Chapitre 12: Chapter 12: Fooling Mom
I was on time to catch Daphne on her way to breakfast, surprised how early it still was. The dream of the mist had woken me well before my usual rising and thanks to falling asleep shortly after keeling over into bed I felt rested and prepared to give Lilith's suggestion a shot.
"Daphne." I tripped over my heels, determined to wear them in Mom's presence, to at least put on appearances in an effort to make this work. The more I thought about Lilith's suggestion, the more sense it made to me. If I could get Mom off my back, even for a little while, maybe I could figure things out on my own. Or give Dad the chance to convince her sending me out on fruitless, unhappy tasks that led to heartache was a terrible idea.
On the other hand, accepting this alternative might be shooting myself in the foot. If Mom thought I was suddenly useful she might never let me go. Still, I had to have some breathing room and Daphne's participation was the only way I was going to get it.
Fooling Mom, however, might be harder than Lilith thought.
My sister turned at the sound of her name, though didn't face me fully. Daphne waved off our other siblings who went on without her through the canopy of leaves and flowers, waiting for me to catch up. My heel caught on the bark again and sent me forward, but I caught myself before I fell into her arms.
Daphne's disgust wasn't hard to recognize, even without my talent for empathy. "Lilith spoke to me already," she said, sounding bored but at least vaguely positive so I could hope, at least. "Why should I ever consider making you look good?"
I hadn't thought of that and had to scramble for an answer. "My success," I said, "will be your success. Imagine being the daughter who was able to help the screw up finish her tasks as they were meant."
Daphne tapped one toe on the branch beneath her, the breeze up here wafting over both of us. She finally wrinkled her perky nose and waved me away like an irritating fly. "Fine," she said, walking away, hips sashaying alluringly, her favorite strut. "But." Daphne spun back toward me, scowl returned. "Stay out of the way. Do as you're told. And don't say a word."
I nodded, followed her as she returned to her aggressive forward walk, keeping my distance and trying not to worry I'd just agreed to some kind of pact with a demon I would never free myself from.
The branch ended in a set of winding stairs, so delicately woven from shining silver I always worried I'd put my foot through the steps. The scent of breakfast made my stomach growl loudly. I clutched at it in surprise, stumbling the final two stairs to the ground, the last to join the table for our morning meal.
Daphne seemed to revel in being late, making her way with commanding presence to sit next to Mom. I hurried to an empty seat at the far end of the curved semicircle, over a hundred of my sisters already seated, doing their best to look like angels as they chatted and preened.
"Eve." Mom's voice carried. I looked up, half in the small seat, two of my youngest sisters barely old enough for the big table sliding sideways to avoid contact with me. Eight years old or so and already aware of my status as the family leper. "Come here."
Only then did I notice the seat on her other side was empty. Daphne's furious scowl did nothing to make me feel better and I was so shocked by the offer I almost protested.
"Now." Mom smiled, but the command in that word was unmistakable and I simply didn't have it in me to refuse.
Everyone stared, from the slim, silent serving fauns to my sisters and even the birds overhead, who settled on the branches of the vines circling the broad, white table, while I made my awkward and uncomfortable way to the tall, marble chair waiting for me.
It felt like that walk took three years, but I was sure when I looked back on it maybe half a minute passed. Still, by the time I sank into the cold and unyielding stone seat next to my mother, I'd aged a million days.
The moment I was seated the chatter began again, birds returning to their singing, the serving fauns clip-clopping their way to the table to deliver our breakfast. Mom accepted hers with a kind smile for our server. I caught the shock in the girl's wide, brown eyes, the curl of her lightly furred muzzle, the way she tried to hide this change in my status. I knew exactly how she felt.
The whole feeling at the table had altered from the usual spark of disdain fading to purposeful ignoring into surprise and jealousy. Just what I needed the next six months.
"You have four tasks today," Mom said, taking a delicate bite from a slim slice of orange. Juice glittered in tiny droplets on her fingertips as she smiled at me. Four, that wasn't so bad. Daphne could handle four without chipping her manicure or mussing her skirt. This was doable, possible. There was hope yet. "And, so I'm sure you're trying your very best," Mom said, "I've decided I'm going to accompany you and your sister on your journey to better observe those tasks."
My mouth dried up instantly, any desire to eat dust in my gut as my stomach shriveled and the clever plan Lilith suggested died with it.
"Mother," Daphne said from her other side, ingratiating but with a hint of complaint in her voice. "Surely you're too busy for such a simplistic task. I'm pleased to-"
Mom's head turned slowly and silently. Daphne stopped speaking, ending in a soft squeak without our mother having to say a word.
"We depart in a half hour," Mom said. And continued eating her orange like she hadn't just ruined my life. Again.
I lingered over breakfast even when most of the others had gone, Mom departing shortly after her little announcement. Daphne didn't speak to me, not a word, her fury glared into her plate which she attacked with her golden knife and fork as though the contents were my soul. I let Daphne leave when she was done without comment, trembling inside, wanting to run away. I could, might make it to the Crosspath and Dad, maybe. Mom would come after me, but surely my father would protect me.
Inevitability finally drove me up and out of my new seat, carried me, unwilling and afraid, to the bridge where Mom and Daphne waited. My mother had donned a thin wrap over her bare shoulders and the long, embroidered dress hugging her flawless body in pure white silk etched with roses. She observed my approach without expression. My sister, on the other hand, had no trouble showing me just how she felt. I fell in behind Mom who led the way even as Daphne's hate slammed into me.
Anxiety formed a wall of protection around me, but did little to keep her anger out. By the time we exited into the Crosspath, Mom's swaying, steady gait leading the way, I was so wound up I was positive I would expire from sheer terror. Bad enough I had to fail at all at something I knew in my heart I wasn't meant to do. But to have my mother witness it firsthand... unbearable.
On the other side of the looming mess, maybe this was exactly what I needed. I looked up at that surprising thought, half expecting to see the doorway of mist appear. When it didn't, I retreated back into my thoughts while Mom crossed to the mortal realm portal. How plain it seemed, the ordinary metal door dented slightly on the bottom right corner, a bit of rust around the burnished steel knob, light gray/blue paint peeling. I'd always wondered why it seemed so tired and without much purpose compared to the other main doors. It was the entry to the mortal realm, the reason we were all here, after all. So many unanswered questions even Tulip couldn't find reason for. I held myself in that line of mental inquiry as a means of distraction while Mom gestured and the door opened at her command.
But no attempt to keep my mind from what was about to come could hold me for long. Though I clung to the fact if Mom saw just how inept I was, how big a failure for herself, maybe she would finally relent and let me go.
Heart lifting a little, not sure if I could handle the waffling emotions warring inside me or not, I followed my mother and my sister into the mortal realm and hoped for the best.
I wasn't expecting the busy street, the stench of human waste and excessive body odor, nor the cacophony of sound that assaulted us as we emerged into heat and bright sunlight. I knew where we were, recognizing India easily, felt Mom shielding our presence from the hurrying populace. A small boy with a pinched face, his brown skin scarred beneath his sightless, empty sockets, bumped into me with a small exclamation of surprise. I hurried past him, head down, hurting for him as much as for the rest of this poor part of the city. Poverty caused me near physical pain, the endless sorrow of those who had nothing as sharp as any knife. I had to hurry to keep up with Mom and Daphne, neither of whom seemed affected by the poor souls who called this part of the mortal realm their home.
Any time I felt sorry for myself, all I had to do was remember how horribly some humans lived.
The journey was short, but by the time Mom stopped outside a small hovel, the doorway a filthy sheet over muddy ground, I was numb and panting from the overflow of emotion around me. Daphne pinched my upper arm hard, in the soft skin above the bend of my elbow, jaw jutting when she caught my attention with cruel intent.
I stepped through the sheet and looked down at the girl, barely old enough to be a mother, who panted and screamed while the baby inside her tried to emerge.
"Eve." Mom's blue eyes watched me with more intensity than I'd ever felt from her before. "The task."
It might be a blessing to have me come to her, to do the opposite of what Life intended. The girl didn't know we were there, her family huddled in the corner of the hut, an older woman between her legs calling out in her native language. I blocked out the words, tried to focus while Mom gestured, impatient suddenly.
No time to think about what I was doing, not like with Nero and the old man in the hospital. The pressure from Mom's presence forced me to bend quickly at the waist and touch the girl's shoulder while she threw her head back and screamed.
The baby emerged an instant later, into the waiting hands of the old woman. I held my breath while she wiped his mouth and nose, tried not to mourn his poor, lost soul, waiting for one of my brothers to show and take him away.
Instead, the baby cried, loud and lusty, while the girl whose hot skin I still touched fell back and wept.
Wait. Did I...? I turned, caught Daphne's surprise, and, in that instant of success, Mom's disappointment.
I didn't have time to process the fact my mother wasn't happy I'd managed to do my job. Yes, it happened sometimes, but rarely. I had a terrible track record. Still, it boded well maybe. I'd given life as expected instead of the opposite.
Mom stared down at the baby with a pinched, disgusted look on her face before spinning and leaving the hovel. I followed hurriedly, Daphne next to me. Mom was already heading for a big, wooden door. I drew a careful breath on my own way through, preparing for what lay on the other side. Not more of this sad place, but instead a cool, bright and cheerful room. Some kind of maternity ward, in an unknown city, though from the smooth, almond eyed features of the three nurses who appeared and their quick, nasal language we were somewhere in Asia.
This time it was twins, two boys whose perfection shocked me, especially when both lived. I staggered from the room as the mother embraced her new babies with joy and excitement, wondering what was happening to me. Once, yes. Success once I'd experienced before, rare and selective as it seemed to be. But twice in a row? Maybe Mom was a good influence on me? Or she was right and this truly was my calling. Dad's release of his expectations could have jostled my angel of Life free. Or it was true I just hadn't given it the commitment it required.
I just wished Mom didn't look so irritated by the success or that Daphne seemed to take my ability to fulfill my tasks at last so personally.
Two down, two to go, the twins counting as one, much to my disappointment. When I saved an ailing mare from death, her foal delivered safely and happily in a fragrant barn somewhere in North America, Mom's grunt of disapproval almost made me protest. For the first time ever I was doing it, succeeding where I'd always failed before. And she was disappointed? This was her idea. I waffled between giddy excitement I wasn't making a mess and wondering with more hurt what I could possibly do to ever win her favor.
Mom stopped outside the doors of the barn and turned her back on me. "Daphne, darling," she said, voice smiling even if her aura pulsed with frustration. "See to it your sister completes her last task. I must go." She left us without another word, certainly without even a nod for me and I found myself staring after her with anguish in my heart, wishing I could go after her and demand from her what it was she wanted from me.
I'd tasted the barest delight of my mother's approval and attention and realized I'd longed for it my entire life.
Daphne snapped her fingers in my face, snarling. "Let's go," she said, spinning from me with her long, honey hair swinging. "I don't know what you think you're doing, Eve. But I'm sick to death of you." She slammed open a small door, bags of feed showing on the other side. "And your screw ups. Because now I know you've been faking it all along."
My mouth dropped open, protest on my lips, but she disappeared through the door and I had to follow her or get lost. She knew my last task's location, I didn't. I hurried after her, struggling with despair, realizing now no matter what I did I'd created a new hell for myself. The angel of life and death who succeeded after failing her whole life and proving she was a bigger disaster than anyone thought.
Nighttime enveloped me, the familiar hospital where I'd saved the old man a reminder of my failures and driving me deeper into floundering around in a pit of despair. Daphne hesitated at the doorway of a room, spinning to glare at me.
"Don't," she said, "screw this up." And stormed inside. I followed her, shoulders bowed, anxiety rising, fed by the fear of the parents inside. Something was wrong with the baby, mention of cords and necks though I wasn't here for those details. I had one job. As I approached the mother, my hand outstretched, I whispered my own hope for her and her unborn child.
Even as the mist rose in my vision and staggered me forward, my hand clutching convulsively on hers.
I knew the instant it happened, the moment death came where life was meant to thrive. And, despite my promise to myself, kept these sixteen years, I wept for this ultimate failure.
***
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone