WEAVERS: A GothamX Story

4

My lunch is delivered to me; steak, mashed potatoes, green beans with a mushroom and onion gravy. I take a few bites; it's perfection. But it's hard to enjoy because I can't shake this weird feeling sitting on my shoulders; the way the darkness twisted and turned in Master Malakai's eyes when he asked about my parents- he's suffered a loss too.

I'm not one to pry into someone else's business and personal life but the pain I saw in his eyes wasn't for or about me losing my parents, his wounds are still fresh. Of course, I want to ask him but it's not place.

After finishing my lunch and washing it down with the lightly sweetened tea, I pull out the journal that Master Malakai handed off to me. Theodore Alaster Malakai. I repeat the name over and over before I can bring myself to open it.

With a heavy sigh, I turn the cover over and find familiar handwriting, my mother's. I remember seeing my mother's journals all over the house and in the RV. I tripped over a stack of them one time, hit my forehead on the corner of the coffee table. It broke the skin and freaked mom out. She panicked at the small amount of blood and called Dad home from work and had him check me out for a concussion. Once he made sure I was okay and assured Mom that I was fine, he took us out for ice cream.

Mom cleaned up her journals after that and tried to encourage me to write about myself and life. I tried it and it made me feel silly. I wish I still had my old journal but it was in the RV when it got caught in the mudslide.

"That pain you suffered didn't make you cold and dark inside." I whisper to myself as a tear rolls down my cheek.

I like to think I'm holding it all together since my parents death's but it appears I'm hanging on to anything and everything I can to keep them from slipping away from me.

Someone bumps into the table and clears their throat, I look up from the journal and meet the eyes off Master Malakai, "Do you mind if I join you, Miss. Deveraux?" He asks politely.

The friendly and bubbly chatter that was coming from the end of the table where my Aunt Rose sits goes silent as he pulls out a chair and sits down. He proceeds to drop a wrinkled and folded paper bag onto the table and open it to reveal a simple sandwich.

"How far have you gotten?" He asks before he takes a bite of his sandwich.
I hold up his journal and show him the inner cover with my mother's handwriting, "To live alone is the fate of all great souls."

He chuckles at it and sets his sandwich down on the bag, "She wrote that in my journal many years ago, Miss. Deveraux but it does feel like it was just yesterday. You should take the afternoon off and read. We can begin again tomorrow morning in the library."

He returns to his sandwich as I turn the page to begin reading the strange interworkings of not one, but two minds. The writing on the journal is in three colors of inks; red, blue and black. Master Malakai's thoughts and opinions are in black, quotes from Theodore Alaster Malakai are in blue and his notes on them are in red.

It may be the most organized disorganized mess I've ever read, the ramblings of two men attempting to makes sense of Light and Darkness; one cannot exist or be experienced without the other but both can exist independently.

"Alexa, what do you have there?" Aunt Rose softly interrupts my reading.

"She has one of my journals, Matron Deveraux. I'm hoping that it will inspire and encourage her to begin her own journal." Master Malakai speaks up before I am able to answer.

"Oh, that's nice. It took Lily awhile to get into journaling too." She says gently squeezing my shoulder, "Don't rush things, Alexa, we have plenty of time here." She adds before drifting off into the now standing group of Matrons.

"I sense that you feel like journaling is silly. Am I wrong?" Master Malakai assumes to me.

I can't lie, I'm terrible at lying, "It does feel silly. Mom tried to get me to write but it never really stuck with me." I sigh heavily, replaying the memories of my mother in the back of my mind.

"Earlier, when you asked about my parents, you said that the pain I suffered didn't make me cold and dark inside. You had this look in your eyes and I don't mean to pry or anything, but you seemed-" I stop talking once I realize that I was doing exactly what I said I wouldn't do, ask.

I hear a heavy inhale and exhale, "I lost my nephew- my son last year. He used to sit with me during lunch and I thought you wouldn't mind if I joined you."

"I don't mind if you sit with me. I was going to return to the library because you were in there alone." I whisper back as my eyes water.

His eyes twinkle and swirl, this time without the darkness I saw earlier. People are not supposed mourn alone. And I do not believe that, "To live alone is the fate of all great souls." nonsense. It's discouraging and sad and it's the complete opposite of what either one of us needs.