I Love a Lemurian!

Happening 20: New Eyes

"Mother! Are you okay? I came as fast as I could..!"
           She looked up and her gaze settled on her son's face. She saw him now with new eyes. Even his smooth-skinned friend at his side, carrying two rocks in his fists (to protect her?), didn't nauseate her now.
           "...Are those boys gone? Old Lady Prism came to warn us, but she must have taken ages to get to us. Are you okay?"
           The poor boy appeared genuinely worried about her, his mother, who had never treated him as a son. It devastated her. She had allowed the old lemurians to lay her down on a bed, as her legs had gone quite wobbly from the shock; they were still fussing about around her. She felt strong again—she just needed to get her bearings again.
           "I'm fine, son," she said, sitting up.
           "...Are you?" Johnny seemed taken aback. She realized she probably hadn't called him son since he was but a cub.
           "I am. Very fine. I ran the boys off. Though I'm afraid we won't have heard the last of it. I whacked one of them on the side of the head, the one with the largest mouth. I only wanted to stun him, it was a slap, but I'm afraid there was a lot of pent up anger driving the slap. I think I really hurt him. I then broke his wooden club in two on my knee, which is still sore, and told them I could do the same to any of their limbs. It scared off the rest of them. They might return with more people, or with the police. Or perhaps they might not want to tell anyone about them being run off by a small female lemurian..."
           Her son looked at her with a puzzled expression. He probably couldn't believe this was his mother—she had just spoken more words to him than she had in the complete past year, and she had looked him steadily in the eye, which she hadn't been able to do since he could remember. And he was correct, she believed: he didn't know this woman. She wasn't sure if she herself still knew who she was. The woman she'd been for the past ten years was gone now.
           "Where's Pearly," she asked.
           "I think she's at the lake, fishing... mom."
           What a precious boy! 'Mom'.
           "Go get her, son. I wish to tell you both of my life and where I've been."

"I was raised near a little town called St. Augustine, in Florida," their mother began...
           "By the sea!" said Pearly, who really hoped to see the sea someday.
           "Indeed, by the sea. That's what I told you, and that's all I told you, because I believed the sea was the only nice thing about my youth. But this isn't true. I had some great times growing up. I had fun, and I even had friends...
           "...I didn't think I'd ever tell you this...but...I was raised by humans."
           "Humans?!" said Pearly and Johnny simultaneously, and they shared a look and then turned back to their mother, amazed. They were back in their own home, around a wooden crate serving as a table; their mother on a chair, Pearly and Johnny sitting cross-legged on the floor. Johnny had made tea. Pearly had brought back a trout and carp, which she would prepare tonight for dinner. From outside murmurings poured in: the lemurians and Mexicans were still astir after the visit of the teens with baseball bats.
           "I never knew my parents. In fact, I wouldn't meet another lemurian until I was fully grown. I grew up in a large mansion with countless rooms. Here had lived the Preston family for almost two hundred years, and members of four generations lived there at the time. They must have been very rich, but they lived rather frugal. They had a lot of servants, but would often toil themselves by their servants' side as well. I was raised with the many children of the family. And I loved them. They were my family. We played together and we were taught together. Lessons were given by the older generations of the family, and consisted for a large part of Bible studies. The Prestons were a very religious family.
           "There were other foster children beside me, and there were some children of the servants—all of these, I later learned, were Native Americans. All were raised the American way as good Christians. They had American names and only spoke English. Like me. My name was Rebecca."
           "Rebecca?" laughed Pearly. "But your name is Dawn!"
           "It is. I picked my own name later, in the Lemurian tradition. I think I'm still Dawn, but I always believed I had long ago killed Rebecca, but she was only sleeping. She woke up today, and wonders what's become of the world..."
           Their mother fell silent for a minute. Pearly and Johnny waited patiently. They had too many questions to ask... they'd better simply listen first.