“They melted again!"
“Danny!” I snapped. “Stay away from that grill! You’re
going to burn yourself!”
I crossed the twelve feet separating me from my son and grabbed his little
sticky hand a little harder than I meant to. “Stay in your sandbox orgoinside
until supper’s ready.”
“But my leggos melted!”
“I told you they would! Stay out of trouble.”
You’d think that a three foot tall underdeveloped munchkin would be a lot easier to control than this. Six years old. I could just imagine what he’d be like when he was a teenager. I didn’t even want to know what he’d be melting then. My son toddled off to his sandbox, muttering something dark beneath his baby blue eyes and angelic red curls. I went over to the grill and flipped our Veggie Delite burgers.
“Goin’ inside.”
I turned to make sure he was, and saw the screen door on our porch thwap shut. I shook my head. Kids are really impossible.You try to do your best, cook for them, play with them, read to them, keep them from setting their hair and clothes on fire, but all they really want is a blow torch and some combustibles. Since not many families with small children have those things just laying about, the little squirts settle for charcoal grills and leggos. No wonder guy movies with no plot and many explosions sell so well.
“Don’t forget the scantily clad women. But, I suppose Danny’s not into that stuff yet, eh?”
I whirled around and waved my spatula in the air like it was the latest Bond invention. “Who said that?”
My yard, the neighbor’s yards, and the street were all empty. No real trees in sight. Either the kid finally got to me or I’d breathed in too much citronella smoke.
“None of the above.”
It was said with distinctive amusement from the sandbox .“Danny?”
Did the punks next door set him up to this? Was he possessed?
“I’ll take you away.” A spark of movement.
“Away where?” Where did that come from? I was supposed to ask ‘whoareyou?’ first.
“Do you really need to know?”
“Where are you?” I was now in the sandbox, spinning around and looking at the ground, searching for whatever had just propositioned me. I was earning some looks from Mrs. Johnson next door, I was sure. The busybody had no life of her own and thus watched those of her neighbors.The little red plastic bucket jiggled.
“In here.” Feeling ridiculous, I bent down and peered inside, butt to the sun.
“Reach inside,” it said.I did so. A sharp pain on my index finger was the last thing I knew.
“You drugged me!” The realization popped out of my mouth before my eyes were even open.
“I bit you.” I swatted at the thing darting around my head a couple times before realizing it had spoken.
“My bad. I thought you were a bug.” I looked around. Trees colored with flowers and sparkling stone paths were spread before me. A faint trickling of water came from somewhere to my left. Beautiful little animals with coats of more colors than the rainbow were frolicking in and out of the vibrant green plant life that surrounded us.The ground was mottled with shifting golden patches from the sun, and in the distance birds were singing. It’s too bad I didn’t like nature.
“Where are we, who are you, and where’s my son?”
“You don’t want to know where your son is.” It was said mockingly,and struck an unpleasant bell of truth. “Does it matter who I am and whereyouare?”
“I do too want to know where Danny is!” I snapped. I was a good mother,and I loved my son. “And I do want to know who you are and where I am!”
The sprite sighed. “Conscience is a terrible thing. Does it matter,as long as you’re away from it all?” It clucked a tongue that I was sure was forked. “Do not trouble yourself, mortal. He’s safe.” It caught myintakeof breath. “And he will remain so.” A blink, and the thing was gone.“I faded.” It chuckled from behind me. “Try it.”
“What, to disappear?” An expressive shrug with a calculating smile told me enough. “I like it where I am.” It shrugged again, tiny wings dipping with the motion.
“In otherwords, it is where you want to be.” Away from motherhood. Away from Earth. I suppose it didn’t matter where I was after all. “You are in Limbo.” The creature said. “Limbo.” “Limbo. Nothingness.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”
“Something must always be created from nothing.”
“Does it?” My head was spinning.The imp grabbed a flowery leaf. It melted in his outstretched hand, turning formless and colorless. “Those that are can never touch what isn’t.”
“But I’m touching the ground.”
“You aren’t.” I thought he meant I wasn’t for a moment but looking down realized he merely referred to the action of sitting. I hovered several inches above the ground.
“How...?”
“All things can be where nothing is.”
“Will you stop that?” It smiled, drawing pointed lips over pointed teeth. I decided I was tired of it. I grabbed hold of a branch in order to help myself up. It disintegrated and I would’ve fallen on my arse except for space between me and the floor. “Does nothing in this damn place exist?!”
“Nothing does exist here. If you want to find things that are, go to Earth.”
“Then take me there. Danny’s probably crying by now.”
“No. I already gave you what you wanted.”
“Did you.” I reached into my pocket for something to chuck at it. My fingers closed around something soft and lumpy. I pulled it out. It was my son’s leather pouch. He had given it to me for my birthday, with a hug and a wet kiss. A tug in my chest told me that no matter how tired I became, I had a calling and a place that I belonged.
“What’s that?” It looked at me through lidded eyes.
My mouth quirked. “Something.”
“I’ll take you to Earth,” it was said sweetly, cajolingly.
“What, for this?” I held up the small brown sack, tilting my head to the side in question. It was filled with plastic and dirt, leggos and gravel mixing together to form what my son liked to call ‘Mystery Soup Mix’.
“Give me some guarantee that you won’t take my pouch and fade."
The sprite tilted its head in return, tiny wings working overtime to keep it afloat.
“I granted one of your wishes. I’ll grant this one as well.” I weighed the pouch in my hand. Gift or no, it was junk.
“Done.” I had barely tossed over the pouch when I flipped. I landed in the sandbox, the sprite alongside of me. The first person out of the house was my son. The second was his mother.