“Wake up little girl,” the old woman whispered from the window. She had hissed and crowed, but the girl asleep in the small poster bed had not stirred. The old woman tried again, crooning gently from the sill.
Finally the little blonde girl stirred, rubbing an eye with a pudgy hand, still enlarged from the baby fat that was slowly dissipating as she headed towards being a kid and no longer a child. She sniffed, “Wassat?”
“Hello, little one,” the old woman smiled kindly. Her blood was from her side still, soaking her clothes. She knew she was minutes from death. She knew because she had seen it with her own eyes.
“You are a stranger,” the little girl yawned, only deigning to turn her head, and not climb from the bed.
“Yes, I suppose I am,” the old woman grinned despite herself, pushing a lock of gray hair from her face, absentmindedly smearing a bit of blood across her forehead.
“Are you hurt?” The little girl noticed.
A firm nod. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why anything? Why everything?” The old woman shrugged. “It is funny how the world looks different from the place you are sitting. Perspective is everything.”
“Huh?” Confused looks of different types flashed across the little girl’s face, a flurry of conflicting yet complimentary states of the same thing expressed in a way only a child can.
“I am here to give you a gift, little one.”
The little girl’s eyes went wide as the statement caught her full attention. She sat upright in her little bed, swinging her chubby ankles and feet swinging over the side. “I was told not to take gifts from strangers.”
“My name is… Grangran. And you are?” The old woman waved a hand of introduction.
“Alyssa?”
“That is a pretty name, Alyssa. See? Now we are not strangers.”
“I suppose that’s right,” Alyssa noted, scrunching her lips and her forehead simultaneously as she thought it through. “We are not strangers. How do you do?”
“I am well. And you?” Grangran played along, despite feeling her thigh getting wet and cold from the blood soaking out of from between her ribs. Thankfully she did not feel light headed yet. Mezz had a hand in that for certain.
//I am sorry//
Grangran shook her head at the thought, dismissing it. She knew it had to happen this way. Things always happened for a reason. And her purpose was the reason, this time and every time.
“Tired. What time is it?” Alyssa asked meekly. She stood, and took a tentative step away from her bed.
“It’s late. I am sorry for that. But I brought you gift.”
Alyssa shook her head. “If it is candy I am not going to take it.”
“Smart girl. Your mama taught you well. Always listen to your mama.”
“I will,” Alyssa took another step from the comfort and safety of her covers.
//You remember this//
Grangran shook her head again, trying to clear the voice away. “Little Alyssa, do you know what a singularity is?”
Confusion again. Her eyebrows scrunched, raising up like caterpillars readying for battle against each other. “Na-uh.”
“It’s always No. Try not to say Na-uh, it sounds too backwater,” Grangran corrected gently. “A singularity is an event that is so powerful that cannot but help change everything around it. It is like an explosion that never ends.”
“That sounds scary.”
“It is amazing. Scary sometimes, yes. But always amazing,” Grangran smiled, pulling her locket from around her neck carefully, trying not to fall from the roof. As soon as she let go of Mezz, the strength she was feeling was going to fade away with her. She had to make it to the woods still. “This is Mesmer.”
“It’s a necklace.”
“It’s a singularity. An intelligent one. Her name is Mesmer. She talks.”
Grangrin sniffed, feeling the fear again, the pain of the unknown looming just at her fingertips. She could ask… she could ask Mezz to take her back. Take her anywhere. Take her elsewhere. Anything but this night, in these woods, in the darkness of the Mississippi south.
“Mesmer?” Alyssa stretched a hand out, brushing her hand against the locket. For a brief moment, Grangran felt the connection to Mesmer fray and reassert itself once again. This was going to hurt. So powerfully.
//The cycle must continue//
“Mezz for short. She will be your bestest friend ever,” Grangran stretched her hand out to hand the locket over.
The young Alyssa took it gingerly, looking at the silver and gold locket with amazement. “It is so pretty.”
The connection frayed again, but instead of reasserting itself, it faded away altogether as Grangran let go. She immediately felt the bullet, the wound, the shock and blood loss hammered her all at once. She swayed against the windowsill, her feet uneven on the shingled eave.
“I… I… uh, have to go now,” Grangran grimaced, biting the words off as they escaped her lips. “Bye bye Alyssa. Oh, and don’t tell anyone about Mesmer. She is yours to protect.”
“Ok. I won’t.”
“Promise me,” Grangran demanded.
//Promise//
Alyssa’s eyes snapped down to the locket, hearing Mesmer’s voice in her own mind. “I promise.”
Grangran leaned back out of the window. She blinked slowly, once, twice. She had a tree to stumble to. The funny looking one. The one that held secrets. Alyssa did not watch Grangran leave, as she was too busy feeling Mesmer in her palm, stroking it with a finger.
Mezz’s voice broke out as if traveling a vast distance as Grangran stumbled towards her secret tree in the dark.
“Goodbye, Mezz. Take good care of me.”
//I will//
A pause.
//Promise//