Things I Wrote at One Time or Another

The Arcana; "and in between we garden," pt. iv

☀︎︎ | and in between we garden, pt. iv

☀︎︎

About a week or so pass by; early afternoons spent hassling around sizable dressers and chairs, digging through piles of abandoned trinkets, weighing the sentimental value by the bat of an eyelash, and snacking on pastries one would bring from the market until their stomachs coerced them into calling it a day.

Muriel's makeshift cover for the roof held fast, charmed by the markings he had carved into it. If they never got around to fixing it, come another storm that floral plank would remain. The two young men amused themselves by watching him install it, lounging along the grass to bask in the coming spring.

Rain came in the middle of one of their days, calling them to rush and collect all the things they had placed outside. They did their best to recover most of them: Nihm, old clothes, storybooks, sheets and the like. Issa's old textbooks were almost soaked completely through. They spent the next day trying to air them out without tearing them to pieces.

All in all, they were lively hours spent. Luca had seemed to regain his usual manner; his tendency to strike up a melody when it felt fitting (or not at all appropriate), his beaming countenance and optimistic ramblings which seemed to flow back into their lives. His addresses to Asra were still contained, but regained their brotherly tenderness and wicked teasing. No more flustered moments rendered speechless (he did have the habit of burning up at the slightest look, but managed to compose himself quick enough to brush his friend's advances aside).

Their progress followed thus: with the roof covered, the sitting room was well to work in. They tidied the space, did what they could to fix the broken floorboards, filled in the holes and cracks in the wall with homemade plaster, repurposed old useless furniture, fixed the main bookshelf, returned all the books, and washed and beat the carpet clean.

The kitchen was rough—they cleaned out the cupboards, threw everything away as it was long past spoiled. They were missing a chair for the table so there was only three of them. Luca and Asra went out to fix the well past the cottage—purifying the water and planned to get a new bucket and rope. For now, they'd do their best with the one they had so they could drink. They tore down the dusty old curtains, Luca could probably convince Alma to spare some new ones.

They swept and scrubbed the halls, the floors, and the staircase, cleaned the windows, hunted down bugs to set them free—Luca came across a Daddy Long Legs which prompted him to sing an old ditty while Muriel frantically expelled it from the home:

"Here's Lola — ta da! — to do
her famous Spider Dance for you!
Lighten up your pockets!
Shake her skirts and scatter, there,
a shrieking, six-legged millionaire
with a blight in his sockets."*

It was many of satirical (and slightly inappropriate) songs Luca had learned from Issa, and one of the few the other two knew very well. The old man often performed the entire song at the Rowdy Raven, to which he'd end up mumbling again in the morning once they all awoke from their midsummer slumber.**

Luca and Asra found it fitting, bidding the poor arachnid adieu as it crawled awkwardly out of view into the grass.

All they had left was the garden, Luca's old bedroom, and Issa's bedroom.

The thought of cleaning through Issa's bedroom left a terrible feeling in Luca's chest, only minuscule to the wretched pain he felt on the very first day. As if hearing the tear of his heart, Asra suggested they start with Luca's room—an easier feat as it was left practically untouched save for the dust and bugs.

Muriel took this opportunity—as the work was beginning to slow—to carry home the scraps of wood, unwanted furniture, and "gifts" that Luca had offered him. The gifts themselves had little use in the gentle giant's home—a tea set, a book on herbs (which he already knew plenty of), and some of Issa's wooden cats (to which Muriel was actually privy to).