I Eat Rainbows

I am, and always will be, strange.

It’s not my looks, and it’s not my reputation, for I have neither. It’s not my mannerisms, for those are always perfect.

And yet, I am always strange, and always alone. Always.

I head into this new town — no, “Sheydin” is its name. Must remember that. I look around, unable to keep my optimism at bay. One young fellow waves at me, grinning impishly. This one — he is the apprentice. I catch him and ruffle his hair. He squirms free, tugging at my backpack. I swat his hand, and he runs off. The little rascal, I must remember to think of him as The little rascal.

I head to his — no, my home. I kiss – my wife, and she laughs at me, swatting me with her apron. I must remember now, for the wife always seems to be the first to suspect.

“Ma’dear! How’s ya’un the kids!”

I haven’t got the tone quite right, I can tell. Was it the gruffness? Yes, he wasn’t that gruff. I file through my thoughts and — she’s looking at me oddly. Oh no. Sweet Gods, don’t let it happen this soon! At least give me a single blessed week!

I scoop her up, and laugh boomingly, trying to make light of it. She buys it, laughs along, and jumps off and returns to her cooking. I sigh inaudibly and head upstairs, dropping off my backpack.

A novelty coin drops out, out of the pocket The little rascal’d opened. I pay it no mind and head upstairs. The boy screams “Dada!” and leaps into my arms. I spin him around once, and let him go, and he immediately runs downstairs. This is normal, I think — the kid’s getting a treat from his mother now.

I sit down on my bed — heavily, of course, this one seems incapable of anything else. The kid squeals from downstairs, and his mother’s voice filters up. I grin. I think I’m going to like living around that bundle of energy.

Moon’s Day, things went awry. I should have picked up the signs earlier, but I was careless. Happy.

I headed for the blacksmith’s, where he had worked. The little rascal was there, glaring at me. I didn’t know why. I tried to cheer him up, but he deliberately reached into the same pocket of my pack. I swatted at his hand, almost reflexively, and he leapt back as from a flame. I filed it away, but thought nothing of it.

The following day, The little rascal took his leave, to go hunting in the woods with some men. I’d have loved to go, but he wouldn’t have, so I worked away at the anvil and then headed home to my beautiful family.

It is that night. I wake up to see my wife, sobbing, attempting to smother me. Crying “Changeling”. They must’ve found the body — the rascal knew. I quickly shift to an agile form and leap out the window, marking Sheydin off my list.

I’m always strange, I said. Always found strange. Always run out when I try to be less alone.

Ah well. I look at the lights of the new city, licking a wolf bone. Bravik, maybe you’ll have me.

I am sitting. I am sitting on my couch and watching her, my baby girl. I watch her shakily rise, holding onto the appropriately ruggedised surface of the table, and suddenly become tremendously interested in the remote.

She grasps for it, and accidentally turns the tv on. This suprises her; she turns to see what has happened and falls. I’ve dived for her, but it’s too late. She doesn’t seem to notice — she’s looking wide-eyed, from the moving pictures to the plastic buttons in her hands, making the connection between the two. She giggles her charming adorable beautiful little giggle, and tries pressing another button. This one changes the channel, and she looks on in awe.

I gently reach over and grasp her, and bring her into my lap. I think she may be ignoring me, as she still hasn’t given a single sign that she knows I’m here. She presses another button, and this one turns the TV off.

I reach down to her and gently tease the remote out of her hands. She looks up at me, finally, and giggles. I smile down at her, and then lift her up and rub noses. She simply giggles and giggles, as if I’m the funniest thing she’s ever seen. That might even be true. When I pull away, her eyes gleam wickedly for a moment, and then she reaches over and grabs my nose.

I smile at her, and set her down. She lets go of my nose at the last possible second, and then immediately grabs the remote again. I try to tease it out of her hands, and she frowns and looks up at me sadly.

I stare into those sad eyes, into my sad little girl, and even as I release the remote some part of me is applauding her and cheering her on for learning what she can do this early.

I fall for it — of course I fall for it, and I know I will fall for it every single time for the years to follow. I let her have the remote. She immediately brightens up, giggles at me again, crawls out of my lap, and goes back to pressing the buttons. I smile back at her, but my heart aches. I know that this is just the beginning, that my beautiful little baby girl will grow up, and will do whatever she can to get whatever she wants. And I know that I will give it to her.

I reach over, grasp my giggling little girl, and envelope her by the waist and rest my head on hers. If that is to be, then let me spend some more time with her now. When all she wants is to play with the remote.