The Modern Adam and Eve

Chapter 17

It's fascinating how people perceive someone whose mind straddles the line between childhood and adulthood. To adults, such a person may seem peculiar, perhaps even threatening. Yet to children, they are the most enchanting friends in the world. This was certainly true for Octavia.

She adored having Alastor around, as he dedicated all his free time to playing with her. His fascination with her toys and games was infectious, and she relished the opportunity to teach him how each one worked. His favorite were her puppets, as she would put on delightful little shows just for him. Alastor would sit cross-legged on the floor, his eyes wide with wonder as Octavia breathed life into her puppets. Each character had its own distinct personality, and she spun intricate tales that captivated him. The way she animated the puppets, giving them unique voices and quirks, made Alastor forget the world outside. He often found himself laughing uncontrollably at their silly antics, their exaggerated movements and expressions drawing him deeper into Octavia's imaginative realm.

"Hey, Miss Two!" she made the funny-looking man puppet say. "How many miles do you think I can run?"

"I don't know. How many?" the funny-looking woman puppet replied.

"None!" Mr. One exclaimed, looking down. "I don't even have legs!"

"That's a horrible joke." Miss Two said, brandishing a stick and playfully hitting Mr. One.

Alastor erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying the playful banter between the puppets. He loved how Octavia could transform even a simple joke into a delightful performance.

"Bravo! Bravo!" He clapped.

"Thank you, thank you! You're a wonderful crowd." Octavia said, emerging from behind her puppet theater and taking a bow. "Do you want to see another one?"

"I'd love to, but I think your father will insist that you go to bed now. It's almost eleven."

Octavia pouted, her lower lip jutting out as she crossed her arms.

"But I don't want to go to bed! I'm not even tired! And I'm not so little anymore. I don't really need a curfew."

Alastor chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"I know, but you really shouldn't test your father, especially since he's still upset about you sneaking out to the stables to see me. You don't want to give him another reason to worry, do you?"

She sighed dramatically, her shoulders slumping.

"Good point." She replied sheepishly.

Together, they began to tidy up, putting away the puppets and props, the echoes of their laughter still lingering in the room. As Alastor picked up two porcelain dolls displayed as a couple, he paused, studying them.

The first doll, representing a gentleman, was dressed in a finely tailored coat of rich brocade, adorned with intricate embroidery and gold thread. The second doll, a lady, was equally exquisite, wearing a lavish silk gown with a wide skirt supported by a petticoat, her hair styled in elaborate curls and adorned with a matching ribbon. Alastor had seen them many times before and remembered how Octavia always kept them together, as if they were inseparable.

"Octavia." He asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "Why do you always keep these two dolls together?"

Her eyes lit up, and she smiled brightly.

"Because they're in love! They're a happy couple who belong together. Just like everyone has someone special to love and share a life with."

Alastor felt a pang in his chest at her words. He glanced at the lady doll, her serene expression reminding him of someone he held dear. She was much like that doll the first time he saw her—lying still, seemingly lifeless, yet so beautiful and perfect. But others had called her ugly, an abomination like him. What did those fools know about real beauty?