Chapter 6 - You Owe Me a New Tote Bag

Chapter 6 You Owe Me a New Tote Bag

“I request permission to panic and scream,” Ruthantasis said after a few moments of silence. “This seems like an appropriate time for that reaction.”

Sydney swallowed down her fear. That didn’t work. It came rushing back up again and she thought she was going to puke. “Permission granted,” she said.

Everyone screamed. Ruthantasis and Krale started running around in circles, flailing their little arms around in the air. Krale was constantly tripping over his own stem legs, though, and face planted onto Sydney’s bed. He refused to get up. Sydney’s knees buckled and she fell onto the floor. All the blood had completely drained from her face and she sat there, staring at the remains of her tote bag.

“Krale, you owe me a new tote bag,” she said.

“Please don’t talk about it,” Krale said, but his face was buried in Sydney’s covers, so it came out more like Pfweese don tok babout id.

“AAAHHHH!” Ruthantasis screamed, then stopped, plopped a sugar cube into his mouth, and started screaming again.

”Okay stop!” Sydney shouted, holding her hands out. Everyone froze. Ruthantasis had one leg in the air. Very comedic, would've been what Sydney would have normally thought if not for her heart pounding like lions in her chest. Sydney looked to Krale for answers. “Hey…you’re an elder, right? Surely you know what’s going on.”

“Yeah! If you’re so smart, then prove it!” said Ruthantasis.

“You were the one who said you wouldn’t mind world domination!” Krale answered.

“That was before my sugar cubes got threatened!” Ruthantasis hugged his jar of sugar to his chest. Sydney groaned.

“Please just tell me what to do!” Then, she looked at the maraca on the floor. “Who wants to dispose of the maraca?”

Sydney looked around the room. Silence.

Suddenly, Ruthantasis squatted to the floor. “Dibs out!” he called out.

“Dibs out!” Krale shouted, and squatted to the floor too. Sydney was a split second too late, and she groaned again. She walked over to the deadly instrument, muttering to herself about how God surely hated her.

“I blame all five Gods,” said Ruthantasis. “Just one is not nearly enough.” He shook his head at the maraca as Sydney carried it over to the trash bin. Quickly, she tied the trash bag up and put it outside of her door.

“What do you mean five Gods?” she asked.

“You know, Lord Samira, Sage Eulalia, Emperor Bodhi, Count Alaric, and Goddess Volkra,” Ruthantasis said.

“What?” Sydney scrunched up her eyebrows, confused. She decided to drop the subject. Trying to make sense of everything that happened today would just make her head explode. “Grandma! Will the trash man come tomorrow?” she shouted down the stairs, her head poking out from her door frame.

“Yes, he’s coming tomorrow. What do you need?” Marjorie Cohen answered.

“I’ve got my trash outside of my door, if that’s alright.”

“That’s fine. I’ll pick it up later. Get some sleep, sweetheart.” Grandma’s voice turned gentle towards the end. “That cold isn’t going to fix itself.”

Sydney told her grandma she would and closed the door behind her. Sydney’s head spun.

Getting sleep was the last thing she could do. Not with a flaming maraca outside her door and her favourite tote bag disintegrated. Somehow, the thought of having two talking Foods in her room didn’t seem as wild as it had this morning anymore. You know, since she was more preoccupied with the not accidentally burning down the whole house thing.

“Krale,” Sydney said, turning to the salad bowl. She hated how desperate she sounded, but she had been completely swept off her feet this time. “What is happening? Why is this happening?”

“I…” The salad bowl was at a loss for words. Either he didn’t know what was going on, or he didn’t know how to explain it. Sydney secretly hoped it was the latter. She’d rather know what was going on, even if it scared Krale to his wit’s end. “Let’s all sit down,” the salad bowl suggested, and everyone took a seat on the bed. Krale took a moment to take deep breaths, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. Ruthantasis had completely finished his whole jar of sugar cubes because of stress. He now resorted to chewing his jelly nails.

“I have a faint idea of what’s happening…but I don’t know the whole picture,” Krale admitted. Sydney nodded, urging him to continue. “It’s like I said before, Sydney. You’re a Primitive gradana.”

Sydney stayed silent.

“For once, I agree with the old leaf,” Ruthantasis said, looking up at Sydney. “You’re not…whatever you think you are. You are a Primitive, Sydney.”

She let that sink in. Then she shook her head furiously. “No, I---”

“You were the one who opened a portal, connected this realm to Geveodu, and brought us here.” Krale gestured to him and Ruth.

“Don’t forget the sugar cube jar,” Ruthantasis added. “I think you did that unconsciously when you were downstairs.”

Sydney thought back to when her blood had tugged in the biology lab. That was before any of the weird things had started happening. Then she remembered how her body had turned cold twice during dinner, how she felt like something inside of her had ripped apart.

Maybe that rip wasn’t actually a rip from inside her body, but a rip of space and time…?

“I felt it,” Sydney admitted, “Twice at school, when you guys suddenly popped up. Then, two more times during dinner. I’m guessing the first one was for the sugar jar, so the second one must’ve brought…”

“…The maraca,” they all said together.

“The maraca is definitely from our world, though,” Ruth told Krale, and the old salad bowl nodded.

“The only realm it could possibly come from is the Volcanic Realm, but what I don’t understand is how it could emit such power? It shouldn’t be possible. It feels ancient, like a godly weapon, almost.” Krale racked his brains for an answer, but none came. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, and the world enveloped them in a dark indigo blanket. Still, all Sydney felt was the cold.

“A godly weapon?” Ruthantasis asked. “But no one can strip the Gods’ of their weapons!”

Krale bonked him in the head. “That’s why I said it was impossible, you dimwit!”

“But, how do we stop me from…doing all that again?” Sydney asked. If there was no answer to this question, she would actually accept therapy. It sounded nicer than whatever she was dealing with right now.

“I---” The two Foods spoke at the same time.

Ruthantasis looked at Krale, confused.

“You go first,” Krale said.

“Well, I was going to say I don’t know…”

Krale threw his hands down. “Well, that was helpful!”

“I’m sorry, okay? At least I’m trying!” Ruthantasis protested. Krale took a deep breath in.

“Child, you’re lucky I’ve actually lived long enough to have stumbled upon some Primitives in my lifetime.”

“You have?” Ruthantasis asked.

“Well, of course! They’ve only been gone for ten years. You’ve lived longer than that, too. Aren’t you around 21?”

Ruthantasis scowled. “I was eleven back then! I wouldn’t have known anything that was going on!”

“Well I was sixty something, so let me talk!”

“Fine!” Ruthantasis proceeded to sulk. He crawled into bed and pulled the covers over him. “If you don’t mind getting off the covers…”

Sydney and Krale were then forced to crawl into bed next to Ruth, with Sydney in the middle and the Foods on both her sides. Everyone stared up at the ceiling.

“You were saying, Krale?” Sydney said, her voice softer now that night had completely overtaken the skies.

“You can control it, child. All the Primitives could. As a matter of how you do that…I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Sydney’s heart sank. Even Krale didn’t know how? These sudden tugs of her blood were the most random things ever. Sydney couldn’t even begin to guess when the next one would happen. How was she supposed to figure all that herself?

“I…” Sydney started to say, just when she heard two soft snores, and looked at the two Foods fast asleep by her side. Sydney sighed and pulled her covers over her shoulders. How was she going to do this herself? She didn’t want any of this. She didn’t want to ever feel that blood tugging sensation again.

Then again…Sydney thought to herself, Talking Food is kind of cool. She never would’ve imagined such creatures existed before today, and no matter how weird they were, Sydney didn’t mind them. Ruthantasis sure was something, but Sydney couldn’t help but think there was something more to him. She couldn’t help but feel like she wanted to help him, even if she didn’t know what she would help him with. And Krale…he reminded her a little bit of the bitter old grandads from some movies. They all turned out like that because they didn’t like the life they had led before, and maybe that’s how Krale feels?

Stop, she told herself. Life isn’t a movie. They aren’t fictional characters. Sydney’s eyelids started to feel heavy, and she nestled her head into her pillow. But, maybe fictional characters aren’t so different from us, afterall, she thought. And maybe I wouldn’t mind becoming friends with a talking sandwich and a salad bowl. Sydney chuckled to herself. If they weren’t fighting 24/7 like they are now, Sydney thought they were pretty much just as human as she was. Or, wait, Primitive, or whatever. Sydney still couldn’t wrap her head around that fact. She would have to send them back sooner or later, and Sydney was already dreading to say goodbye. Except, she wasn’t going to miss the fact that they could devour the whole world’s supply of sugar cubes in less than an hour. Sydney should tell Ruth to tone down with all that eating tomorrow---it couldn’t possibly be good for his health.

Gently, Sydney’s head bobbed and her eyelids fluttered shut. The soft wind blowing from the air conditioner tickled her hair, which was still braided into two pigtails. Sydney didn’t even have time to yawn as she sank into the realm of sleep, as peaceful as a lullaby.

Still, a voice in the back of her mind echoed around her. It taunted her, switching from language to language, gender to gender, species to species. Somehow, Sydney could understand everything the voice was saying all too well, and she could not do anything to shun herself from those same words that repeated in her head over and over again like Death’s drum.

Prepare yourself for eternal suffering, Sydney Cohen, my naughty little thief…Prepare yourself….

Author's Note

written: Dec 2024