Chapter 13 Aanya

Chapter 13 Aanya

            I greet my Sunday morning with a delicious plate of pancakes and sitting lazily in front of the TV catching up on my favorite show. The episode finishes and I scroll through the DVR ready to click on the next one when Brooklyn comes running in shouting, “Look! Look! I found a caterpillar.”

            “Good for you,” I say, selecting the next episode.

            Brooklyn walks in front of the screen holding out her hands, “Look! Isn’t he so cute?”

            I press pause and look into the palm of her hand. A small little green man appears with a white mustache and a suit. “Brooklyn, I don’t think that’s a caterpillar,” I say a little scared.

            “What do you mean?”

            I point to the little green man and raise my brow, “What do you mean, what do I mean? Look at it.”

            “It looks like a cute little caterpillar.”

            “No it doesn’t!”

            “Whatever you say Aanya,” Brooklyn says, a confused look overcoming her face.

            Brooklyn heads back outside and I turn the TV back on. My mind wanders and I begin to think about what I saw. A little old green man with a white mustache and an overcoat was standing in my sister’s hand? It is almost like I’m Alice seeing the white rabbit for the first time. Maybe I have some secret hidden power, maybe I’m still dreaming; sometimes dreams are very vivid after all.

            I snap back into reality and realize that I’m halfway through my show and I have no idea what’s going on. I turn the TV off and breathe deeply, “Maybe I should follow the caterpillar and see if I can find a rabbit hole.” I smile because I’m just that funny. I walk into the kitchen to place my plate into the sink and walk upstairs to my bedroom. I throw on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, Sunday is a call for laziness. I look at my nightstand where the clock reads 10:45; I realize I’d be in church right now if Mom wasn’t sick. I put on my favorite red converse and head out into the hallway where I hear my mom groan, “Aanya.”

            “What does she want?” I mouth to myself.

            I walk down the hallways and into her bedroom, “Yes Mom?”

            “Can you get me a water bottle?” she asks through her stuffy nose.

            “Sure,” I reply walking back into the hallway and into the garage. “Water bottle, water bottle,” I repeat. “Yes, water bottle,” I mutter reaching out to grab one. I begin to walk back into the house but stop dead in my tracks. I remember what’s happened over the last twenty-four hours, the fly, the bird, the rock, another fly, and the caterpillar. I look into the water bottle where I see a faint sparkle. “What?” I whisper.

            I walk back into the garage and retrieve another water bottle for my mom. I look into it and don’t see a sparkle like in the last, “Weird,” I whisper again.

            I head back upstairs and hand my mom the water bottle without the sparkle, “Here you go.”

            “Thanks Sweetie,” she coughs.

            “No problem.”

            I turn into my bedroom and close the door the sparkling water bottle still clutched in my hand. “Let’s see here,” I say to myself. I glance into the water bottle and see no sparkle, “Dang it, I gave Mom the wrong one,” I groan banging my head against the wall. “Ow, that hurt,” I growl rubbing my head. I toss the water bottle on the ground and pace back and forth across my bedroom. After several minutes I see a faint glow out of the corner of my eye, I jerk my head toward the water bottle and race to pick it up. I open up the water bottle and bring it up to my nose, “smells normal,” I imagine.

I bring the water bottle away from my nose and slips out of my hands and onto the floor. Water gushes out all over the floor, “No, no, no!” I holler.

“What are you doing?” I hear Brooklyn yell through the door.

“Nothing!” I shout, “Just go away!”

“Nothing, just go away,” I hear Brooklyn mimic as she walks away.

I rush to pick up the water bottle hoping to save some of the mysterious water. I rush into the hallways and return with a towel once again locking my door. I press on the water spot to soak up the water that’s resting in the carpet. I push as down as hard as I can and nothing happens, the towel is still dry.

I put the rag down beside me and feel where the water had spilled, it’s dry. I continue to touch the spot and I still feel nothing. I pick up the half empty water bottle and take a sip. I feel water enter my mouth and slide down my throat, perfectly normal. I stare into what is left and a few sparkles float up through the water like bubbles. I poor the water onto my hand, on purpose this time, and I feel nothing, it’s almost like there’s no water touching me at all. I look at the water bottle as I continue to poor, it’s clearly getting empty, some of the syrup from my waffles is sliding off, but I cannot feel the water.

“It’s like magic,” I utter capping the water bottle and carrying it out into the hallway.

“Brooklyn?” I call.

“What?” I hear her reply from inside her bedroom.

I knock on the door and ask, “Can I come in?”

“Come in,” she replies.

I open the door only to hear her ask, “What do you want?”

“Look at this water, what do you see?”

She pulls the water bottle from my hands and looks at it, “I see water.”

“That’s it, nothing else?”

“I see some bubbles.”

“Interesting,” I think to myself.”

“Can I drink some of this? I’m thirsty.”

“Knock yourself out,” I answer, thinking more about the water.

“Whoops,” Brooklyn cries, “spilled.”

I jerk my head and look at Brooklyn, water was racing out of the water bottle and her clothes weren’t getting wet. I hurry and grab the water bottle from her hoping she didn’t notice.

“Why aren’t my clothes wet?”

“I don’t know. You probably just imagined it, bye,” I say quickly, rapidly heading out of her bedroom and into mine.

I had seen the sparkle while she looked at it, but why didn’t she? Her clothes weren’t wet, which means there is something strange going on, very strange.

I place the water bottle under my bed and go downstairs racing through the front door. I walk down the sidewalk looking for anything unusual. On my little stroll I find a tree that turned out to be a home for little leaf animals, a caterpillar that looked much like the one my sister had earlier except it was bluer, and a few bees, which were actually fairies, collecting pollen.

As I continue to walk I see my neighbor pulling weeds out of her garden.

“Hello,” she says her voice soft and sweet.

“Hello,” I smile back.

“How is your mom doing, I heard she was ill.”

“She’s doing fine,” I reply, “she’s getting better with each passing hour.”

“That’s good.”

“I’ll see you later,” I say.

“Alright, have a nice day.”

As I pass by her I see her wide brim hat slowly transform into the hood of a white cloak, and her overalls into a glistening white dress. Her brown hair transforms from a scraggly gray color into long and luscious blonde curls. Her face turns young and beautiful, and she has a sparkling glow around her, as if she were an angel.

“Is everything alright dear?”

I break my stare and answer back, “Everything is just fine.”

I finish my walk not noticing anything different; all I can think about is how my sweet old neighbor transformed into a beautiful, enchanting being. I head back into the house and lie down on the couch.

I think about everything that has happened and reach a conclusion, I have powers. Not powers that were formed by use of imagination, real powers, the kind not found on Earth.