by Amy Neftzger
“Are you AB positive?” The voice had a deep, husky quality about it. It was difficult to tell if it was a man or a woman speaking, but Kelsey had the impression it was a woman. A large woman. She sat up and looked at Silence’s face, wondering if somehow the voice belonged to him. He shook his head and shrugged to indicate he didn’t know who it was. They both glanced around the area near them, peering into the shadowy forest.
“What was that?” Kelsey asked aloud in a confused tone. She continued to study the forest, trying to find the voice’s origin.
“Your blood type,” the voice repeated from among the shadows, “are you AB positive?” As the voice moved closer, Kelsey became more certain that it belonged to a woman. What kind of woman, Kelsey wasn’t sure that she really wanted to find out. She quickly glanced around for a potential escape route.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. Two glowing blue eyes were moving toward them in the darkness.
“I’m only asking because that’s my favorite blood type.” The voice belonged to an overly large, white leopard as it stepped into view. “It’s a little spicy and packs a punch. I don’t mean to put the other blood types down, but AB positive just has that something extra. You know what I mean? I can smell it in you or your friend. One of you smells absolutely delicious,” the leopard announced with relish as she licked her lips and moved forward. It was the biggest leopard Kelsey had ever seen.
Chapter Seven
Prelude to a Miracle
For three weeks Nicholas and his friends had been wondering about the orphanage and even whether the miracles in the garden were real. They’d had numerous discussions while they were pretending to work and the only thing they knew for certain is that they didn’t know how to tell if a miracle was authentic or not.
It was very mysterious. Even Taro had been distant with them, which they found odd for someone who was supposed to be mentoring them. They didn’t understand why the orphanage would be so secretive about how to make a miracle if the miracles were real, but they also didn’t know why anyone would go through so much trouble to pretend they were making miracles. On the positive side, they were getting very good at pretending to work and looking busy. They really didn’t know what they were doing and all they had produced were messes, but it didn’t seem to matter. After doing some research on metals in the library, they had figured out which ones ignited and produced a small flash of light. A few times, this technique had momentarily fooled the kids at the other lab tables into thinking that something extraordinary had happened. After they left for the day, Nicholas and his friends would laugh together about the reaction of the other kids from these small, controlled explosions.
“Did you see Junko’s face when the sparks went up?” Maggie giggled in satisfaction as they sat in the dining room waiting for dinner to be served. “She was so jealous, it was making her mad. I thought she was going to scream.” Nicholas laughed and then leaned back in his chair as he continued to smile. Jovan rested his chin in his hand as his elbow leaned on the smooth surface of the wooden dining room table. They had become good friends over the last few weeks, and for the first time in years, Nicholas was beginning to feel as if he had a family. It was a feeling that Nicholas had forgotten about until he began to experience it again. Along with this feeling came flashes of memory that were so short, he couldn’t identify them, although once he was sure he saw a woman’s face. She had hazel eyes and wavy dark blond hair just like his.
As they waited for dinner, the children sat quietly, listening to the muffled sound of the singing fireflies. The noise was barely perceptible, but when Nicholas and his friends sat still, they could hear it through the nearby window. There must have been thousands singing together in harmony. As they stared out the window, they could see the bugs flying in different formations and lighting up in beautiful, synchronized patterns with the song. It looked like a choreographed insect marching choir performing at the halftime show of an enchanted sporting event. The tone of the singing was fluid and lyrical, and the movements matched.
“What do you suppose they’re singing about?” Maggie wondered.
“Different things,” Nicholas responded. “The song is always different. At least I don’t think that I’ve ever heard the same song twice, but I can’t understand the lyrics. It sounds a bit like they’re humming, but I think it’s a language to those who can understand it.”
“I’d love to see one up close,” Maggie said dreamily as she watched the glowing pattern swirl from a deep blue circle into a burst of scattering color and then re-form as a yellow pinwheel. “Have either of you?”
“There’s one that comes up to my window and sometimes sleeps there at night,” Nicholas remarked.
“I wish one would come near me,” said Maggie. “Things don’t fly in my window. I think they avoid me.”
“They must be very intelligent,” Jovan remarked offhandedly.
“I don’t know about the intelligence of fireflies, but they do snore loudly,” Nicholas said. “At least, the one that comes to my window snores. She’s kept me awake at night a few times.”
“I would love to meet her,” Maggie said with an excited smile.
“How do you know it’s a female? Because it snores?” Jovan asked in a playful, yet sarcastic tone.
“Because it’s brave enough to leave the forest,” Maggie snapped back, glaring at him.
Just then Taro entered the dining room. All three of the children sat upright and watched him attentively. Since their last dinner conversation with him, they had been hoping he would dine with them again so that they could ask a few more questions. He seemed so very approachable the last time, and the trio were hungry for answers. For a start, they wanted to find out if he knew anything about the authenticity of the miracles in the orphanage. All of their conversations with him over the previous weeks had been short, and Nicholas had gotten the impression that Taro was avoiding them.
It took several minutes before Taro made his way to their table. He took a very long route and stopped at seven or eight other tables along the way to talk with other apprentices, mostly asking about the statuses of their plants. Nicholas wondered if Taro had been purposefully avoiding them. If this was true, it could be because Taro thought they weren’t performing up to expectations in the lab. Nicholas really didn’t want to be reassigned and have to go through another uniform fitting session, with Mr. Portnoy telling everyone that the clothes make the man. Nicholas hoped that Taro had simply been very busy for the last three weeks or that there was another explanation.
“Good evening,” Taro said politely when he reached them.
“Hello, Taro,” Jovan replied cordially as he stood up to greet him. “It’s good to see you tonight.” Jovan was being a little too polite, thought Nicholas.
“Oh, please don’t get up,” Taro insisted. “How are your plants doing?” he asked in his usual detached, polite tone after he had motioned for them to sit down.
“Alive and well,” Jovan snapped immediately.
“Still growing,” Nicholas replied without thinking.
“Alive,” Maggie responded with a small hesitation.
“So the sad story worked?” Taro asked hopefully.
“What?” Maggie asked in a confused tone. “Oh, yes. Yes, it worked. It worked very well.”
“And how are things in the lab?” Taro asked. Nicholas noticed the very distant manner in which Taro addressed them. It was the way Taro usually spoke to his apprentices, so perhaps they weren’t on Taro’s mind at all. Nicholas decided he had been reading too much into Taro’s lack of contact with them, and he felt relieved.
“Working hard,” Nicholas replied with a smile. “We’re trying new things and constantly experimenting.”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” Taro nodded with satisfaction. “You seem to be getting along well there.” If Taro was getting a favorable report, then they certainly weren’t in trouble. Nicholas tried hard not to smile, but the news had made him very
glad.
“Will you be joining us for dinner?” Jovan asked, hoping that they would have the opportunity to ask Taro more questions. He saw Taro hesitate and was afraid that Taro was purposefully trying to distance himself from them.
“Not tonight,” Taro replied after a momentary pause.
“When?” Maggie asked in a disappointed tone. She was never one to be subtle.
“What she means,” Nicholas interrupted, “is that we really enjoyed talking with you the last time that we had dinner together.” He watched Taro’s expression, but there was no sign of encouragement, which made him wonder if they had somehow displeased him. Taro didn’t look offended, but then his face always seemed polite but expressionless.
“I will join you when the time is right,” he assured them. “Good night,” he said abruptly as he turned away. As soon as he was out of listening range, Maggie leaned forward.
“He doesn’t usually eat with the apprentices, so we shouldn’t feel rejected. But I still do,” she said.
“Taro eats his meals with the mentors and the guardians,” Jovan replied. “Maybe he got into trouble for eating with us that time. You know how they don’t seem to like giving us information or helping us.”
“Maybe,” Nicholas agreed. “But there’s too much we don’t know.”
“Like how to tell a real miracle from a fake one,” Maggie sulked as she spoke. “Sometimes I think they keep us here working on something that we can never achieve just to keep us busy.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Nicholas replied. “Why would they do that? It seems like a waste. There must be a reason they have us doing these things.”
“I’m with Maggie,” Jovan retorted. “If the miracles in the garden are fake, it makes sense to keep us busy so that it looks like we’re creating miracles. Everything has the appearance that we’re fulfilling the king’s orders when it’s all a scam.”
The things they were saying might be true, but Nicholas hoped they weren’t. That couldn’t possibly be true. If the miracles in the orphanage were fake, there was little hope for miracles in the rest of the world and little hope that the king could win the war. The king was depending upon the miracles. It also occurred to Nicholas that if a place where miracles were supposed to exist didn’t really have one, then it was very possible there were no miracles at all - anywhere.
“But they might be real,” Nicholas insisted. “We just don’t know. After all, no one had ever heard of a singing firefly before we came here. But they exist and they’re beautiful.”
***
The next morning, Maggie was very distracted and missed breakfast. Now she was running late for the lab because she had put on four socks and none of them matched. She didn’t even notice that she had two socks on each foot. She tripped several times as she walked in formation with the other children through the hallways. Her lab coat was hanging off of one shoulder because she forgot to put it on completely when she got dressed. As she passed by the tailoring department, Mr. Portnoy stopped her. He gently but firmly pulled the coat onto her shoulders and buttoned the front as he spoke.
“Clothes make the woman,” he recited and then added with an encouraging smile, “You can’t create a miracle if you don’t look like you can create one!” She nodded silently and rushed back into the crowd of children who were walking perfectly in step. She continued to trip as she made her way to the lab, still appearing distracted and despondent. The other children shoved her whenever she got in their way, and this made it difficult for her to focus properly on where she was going. No one wanted to be seen out of step, and so the other children didn’t want Maggie near them as they walked. If she was stumbling, it could make them all look bad.
“Walk by someone else,” one child hissed after Maggie had bumped into him. “You’re too clumsy.” She was in the middle of a crowd of people, and she felt very alone. The sound of so many feet stamping on the stone floors in unison made her feel isolated, even though her feet were also among those making the noise. She felt more alone when the other children shoved her, and no matter what she did, she could not concentrate on walking properly. She was too upset to do anything. Somehow she reached the lab and pushed open the door with a frustrated grunt. As soon as she saw her friends she began to cry quietly.
“What’s the matter?” Nicholas asked sympathetically as he turned Maggie’s back to the other children. If they saw her crying, they might tease her and make her feel worse. She already looked like she was having a bad day.
When Maggie stopped crying, she mouthed a few words that Nicholas couldn’t make out. He didn’t know what could be causing such an extreme reaction, but he would never find out if she didn't speak. She was often prone to extreme emotional reactions, but he had never seen her upset this way.
“Perhaps a beaker muffin would help?” Jovan suggested helpfully. “You missed breakfast and might need something to restore your energy.” He didn’t really understand Maggie’s emotions and tried to solve every problem with a logical solution.
Maggie shook her head and tried to breathe. It was difficult for her to do even the simplest things.
“Let’s take a few deep breaths together,” Nicholas suggested as he saw her struggling for breath. “One, two, three ... ” They inhaled simultaneously as Nicholas motioned to encourage Jovan’s participation. They exhaled together as Nicholas directed them. He slowly raised his palms upwards as they were inhaling and then turned them over and gradually lowered his hands as they exhaled. Nicholas knew they looked silly, but the exercise appeared to be working.
“Can you talk now?” Jovan asked Maggie quietly. She nodded and then took another breath before speaking.
“It’s my plant,” she said, started to cry again. “I think it’s dead!”
Jovan looked at Nicholas with horror in his eyes as he immediately thought about the consequences. If her plant was dead, it was only a matter of time before Maggie disappeared from the orphanage and he lost a friend. She was a good friend, too.
“Are you sure it’s completely dead?” Jovan asked in a soothing tone to hide his concern. “Is it possible that it’s only nearly dead or still in the dying process?” Maggie’s expression turned angry.
“How should I know about the stages of death in a plant? I don’t know anything about death, and I know even less about plants!” she seethed through her clenched teeth.
“Don’t argue,” Nicholas ordered both of them. “It won’t help the situation. In fact, talking won’t help, either. Let’s all go and look at the plant to see if we can do something.”
“I think I should stay here in the lab and cover for you in case anyone asks where you’ve gone,” Jovan replied. “Besides, Nicholas, you’re better with plants. I think you’ll be able to tell if it’s dead or if it can be saved.”
Nicholas agreed and went with Maggie to her room. He took her hand and held it to keep her in step with the other children as they walked in formation. When she did stumble, it was easy for him to quickly steady her before anyone noticed. Maggie didn’t seem to be aware that Nicholas was holding her hand as she stared absentmindedly into space. She felt numb, distracted and unaware of where she was.
The walk across the orphanage seemed to take forever. Nicholas looked up at the signs above the doorways as they passed underneath them. The signs diverted his attention and kept him from dwelling on thoughts of Maggie’s plant and worrying too much without knowing the true status of the situation.
He noticed that some of the signs were the same as others within the building. “Caritas” was a sign that he remembered seeing in more places than any other. Nicholas knew that precious gems were measured in carats, and so he thought that caritas might be a way of measuring the potency or magnitude of miracles. It could easily have been an ancient term because the orphanage was very old. Maybe if they knew what caritas was, they would know how to test a miracle to see if it was real.
Nicholas didn’t dare speak his thoughts out loud, mostly because Ma
ggie was too distracted by her plant’s condition. Talking in the hallways was against the rules, anyway. He couldn’t afford to break any regulations while he was away from his job. He had never known of someone to leave their job without permission from their mentor or supervisor. The lab rules mentioned the work hours, but didn’t state what would happen if anyone assigned there was not in his or her assigned place during work hours. It was a gray area, and for some reason, it always felt better when things like rules were black and white. Maybe the guardians interpreted the grey areas as not truly being white and therefore were black by default. In any event, Nicholas thought it was best not to be seen or draw any attention. So they blended in with the other children in the hallways and made it safely to Maggie’s room.
Nicholas rushed over to the plant and studied it carefully. The plant was drooping over the edge of the pot as if it had fainted and gone limp from a fright. It appeared lifeless, but it wasn’t dead. It was nearly dead, though. If the air above the plant was life and the soil death, Nicholas could safely say that the plant had abandoned life and was hugging death. Healthy plants always reached upwards into the sky like they wanted to climb to the sun. They didn’t collapse on the ground.
Nicholas silently scolded himself for not checking on Maggie’s plant sooner. It was three weeks ago that Maggie first mentioned her plant didn’t look well. He had three whole weeks to see if he could have helped if only he had asked Maggie how her plant was doing, but the question sounded superficial because of all the times that Taro had asked it. But he wasn’t Taro, and he wouldn’t have expected Maggie to solve her own problem. At the very least, he might have been able to give Maggie advice on how to care for it. However, Nicholas could see that now was not the time to dwell on past mistakes. If he and Maggie were to stay together as friends, then he had to do something bold. He already knew what should be done.
