The Tiffany Box- ONC 2021 Shortlister

8- Healing

The wind, which had been nothing more than a minor nuisance before, now thrashed against Eli. With no luck in finding a vessel, he had been heading out of Los Demonios towards the fringes of town before the vile wind began its assault. Where in the town the wind could do little but rustle old newspapers laying on the ground and blow your hair in your eyes, in the cement-less outskirts, the wind picked up handfuls of dirt and flung them around Eli angrily. Brownish-red dust pulled him into a choking embrace. As evening hit, the lack of light and the abundance of dirt disoriented him.

Eli stopped for a moment and pulled a scarf out of his backpack. He wrapped it around his face and blindly kept walking through a sea of grime. He felt as though he were in a murky bathtub, swirling around the drain. Eli didn't know where he was heading, all he knew was he needed to find shelter. But after what seemed like hours, he realized he was pitifully lost. The wind did not give up. It played a tormenting game moaning into Eli's ear that it would eat him up. Soon, the wind turned into a painful chill which bit into whatever bit of skin it found and made Eli wince.

The light came like a beacon. Somewhere in the distance, Eli saw the gentle glow of a porch light, or what he assumed it to be. Slipping his backpack over both shoulders, he dashed towards it like a bat fluttering towards the light. Not seeing where he was running, Eli tripped over a large stone and fell. Bumping his head on a piece of debris, Eli was knocked unconscious.

In his cottage, Haven dabbed at the kitten's lids with a warm washcloth. He had removed most of the glue the night before yet the little creature refused to open its eyes. Haven knew he needed ointment. There was a plant called the Osaricus which grew wild in warm, dry, dusty climates. Los Demonios was a perfect place for it to bloom. The plant was short and plump, with flat green leaves and a chubby-faced pink flower in the middle. Haven tended to many flowers and plants in his garden, the Osaricus was one of them. Used by the Kadisin for its healing properties, Haven had been taught how to turn the plant into ointment and tea. Setting the washcloth down, he whispered to the kitten he would be back soon.

The dust swirling around his yard covered everything in a sheet of brown-red. Haven slipped on a pair of goggles. He wriggled into a long coat and slung the hood over his silvery-white hair. He covered his mouth and nose with a scarf then headed outside.

He didn't need to clearly see where he was going, he knew his land as if it were an extension of himself. Heading towards his garden, Haven began collecting what he needed. He cut off a few leaves knowing they'd be enough for a pot of balm. He'd even have enough to dry for a few cups of tea. When he'd collected enough, he wiped his goggles with his sleeve and headed home. Somewhere in a patch of unruly grass, Haven stopped when he saw someone lying face-first on the ground.

"Hey," he called to the other as he knelt. Haven grabbed the person's shoulders and gave them a small shake. "Are you OK?" Turning the other around, Haven saw it was a young man, probably eighteen or so, with the most beautiful face he'd ever seen on someone. For a foolish second, Haven was so drawn to Eli's face that the wind bashing against him was forgotten. "My God..." he uttered. It was when Haven saw the gash upon the teen's head and blood trickling down his temple, that he snapped out of his momentary lapse of logic. "Shit...Hey, wake up." Giving him another shake, Haven knew the teen was hurt. Even though Haven had sworn he'd never allow someone he didn't know into his property, not after the abuse he'd gotten by the two strangers in Phoenix, he could not leave him lying there in the dust and blood. Scooping Eli up, Haven carried him to his home.

Upon its perch on the back of a worn-out purple sofa, the kitten meowed and turned its head to the direction of the door opening.

When Haven entered with the wounded teen in his arms, a brutal red wind entered with them. Trying not to drop the other, Haven hip-bumped the door until it closed.

"I, uh, kind of found more than what I needed in the garden," Haven said to the cat as he hurried on through the small sitting room towards his bedroom.

The kitten pricked up its ears and scampered after its new friend, purring as it entered the room behind the pair.

Haven's bedroom was small yet cosy. A bed with a fluffy purple comforter sat against the far wall. Against another wall, there was a closet. A nightstand covered in awkwardly sized candles was next to the bed and there was a large colourful rug that looked hand-made on the floor. A dresser with a mirror and stool sat against the third wall. Pots of make-up, a brush and a notebook with a pen littered the dresser.

When Haven lay the younger man on the bed, the cat jumped up and mewled before standing on the teen's chest.

"He is unwell," Haven gently told the kitten as he scooped it up and set it on the floor. "I need to fix him, too."

Looking at the gash on the teen's head, Haven frowned. He didn't like the fact that the other did not wake up when he'd shaken him and feared his help would be in vain. "You don't look so good," Haven uttered as he brushed a lock of dark hair away from Eli's face. With his eyes fluttering over the teen's face, Haven became flustered at just how pretty he really was. "I mean the gash doesn't look so good," he corrected. "Someone must be missing you something fierce." Then he added sadly, "I'll fix you and you can go home soon." Haven thought of where the teen may have come from. He'd not seen him in town. Perhaps he was a passer-by, one of those kids who came to Los Demonios for a weekend of cheap drugs and cheap thrills. "What the hell were you doing in my garden?" he asked not expecting a reply. At least there was a gentle yet rhythmic rise and fall in his guest's chest, that was something that gave Haven hope.

Turning, Haven headed out of his room to get a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. The balm he'd make for the kitten would only help to heal the teen's cut, it would not wake him if he could not wake on his own. "Don't worry," Haven said as he looked over his shoulder toward his bed, "I'll take care of you until you're well."  

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