Episode One: "The Sea"

ECCLESIA'S RAIN

Episode one: “The Sea”


I remember running to the sea; my thoughts stretched across the vast blue until they faded into the milky horizon. Winter's breath cooled the sand and chilled the soles of my feet, and I breathed a gentle wind. I indulged myself in this realm of endless waters like a mother loses herself in her first child. Its size and magnificence mesmerized me as a distinctive sense for control tingled across the palms of my hands.

Mr. Trice studied me that morning as I sat behind a counter waiting for the shop to open. When the first of two Suns rose, the people of our village left their sylvan homes for work, and when the rim of the second sun glittered just above the trees, the village stirred. Mr. Trice described a time when two Suns were one, but he declared the legends false. His Suns however grew feeble with age, and someone with good eyes needed to manage the money; he trusted only me.

“What are you staring at?” He inquired with a decrepit tongue.

My languid movements kept me quiet and heavy-eyed, and the following moments flapped by until he chose to break the silence once more.

"Serenity." Mr. Trice bellowed my name like he'd call a dog. "Do you live?"

I rocked my head as my senses cleared. “I’m drained this morning--nothing catches my attention.”

He pushed the frayed bristles of his broom against the polished hardwood; the air reeked with dust. “Then you may take the day off if you wish.”

“I can't.” I tangled my arms and stretched my jaw. “You need me, and I need the coins.”

He halted and leaned on the back-bone of his broom. He closed his eyes and hummed to himself before he spoke. “I will pay you for the day. The rain outside will kill today's business anyway. I can handle the shop on my own."

His words tugged at distant thoughts that I never discussed. “I swear the rain follows me...."

His brow rose. "Pardon me?"

“I’m thinking aloud.” I shrieked with the volume of a whisper.

"It's not so horrible to think aloud."

My eyes widened but focused on nothing. “They may hang me if I spoke what I thought.”

He rose his chin. “Then they’d be hanging a beautiful mind."

"You’re too kind�""

“You know,” his voice rose over mine, “that I am a heartless b*****d."

I peered at him with a dainty smirk. “You have your days. Today isn't one of them though."

I spun on my stool, and my attention flittered out the window. The rain trickled across small puddles, and kept the hatched roofs of the buildings across the street glossy. The tender wind broke the stillness of a half-grown tree who's branches hung over the porch, and a clasp of droplets sounded. My skin tingled, and I starved.

“Serenity." He shouted my name. “Take the rest of the day off. I am not in need of your services.”

I heaved a breath, and tossed my head. My locks rolled from my chest and fell across my back. “What will I do?"

Minutes from the rise of the second Sun, the open-and-closed sign that hung loosely from a bent nail rattled against the window.

From the corner of my eyes, I peered at Mr. Trice. “Serenity, it’s raining. Let our guest in.” He commanded me with not only his voice, but his hand as well. He'd scold me later for my hesitation.

Mr. Trice possessed a gift that allowed him to move things without touching them, and before I gripped the handle, it turned itself. The early stranger shielded himself with a wiry umbrella, and I knew that only the wealthy wielded such devices. Mr. Trice parted me and the stranger. "Do come in." Mr. Trice's grip on the edge of the door tightened, and I proceeded to take my place behind the register.

I straightened my back, raked my hair with my fingers, and controlled a dour look of professionalism as the stranger shook his umbrella dry. "I know the Sun to the West has yet to rise, but I’m in a bit of a hurry.” He sounded like an untuned piano, but with the softness of a piano nonetheless.

“Nonsense." said Mr. Trice. “You are more than welcomed. How might I assist you?”

The gloom in the shop continued to linger and was usually more lightened if the Sun to the West had risen. I glared at him unwelcomely and hid my aggravation well. The candles sat on a shelf across from my knees beneath the counter, but I'd only use them if the rain fell too heavy to lighten the shop or if I assisted a customer past the set of the first Sun. With the new curfew in affect, I no longer found it wise to keep the shop open past the Sun to the West's decline into the horizon, because the Guards of the night watched the people like a wolf examining her prey. Like the wolf, I followed the stranger's silhouette.

"Do you seek a particular item?"

"I do." The stranger swiveled as his volume downed. "I was told you'd have Flare Scales."

Mr. Trice hummed to himself. "I suppose I might have some in the back. What is it you intend to do with them?"

"I know every reason why they are illegal," the stranger spoke through his teeth. "I know how they can be used, but I promise you my intentions aren't vile."

Mr. Trice finished. "Well, you may wait at the counter while I check."

"I kindly thank you." said the stranger.

The stranger tossed his coin purse on the counter before me and his umbrella strategically between it and the register. I sneered at the flaunted wealth, but when I took a second glance, he continued to fidget around in pockets filled to bulges on his thighs.

He discontinued the dig in his pockets, and looked for Mr. Trice's return. "I need this to be quick." said the stranger.

He stopped and narrowed his eyes. We launched ourselves into one another, and though I repulsed him I could not dismiss him from my presence. The brown of his eyes twitched behind a milky glaze, and for just a moment I thought the milkiness had taken his sight.

"Who might you be?" uttered the stranger as if he asked himself and my presence happened to be a mere fragment of his mind, a ghost that's haunted him in a distant dream.

I concentrated to breathe. "Serenity." I rose from my stool. "I suddenly feel like I have another name though."

Confusion drowned him out, and he shook his head. "I feel the same, and I don't know."

The encounter escalated and I allowed it to. I scanned for a possible explanation. Maybe we crossed paths one day in the market, conversed, and never desired to meet again. I constructed solution after solution, but I found little evidence to support the fact that we had met before. I widened my eyes and found the dark wood of the counter more appealing. "I apologize."

"Please don't."

Everything in my eye sight became blurry as I pondered upon those moments. I gripped the edge of the counter as the rise and fall of my chest intensified. I bit my lip before I asked "Do I know you?"

"I-" he shuffled. "I don't think so."

His finger tips brushed against my cheek, urging me to rise and look him in the eyes. When his skin joined mine, repulsion no longer devoured me, but instead it unearthed a drive of obsession, a drive to know the unknown. I shivered as the world went hazy and I harmonized in the center of his universe.

He breathed his words. "You are most beautiful."

I reached and took hold of his wrist. He didn't refrain as I pulled his fingers from my cheek and I rested his hand on the counter. "I'm sorry but I don't know you." I quivered.

"That was out of line." He lowered his shoulders as if I scalded him.

I shook my head. "It wasn't out of line. But it was something--"

In the back of the shop, the door groaned as Mr. Trice trotted, and said pompously "You didn't get these from here." He placed a small cloth bag on the table.

The stranger stared at the bag on the counter. "How much?"

"Pay what you'd like or don't pay at all. I'm not supposed to sale this anymore." Mr. Trice fled the scene.

The stranger opened his coin purse and placed two pig-skinned colored coins on the counter top. "This should be enough," he said as he hurried through his pockets, picked up his umbrella, and dashed to the exit.

"Who are you?" I stopped him as his umbrella opened with a swoosh and the rain pattered against its edge.

As the outer light brightened his profile, he paused in distress. "I'll never see you again, you know that?"

I bit my lip as my stomach curled. "Then I couldn't imagine why it'd matter if I knew your name."

He nodded. "Kaze."

The day passed like the drying of clay on a river's bank. The events and characters refused to let it end, and I understood nothing. Midday, the rain ceased and the skies emptied of the white masses that brought the downpours. I fancied the clouds that decorated the green horizon. They hovered over a land I'd never see.

Kaze's name alone encompassed the mundaneness, and for the first time my work seemed meaningless and unhelpful. My eyes darted for the door every time the bell jingled, but only to discover one of our more loyal customers.

Mrs. Dollary carried a purse inside of a much larger purse for when she purchased more items that couldn't fit inside of the larger purse. My eyes enlarged on the day she pulled a third purse from her smaller purse. She laughed, comparably to the awkwardness of a broken trombone, and her giggles always forced me to laugh with her. When she caught her breath, she flapped her hand and squealed "Don't make me. Please, don't make me." I held my questions and never knew what she meant.

Scotll opposed Mrs. Dollary, but she didn't mind him. She enjoyed seeing him angry, and it seemed like most days they entered the shop just minutes apart. Red spots bloomed across Scotll's cheeks from the mere sight of her. Mr. Trice said they once fancied one another, but their relationship grew sour when she chose to steal another man's hand. Mrs. Dollary manipulated her new husband for personal reasons, and Scotll pleaded and offered her the shoes off his feet, to the air he breathed and the spark that prevented his body from rotting. Mrs. Dollary planned her future much differently than his though, and it saddened me to see him bitter and lonely.

Mrs. Dollary's sister found her way into the shop on some days. She purchased spices and jared vegetables. "Do you know Mrs. Dollary?" she asked when no one browsed the shop. "She saved my life, you know. The man she married was a healer, and he cured my illness for nothing in return." She hugged herself and shook her plump body. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here now."

Every time Mrs. Dollary's sister entered, I thought that Scotll should know that he lost his loved one because she needed to save her sister, a selfless act of courage. Mr. Trice shook his head, and said "It's none of our business to tell such secrets. I'd suggest you keep it to yourself."

The shop closed when the first Sun set, along with all the other shops. The Guards dressed themselves in black, and scanned the herds of people as they left work and found their homes.

On a slope my home rested. However, I hardly rested during the hours I'd spend there.

My sister brewed tea. The aroma brought back memories of our Mother in the early mornings--when she brewed it for my father. She forbade my sister or I to drink it, but my Father slipped us a cup occasionally, and we snuck it into the bathing room, locked the door, and consumed its bitter sweetness.

But it wasn't my Mother's tea--it was my Sister's tea, and it'd never taste the way Mother fixed it again.

Lauren, my sister, pulled her yellow spotted blouse above her round belly and rubbed it. "I still haven't decided on a name."

I sipped on a glass of water at the kitchen table. "You're only searching for a girl's name. You haven't even thought of a boy's name."

"I don't want a boy." Lauren froze as I gawked upon her ignorance.

"You have a fifty-fifty chance, and I believe chances are random. You have no control over the gender of your baby."

Lauren sipped on her tea with an equally hideous stare. "It's a bit late for such a sharp tongue."

"I'm always sharp, but not always bright."

Her cup sounded as it struck the counter top. "Now you're modest?"

I hummed, a trait I picked it up from Mr. Trice, but I only used it when conversing with Lauren. "Hasn't Krio decided on a name?"

"Krio, my loving husband, tells me to stay inside and let no one see me. Other than that, he refuses to look at me much less carry on a conversation."

I clasped my hands together and focused on the melted candle at the center of the table. Lauren left it burning one night. In another universe, we died that night. But in another universe, we died the night our parents died, and maybe--so I pondered in my deepest thoughts--in another universe our parents didn't die at all.

"You can't really blame Krio for being angry with you." I said.

"Excuse me?"

I scrunched my nose, and hesitated to continue. "You do look like a w***e. He claims you and him haven't slept with each other in months, yet here you are with child."

Her spirit melted. "You don't believe me? After everything we've been through, you think I'm lying."

I turned my chair, it's legs wailed against the hardwood. "I am skeptical, yes, but I'll believe you until something tells me otherwise."

A cloud of dark smoke swamped the living quarters and dimmed the candles, but Lauren and I saved our energy. Krio, Lauren's husband and my brother-through-marriage, fell from the heap of nothingness.

I sipped my water, squinted, and predicted the following conversation. His inky eyes twitched, and the twitch alone alerted me that he changed focus. No one knew what concerned him unless he spoke, and unless he walked, he stood motionless and calm.

Lauren blew at the rim of a cup of tea.

"Is dinner not fixed?" Krio asked me.

I swayed my head from left to right.

"Why is dinner not ready?" He kept in the hall.

"I didn't ask why there was no dinner. Perhaps you'd like to ask Lauren yourself?" I said.

He dipped his head. "I'll eat tomorrow in the market."

He sat in his favorite armchair, and stared at the unlit fireplace with his head resting on his shoulder.

"Are you going to cook dinner?" I asked Lauren for him.

Lauren sneered. "He's childish and there's no need for this unnecessary drama. There's his answer."

I turned my attention back to Krio. "Should I repeat it?"

He shook his head like a slowed metronome, and later descended into sleep. Lauren mimicked him, but instead she took the master bed, and shortly after Lauren, I settled beneath the warmth of my quilts.

And with nothing but a flickering candle to keep me company, I reflected upon my encounter with Kaze. I repeated the same questions, and discovered nothing.

Like a book separated from its first and last chapters, I dreamed of an alien time. The air around me smelled normal in the moments of my vision, and I performed in the ways that I performed while conscious, but the events were foreign.

Kaze shivered with lips as blue and purple as an untouched pond in winter. A crimson pool spread around his naked feet, and my lips fell. I followed the stream of red up his legs and stomach until I reached a hole ripped in his chest.

With a bloodied hand, he rose a mass of rosy tissue. It twitched against the cold air as Kaze urged me to take it from him.

My bottom jaw quivered, and I shook my head. "Ray, what are you doing?"

The pupils in his eyes receded in and out, and dwindled smaller with every passing second. He encouraged for me to accept the heart in his hand with a nudge.

"No, I don't want it like this. You're suffocating. You can't breathe." I backed away as my senses deadened and the numbness extended throughout my limbs.

I screamed and contorted my body in my bed as the sweat beaded from my forehead, and soaked the sheets and quilts. I clenched my face and made certain I breathed. My chest rose and fell, and my heart beat at the pace of one hundred running mustangs.

My sister screamed a cry loud enough to wake half the village. I covered my ears, and pressed, but nothing drowned out the inconceivable racket.

The quiet followed the ringing.

Reviews

[Bear]

Polished, crisp and clean. You excellent descriptions induce mental imagery that brings this story to life. Unlike many of the read request I have gotten, you know what you are writing about as your word usage shows. There are no misused words or phrases to try and add color to hide weak writing, or large complicated words or phrases to try and make your work sound smarter. It is refreshing to read something natural, realistic and believable without all the air of pretension success can cause. In short I enjoyed your story and they way it is written and if published I hope the publishers editing does not alter the foundation of the story. Thank you for inviting me to read your story and rather than comment on each chapter I am leaving a whole story review here on the first chapter, I hope you don't mind my doing it that way :~)

[TL Boehm]

Vivid imagery throughout this piece, that last part with Kaze, I was gripped, reading it several times both revolted and impressed - and solid dialogue, compelling characters - well done.

[Writergirl]

What I've read so far is amazing. I will read more, it may take me some time but I'll get to it :)

[Coyote Poetry]

A outstanding opening chapter. I like the location and the situation. I liked how the characters interacted. You gave enough description of place and made me want to know and read more. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote