Lunch
Three years ago
My grandma went away
We sat down for lunch
Yesterday
Memory gone
She couldn't stay at home
Once an elegant
Epitome
Hopeful she found peace
In a mind lost elsewhere
I was surprised by
An old stare
A grin met her eyes
As it had long ago
She asked me to sit
Not to go
We talked for a while
The years melted away
We laughed and she spoke
Clear as day
She was beautiful
A marvelous echo
Of a time ended
Long ago
But she soon grew sad
Beauty foreign and strange
And she paused for one
Last exchange
With a steady hand
She took one of mine and
Asked me to please
Understand
Before she was kind
With unwavering grace
And she was now too
One last trace
And then she was gone
I stood lost and alone
Yet I did not mourn
Lifeless bone
She had found her peace
Her soul was truly free
And she chose with love
To tell me
Muddy poured the last of the tea into Eddie's cup. She used a stained tea towel as a hot pad to avoid burning her hands, even though she wore gloves, for the kitchen was cold despite the wood-burning stove. The drafty cottage did nothing to douse their despair of losing Sissy.
They watched the snow fall outside the kitchen window. They communicated their sadness to each other without using any words. There was something about despair that deprived one of energy to speak.
Muddy carefully took the last of the biscuits from the cupboard above the window and placed them before her dear nephew and son-in-law.
"You must eat, Eddie," she urged. "I cannot lose you, too."
But Eddie didn't budge. It was as if his soul had joined his sweet Virginia in the next world. But here his body sat in his black clothing, neither speaking nor eating nor moving. He was neither alive nor dead, neither in this world nor the next. His soul was stuck in some painful shadowland. Muddy knew his pain. She knew better than to try to speak to him. Words are hollow when one has lost the will to go on.
She put another log on the fire. All she could do for her dear Eddie now was to keep him as comfortable as possible while time healed his broken heart. She cursed the cold as it was not conducive to healing one's broken heart.
When she turned her Eddie was gone from the table. She had not even heard him get up. She had no time go upstairs to check on him, assuming he had retreated to his writing desk when she heard the knock at the front door.
Upon opening it, she was handed a letter from the post informing her that her nephew had died in Baltimore and was buried two days ago. Her legs went numb beneath her. Closing the door against the cold air, she stumbled toward the wooden table where she observed Eddie sitting earlier. Leaning against it, she regained her equilibrium and breathing enough to make her way up the staircase and throw open the door to Edgar's writing desk. The room was vacant, as was every other room in the cold, dreary cottage.
A House on a High, High Road
A dirt road wound down around the moore and up towards the very essence of dismal dreariness. The night was far from young, and the moon hung high. She shone a pale yellow-white, a beacon to her twinkling cousins, reflecting a mood of eternal melancholy. Her song reached the trees, rustling branches, and whistling back at the birds. The road was damp and only lit by the pale light of the sky; it twisted and turned, tree roots burst from the ground, warning all who attempted the visit to turn back, to go far away and never return.
At the end of the road, above the moore sat a lone house, shrouded by unkempt bushes and ivy. The front door was of a peculiar wood, rather unpleasing, as though the wood were either the strongest in the world, or about to crumble at any given moment. The song of the moon did not reach this high, for all was dead and silent but the faint crackling of a slowly dying fire.
The air was cold, yet the wind dared not intrude on this property. In fact, hardly anything dared trespass except for one. A single woman in a white dress walked along the treacherous path, avoiding the tree roots and rocks with ease. She reached the door, robed in snowy white, and she knocked a single eery knock.
Inside the house a man awoke with a start, flask in hand, sitting in a faded arm chair facing the front door. He sprung out of his seat immediately, throwing the flask across the room and stumbling forward. He reached the door, head pressed against it, eyes squeezed shut. With a creak, the door inched open until the two were face to face. He sank to his knees letting out a strangled cry, tears tracing the curves of his nose down a rugged face.
The woman just smiled. She stood there, stoic and stately, eyes drowning in forgotten sorrows.
Slowly he began to rise, weak with shock and disbelief. The woman extended her hands as if she were a dove stretching her wings in an expression of peace, a goddess reaching down from the heavens to drag the unfortunate mortal out of his engulfing misery. The moon shone especially bright on the woman whose beauty and fair skin rivaled that of the heavens themselves. For a moment, the man made no move, it was almost as if he was rejecting her offer, until he interlocked his hand with hers, a familiar motion. With this, all seemed to relax so that the noises of the moore were hardly audible.
Hand in hand the two began to depart the dismal house, toward a grassy patch below the stars. She led him forward like a siren to the sea, face lit and eyes glistening. She danced in front of him, a delicate dancing nymph among the tree until they reached the quiet picnic destination. A silvery-blue blanket lay smooth across the grass, and the picnic basket’s contents were meticulously placed atop.
Releasing the rugged hand, the woman took her place on the blanket and motioned for the man to do the same. With less grace, he took his seat as well. Neither made a motion for food. One faced the moore and the other sat staring at her glowing figure. She turned to face him once more, laid a hand atop his and spoke in a gentle yet warning tone, “My love, Wake up”.
The man blinked once, long and hard and when his eyes opened at last, the woman was no longer in front of him. He glanced down at his hand which still felt the pressure of her grasp. To his great surprise, he found not the blanket below his hand. He saw not the glorious feast that had been in front of him merely a moment prior.
Instead, below his hand was grass covering a hard earth. He raised head slightly, and his eyes grew wide with realization and misery. In front of him sat a gray stone, a headstone.
Scrambling to his feet, the man began to run, run toward the cliff overlooking the moore. He reached the edge, heart caught in his throat and swallowed. Suddenly, the wind had overcome its fear of the property and joined the man on the cliff, whispering in his ear words of poisonous encouragement.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, a familiar, moonlit hand. Yet, in front of him appeared another hand, outstretched in an offering of eternal bliss, relief from misery. Thousands of whispers made the formerly quiet moore excruciatingly loud. Torn in two equally miserable directions, he fell. He fell to knees above the moore and shut his eyes, shut them forever.
The Past defines the Future
H opened the door. standing there in front of him was...
"Yui!"
"Hey dad."
he stood to the side to let her in, she was looking at him a little strangely but H did not take it personally.
"Your mother and i were just about to make our evening tea."
Cee looked out from making the tea in the kitchen and saw Yui.
"My dear, your home, what a surprise I was not expecting you for a while now. you still have another 3 months of service, don't you?"
Yui took her seat across from her father on the small table in the Main room and looked over to both of them.
"I got out earlier to see you guys."
Cee set 3 cups of tea on the table, one was Hers her 4 tablespoon peppermint tea, H's Ghost Pepper Tea, and in front of Yui was her favorite White Birch Tea. she did not take any which caught the attention of H, who looked at her with interest, letting her and Cee talk he just watched her with interest.
"So how long are you going to be home my dear?"
"Not long. I have to go back at noon tomorrow."
H's knew his daughter, and that was a lie. yet he did not speak.
"oh well lets talk and catch up a little shall we my dear."
they spoke for some time about life, love and what's been going on at the western front.
for the first time since arriving her father asked a Question
"You found out didn't you?"
Immediately anger filled the room.
'Well of course i did the doctor even confirmed it, I'm nothing but a lab rat. I'm nothing but a little experiment to you, aren't i Father."
the word father came off with so much venom that it could kill a man.
Cee did not talk but looked at her daughter she moved to calm her but.
"Don't Touch Me. Bitch."
CRACK!
Yui looked over to see part of the table had been separated from the rest it had shattered into splinters with the force of H's hand as it ripped though the wood like it was nothing. When he spoke he was in a monotone voice with no emotion. not like he had any of those to begin with.
"Tell me who I am, how did you come to be?"
She answered in a single word.
"surrogation."
His response was hard.
"NO!"
she got up to yell at him but he stood not to his full height but quicker than she could see he started to talk till the ending was yelling.
"That monster doctor does not know what he speaks of. I AM your father and Cee is your mother there is no doubt about that we are your parents but what the doctor failed to tell you so you would jump to conclusions is one of the hardest things not even he knows and only Cee and another does."
Yui could not take it and looked dead into his eyes and spat back.
"And what is that pray tell?"
"I'm infertile."
Yui froze. infertile how if he was then how did he. wait...
"Calsterisation"
Cee was the one to speak to.
"Yes, we both wanted kids, but with your father being infertile. we needed another way to make children so him and his trust devised this its not a drug it is something more complex. it it what we had to do to make you and your brother come into this world."
Yui sat back down Calsterisation was one of the newest forms of infertile cures for people. It was a combination of several self-made drugs and natural herbs that are used to come up with a solution that when you donate a whole pint of Semen. That is what it takes to make a child. The doctors took and extracted certain compounds in the seman, removing them and placing in this compound. allowing the spouse to create a fertile bond with the male or female if that is what is happening. It's dangerous and only has a 0.03% chance to work but of all the infertile men in the world, 12 out of ever 100,000 are no longer infertile .
"You invented Calsterisation?"
H looked down as now he was sitting now.
"It took over 6 years but yes i was able to make it. So yes, you are our daughter and i am your father."
Yui realized just how much they had to go through in his life for them to get to this point. Though calsterisation is used after age five of the child, the chances of survival goes down by another point. meaning each child there after only has a 0.003% chance of surviving. she and her brother were one of those 0.003%
"I-I'm sorry dad."
"no its ok i can understand your outburst. now its gotten late why don't you go and come back later. hm?"
"ok."
Cee picks up the plates as H moves to the front door. Yui and him stepped outside.
H spoke a minute later.
"Can I hug you please?"
She hesitated, then she hugged his side like he always wanted but soon felt for the first time she felt him cry he pulled her into a deep hug crying and sobbing.
"I will miss you, Baby girl."
She gasped, "How did he know?"
"My guess is we will receive a letter and your belongings in the morning."
she nodded. he gave her one more hug before he wiped his eyes and went in with no emotion left in his eyes.
several things followed.
First the morning came and her belongings and service uniform arrived. bring Cee to her knees.
then all during the funeral H never let go of Dragon and of the casket breaking down. not wanting to let go of his daughter.
after a week
Mexico was wiped from existence. as the gulf of Mexico and north pacific became one.
H was never the same he would never let Dragon out of japan he would always spend every Friday at the cemetery remembering her. and having some white birch tea with her.
the Yui launched in the year 2078 its mission to explore space. on board was a synthetic A.I. system called Yui
pronunciation: Calsterisation (Cal-ster-i-sa-tion)
Tea time
It was a normal day as we sat at out dark round table. The water boiled for the tea as it always did. She sat there smiling but something was on her mind.
"Grandma, what is it?" I ask curiously. "Let us drink our tea" she said as a tear ran down her face. I rushed to her side with a peppermint tea, her favorite type. "Grandma what is it?" I said a little more alarmed. She just smiled and kissed the top of my head. she reached out and took her tea, and I took mine. After she finished, I took her cup to the sink. She whispered an "I love you" as she vanished into the air, but I could still feel her presence, I knew she would always be there. So I keep a cup of peppermint tea on the table next to me every time I drink mine, I know she's drinking hers. A beautiful way to remember my grandma, was the last cup of tea is always warm.
*Tea with my Ghost*
I turn the tiny ear
of the china cup
and saucer upon a
lazy heirloom dolly:
"Thank you,"
"How considerate,"
"Much obliged,"
"Shouldn'ta-"
a splash of bitters
in the invite rings
like an ambered
purification ritual;
I mop the console
and suggest, myself
another go round..?
Chin chin, porcelain,
Do, dearie really--
No, I must insist:
and turn the trolley,
just a single drop
of Life's rust is left
in this old carafe
I'm a-sharing, here in
the drawing room
where the curtains
will be closing
very soon
I know I've had
the better half
of the pairing,
rendering a
contestant
on the rise with
seamy likeness
in the mist, as I--
I fade away into
the darkening
pallor of my
own shadow
01.27.23
Tea With Your host Challenge
@HeartofaWolf