Cloudchild

Chapter 7 - Darkness

Annani poked her head over the fountain, googly-eyed peacock likewise; a boy played a hydraulophone rhythmed to their movements. Annani shook her head, water flicking from her bristly curtain as the hydraulophone sang. The bird leaned away, glared, then ruffled his wet feathers—her voluminous quills smacked him over. He floated upside down, legs up, all twitchy.

Chunks of clouds rolled down the street, chased by four children each a different colour: red, green, brown and black, all their quills cut short.

Annani cocked her dripping head as the rolling clouds moved on their own. How do they do that? The bouncy clouds sparked and zapped.

A boy with black scales huffed and puffed behind the pursuers. He manoeuvred around passersby and occasional flying jellies, yet his little frame offered only so much speed.

"P-P-Petichrr? Is that you? Hey! You hear me!?" Annani slid out the fountain and thumped onto the ground. "Ow!" She sat up, shook her head, and waddled after the bouncing clouds. "My head still hurts... Hey, hey! P-P-Pechichrr? Peh-Peh-Peh... Black beetle!"

The obsidian boy skidded then turned. His eyes twinkled, hands under his chin... Annani approached!

"I'm back!"

"A-A-Annn-nnn-nn and...and b-b-by th-th-the fow-fowww-f-f-w-wuh-wah-water!" Petrichor wildly oscillated as he wheezed through clenched teeth, emotions unrestrained, voice hindered.

Annani reared, puzzled by his eruption of emotive muteness; the hydraulophone player's tune adjusted to Petrichor...but then the music lowered into foreboding—the peacock slowly stuck his head over the fountain. He clawed out but someone grabbed his tail, pulled him back into the water, and laughed. The bird's head resurfaced, making a watery glare amid weepy music, nostrils bubbling.

"Hey! The Angel...there she goes!" a child squeaked.

"Don't leave so early!"

"Come to my place!"

"No! Come to my place!"

"Wait up, Angel!"

"I'm going after Angel!"

"Me first!'

"Outta my way!"

"Move!"

"Weee!"

The hydraulophone music intensified. Annani spun around—a horde of screaming children avalanched over themselves and splashed out the fountain, peacock sloshing about.

Petrichor remained enraptured; Annani smacked his head. "Run for it, dummy!" She darted off. He looked back; an angry, googly-eyed peacock led the charge of screeching brats. Petrichor's expression faded; he also ran.

Annani's feet erupted with pain, the sensation seemingly splintering her shinbones, though she ran on with youthful energy. She reached the panting pursuers of rolling clouds, gradually outpacing them. "Don't look back!" The runners looked back; the infantile mob grew larger and larger as more children joined the frenzy.

Petrichor laboured behind while the peacock pecked his backside. Although scaly butt unharmed, he squealed from fright, spurred by the buzzard.

Onlookers and passersby often turned their heads as the strange cluster of younglings ran down the street, low-flying jellies sometimes in the way. A small Magna Bulla drifted by and collided with Annani's forehead, audibly bouncing off. Petrichor ran around the flying jelly while the peacock went underneath, beak primed, then the bird squawked as the horde of excited children behind trampled him.

Annani turned her head. "About time you made it!"

Petrichor caught up. "I can't go fast with these little legs!"