Chapter 23 - Storms

We got our first winter storm in years when Wiatt was driving back from work. He grew up in a tropical climate, so he couldn't stop pulling over to take pictures of the roadway through the hills. I took out my old leather boots and staggered around the slushy mix.

I made sure his spot in the driveway was shoveled before he arrived, despite fresh snow still falling. He snapped dozens of photos of everything for his social media. I attempted my best smile for shared selfies. The next time it snowed, it was just me.

I sat out on a wooden, dining room chair with my phone swaddled in a trash bag, my best jacket on, and a pair of shorts. Only once I started to feel numb, did I consider going inside. I shared all of it with him online, but it wasn't the same. Too many moments only exist once, and you desperately want them over when they're happening, but you fervently wish for them back in retrospect.

Every moment with Wiatt was like that. But then the comfort of someone, something, is better than the drowning bitterness of isolation.

Elbee was more than merely "something" though. She felt like those precious, early-hours of soul-sharing with Wiatt. We were together in the same ache.

But the solution to it wasn't simple. This Bellona wasn't just waiting for us to hunt them down. At the same time, Elbee asked around for information on a direction. Three petal turns against dawn gleaming and five windward was the best she could get from the survivors. A petal loosely correlated to dials on a clock, closer to fifteen in a circle. It also had an aspect of groundward and skyward angling.

Whatever. I would let her do the navigation and wayfinding. She seemed far better at it than I could ever imagine myself to be. She hopped from petal to petal, reflexively hunting for and scooping out a gooey powder of pollen and sticky nectar. It wasn't long before she realized she'd overfilled her pouches with no destination to drop it off. We shared a little together, even though I just ate to eat.

"Do you think I...do you...d-did I do the right thing?"

She settled her glassy cloak of wings as I noticed she actually had four of them draped across her back. I could see her sitting up with her legs crossed in that matte-black skirt, hair slightly-ruffled with no easy way to set it back in order. She tried to be diligent with sweets and not partake too openly.

"What do you think?" I reflected.

She tucked her uniform in neatly and brushed a light bit of sugar away from her trim bust, acting as though someone was sure to show up and promptly sting her for some microscopic infraction. The wind ruffled at her plush, velvety hairs. What I could glimpse of the horizon hinted at stark, colorless clouds.

Elbee weighed my question as she tidied up, finally answering, "I really don't know. My duty and life are for Akos. She's gone. I could die in a flut or a gleaming and it wouldn't matter. I'm halfway through anyway. And I did all I could....maybe."

Pressing her on that, I learned that she basically lived for a few weeks. The Shashelm had several instars and I got the impression from Sana we could live for weeks or months, even years. If she wasn't just spinning comforting reassurances.

Elbee frantically urged me not to worry about it, noting, "Whatever time I have is what I have. Scouting is the end of my life. But! Buuuut I still feel strong and my wings are...wingy. And everything is fine. I just...well, if I find this monster...I intend to give my life. That way, no more out there will need to suffer...what we both know right now."

She appeared calm with the prospect, at least as calm as her flighty, nervous general mood seemed to get. Maybe it was a human thing but measuring life in days felt like a curse or a sickness. I asked Elbee if there was anything she really wanted to do and see with the days she had.

Naturally, she puzzled at my question. A bee had hardwired goals. Having a bucket list or anything like that would be bizarre. However, she gave it some thought before resolving, "I want to find the most brilliant blue flowers. One of my elder sisters once told me of some that were kinda this way but really really far. Hundreds of fluts. She had such serenity in her after that. That would be nice. And other things."

"....Other things?"

She braced herself for that question and made her best effort not to appear flustered as she elaborated, "Ideas. Thoughts. S-stuff I'm not even sure about yet. But which I'd like to experience. N-not to worry about it. That would be extra...special extra...extra to just find certain things I don't even know about, you know? Not that I'm EXPECTING anything but just. I have one thing to do, but anything can happen before then."

Saving her from buzzing and shifting her limbs all over to hunt for the words she wanted, I answered, "I know. Even a look outside of Mudwell, at this amazing world, was more than I could ever imagine."

From Elbee's demeanor, I could tell she was hoping she didn't have to provide more of an answer. The wind pressed her wings down, and she hovered closer to the ground, with the cover of the creaking, swaying flowers above. It wasn't long before the hint of clouds became an enveloping drape across the land, hiding the burning light behind a shelter of stagnant, muggy air.

A lull in the encroaching brightness of the day was welcome for me but Elbee looked anxious, resolving, "If a storm is coming then we won't be able to track that swarm and Bellona." While she had a point there, I offered, "Maybe they'll be just as hindered?"

Pausing to consider this prospect, Elbee soon bobbed her head and decided she liked it, announcing, "Yeah! Bring on the storm to thrash them!" The skies, seemingly, responded to her with a breath of ozone cloaked in a streaking flash and a rumble of thunder. Poor Elbee practically squeaked in surprise before pulling a curtain of stalks around her.

I felt eager for a little shower but crept over to join her in a cozy, impromptu shelter. She instinctively turned away from me but tried to hide it in a polite look through the petals. I carved out my own little impression in the earth, especially as beading droplets began to fall and loosen up the dirt.

Sitting there and watching the quickening rain felt surreal. I wanted to reach for an umbrella. At the same time, my body embraced the moisture bath. My science classes were light and simple, but I regularly went to the library to read further. Mother encouraged this, for a time.

But the properties of water in this place befuddled me. Some bugs could run across ponds due to the surface tension. At the very least, it should feel like chocolate syrup to drink or the xanthan gum thickened stuff they gave grandma at the end. And yet, water felt like water. Citrine picked up a globule of nasty fluid to dunk on me, but it didn't suck me in.

Then, there was falling without injury. And the light. I had eyes completely unlike my human ones, and yet I could feel blinking and shades and refraction just the same as before. My only thought was the same rules did not apply here as back home. Or perhaps I wasn't a tiny bug, but some larger mass with aspects of the world inflated. Or just...

Roiling thoughts eased as the full force of the storm met us. I helped Elbee bend the low-hanging leaves down, so she could secure better protection. She shielded herself with each blasting flash of light through the clouds. Bending out, I rinsed my body until I hoped it was good enough.

Gingerly, I approached Elbee with bits of leaf and a warm shoulder to keep her insulated. At first touch, she twisted away. But she soon shifted back to my side. The dripping street urchin hugging the drenched royal intern. Every so often, she would desperately beat her wings to share some warmth.

Between strikes, when it was just us huddled together against the storm, Elbee whispered, "I'm scared."

I gently groomed her sleek, droplet-streaked form and reassured her, "We're safe in here. The storm will pass."

Struggling to get a clear breath with the swelling water, Elbee pondered, "I h-hope so. But that's not all. I'm scared I'll get lost, and my wings will get hurt, and I'm not strong enough and, sweet petals, I'll mess something up. I'm scared with just me and no other Elpis. My life was going to be swift sunny days making sure Akos was okay. Then, a kind little Elpis would sing me to my sleep. And then...well I wouldn't have to worry about that...but now..."

The thin but dense rivulets stood in for dappled tears as Elbee struggled past those words. Doing my best to echo the maternal touch of real-mom, with the projected calm of Father's reassurance, while seeking some shadow of the energy and certainty that Silt and Sana shared with me, I told Elbee, "It's not just you. We're together. We're friends, as you told the Elpis. You found and comforted me in my darkest moment. You listened to my story and let me hear yours. No matter what challenges might await us, I'll be with you."

She fussed and puzzled with me, "But why? I know I said 'friend' but it's a word another Elpis borrowed from the Formiga. I barely understand it. I might be misusing it, but I hoped it might protect you from being harmed by my sisters. But you have no ties to me. We're not sisters. Why would you do that?" She hunted through her own words, as though some rational, scientific epiphany might settle the matter.

Same reason I would still drive as far as I needed to help Wiatt, if he ever asked me. Same reason I smiled at a friendly word from even the idlest greeting when I was in college. Because I am a fool who tries to care, as mother might say.

"Because I don't want you to be scared or lost or in pain. No matter what time you have...that we have...why not do our best for one another together, as if we were sisters?"

The slightest sound of uncertainty escaped Elbee, but she restrained it and cleared away the droplets I couldn't get. The rain, ever-present static pelting the gooey earth and bowing blooms, gradually let up enough for us to notice a sound behind the roars, rumbles, and splatters.

Elbee remarked on it before I could find the words, "Wait a twillie...is that singing?"