leggings - bad nites
By maisie
- 427 reads
There was a stillness about the air as I jogged towards the park entrance. The day I'd met Kitty came to mind, almost as much moisture in the air then. Today although it was June, it was dry, humid, headachey, vividly dark gray, pre thunderstorm weather. An edge of cold to the air. I wasn't so quick today in going twice around the park. I was feeling my age. I reached the bench for the second time and toweled down. I knew I'd have to walk home.
There was a man on the bench. He was looking at his feet. His face pointed down. I had seen him around. Knew him faintly.
“Hi,” I said brightly. Well one has to keep up appearances, even when one doesn't feel up to it.
He unbent from the serious contemplation of his shoes. “Hi!” his voice acid gray.
“Everything okay?” I asked. I'd heard that some were more likely to consider suicide before talking over a problem. “I mean, you look so downhearted.”
“Yeah!” he said bitterly, “Someone popped around and pinched my wheel trims off the car!”
“How annoying!” I returned politely. I mean it wasn't jaw-dropping, however I could see the effect it had had on him.
“Yeah, I just can't afford new ones.” he said after a pause. “Not at the moment. The wife wants this, the children want them, and I seem not to be able to cover.”
“Have you thought about contacting the Samaritans?” It seemed a much safer option than me.
I had enough with Kitty's. Was it becoming visible, this ability of mine to talk to victims?
“I don't think I'm that bad,” he huffed out, as he got up to leave. He hurried off without a backwards glance, and I knew I'd done it wrong. Bad mark Leggings!
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A shower later I was at the shop, fixing the window display with my little samples as requested by the other two. I essayed out into the street, it was quiet today. So I had a minute in the fresh air to see if the display engaged well.
I was fixing up some stools for the tiny doll sizes clothes to sit on, so that they didn't disappear at floor level
when Kitty arrived for her afternoon session. She'd been to college – and had brought news.
“The judging been done.” she announced soberly, “The marks come out next week. I had a one 2 one interview with the course Director, Leggs, he was a bit dry.” She was ashen. Her fingers shook.
“You must have done well,” I said quickly, “Come on, you always do!” I couldn't bear it, her work was so much more inspired, I mean if she couldn't hack it, who could?
“I passed,” she admitted slowly, “Only they've advised me to go on further... I'm not sure what I want.”
“Great!” I grabbed my coat, and started off towards the door.
“I had another bad night,” she said shakily, “Want a coffee before you go?” It was almost an entreaty. Did I need to listen? The man in the park had shaken me.
“I'm away to have lunch with my man in a minute,” I told her firmly. It was no good, I had to harden up. I needed my own life. “I could come back about 4pm, after I've been to the college for my results etc.”
I had to go, see, and know how I'd done. Even if I'd failed.
“Okay,” she said wearily, “Is Phyllis coming in today?”
“Not that I know of,” I responded calmly. He was at the door peering. I pulled on the coat and bolted towards him, “See you later!”
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At three pm., after a late extended lunch due to my late getaway, and the college results system, I finally made it back to the shop. Phyliss was re-arranging the stock, checking the labels for how long they had been displayed. She turned a tired face to me. '“How did it go?” she asked.
“Better than I expected,” I said quietly, “I wasn't the worst.” I felt that was about all the mention I could give my efforts. “Kitty did really well. They think she could go on to university.”
“Yeah, that upset her so much that she went home ill.” Phyliss said coldly. “What have you planned for later today?”
“Nothing, want me to stay on?” It seemed she was upset.
“My Mum has had some dreadful game played on her at night. She says - a computer type games through her dreams. She's still shaking! I sound like Kitty. I feel as if we ought to be put away.”
I remembered her Mum from my early history, we'd been slightly friendly. It wasn't very easy. The people who'd looked after us, sent us at each other just for fun. To improve our magical skills. We'd all taken witch names – I'd been Circe, she'd been Helen (Of Troy) and we'd talked over stuff then.
“Is she sure about all this?”
“Seems so, she's says I ought to warn you, it might be another minister's daughter. Irritating voice, and has two children with her, or what passes for children when you can't see them.”
“Nightmares, horrors!” I said without thinking, “I know the kind.” She had been a minister's daughter. We had some weird ones. I'd been some weird places. The Ministers would put their children at schools when they were out of the country.
“How bad is the game?”
“Final, she thinks. She had to jump out of the way, she was being pushed into a frying pan. She had to run down a tiny bar dividing two lake areas – in which strange shapes swam. I must sound quite mad saying all this.”
“What other measures can she take to stop it all?”
“I'm not sure, she says her prayers each night. She can hear them up above whispering and then as soon as she's asleep they 'hook' her brain. I wonder if they are even human. She says do you remember the Overdyes?”
'Vaguely, it's been a long time since the magical families came to Britain. The exodus. Creepy couple. They were only kids then. Parents were overdyed back then to stop the others getting at them. The last keepers of me made me do that too."
"yes, she thinks they've learnt how, and gone on. Nasty to the bone now. Lovers of misery."
“Knowing them doesn't help? I bet she feels trapped..” I looked at her, “Would it help if I popped in?”
“She says if they haven't caught you yet, then don't come over. They appear to be able to track.” she paused and then sharp as a tack asked. "How did you come over?"
"Stories abound. There is one where it was a mission. Another where I was talking to the Mayor at the Refuge centre trying to reunite families when the soldiers came to ask me to be the hostage. People were begging not to be, they wanted their families. i had no family left. So I said yes. The Mayor assured me I'd be well looked after. he would have been so upset. I never heard from them again. Or I was never told that anyone wrote or asked..."
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