Perception ✔

5 Lies & Tales

A lie was only as good as the lengths we were willing to go through to make it convincing.

Fifteen and armed with an unyielding appetite, Raphael sat on the barn floor, eating a carrot, utterly engrossed in Arabella's nonsense.

Edmond stood leaning against a support beam. And I? I was the unfortunate accomplice brought in to sell this tale.

I wasn't doing a very good job, sadly.

From my reluctance, one might have thought Arabella lacked talent. It was the contrary. So convincing was she, that poor Raphael believed every single falsehood her pretty head concocted.

Mother insisted she cease with her tall tales and she almost had, until she found her most captivated audience—Raphael.

Edmond, now eighteen, often flashed a pearly smile, lighting up his entire expression out of politeness.

Perhaps it was the fact that Raphael and Arabella were nearly the same age why she focused her fantastical stories on him.

For me, who had long since grown tired of believing Bella's tales only to take scolding after scolding, learned early to let her speak, and never to listen.

Raphael finished his carrot and tossed the stem. Edmond caught it.

"So he could fly? Actually fly?" Raphael marveled.

He was a boy of few words so to have him this animated for something other than mischief was rare.

"Of course. You need only believe."

Tight-lipped, I muttered her reminder, "And have magic words."

Raphael's spirits sank and Bella, still standing before him with her arms held out, her story now at an end, regarded me coolly, annoyed that I'd interrupted the 'magic' of her lie.

"You need magic words for them?" Raphael asked, disheartened.

"No." Bella lowered her hands and told him, "One moment."

She marched to me and grabbed me by the elbow with such force that I mistook her for our mother.

Raphael stood and waited.

When we were close enough to the door, Bella perched her hands on her hips, beyond angry. "Why must you do that? Why must you ruin it?"

Ruin? It was a lie.

In my mind, her stories were foolish and childish, but I hadn't the heart to tell her directly.

Instead, I said, "We're growing up now. When will you grow up?"

She leaned back, scoffing. Despite my not bringing her intelligence into question, I'd hurt her.

"It's not about growing up, sister. It's about being happy. Happiness is so fleeting. Isn't it lovely to have it in these small instances?"

Was it? I hadn't found the value quite as yet.

"Wait," Edmond called. "Wait. Come down."

"You worry so much, brother. I am a strong believer." Arms outstretched, Raphael walked the main beam up high. He jumped off, tearing a gasp from Bella who clutched my arm for dear life.

He landed safely on the upper ledge.

"Raphael!" Bella cried, her voice cracking. "It was just a story."

From this distance, his eyes held a challenge. "It was a story? But stories come from someplace. Isn't that so?"

Once he reached the top window, he shoved the shutters open and put one foot on the sill.