Another Fahey Fabrikator

Chapter 1

      She lived in Novyi Zem with a Kealish da and a older brother. She can't remember much of her mother, only a toddler is when she nearly forgot everything about her ma.

All she remembers about her is her fine jewels, the smell of fresh herbs danced across her senses. How she felt the silk curls of her ma's hair when it fell over her breasts. Her da tells her that her ma would kiss her cheek, always curling the top of her big lips. How she took her ma's thick eyebrows and similar shoulder size.
     
It was the day where her da vanished during the night. She couldn't hear him leave the snug of their cabin home. For the hell of it he could stomp or crash pans and she still could never hear him. She remembers waking up that morning with a note next to her.

'Zinaida, I deeply apologize for my disappearance. I've gone to Kerch to visit your brother. Please, take care of the farm, I'm afraid I don't know the correct timing for my visit. -Da

      Exactly what she needed to start her day. She was able to understand most of the cursive handwriting to puzzle in her da's note.

      She blinked. She blinked once more before crumbling up the paper and toss it down on the floor. Outside was gorgeous and sunny, perfect for her to slip on a blue white spotted dress with a bandana across her forehead. A dress for a homespun farmer like herself. Her da would crop the vegetables; same goes for her brother, while she stayed inside of planting flowers near her mother's tree.

      From what Jesper told her, him and da buried ma under the tree. During the time the tree was an infant, hardly reaching up 7 feet. Zinaida go across the fields, sometimes in the company of Jesper to pick out flowers for ma. Jesper would carry a note book with him, so the two can interact with each other. The first time he came with her, is when she was 10. She spotted a pair of roses but Jesper tapped on her shoulder before she bent down to pick up roses:

Ma loved tulips he would write in his clean handwriting. From that day forward Zinaida would remove tulips from the ground and bring them to their ma's tree. She almost felt guilty for bring ma the wrong flowers. She felt like every saint stood over her glaring.

      But this time she didn't go out to pick flowers. 11 years go by quick if you ask Zinaida, years only surrounded by men and occasionally woman from the shops. Hundreds of flowers that Zinaida planted swarmed around her ma's tree. Different colored tulips outlining the swarm of flowers, hyacinths bloomed taller than all the others at the left side of the tree trunk, roses just behind the tulips, and daisy's stained the right side of the tree.

      She smiled and brushed back the dreads of her hair. She wish she could speak, she wish she could hush out the word 'ma' to the ground. She leaned forward to press herself on top of ma, turning around so her back is against the grass. She laid there, hands folded ever so slightly like she imagined herself being ma, what position her bones must be in just beneath her.

      She adjusted her mouth. Forming the words 'ma' by herself. She knew she must of sounded like a troll underwater since she has never spoken before; at least never taught to speak. Zinaida closed her eyes, it all seemed peaceful that morning. Though anxiety struck her like a demon. She can't fall asleep in the open like this. She couldn't hear nothing, it might rain, a fire might struck, someone could shoot her.

      She got up from her peaceful state to peer up at the farm. The farm where her da and Jesper would work hours on. Zinaida remembers one time da perchanced watermelon seeds. When the watermelon was fully grown, Jesper was the one who dug it out. But he saw a massive spider just on top of the stem, making him yelp and drop the watermelon into pieces.

      It was upsetting that there shall be no watermelon night, but it was a funny memory for her. She giggled at the thought in that moment. She wished she could see Jesper again. He was there for her ever since she was an infant. She remembers the day he left. The two siblings spent time with each other that whole day before night.

      He was the one who braided her hair into dreadlocks with colorful beads tangled in some areas. It wasn't perfect nor professional, but it was the last memory of him she had. He hasn't written a letter to her in over a month. The last letter that she received from him was written about how life is in the barrel, he'd described his mates as loving yet stubborn.

      He said he missed her face, that he could still feel the strands of her hair still on his palms. He said be bought something for her, and hopefully he will be able to mail it to her, if not then he'll give it to her when she sees him at the harbor.

      She kept the notes he sent in a jewelry box she found when she went to the harbor. 24 letters his how many he sent over the last 2 years. Every letter he sent she cherished like it was a gift from the saints, every word written she must have gone over it again and again.

      She wanted to see Jesper again. She knew Da wasn't going to return in months. She didn't want to wait for it. She didn't want to see Da at the harbor without Jesper. That is why, she plans to find him.