Aurora

“The sun shines on the fields,

And crops grow in its heat.”

I stopped walking, and smiled in the early sunlight. I had wondered if I might find her here.

“Aurora.”

I whispered her name softly. I found myself wondering how much she had changed in five years.

I told myself that I had left of my own accord, on her seventh birthday. But in truth, I felt I no longer belonged there. The rest of her family had grown colder than ever toward me, and for some time I had been detecting rejection in even Aurora’s pretty eyes. So therefore, on the night of her seventh birthday, I quietly took off down the dusty road.

And up that same road I was travelling now. I felt that, somehow, she needed me; that the clock was ticking, and I didn’t have many more moments to spend with her. So I decided to come back, to see if we could still share the same connection, before we ran out of time.

I stepped off the road now, crunching my way through the thick scrub and bending down to pass through the old hole in the fence.

And there she was. Aurora Summers. As pretty as ever.

My goodness. I had been away far too long.

“The sun shines on the fields,

And crops grow in its he-eat.

As he walks down the ro-oad.”

She was singing again. That song, those strange three verses, over and over. Nobody knew where or how she had learned it; in fact she had probably been born with the words inside her head.

Aurora looked up now, and her eyes dilated in pleasure. “Hello,” she spoke, and I smiled, asking her how she was. I received neither smile nor answer in return, and looking closer I discovered traces of tears on the girl’s cheeks. I reached out to wipe them clean, but I then remembered how Aurora liked her personal space, so I withdrew my hand. Aurora sniffled, and resumed her singing.

“Been ’way too long to see, her grow.

He laughs and play-ays, all day-ay.

But all too soon the night appears.”

Trying to cheer her up, I picked Aurora some wild blossoms to tie in her hair. Some time passed, and she was laughing again, like she used to. I had always been able to make her laugh. We had yellow corn for lunch, plucked from one of the many such fields her family owned. The juice slid easily down my throat, and the skin of the kernels became stuck in my teeth. I saw Aurora smile, and I could see she was in the same predicament.

“Walking through the field, after her…”

She insisted on singing. Her mother complained that it wasn’t good for her; however, I had always believed the opposite, and so I let Aurora sing to her heart’s content. Although I never got her to explain why she always sang the same three verses. Never had I heard her sing anything else.

“He’s too blind to see,

And deaf to hear…”

The sun was lower now. Aurora beckoned me, asking me silently to escort her home. I grinned and jogged slowly on behind her.

“The night veiling…her face.”

Her orange hair billowed out as she skipped in the light of the sunset. The purple flowers in her tresses appeared like miniature rainbows when the light caught them. Aurora paused momentarily to pick something up and slung it over her shoulder.

This puzzled me, for upon closer inspection it appeared to be a hunting bow. Aurora had never been a physical person, more often than not shirking her duties on the farm and spending that time with myself. Nevertheless, there before my eyes was a real bow! I opened my mouth to ask about it, when she began to sing again.

“The target looks over, green fields,

And cries at its, existence.

As the archer be-hends down.”

I was flummoxed. I had never heard this verse before! The tune was the same she had been singing forever, albeit a little slower than normal. Her voice sounded forlorn, almost miserable. I caught up to her to ask her about the new verse, but she spoke first.

“I’ve been singing the same verses over and over, because it wasn’t yet time for the rest of the song.”

“And, that time is now?” I asked her. She halted, and looked at me with her big blue eyes. Sometimes I swear she could see right through me.

“Tick, tock,” she said, and bounced away.

“Hold on!” I cried, catching up to her again. “Tick tock what? Why did you say that?”

She skipped on as she answered. “Time is nearly gone.”

I inquired further, but she ignored me and started singing again.

“Her breath inva-ades, the co-old.

Her light breaks through, the ni-ight.

And cold will ki-ill…the war-arm.”

Suddenly, she stopped still, head cocked. I heard it too.

Her mother’s cello.

Aurora’s mother always played the cello when she was upset. The sounds emanating from the attic window of the Summers house were quick and screechy; very unlike any way Mrs Summers had ever played before. The large number of hired men about the place, and also Aurora’s small half-sob that she let loose when she saw her little garden, further heightened the feeling of general distress that lay over the whole little vale. Before this morning I had never seen tears on my little Aurora’s face. Something was definitely wrong.

“Can you take me to see your parents, please?” I asked my little companion. “I need to speak with them.” She nodded in silence and lead me by the hand into the house.

“Been ’way too long to see, her grow.

He laughs and pla-ays, all da-ay.

But all too soon the night appears.”

“Aurora? Is that you?”

“Thomas is here, Stella!” the redhead called happily.

“Oh no, Rora,” Stella groaned, sticking her head out the door. “Why did you have to bring him back?”

I said nothing. I was used to this attitude from my little friend’s family. Aurora asked, “Where’s Daddy?”

Mr Summers came down the stairs at that moment, wiping his tired face with the old red handkerchief he always wore around his neck. His tired eyes lit up when he spied his daughter, and he gathered her into his arms.

“Where have you been, Aurora? I haven’t seen you all day, sweetie.”

“I was out playing with Thomas,” she answered, and pointed to where I was standing.

Her father sighed. “Well, Thomas, I appreciate you being here, but now is a really bad time. The Rangers have been threatening to attack the farm all week, and even with the hired men we don’t stand much of a chance against them.”

“I’ll help you,” I declared. “I can shoot a gun.”

“Thomas will help us,” Aurora echoed, looking at me gravely.

Her father shook his head and sighed. “Honey, listen…”

An explosion interrupted the talking. Glass shattered and mud splatted the side of the house as shouting came from outside. Aurora’s father yelled up the stairs for his wife and rushed downstairs, followed by his two daughters and myself.

“Stella, Aurora, stay inside! You hear me?” Stella nodded, but I knew Aurora would not obey. She was singing again. I could barely make out the words above the battle sounds that were coming from the other side of the door.

“The target looks over, green fields,

And cries at its, existence.

As the archer be-hends down.”

The ground shook again, and more sounds came from outside, drowning out the frantic shouting: drums. Drums beating steadily. One-two-three-four-five; one. One-two-three-four-five; one. It was the Rangers. Nobody who fought them came out on top, barely a few even survived any of their raids. The Summers farm was well defended; Mr Summers had made sure of it when he bought it, and had added on to its defence over the years, but nothing stood in the way of the Rangers.

“Her breath inva-ades, the co-old…”

I looked at Aurora singing, as pretty as ever, despite the death and destruction that was threatening the vale. She had been right before, I realised, about the ticking clock. For I knew there was nothing much we could do against the Rangers. Aurora and I had only a few precious moments left together.

And I knew I was going to protect her until my last breath.

“…And the cold will kill…the warm.”

As soon as Aurora handed me a gun, things started to go hazy. One minute, we were inside; the next, we were crouching in the mud, Aurora and I, there together. As we always had been. I couldn’t remember a time when I did not know her.

She was singing again, a new verse this time.

“The red corn never saw again;

The eyes that watched were soaked…”

Time slowed, and I felt a cold bullet pass through my shoulder. I swivelled around and shot at him. Three bullets, each of which should have been fatal.

But they were not. The Ranger paused, probably from confusion, and aimed his rifle at Aurora, but one of the hired men finished him off before he could pull the trigger. I turned back to Aurora.

“My gun…it’s not working! It’s useless!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll try my bow and arrows.”

And try she did. Using her weapon, Aurora took out five Rangers, singing softly all the while. Her father, crouching in a hole, spied us hiding behind a shed, and called out for his daughter.

“And cold will ki-ill…the warm,” she sang as she looked at her father. He called her name again, and she stood up, starting to run towards him. I heard a squelch from behind me, and began to turn around…

A shot rang out, loud and clear…

I watched Aurora fall to the ground…

And everything burst into light.

It was a piercing bright light, like the harsh orange of an early dawn. It emanated from where Aurora fell. A reddened corn cob hit the toe of my boot as I fell over backwards, shielding my face like all the other people nearby, Rangers and farmers alike. Cries of pain and fear now dominated the battlefield, but I discovered the light did not hurt my eyes.

“Her light breaks through…the ni-ight…”

I followed her voice, crawling through the dirt, as the drums ceased. One moment more… then the brightness faded away, and I could see my Aurora.

Lifeless.

At least, she appeared to be. I could still hear her voice, singing that same tune, but it seemed I was the only one. Mr Summers was cradling his daughter’s body, Mrs Summers was crying brokenly over her cello strings, and even stoic Stella was weeping. They did not even listen to me when I tried to explain that Aurora was not dead, that I could still hear her; not even a single glance did they spare me.

Thoroughly frustrated, I stomped into a bathroom to wash myself. Aurora’s voice still rang in my ears, the unknown meaning of her words haunting me.

“The red corn never saw again;

The eyes that watched were soaked.

Save for the one who still can hear.

The one they all…forget.”

Hang on. Was she singing about me? I cocked my head, listening for more.

“Time is gone.

Now look ahead…”

And I did. I looked ahead of me, into the mirror.

There was nothing there.

My…goodness. There was nobody there. Was I even real?

I swallowed as I recognised the truth. No wonder I could not remember a time without Aurora; no wonder I could not recall those five years apart from her; no wonder her family had never paid the slightest attention to me. And that would explain why I could still hear her after her death.

I was not real. And, like Aurora…my time was up.

“Time is gone.

Now look ahead.

The clock has stopped…

Goodbye, my friend.”