Lorrieann’s World

 

The walk from the garden to the grand doors of the house had never been especially interesting, but everything changed with Arcana’s newborn life. Gabriel lingered up the path, allowing his mind to wander from his guests for the moment, marveling at the beauty of the setting sun as it played on the deep green-blue leaves of the holly that lined the walk. He reached for a brightly colored blossom, remembering that Malus had called it ‘flower’ and that one should always stop to smell them — though Gabriel had neglected to ask how one went about ’smelling’ things. I have so much to learn of this humanity. He touched the blossom, delighting in the softness of the petals. He made to grab the holly leaves to see if they, too, were as soft as the flowers, then jumped back startled when one of the thorny leaves stuck the end of his finger.

“Zounds! What beast of a bush be this?” he yelled to the sky, then stood mesmerized by the tiny red pearl forming at the tip of his finger. “Well now, I believe I know what this is,” he sighed, examining the droplet. “The stuff of human kind . . . the giver and taker of life — blood of the veins.” A breeze caressed his face as if in reply. “I’m human . . . I do not think I shall ever fully believe . . . I suppose I must.” Instinctually, he drew his finger to his mouth and sucked off the little red dab, before continuing up the walk.

It was when he reached the bottom of the stairs that another curious sensation crept over Gabriel — the strange and sudden urge to draw in long, deep breaths while stretching his mouth to a ridiculous size. He paused at the bottom of the front stairs, leaning on his walking stick, as once again, unbidden, he felt the strange little pop in his ears before his jaw stretched and his lungs sucked in what seemed to be gallons of air. “Oooooh mmmyyy!” He blinked, shaking the sensation away as best he could. “What in the name of Armageddon — ”

“I believe it is called . . . uh, a yowl, sir.”

Gabriel looked up to see Malus standing in the opened doorway, beckoning him to follow. Malus walked briskly along the polished marble corridor, speaking over his shoulder as he led the way.

“No, no, that’s not quite it. Oh, yes, a yawn. That’s it. Yawn.”

“A yawn? Is it normal?” Gabriel asked, trying to keep pace with Malus.

“Well, from what I’ve been able to tell from my observations, it is something humans seem to do quite frequently. Mostly when they are fatigued, but often when they are engaged in a particularly tedious task, or when they’re not very interested in the person they happen to be conversing with.”

“They do?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Well, it seems a bit odd, don’t you think? To have your jaw crank itself open as wide as the abyss?”

“I find much about human beings to be odd, yawning is the least of it. Ah. Here we are, your chamber has been made ready.” Malus stopped before a set of grand double doors that didn’t seem at all familiar to Gabriel.

“Chamber?”

“Your bed chamber, sir.” Malus pushed the doors open and swept into the room, crossing to the window and pushing aside a voluminous green drapery.

Gabriel stood in the entry curiously surveying the room that was filled with many strange furnishings. He knew what the tables and chairs were of course, and the chests filled with drawers, and the shelves lined with tomes, but the largest and most dominating piece of furniture was completely new to him — a cushioned platform of sorts, surrounded by posts, with folds upon folds of the same green fabric that hung at the windows.

“It is called a bed,” Malus explained as he turned down the coverlet and fluffed a pillow.

Gabriel ran his fingers over the silky draperies, transfixed by the way the light played upon the folds and ripples. “It is very pretty … ah, is this the place I will, …” he paused, searching for the word he wanted, “… sleep?”

Malus smiled and bowed. “Very good, sir.”

“And has each of our guests been provided with a … bed?”

“Of course. I must say they are a curious lot,” Malus said as he continued preparing the bed. “I took great pains to put each at ease with the place. Yet they remain suspicious and . . . ungrateful.”

“They are strange to Arcana, Malus. Patience. Is that not what you always advise for me?”

“Indeed,” Malus agreed, with a trace of a smile. “Now then, it is time for you to sleep. I believe the custom is that you should lie down here,” he indicated the now exposed bottom sheet, “and place your head here, on this.”

Gabriel pressed his hand onto the pillow, allowing it to sink deeply into the feathers. “Oh, that is pleasant.” He sat upon the edge of the bed and swung his feet up. “Like this?” he asked, slowly lowering himself against the pillow.

Malus frowned, placing a hand to his chin.

“Am I not lying down?”

“Oh, yes, but something is … ah! You are still dressed.”

Gabriel looked down to his garments. “Are they inappropriate?”

“For sleeping, yes. Fear not.” Malus hurried across the room to an ornate cabinet, and swung wide the door. “Ah yes, this is what this if for. I wondered what it could possibly be since it is so different from all the rest of the clothing. But it makes perfect sense.” He pulled a voluminous white frock from the cupboard and shook it out. “This, I believe, is called a nightshirt. Humans wear them for sleeping in. They are . . . ” he turned the garment front to back examining it, “… less confining.”

Gabriel saw no reason to argue with the man. After all it was Malus who had traveled beyond Arcana to observe these human creatures in detail. He would know better than Gabriel what a night shirt would be. As he stripped off the confining clothing he’d been wearing, he realized for the first time how truly restricting and uncomfortable it was to wear cloth and fabric against his newly sensitive skin. The shoes, in particular, were a great relief to shed. He stretched his toes and flexed them into the deep pile of the carpet, reveling in the tenderness of his soles. Trousers and shirt, shed he felt the breeze from the window brush against his newly exposed flesh.

“Oh. . . Malus, would that you could feel . . .”

Malus only watched, waiting patiently for Gabriel to reach for the night shirt. But Gabriel found he wanted nothing to come between himself and the breeze. “Must I?”

Malus put the nightshirt back where it came from, and closed the cupboard. “I see no reason. The whole idea in sleep, is to be comfortable while you do it. I quite agree it seems a silly habit these humans have, draping themselves in all this . . . stuff.”

“But you are wearing … a stuff.”

“Only because they expect it. Apparently it is frowned upon to allow your form to be exposed, though I cannot for the existence of me understand it. We are as we are, as I’m certain they are too.” He pulled the coverlet completely off the bed, setting it on a seat on the far side of the room. “After all, the beasts of the forests and fields, and creatures of the water and sky do not weave cloth in which to dress. No, they are content with the form they were given. And wiser for it, says I. What has clothing brought to humanity but yet another complication and means if division? There you are, all ready. Now, I believe you are ready to lie down.”

“Thank you, oh yes, it does feel much better.” Gabriel laid back, his head sinking into the feather pillow. “Oh, this. . . this is truly — ” Again, the unexpected stretching of his face and the quick intake of breath surprised him. “Am to experience this … yawning … often?”

Malus shrugged. “Probably.”

Gabriel folded his arms over his stomach and felt a sudden wave of fatigue wash over him. “What happens now?”

“You will sleep, I imagine.”

“Sleep. I’ve often wondered about it. How is it done, Malus?”

“I believe it just. . . happens. You close your eyes, and become limp, and unaware.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and completely relaxed. “Am I asleep?”

“No, I do not believe so.”

“How can you tell?”

“You’re still talking.”

“Does that stop?”

“Oh, yes. You will become completely oblivious to your surroundings.”

Gabriel opened his eyes, alarmed. “Will it hurt?”

“I do not think so,” Malus said, gently.

“How will I know when I am done sleeping?”

“You will awaken. Just as our guests did in the garden.” Malus placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder and smiled kindly. “Fear not.”

“Thank you, Malus. What shall I ever do without you?” Gabriel closed his eyes after another deep yawn. “What. . . shall . . .”

 

Malus stepped quietly to the door, looking back for a moment to Gabriel. He tilted his head at the odd site of his master lying still. “So human,” he said to himself, then slipped quietly from the room. “I suppose I should have warned him about those things called dreams.”