The baker stomped over and grabbed little Vanya's ear. The boy was dragged out and shouted at with menace. His friends hid behind the bakery, feeling guilty but still barely restraining the laughter that was gurgling in their throats.
With flushed cheeks, the baker stormed back into his bakery, cursing angrily under his breath. The four boys scrambled up and ran away, laughing hysterically.
Florence watched from the edge of the clearing, amused, a smirk on her face. Over to her right, Grace was watching her, sitting under a tree, her glassy eyes fixed on her sister.
The day that Florence first arrived at the village, Grace's heart nearly stopped. Literally.
The thing she had been fearing most, happened. It was ironic. It was devastating. The day that she had started living as a frescreet, she had made a vow:
No matter what, she would protect her family from the frescreets.
She had seen the frescreets at their worst and at their best. Especially Rafael. No matter what, she would try to get Florence away from him. Otherwise, it was bound to end in disaster.
The only set back was Rafael himself. It didn't take a genius to figure out Grace's plan and Rafael had certainly figured it out.
There was not a moment of privacy for Grace and Florence. Rafael never left Florence’s side. His scheming eyes wandered, Florence to Grace to Florence to Grace. His rotten heart barricaded their reunion.
*
Strange isn't it?
Florence the protector needed protection.
How unfortunate.
*
Grace was unable to make any lengthy contact with her sister at all. She couldn't even send a message, Rafael saw to that.
Completely isolated from Florence, Grace's anger kindled. Her hatred for Rafael grew like a flower. Slowly at first, then blooming. Rafael was her sun and water, her hatred was fuelled by him.
Her husband was her secateurs. He curved her anger, cutting off her thorns, containing her wildness. And Florence was the girl who gazed at the flowers with utter innocence. Grace grew her hatred for Florence's sake, it fuelled her will to help her sister.
Homebound
3rd May 1939
The news arrived at Florence's front door late on Tuesday. It was a cool night, starved of the day's heat. The moon had shone on Salomon Mele's face, reflecting off his yellowish teeth. Florence's father had stumbled out of bed to answer the door, only in his night clothes.
"Gabriel!" Salomon had exclaimed when the door was opened, still beaming.
"Why are you here so bloody late Salomon? What on earth is it?" Gabriel asked, confused, stepping aside to let his brother in. "Sit down, want a drink?"
"No, no. I can't stay. I have to get back to Édith. I just came to tell you the news." he could barely talk from the unmoving smile on his lips. "Lisette will be coming home in three weeks."
Gabriel's face erupted into a grin.
"Thank the Lord, it's about time, isn't it?" They embraced, their arms wrapped around one another.
"Well, I should be getting back."
"Danke Salomon, Florence will be very excited.” The door closed and Salomon fled down the street with a smile in his heart.
In the doorway of her room, Florence wept. Tears of bittersweet joy ran down her face, dropping onto her pillow.
"Why are you crying Flory?" Oliver's little face poked out of his sheets.
"It's Lisette, she's coming home. Ollie, she's coming home." But Ollie was already asleep.
Florence laughed and cried into the morning. Her eyes were red and raw but who cared? Lisette was coming home.
By the time the sun showed its face, Florence had already left. Her bare feet slapped the road and her nightdress was hitched up to her knees.
"Ben, wait!" The boy turned around, what on earth was Florence doing running around only in her nightclothes?
"What's wrong Flory?"
"Nothing, nothing at all!" She caught up to him, panting through her beaming smile.
"What?"
"It's her."
"It's who?!"
"Lisette, schwachsinniger, she's coming home!" Florence looked up expectantly, waiting for a cheer.
It never came.
Instead, Ben's face fell. His shoulders released and his head dropped a little. He turned and started walking away.
"Ben?" Florence asked, shocked. "What's wrong Ben? Aren't you glad?" Ben just kept walking, head hanging. Brows furrowed, Florence, again, jogged to him. Half running to keep up, Florence tried again. What on earth was wrong!?
"Ben? What is it?" no response. "Hello? Ben?" Ben ignored her again and kept walking, eyes set on the road. "Benjamin Seelenfreund! Don't you dare try to ignore me!" this time Ben stopped. "Ben, please tell me what's wrong." Florence said, a little more gently. Ben sighed, his shoulders heaving up and down. Reluctantly, he turned and looked Florence in the eye.
"I. I, just. I just don't want her to come back." he said, ashen faced.
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Florence asked, taken aback.
"It's like I said. I just don't want her to come back home." He turned around and continued on. Again, Florence ran up to him.
"But, but what happened to you wanting her back? You said you did, just the other night at the pond. You know, when we were fishing?"
"Ja, I do remember. But that was then and this is now. I was wrong, okay?!"
"Well, you at least have to tell me why you don't want her back."
"Fine." Ben exhaled heavily and stopped in the middle of the road to face Florence. "Because while she's not here, I can still pretend it was all just a dream. I can go to bed at night and believe she is just pulling my leg. As soon as she comes home, any hope of her recovery will be lost. Once I see her here every day, there won't be anything left for me to imagine and hope for." Ben saw the confusion in Florence's eyes and pressed on. "But, it's not just me, Flory. It's Lisette too. When she gets home she'll realise what's really happened. The comfort of home will be lost because her free world and paralysed world will collide. She'll realise she can't do what we can. She'll realise that she's stuck like that. She'll realise that the rest of her life will be spent alone. Nobody is like her. Nobody can give her what she wants. Nobody can understand what she's going through. Florence, our sister will be left to fight her war alone and no one, not even you will be able to take up a shield and block the arrows to her back." Ben stopped and looked Florence right in her eyes. They were wide open and brimming with tears. Florence was shocked. Ben's words had been so true they'd hurt. "I'm sorry Florence, but I'm right and you know it." he nodded sadly and walked away. Florence was left in the middle of the road whilst realisation cut into her like a sword in her chest.
She felt the blanket of earth slipping from beneath her feet.
She fell to the ground.
"Verdammt."
Pounding the earth blanket
6th May 1939
*
Despite all the apprehension and worry,
when Lisette returned home,
there was not a trace of misery.
*
After talking with Ben, Florence felt like there was a big bruise on her head that she craved to touch. She wore her brows pulled together, furrowed and tight. She would often snap back at people, a little more aggressively than intended and people would often hear her give the wall a kick. Her fingertips bled, the nails bitten to the quick and a constant headache made her dizzy.
Florence's mood didn't improve, not until she visited her cousin again, two days later.
The Friday sun made her drowsy, her eyelids drooping. She had taken Lisette on her usual walk, stopping to talk to Herr Schendrich and to attend the usual rant from Frau Hendlauke.
When, as usual, Lisette begged to be taken outside, Florence knew. She knew that Lisette had to go home. For the first time, she saw the complete deepness of the longing in her. Her dulling eyes were soaked with hunger. Hunger for air. Hunger for people. Hunger for the life she no l
onger had.
Everything that Ben had said no longer seemed true. Nothing was worth keeping Lisette in the hospital.
She would go mad.
Since that visit, the imaginary bruise had healed. Florence's head cleared and you could often catch her with a smile on her face. There were no attempts to persuade Ben to think otherwise about Lisette, there was simply no changing his mind. But honestly, Florence didn't care. Soon she would have her cousin back.
*
Waiting for 'soon' to arrive would be more painful than thought possible.
*
In perfect contrast, Ben couldn't have been more dejected if he tried. He trudged through the day tripping up on his gloominess. His misery gave Herr Salzwedel a run for his money.
Unlike Florence, he could hardly bring himself to visit Lisette. It was as though his presence would speed up her return home.
He stayed up late each night, unable to sleep. He would often find himself wandering out of his room and down the stairs. The wood creaked beneath him. He would go out the backdoor and over to the tree. There, amongst the parched leaves and sticks, he would collapse, his back slumped against the trunk. His fists would pound the earth beside his thighs. Little tears would mix with hissed curse words and dribble down into the ground, a murky solution of confusion and angst.
He would slowly wander back inside. His head would sink down onto his pillow and his eyes would close, sleep would finally come.
These moonlight expeditions became routine for Ben. Every night until Lisette's return he would venture out into the forest, sit and pound his fists a bit. It helped him cope. It seemed that Germany wasn't the only fist that pounded the earth blanket that year.
The new face of Benjamin Seelenfreund
25th May 1939
Two days before, it had been Ben's seventeenth birthday. His sprouting lip hairs had curled up with his mouth, a toothy grin had spread over his face. Florence had watched her friend, proud. Since his last birthday, he had changed. He was no longer the foolish child she had once known.
The old Ben had been short sighted. He had stolen. He had lied. He had vandalised. He had thought nothing of growing up or his future, but things had changed.
Florence had grown up, her secret had put a great weight on her shoulders. Her eyes had opened up, the forthcoming war looming ever closer. Florence was nearly a woman.
The whole time Ben had been there, watching in the background. He had watched his best friend change and grow. But he was so caught up with Florence that he forgot about himself.
He had changed too. Dramatically.
He was no longer the little boy who stole and lied. He was now the sensitive man who had responsibilities. He wasn't his own first priority anymore, Lisette and Florence never strayed from his mind. He was now Ben, the new one, and Florence was proud of him.
In the weeks leading up to Lisette's return, Ben had begun to change his mind. Having been forced to visit her, by Florence, he had realised something that he had missed every time before. Just like Florence, he noticed Lisette's misery. He too saw the dullness in her eyes. He couldn't find that spark in them anymore.
He realised that staying there would kill her.
Of course, still there was that little tickle inside Ben's head telling him no.
Telling him that things were best left as they were.
Telling him that everything would go wrong.
Telling him he had been right before.
He killed that little tickle. He pounded it into the ground beneath his bleeding fists every night.
When Florence noticed the bruises around his knuckles, he brushed her off.
"I hurt them at Salzwedels', just doing a job." he preferred to keep it to himself. Florence, being Florence, asked no more. She had no doubt that Ben was lying, but she said nothing, even though the weeks went past and the bruises kept spreading and the bags beneath his eyes kept darkening.
Eventually though, when a worrying green colour began to settle in, Florence broke.
"Ben, I don't know what's going on and I don't have to know, but please stop. Write it down or something. I can see that you're dying for some sleep and your hands obviously need a rest. Honestly Ben. I don't care about why this is happening, but for your own sake, give it a break." Ben had looked down at his hands and his eyes had widened. Until then he hadn't properly noticed the sickening colour settling into his skin. But even then he struggled to focus his fatigued eyes.
"I think you're right Florence Mele."
Ben did stop. He would still go out under the blackened sky, but he simply rested his back against the tree. The streaky patches of moonlight surrounded him, the gentle breeze caressed his face.
For that time being, Ben decided to leave the earth pounding to the rest of the world.
A much awaited return
26th May 1939
The day Lisette came back, there was not a face without a smile. The creamy teeth in each mouth glowed like little lights.
The skinny girl was lifted into her bed, only one set of arms were needed. There were many hugs and kisses and even a few tears. Adults fussed over the girl in bed and the little children screamed for attention.
Lisette waited, watching from her bed. She brushed off each curious person and slowly the wriggling huddle of people shrunk, one by one trickling out of the room.
"Hallo." Florence and Ben sat in opposite sides of the room, the last few people having just left. They came and sat on the end of Lisette's bed.
'So your shelf's gone. If I were you, I'd have burnt it.' Florence didn't say it, but she certainly thought it. "How does it feel? Being home, I mean. A relief, I presume?" Florence asked instead.
"I don't really know yet, so far it's just more of the same. Sitting in bed, family fussing over you. But, I am so glad to be out of hospital. It was hell in there."
No one knew what to say to that, so they sat in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, like those you have with some people. These types of silences are very common, one person may experience several in a day. This silence however was much rarer. It was one of those contented silences, when you are just happy to be in the company of your loved ones.
They all sat there, breathing each other's air and smelling each other's smell. As usual, no words were needed, presence was enough.
*
Sometimes when I see children with that much love for one another,
I almost feel jealous.
Almost.
There's just one thing restraining the jealousy.
Me.
I am barely human,
nor animal for that matter.
I feel no envy.
*
One word that would roughly summarise the next few days for Lisette is peaceful. The word fits sometimes, but sometimes it's a riot. In these circumstances, the word peaceful is kind of like a pair of ill-fitting pants. Big and baggy around the tops, comfy and warm in the ends.
Yes, Lisette's next few days were very much like a pair of baggy pants.
There was always that war, her mental struggle that left her with wounds in her head.
But, then again, there was always the part where the pants fit properly. In the ends, the pants were comfortable. In the end, Lisette was glad to be home.
The anniversary of safety
27th May 1939
The strawberry haired girl was making gestures at Florence. Her eyes flickered around frantically and her hands made urgent movements beside her legs. Florence stared at her mouth, the silent words screaming at her.
No matter how hard Florence tried, she couldn't decipher her message. It was hard enough pretending to listen to Rafael.
"Florence? Florence!?"
"Oh, sorry."
"You seem very distracted today. Is something troubling you?"
"No, no. I'm just very tired. I stayed up late with my cousin last night." she lied, all the while attempting and failing to read the girl's lips.
Even though this day marked the anniversary of finding and becoming protector of the village, Florence still felt an outcast. There seemed to be something that was being keept from her, something big and important. It always made her nervy.
One year ago on that day, Florence had stood in the same place under the same sun. But she had been standing there naked. Not of clothes, of course, but of knowledge. She had had no idea of what was coming and what she was in for.
At the edge of the clearing, Florence had stood, her hair wild and wearing a torn nightdress with a hundred faces upon her. She had stared, bewildered, back into all their glassy eyes. The porcelain like creatures had gasped and they had cheered. They had clapped and they had rejoiced. They had sung out praise for their new protector, the purine girl.
It had been the beginning of a new story. So much had happened in that very short year, almost as much as what had happened in Florence's entire life before then.
Within the space of a few days, Florence had stumbled upon an entirely new species, never seen before, hoping never to be seen.
From finding those first few mystery objects scattered about the mountainside, to being taken and made protector of the frescreet tribe, Florence's life had certainly been tipped upside down.
*
Despite the constant itch inside Florence,
itching for life to be as it once was,
Florence wouldn't trade her old life back for anything.
*
There had been too many times to count in which Florence had nearly let her secret slip. The words had clawed their way out of her belly and up her throat. They had scratched at her lips and at her teeth, their vicious claws drew blood. But each time, Florence had held back a scream and swallowed the words again.
She had no choice.
For one whole year those words had been scrambling out of Florence and getting pushed back down. Florence's greatest fear was that they would eventually get out. There would be no turning back. The secret would be out and the frescreets would be finished.
Rafael led Florence by the hand, tearing her away from the eyes of Grace. The beaming crowd swallowed them up, cheering and applause filled Florence's ears.
The festivities began, Florence towering above all, trying to relocate the strawberry haired girl. The children skipped around Florence holding hands, even several hours of rehearsal couldn't stop them from giggling or tripping each other up. Their dance was followed by a song, followed by another dance, followed by another. The fragile patter of tiny feet became an earthy bass beat.