Chapter 7 – Children
495 1 21
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Chapter 7 - Children

Father began by sending vibrations of knowledge through me about what it meant to instar, "Everyone must grow. From when you were just a tracing of possibility within your mother and me, to when you will be ready to have little ones of your own with the family you choose."

Still trembling from my exertions, I was not prepared for that thought: Children

With mom, she commodified grandchildren and plunged in the guilt that I wasn't making any "for her". In my head, I liked the idea of children. Kids running around, asking questions, and learning things. More than anything, I burned with the hope that I would never put the kind of tears and pain on the faces of my children that mom seared in me. But I knew she could as easily turn them against me as she could turn me against myself. 

Never mind the fact I was destined to make eggs in a shell and whisper their names and the secrets of the world to them. Unless they were like me. Father continued, as my mind abandoned so many possible directions to stay with him.  

"Soon, your tiny form will grow and grow and become too much for you to hold inside. You will have to leave behind everything that protects you to take the next steps in your life. I have seen it happen in your brothers and sisters and my own before them. It will hurt, as all changes do. And you will be left a frail and radiant glimmer of the milk light, as stark and blank as the sweet rocks I sometimes find. But do not be afraid, for it is just a part of life."

Molting. 'Instar' had tickled some dancing storm of what used to represent my brain but hearing that from him put it all together. He explained that it would take several times abandoning who I was to grow and adapt to a new shape, one that would take me closer to being an adult. Granted, I was just born but this was supposed to be innate genetic or egg memory. The life cycle of a bug sure came at you fast. Hold on, baby, you'll soon leave this all behind and have kids of your own. 

But...big caveat, while I listened, agreed, and made sure of things, I reminded myself that this wasn't really my life. My life was a sedentary subsistence under the weight of my mother's words with just enough to get by. I wasn't a bug. I wasn't actually Grete Mudwell. This was just a coma vision of exceptional detail. It had to be. The alternative was....it was...

I died. 

Just saying it was enough reality for right then, I still had to learn all the names of these strange siblings. And the outside. I wanted to know so much more about the outside. 

Father cautioned me that it was too early to think about places like that. "We have much to eat now. Water is near and plentiful. We are safe, together. Though not everything is as joyous as it could be, for the little ones, your brothers and sisters, who were not strong enough. May the King bring them the sweetest rest." I noticed the mother-bug drawing the others close and doting on them one by one, even those that could nearly match her for size. 

Some things in this place could be sweet and some could be quite bitter. Nothing new but it made me feel all the smaller. 

The foul, wretched smells I'd been greeted with at first had mellowed to an earthy, supple aroma that no longer haunted my senses. As well, sitting atop father, I could discern a presence to him which was hard to filter through my human perspective. He felt like nutmeg but not how it settled in pumpkin pie. Words could only sketch out the boundaries. Father dwelt in the presence of a broad, slick nutmeg that warmed and satiated my senses. The mother-bug was somewhere between caramelized peach with a milky broth but the other scents meshed too much to pull from the warm, cloying mud. 

When all the trembles had left me, I started grooming father. My touch was slow and unsure as I faintly uncovered more of his scent, like an archaeologist brushing away dirt. He soon halted me, and inquired, "Are you certain you remember nothing of the egg sleep?" 

After I again affirmed my ignorance, he noted, "Then you learn quickly. As we care for you, you care for us. To groom me so eagerly and without reminder, I can tell you are the astute and diligent daughter I know you to be."

Praise from a parent, though in a place and a form I never expected to see it, warmed me more than any discarded note of tolerance mom slipped through the waves of venom. 

So, I polished father until it felt like my limbs were raw. Watch out, terrible things with nasty names, you aren't getting a piece of him! Eventually, exhaustion slowed my progress and I squirmed my way off his back and beside a comforting leg. 

He lifted it lightly whenever he moved, attending to the needs and concerns of others but always aware I was still there. Also aware of me was a creeping, stalking Silt whose eyes could see anything but only gazed at me. He wrapped me up like he'd found his true purpose in life by just keeping me in his embrace. 

21