to Kassi.
They ate in silence. When Kassi was done, Sila stood and took both their plates over to the sink. The tap turned on and water crashed onto the dirty dishes.
After a moment, Sila turned the water down to a drip. “I should tell you, honey...”
Kassi knew what it was. Her mom had to leave again.
“I’ve been asked to go on another work trip," Sila continued, verifying Kassi's assumption. "I’m really sorry, sweetheart, but I have to go.”
Kassi sighed. Her mom had only just gotten back after a week away, and who knew how long this next one would be. There were never designated times, and often Kassi would be alone in the house for a while. Once, it had been three whole weeks. That wasn’t so long ago. Sila had been leaving more and more often these days.
It wasn't right that Sila left Kassi all alone; Kassi knew that. Sometimes it made her angry, sometimes so angry that she almost felt like reporting Sila.
Almost.
But even after these mistreatments, Sila was her mother, and she had her own little corner in Kassi's heart. And, even though they were few, Kassi loved the moments they had together. She loved them so much that she couldn't bear to lose them.
“I really am sorry, Kassi,” Sila said.
Kassi looked up. Her mother had tears welling in her eyes and a lump rose in Kassi’s own throat in response.
“Mom, please don’t worry about me,” she assured and got up from her stool to hug her mother.
In the background, the water dripped slowly onto the plates.
“But I feel terrible,” Sila cried into her daughter’s shoulder. Sometimes it felt like their roles were reversed. "You're a teenager; you should have more support from me."
“Really, Mom.” Kassi was getting slightly annoyed. She didn’t like the idea that she couldn’t take care of herself. For god’s sake, she had practically been independent since she was six!
“Well, I thought I owed you something,” Sila said timidly and drew back out of Kassi’s arms. “So I got you this.”
From her back jeans pocket, Sila pulled a small giftwrapped box. Confused, Kassi took it from her hands and unwrapped it. Inside was a tiny black box.
“I hope you like it,” Sila burst out a little too soon.
Kassi felt around the box for a moment and found a hold. She popped it open and blinked. Inside, a small red stone glinted. It was ruby, suspended on the thinnest golden chain. Beautiful.
“It’s a smaller version of mine.” Sila reached inside her blouse and pulled out her own ruby necklace. It was a bit larger than the one she had given Kassi, a bit more regal. “I had it custom made for you to match mine,” she explained.
Kassi looked down at the necklace again and, at a loss for words to return to her mother, she pulled it from its casing and latched it at the back of her neck. It fit perfectly.
The first thing that came to Kassi’s mind was that such a piece must've been awfully expensive; it was custom made with ruby, which was a very expensive stone. She couldn't help think that maybe, if Sila hadn't bought it, or any of their fancy furniture, or any of the antique paintings on the walls... then maybe she wouldn’t need to go on this work trip. But Kassi kept her thought silent, for she knew that her mother’s job had less to do with earning money and more to do with something else.
“Thank you, mom,” Kassi said simply, then added, “It’s beautiful. Really.”
They stood there for a moment, both holding their necklaces in their hands.
After a moment, Sila said, “I’d better go and get my things.”
Sila shuffled out of the room to her quarters. She would not pack, because she left so often that she never unpacked in the first place. She had been toting the same bag away and back again without once changing its contents since Kassi could remember. The funny thing was that it wasn't a large bag, and sometimes Sila would need more than it could contain. Because of this, Kassi had a theory that Sila went to the same place time and time again—a place where she had a stash of other clothing.
Sila reentered the kitchen and placed a kiss on Kassi’s forehead before heading for the door.
“Stay out of trouble. Okay, honey?”
“I always do.” Kassi sighed. Although she was in no hurry to find herself in trouble, Kassi couldn’t help but wish that there was something exciting in her life.
Sila still lingered. “Ask Viata if you need anything, okay?”
Kassi smiled at the thought of Viata, Jame's mother, and (for all practical purposes) hers as well. “I will."
“Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Sila opened the door and made as if to step out, then paused and stuck her head back in.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
Kassi looked up from the necklace and smiled at her mother.
“I love you, too,” she reminded. When Sila closed the door there was a smile on her face.
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