Junkyard

19/11/2020

A/N: Excerpt from a long-ago dream.

An angel and demon perches on each of the businessman's shoulder. He waves lightly a bamboo fan, its leafy ends blowing wisps of wind. He is perched on a tall stool, like a gnarled imp, surrounded by hanging cages and Arabian lamps.

"Empty, they're all empty." I mutter dispassionately. My mother and I are looking over the wares in the businessman's store. It was my coming-of-age day and this purchase would become my lesson.

She slaps me in the back at my lack of respect. "You just wait!" She scolds.

Mother prides herself of a large bosom and backside. She has a thing for the businessman, as do all the women of the village, and has been posing by the side. The rest of her body is wrinkly and pale though, results of smoking ice.

The businessman laughs. "Hei hei hei! No need to quarrel, pretty woman." He winks at a blushing mother. Then he turns to me. "What do you think boy? See anything you like?"

I shake my head.

"Still nothing? Ehh?" The man pulls his beard.

He seemed genuinely concerned, and I was ready to call his shop a scam. No one sells legendary creatures such as angels and demons for pets! But something still bothers me – those two on his shoulders.

"Hehhh...how about these two?" He jerks two thumbs at himself. "You see them?"

I nod hesitantly.

At that, the angel crosses its arms while the demon opens a slitted eye. The businessman smiles sharply. "Didn't peg you for it. Your mother been telling me you're a naughty boy day in day out!" He says, smacking his index finger on his knee.

Mother harrumphs and turns away. "I tell you, he's probably lying right about now." She mumbles.

The businessman ignores the comment and reaches behind him. He pulls aside a curtain and takes out a silvered cage. Inside, there is an angel and demon wrestling with each other, both wearing expressions of contempt and determination. They throw each other around the cage, yet there are no sound; I feel as if this is a mirage. "These are twins, but they never get along." He hands the cage to me. "But that's all I have left."

Under my mother's watchful eye, I take the cage reverently. There is no reason not to.

"Hurry and open it up!" The businessman urges. Once open, the creatures sweep out the small opening and each perch a side on my shoulders, pulling tongues at the other below my chin.

"You lucky boy," says the businessman quietly. He slaps his knees before extending a hand. Fingers flicks impatiently in mother's direction. "That'd be a hundred flakes, pretty woman!"

Despite not getting the attention she desired, mother pays up without much fuss. She hands in a five hundred piece that gets a grin from the businessman. I roll my eyes and exit the shop first.

It is usally bright and shining in the morning, and it still is at this time. Right now, at midday, it is ten times worse, as the overhead sun glares off the silver ice on the ground. A strip of footpath cuts through, brown on white, a very visible thing. There are gigantic mounds of snow piled up nicely next to the footpaths, looking more like those trimmed bushes that the southern Asiatic people decorate their gardens with. But as we – the angel, demon, and I – squint at them, all we wanted was for our eyelids to pull down and never open up.

Behind, mother has caught up to us and is laughing loudly. The demon on my right shoulder seems to giggle, as if understanding the reason of her laughter. When I turn around, mother gives me a soft yet deadly slap on my frozen cheeks. (Thanks, mother! I think I feel a little bit warmer there.) The demon topples, cackling now, but catches itself on its black wings. I peek at the angel and find that it has crossed it arms and is wearing a disagreeable expression.

"What are you still dawdling there for? Do you need a beating, boy!" Mother shouts from the footpath ahead. I hurry over.

We trudge on in silence until we arrive back at the town. There isn't much in the town centre. It consists mainly of tent shops and huts, similar in appearance to the businessman's pet shop. The men and women in charge of the selling cocoon themselves in blankets and curtains. We walk past them, and they barely pay a glance; all parties not saying hello unless a purse is opened.

As we reach our street, mother eyes the creatures on my shoulders. They have been still for some time (Perhaps they just needed a bit of distance from each other. The cage was not a cosy place to cohabit in.) and now look uncertainly at mother's disdainful gaze. I don't think they much like her either.

"Now now, you better take good care. Right, boy?" She tuts.

The two creatures seem pretty cool, despite my lingering scepticism. The angel is so far subdued and uncaring, the demon on the other hand an obvious trickster. As if hearing my thoughts, the demon pulls a raspberry at the angel, who is nodding along. (Wait...they can hear my thoughts?!) The angel peers at me with cat-like eyes, judgement heavy in them.

"Of course I will, mother. They're cool." I reply, scratching my chin. "I think I will call the fair one 'Anoi' and this dark one 'Fol'..."

I stare down the two, now named, in delight of their anger. Names have power and they will not be able to change my mind on this.

"I mean you. I mayn't have cared so much, and still don't, so now you need to take care of yourself." Mother passes another critical eye between the three of us.

I can only nod. She is not making sense.

We lapse back to the quiet of mid-afternoon until we reach our abode. It is a basic monument made of ice – an igloo – to be exact. There are some drapers and ornaments around the exterior, but nothing over mediocre. A thick wooden beam supports the centre of the entrance, on which also hangs some leather skins.