Faded Away

BB left the forest and walked among strangers for the first time. He knew Mab had other houses in the forest; that the one they had lived in most recently was not the one she lived in when she found him. He had no idea where the other houses were. He had no idea how to find her so he left the forest hoping for an answer to the question of why she left him by looking among the people of the world. At first, he found the presence of others upset him, reminding him of what he had lost, the days of his childhood with Mab.

Sitting alone in a village square, he had a sense that she was still with him, still watching him, still caring for him. He walked timidly into the community, watching people's reaction to him. He was a strange sight to them, big, strong, young, wild in his dress and his expression. He wore nothing other than a kilt of coarse cloth Mab had taught him to make. Sitting alone by the fountain in the village square, he avoided other's eyes, taking occasional sips of water. He noticed that several women came, noticed him and then turned and left. Eventually one of them, a younger woman, much younger than Mab, came up to the fountain a little way from where he sat, dipping the pot she carried into the water, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She filled the pot and was about to heft it up onto her hip when BB turned to her and asked, "Can I carry that for you?"

She looked at him in amazement and said something he couldn't understand. He smiled crouching down, instinctively trying to diminish his size; he reached out his hands saying again, "Can I carry that for you?" The woman laughed, covering her mouth with her hand and spoke again. Again, he couldn't understand a word she said. He realized he wasn't even sure where one word began and another ended; she just produced a stream of incomprehensible sound. He understood that to her he must sound the same, his words just a stream of incomprehensible sound, so he sang to her, sang the counter melody to a carrying song he used to sing with Mab.

Weep no more, ...
Sorrow calls no time that 's gone:
Violets pluck'd, ... nor grow again.
... look cheerfully;
Fate's hid ... eyes cannot see.
Joys as winged dreams fly fast,
Why should sadness longer last?
...
Gentlest fair, mourn, mourn no more

He sang in the high carrying voice that Mab had taught him; not loud, quietly, so he wouldn't frighten her. His mouth moved slowly when he sang that way, with no clear correspondence between the sound he made and the movement of his lips and his throat. The younger woman watched him, fascinated by the man and the sound he apparently made or, rather, the sound that he conjured into the air, it seemed magical to her, she had never heard anything like it before. She hardly moved as he came to her, taking the heavy pot from her, hefting it as though it weighed nothing at all, holding it with one hand as he stopped singing and indicated that she should lead the way. The younger woman laughed again, covering her mouth with her hand. She shook her head and walked off looking back at him as he followed her across the square.

As they were about to disappear down one of the alleys leading off the square, a couple of men came out of a building and stood a moment, looks of blank disbelief on their faces. One of them shouted something at the woman. She waved a hand angrily at him and continued walking followed by BB. The men followed, still calling out to them. BB had no idea what they were saying but he felt threatened and started watching them as Mab had taught him; taught him how to watch something without looking at it; how to watch something so it wouldn't know it was being watched. BB watched them and they faded away.

He turned his attention back to the younger woman, watching her. Not as a threat, she was no threat to him, she was nervous and he sought to calm her. He watched her and started singing again, the carrying song. Wrapping them both up in the sound, the melody and the counter melody. The counter melody that he made with his voice and the melody that he heard in his mind, that he knew came from Mab. It comforted him, kept him safe and calm; bringing the same sense of safety and tranquility to the woman that led him through the village as he carried her pot.

BB imagined he had been there before. Seen the beginning of a story told in exactly the same way before; a chance meeting, an unknown language, a strange house with strange ways. Then he smiled to himself as he walked reflecting that there were only so many ways a story might start. Every meeting has an element of chance in it. Every statement at its root is mysterious and unknowable, every house is strange and its ways the ways of a stranger. BB walked, following the younger woman, remembering Mab's stories and the things she had taught him.

They came to a house, really more a courtyard than a house. The courtyard was surrounded by five structures connected by high walls. Each of the structures had a door and windows looking into the courtyard. Opposite the gate they entered by was an open air hearth with a chimney built into the wall that rose obliquely up the wall, joining the adjacent structure, merging with a chimney that came out of the roof. There were no straight lines, everything was curved or at an angle. The hearth itself was built under a roof that projected out from the wall. The woman beckoned him over pointing to a huge pot almost as tall as he was. The pot had a wooden lid that she lifted, indicating he should pour the water inside. BB poured the water and put the pot down.

The woman laughed and picked it up, offering it to him with a question on her face. He laughed in return, not knowing why he laughed, but something about the situation clearly amused her and by contagion amused him as well. He took the pot from her and left, retracing his footsteps back to the square. He filled the pot again. Ignored the shouting men and returned to the courtyard. This went on for much of the rest of the afternoon until he had almost filled the huge pot.

The woman stopped him; touching his upper arm. Her touch burned like fire. His whole body felt it and he was helpless as she led him to one side of the courtyard, indicating he should sit down.

The sun by this time was lowering towards the horizon, parts of the courtyard sinking into the shadows, settling into the darkness of the night. BB sat in a dark corner and listened to the sounds of the village at the end of the day as people made their way home, calling out to each other. There was an occasional shout of laughter or burst of shouting as two voices collided in the evening air. BB sat and listened and hardly moved when the courtyard gate opened and a small procession of three men and two women came into the courtyard, the older of the three men leading, two younger men following, the two women, both older than the younger woman, coming in last.

None of them noticed BB, though he had the sense that the women saw him but chose not to comment on his presence. The old man walked over to the huge pot, opening a tap at its base, drawing some water into a bowl. He drank a little then washed his hands and face. He tapped the huge pot and said something to the younger woman. She just laughed and didn't seem to say anything in reply. The old man dried his face with a cloth hanging beside the pot and the other members of the household, including the younger woman, all went through the same ritual; drawing water, drinking, washing themselves, drying themselves. The old man stood by as they did so, touching each of them briefly on the left side of the face, at the point of the jaw, just below the ear. Each of them said something in response and returned the gesture, touching him in the same way. BB sat alone in the dark, unseen, isolated, cut off from the community of the courtyard.

One of the women said something to the younger woman, gesturing towards BB as she did so. The men all turned, looking sharply in BB's direction. He continued to sit quietly, not moving at all, while the younger woman spoke heatedly at first and then more calmly as there was little or no reaction from the men and a look of real interest from the other two women. The younger woman spoke for some time and the men started getting restless, looking at the pots on the hearth and the platters laid out with greens, fruit and nuts on them. Eventually the old man made a dismissive gesture, it wasn't clear if the gesture was aimed at BB, the younger woman or the courtyard in general but it clearly signaled the end of the conversation for the time being. The two younger men moved over to a platform built into one of the walls between two of the structures where they sat cross-legged, a table placed between them

To follow this thread in the story go to: For the Second Time

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