Baptism

A Story by Mason

A short story

"C’mon, you little slowpoke, you’re gonna get caught if you can’t catch up!" A voice rasped through the humid summer night, roughness present due to the whisper it was carried out on. The tone was feminine, like wind-chimes or the crash of rain when it threw itself to the ground.

Luckily, the skies were dry tonight as two children slithered away from their respective houses, one far in front of the second, who was puttering and pattering on nervously behind. The ground crunched beneath the soles of the latter, tattered shoes nearly more worn than the earth below him. Yet he kept up no matter the state of his shoes, scrawny arms swinging lazily as he tried not to think of the Paris household he left behind in favor of sneaking out with his best- and only -friend. His mother would be worried sick if she awoke, but he moved on regardless, reluctantly trailing after Charlotte, using the vibrantly blonde hue of her curly locks as a lighthouse in the dark. “We’re going to get caught if you keep talking too!” He snapped back, though he was sure his voice was lost in the sudden wind whipping back his hair.

"Axel, don’t be ridiculous! How many times have we done this before?" Before he had time to reply, she went on, assuming his answer as she flashed back a radiant grin, one front tooth missing from the expression. "Tons, right?! So you have absolutely nothing to worry about!"

Casting his eyes to the river between them and their destination, the gray, stormcloud color of his irises squinted, as he contemplated her answer for little more than a few nanoseconds. “Technically, just because there is a repeated pattern of behavior doesn't necessarily mean something new won’t happen, especially if there is a variable of moving too quickly and making too much noise,” Axel responded, one corner of his lips curling up as he bounded forward the extra few paces it took to catch up to his friend. The brunet’s useless banter, as always, went mostly ignored.

The two eight year olds continued on their way without another breath of conversation, aside from a halfhearted tease on how he thought too much, which he only heard about ten times a day. Charlotte was a rare upwards slope in his seemingly downhill life. But his poor home life wasn’t what was important right now, and it wasn’t what he would delve into. Because his alcoholic dad was far less important than Charlotte’s brilliantly gaped grin, and the way she paused for him to catch up, expectantly and exaggeratedly tapping her foot until he caught up. Maybe it was how her hair bounced around her head like a completely separate being, or the trueness of her large, round mocha eyes. Axel couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something very special in the way his best friend moved, and how it put him in an indescribable awe. It was unique, how she taunted and teased and ran ahead because she was brave enough to face the night without a piece of armor to protect her or a sword to defend her.

This admiration he held for her traced back as long as Axel could remember. Since birth, she’d been the hero, and he’d been the sidekick. And never once had he minded. He enjoyed her and her babydoll face, plump with childhood innocence. He sunbathed in the warm glow of her absolute, concrete existence, appreciating her thereness more than he took into consideration her prettiness.

The path they decided was long, due to the river blocking their way. It practically took ages to follow the bank until they came across a bridge, which was considerably far from both of their houses, though the distance didn’t matter when the city loomed over them.

Delving into the towering, glowing buildings as a beggar would a loaf of bread, the two’s feet traced the ancient cobblestone roads as Axel took the lead, scanning for any sign of the store he yearned to find.

Eventually, they reached the shop. Axel had seen it caught in the eye of his friend since they’d first spied it, and felt he somehow owed it to Charlotte to explore.

Upon pushing through the bell-triggered door, realization struck that this wasn’t a store dedicated to selling one particular object, but a variety of many things. A vast amount of objects differed in color and size and shape, all brilliant enough to entice the attention of two mischievous eight year olds. Items ranging from a child’s musicbox to a frying pan hid among the shelves.

While nothing particularly interesting stood out to Axel, he could see Charlotte pick up a locket out of the corner of his eye, fishing it out from a pile of junk like a treasure chest hidden in sand. As he stalked closer, he could tell it was stained and old, it’s hinge probably much too rusted in order to properly swing open. However, to his surprise, he spied her pry it apart, the golden light of the store reflecting weakly against it’s worn surface.

Not a feature of this locket was anything out of the ordinary. It wasn’t shiny, or humorously gaudy. It didn’t jingle as it swung from its chain, and it didn’t reflex light well enough to attract the eye of anyone important. It didn’t appear to be pricey enough to steal, or trade away for something better. But at the same time, it wasn’t something Axel would abandon in the dirt and leave to rust away into nothing. And the naturally protective feeling he had of the piece was almost unsettling.

"Are you going to buy it?" He questioned, staring down the locket with refined interest. Most of him was ultimately indifferent to her final decision, but there still remained a small sliver of him that was curious to see the outcome.

About a minute passed before she responded to him, and when she did, there was a certain, regretting sadness lingering in her gaze that informed him of her reply before she even vocalized it. With a heavy, exhausted sigh, the locket was secured back in place, its pretty golden chain falling into a pile of tangled mess. It looked so unappreciated, surrounded by various other pieces of junk in the store. Even though its importance and beauty was still nothing special…A found himself vowing to come back for it later, to buy it as a gift for Charlotte’s next birthday, or perhaps a holiday gift.

Feeling weirdly compelled to apologize to her, as though he were at fault for her family’s lack of monetary income, Axel opened his mouth, though shortly closed it afterwards, silently intertwining their fingers and pulling her towards the exit. “It’ll be four soon, my mom will wake up for work then,” He explained quietly, squinting at his friend in open concern. At least Charlotte seemed to have gotten over her disappointment, the common flickering flame found in her eyes reignited now that they were out of the shop and back into the dimly lit streets.

Though he knew of their quickly draining heap of time, Axel couldn’t bring himself to decline the other’s offers to venture into just a few more shops before their final departure. The two wove themselves a magnificent spiderweb of locations, hopping from bakery windows that had yet to release the mouth-wetting scent of pastries, to clothing shops overflowing with ruffles and patterns, to nightclubs that they didn’t dare come too close to. The outskirts of Paris bustled with activity here and there, and even if one had to squint a bit to see it, a sight as simple as two lovers on a park bench was entrancing enough to distract the young lad of his quickly draining time.

Rapidly, he snapped out of his hypnotized-like state, blankly looking to his watch in an expression of horror. “Mum’s gonna be awake soon! We have to go, now!” He hissed, grabbing his companion’s scrawny wrist quickly enough to dig his nails in a bit. Adrenaline instantly flooded his veins, his heart pumping with every lost, draining minute. Breath that usually came as a refreshment now cut his lungs like razorblades as they ran, eyes wide with worry. If he somehow wasn’t able to return home before dawn…if his mother or father awoke to find his bed vacant…Oh, he couldn’t even bear to finish the thought! Luckily, despite their tiny, stubby legs which they had yet to grow much of, the children were surprisingly quick in tracing their way back to the river separating them from their destination. The dark horizon was slowly drifting into lighter shades, the black of night not seeming quite so black anymore.

"We don’t have time to find a bridge," He observed hollowly, standing on the edge of the bank and pulling oxygen quick and hard into his lungs after running so far. When he looked down at the water now, it seemed like tar. Dark, and ominous.

Interrupting his thoughts, Charlotte lightly bumped her hip with his. “Well, then we’ll just swim across. I finished my lessons ages ago, it’s pretty much, like, second nature to me by now!” She chirped reassuringly, stunning him with a squinty-eyed, tooth-gap grin.

Drawing in a deep sigh, as though this would help him completely catch his breath, Axel gave a nod, ignoring the whip of wind as it ruffled his hair.

In reality, the river probably wasn't even that big. Maybe a little over 9 feet wide, it would barely take more than a couple minutes of being submerged in freezing liquid, and they would be out, and safe at home. Undetected, like always.

"Alright, let’s do this!" The continuously happy tune of his friends voice was another consistent reassurance. "On the count of three, then," Charlotte confirmed, her fists clenched like rocks at her sides.

"1…2….3!"

The boy paused, just a fraction after the number was shouted. He watched his friend take a leap forward, and the simple sight of her jumping gave the final spurt of courage he needed to follow.

And then, just like that, he was surrounded in ice. Not literally. At least, he thought. A coldness not unlike the sting one got when they held an icecube for too long was suddenly overwhelming his senses. Just break the surface, he instructed himself, his thin, scrawny legs pedaling him upwards as his hands clawed to feel the warmth of fresh air on his face. And for half a second, his lips found the dryness held above the distressed river, though as soon as Axel could suck in a breath, he was being yanked beneath again, the current snapping at his heels like a rabid dog. His conscience, crooning in his ear, instructed him firmly to remain calm. He kicked confidently against the waves, even as they attempted to introduce him to their depths. And though he was thoroughly determined to be warm and tucked into bed before his mother was awake, this work was exhausting. Battling the foamy, frigid water as it slapped his round cheeks was extremely tiring, but eventually, he could feel his motoring legs kick shore. Ears ringing with the sound of water sloshing around in his skull, Axel crawled onto the shore, rubbing at his watery eyes.

"Hey, next time we want to find a route home, lets work on constructing a path that won’t kill us, huh?" He mumbled to his friend, pushing wet strands of dark hair away from his face as he straightened up. Expectations told him that at the end of his gaze, he would find those same giant, chocolate eyes.

However, reality showed him nothing but open air.

Furrowing his brows in initial confusion, Axel turned back to the now menacing river, listening to the slosh of water against the bank. Surely Charlotte would surface soon. She was Charlotte. The young man was genuinely shocked the waves didn't just part for her and give her stones to walk on so her shoes wouldn't get wet.

But even as the minutes crawled on, the lady didn't rise. The ripples that had formed when his body shattered the surface were beginning to settle, unlike his furiously pounding heartbeat. “Charlotte?” he called uncertainly, standing at the edge of the shore and peering into the black water, darkened by the obsidian sky stretched out above him.

Though the average boy would instantly jump to the fairytale belief that this was just a practical joke, Axel had always been the type to slip into the worst mindset. Thus, he came to the conclusion that Charlotte was thrashing beneath the surface, fighting the current as vigorously as she could, even as her muscles weakened with every moment she was submerged. In other words…

Drowning.

The thought registered, and he was set off like a rocket, darting through thick ferns and elongated grass, no longer keeping a conscious effort to conserve the foliage to avoid suspicion. The closest house was only a few minutes away, but…it was a few minutes that could make the difference between Charlotte making it out of the river, or kissing the bottom.

His legs were stumpy, and his limbs were narrow, but he ran as fast as he could in the direction of the looming household, their windows black. The longer he hurdled himself through the thick field, the harder it became to keep his breathing under control. He was calm, yes, but he always had been in times where he should panic- which is why it came as a surprise when the grumpy, and slightly alarmed man who answered the door pointed out the tears clinging to his cheeks and slipping down his throat.

"""

In less than half an hour, blue and red lights were the only things he saw in his vision. Paramedics, rescue teams, and police swarmed the length of the river. Everyone seemed to be shouting, shouting, and although he was forcibly kept a good distance from the water, the only thing he could hear was the sound, rolling over like thunder in his mind. Even his mother’s comforting whispers, crooned into his ear while he lingered within the twisted cage of her arms couldn’t overpower the noise. He was both petrified and restless, scanning the river and letting his eyes leap from uniformed silhouette to uniformed silhouette, never focusing enough on a person long enough to make out any significant details. And even though the sun, a symbol for hope, was slowly beginning to peer around the horizon’s edge, his insides felt like they were still sinking in the river.

It wasn't difficult to understand what had happened. She was surely gone by now, and the only job these people had left to do was to fish her body out of the water like pollutant waste. And although he felt like he should be filled with a despair more cold and helpless her flesh certainly was by now, he simply wasn't. He was just empty. From the heavy, damp clothes clinging to his limbs, up to the constellation of tears clinging to his eyelashes, he was more hollowed out and exhausted than he could ever remember being.

He was sure she was alive, somewhere. So sure..so sure….

Shrouded in the protective veil of his mother’s embrace, Axel Babineau soon drifted from consciousness, peacefully entering the lapse of sleep while his best and only friend died at the bottom of the rushing, roaring stream.