Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Sibyll Trelawney
Genres:
Character Sketch General
Era:
1944-1970
Stats:
Published: 09/30/2008
Updated: 09/30/2008
Words: 834
Chapters: 1
Hits: 223

Clouds

Ravenpuff

Story Summary:
On her sixth birthday, a young Seer learns that some gifts come with too high a price.

Chapter 01

Posted:
09/30/2008
Hits:
213


Clouds

From out here under the beech tree, the house looks far away and soft around the edges too, like a big marshmallow. She settles herself on the swing and pushes off with her new patent leather slippers, not thinking about the scuffs. She's learned that after the first push, she can keep her feet tucked under and just move a little back and forth for the swing to take the sky like a bird.

She is a bluebird today in her pretty new dress, which is exactly the color of the sky, and how she can fly! "Swing and sway, I'm six today!" she chants in time to the creaking of the ropes as the swing rises high, high into the air and swoops down again, making her tummy squirm deliciously.

She leans way back, letting her long, cornsilk hair trail on the ground at the bottom of the arc. Mummy might be mad if she comes home with dirt in her hair, but she doesn't care. She has to lean way back to see the whole sky. Today there are clouds in it, white blobs that barely stand out against the blue. No gray ones, so it won't rain today.

Mummy said something about "glasses," but she didn't want to think about that now. "You'll see more clearly," Mummy said, but she likes the way the world looks, with its colors blending in together, all soft and pretty.

Mummy hasn't guessed how sharp her mind-pictures are. She saw the Valentine Lewellyn was going to give her before he handed to her, blushing, pictured the red and pink hearts and and gold lace and the ribbons and the words, too. She is his Valentine.

Up and down she flies, head back, hair sweeping over the grass. She knows what her birthday present--the big one--was going to be, too. She saw Daddy putting up the Maypole, its bright ribbons fluttering in the breeze. It isn't there yet, but it will be. The thought makes her giggle. But where are the dancers? She hasn't seen them.

She tells the swing to go higher and it does and she leans back farther, peering up into the perfect sky. Pretty soon Mummy will call her and she will go inside and there will be her party, all ready: strawberry ice cream and vanilla cake with six pink candles. Mummy and Daddy will be there, and all her aunts and uncles and cousins, gathered around to watch her make a wish and blow out the candles.

What will she wish for? She knows, but she won't tell, because if she does, it won't come true.

Go higher, she orders the swing, and it does. She is almost upside down now, so she can see the ground rush by and then the sky again, and then it happens.

Sharp as the knife she issn't allowed to touch, she sees Uncle Jerry. He is climbing a ladder up to his roof and then the ladder is tipping, just a little at first and then a lot and Uncle Jerry is falling to the ground and does not move. His arms and legs go every which way and he lies still as the big rock he hit his head on.

She screams and lets go and then she too lies still, like a discarded doll.

ooOoo

Her head hurts, and her arm, too, and people are whispering all around. She is lying on the sofa, not her bed.

She opens her eyes, and Mummy's face swims into sight. Mummy's eyes are red and swollen and her hair looks all messy.

"Are you sad, Mummy?" she says.

Mummy tries to smile, but the corners of her mouth go up only a little bit. She does not answer the question.

"You fell, sweetie," she says, but you'll be all right soon. The Healer's here."

She tries to nod, but that makes her head hurt more. "Okay, Mummy."

She knows it's true. She will get better, but Uncle Jerry won't. Uncle Jerry is supposed to be at her party, but how can he be there if . . . ?

There isn't not going to be a party, is there? No singing, no wishing, no candles to blow out--no Uncle Jerry, pulling Sickles out of his ear and lifting her up so she can leave a smear of pink icing on the ceiling. It's their little joke.

It's all her fault. When she sees things, they come true. If only she hadn't seen Uncle Jerry fall from the ladder, he would be here and everything would be fine.

"Mummy?" she says, her voice sounding quivery to her ears.

"What, Sibyll, darling?" Mummy should be mad at her, but she doesn't look mad, just sad.

"When can I get my glasses?" Somehow, Sibyll knows that as soon as the world's soft edges come into sharp focus, her visions will stop. And more than anything else in the world, she wants them to stop.

THE END