The Vaticinator

3. The Surprisals

We make it to the woods and break off into a sprint. I have always assumed that I’ll be exceptionally giddy and thrilled to realize that I am finally at the stage of reaching maturity. But right now I feel…nothing. I wonder if it’s shock that isn’t allowing me to feel the excitement. Or maybe it is because I actually feel no difference. It doesn’t feel like maturing…even though I know it’s going to take a few hours from now. I expect it to be drastic, something that happens in the snap of the moment. This slow drag makes me apprehensive.

Aakir’s maturation, as he said, had taken over the night. I haven’t ever put forth an inquisition regarding the mechanics of our maturing to my father ever. And I am regretting that now. He had only once informed me that it only takes a few hours of process to become mature. Then Aakir had matured right by my side. From what I know of his maturation event, he had simply suffered a burning temperature during the night. And in the morning, viola! He was as mature as any other elder in the house.

The cool air feels dulcet on my hot skin as we run. In just a few hours I’ll be mature. I let that sink in. Then I start feeling something that I have no explanation for. I feel dreadful. Exactly how many hours will it take? Will I come to be as mature as everybody else, or something may go wrong with me? Will my abilities be any match for my father once I’ll be mature, or I’ll continue to get humiliated at his hands? The worst thing in the world is when I feel that I have disappointed my father somehow. Father being father, he never expresses his letdown when I don’t meet his expectations. Everybody else tells me that he never feels the disappointment that I assume him to be feeling. But a father is bound to have some expectations from his son, no? I want to live up to those expectations. I send a silent prayer to the triple goddess who created our species, asking her to let my maturation flow by smoothly.

Still, the knowledge that I’ll be maturing in a short time doesn’t hold the ‘big deal’ feel that I have been anticipating. Probably because it has come so unexpectedly. Yeah, Terry uncle informed me last week that I may get mature soon according to my father, but still.

When we reach the house I keep running across it towards the route of our shop. It’s Friday again, our working day. Plus, I’ll like to inform my mother and Rufina aunt about this sudden development. Terry uncle and father must be at their respective jobs. Only Gwen must be at home. And I know that she is not the first person I want to inform about this.  

“Where the hell are you going?” Aakir says, stopping in front of the house.

“At the shop?” I say in a ‘duh’ tone.

“You should stay at home.”

I roll my eyes, “I am fine. What’ll I do at home, anyways? Wait for maturation like a caterpillar?”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes. “You should rest. Even if you ignore the maturation part, you are running a fever. Doesn’t that sound like a big deal? We don’t get sick.”

Yeah, I know that we as therians have very little tendency of developing a sickness. But I am feeling absolutely perfect, if a tad bit warmer. And what the hell does he mean by ‘ignore the maturation part’? What is he trying to entail? That I may not be maturing but simply running a temperature?

“I am fine.” I say exasperatedly. “Don’t be my mom.”

“Josh-”

“You got through it fine. What’s the big deal?” I cut him off.

I watch as Aakir’s ears and neck turn a little pinkish, “Actually…it tends to get a little…uncomfortable.”

I raise my eyebrows. He hasn’t told me anything about any sort of…‘uncomfortable-ness’, so to speak, during his maturation.