07-25-2013, 02:59 PM
"Zoe?!" Her voice was quieter than she had anticipated. The word was both question and exclamation, but at this point, still question. She spun around the other direction, but no sign of the bobbing dark head could be seen from that way either. No, the strong-willed little lady had definitely set off on her own adventure.
But this wasn't the outskirts of Prague where Zoe had spent her first years romping. Moscow was big, alive, thriving, and filled with the "Wrong" sorts of people. Inside her mind, she felt as though she were grasping out, reaching for something, trying within her mind to find her daughter in the crowd. Calm down. Panic won't find her. She's a smart girl and they had decided on a meeting place. But it was easier to say these things than to believe them.
Her eyes snapped open and the world around her became sharper. She was a good judge of a person to begin with, but now it was like a new light shone within her. Oh gods, no, not now! I don't have time for this! She could pick out with minute detail the world around her. She could suddenly smell the musk of the working men gathered near a door nearby and wanted to gag as it mixed with the odor of the flowers in the cart down the road. She could count the threads in the man selling the silk's fabric even from here. I knew it was a rip-off...
Maybe just this once, the light would help her. Normally, these moments of clarity terrified her. Ever since the sickness and Zoe's birth, they had come to her, and strange things always surrounded their arrival. With her mind and her heart, she reached out, searching for that familiar feeling, seeking the smell of slightly damp linen and daisies and shoe polish that for some reason was what her daughter always smelled like. She looked for that slightly golden sheen that you could only see glisten from the dark locks in the noon-day sun, surely a trait that carried over from her father's side, though this was only an assumption as Nadia had no memory of the man.
She felt like she was flowing on a river, and the river was guiding her, first a bit further down the road. There seemed to be some sort of altercation, and a police officer was leading away a large man who was swearing to the unimpressed looking Custodian that he didn't know how that money had ended up in his pocket, and surely there was some misunderstanding. A French couple were also nearby, looking slightly relieved but a bit flustered.
Still, she followed the feeling, until suddenly it swung around behind her. Discouraged, she sighed. She had been sure that she was on to something, but why would the feeling double back upon itself like that? Giving up, she turned back to head towards the omelette maker. As she walked, the feeling of the world being more clear around her stayed. She felt like she really could smell that smell that was so unique to her daughter, the lilac of the shampoo they used, but it was mixed with another smell. A smell of heavy wool and manliness and gunpowder. The two very conflicting senses felt like they moved together to this supernatural melody which rang in Nadia's ears, and while she felt more nervous than ever, she followed it right to where she found Zoe, sitting besides a very large man, eating an omelette.
As soon as her eyes confirmed that the girl was unharmed, both the pent up fear and extra sheen of color faded away. "There you are, Zo! You can't be running off like that here." She turned to the man beside her, trying to get a better read on him. Wool and gunpowder indeed. Even with her senses back to normal, she could feel the air of authority that the man exuded. But if he were a Custodian, wouldn't he be in uniform? Maybe military? Should she be thanking this man or had he played along to the girls plight in order to extract something from the relieved mother? Well, haven't you become bitter?
"Who's your friend, then?" Zoe looked up from her omelette, wrinkled her brow a little and shrugged. "I dunno, he has a lot of names and a badge. I think he's a police man. You shoulda saw him with that thief guy, mom, it was something else!"
And suddenly she had launched into an entire account of the incident with the thief. The detail which she used was impressive, if probably a bit exaggerated, but the girl was a bit of a story teller. By the time the tale was spun, an omelette had been placed before Nadia, too. "Well, that is quite the story. Thank you for helping Zoe find her way back, officer?" The last word was a bit of a question, but she had to assume by the tale that he was some sort of authority.
"No, Mom, I wasn't lost. He was helping me look for the football players, but they had left."
Ah, so THAT was what she had been up to. Nadia hoped that this urge of hers to run off would be quelled by some new friends once school began.
But this wasn't the outskirts of Prague where Zoe had spent her first years romping. Moscow was big, alive, thriving, and filled with the "Wrong" sorts of people. Inside her mind, she felt as though she were grasping out, reaching for something, trying within her mind to find her daughter in the crowd. Calm down. Panic won't find her. She's a smart girl and they had decided on a meeting place. But it was easier to say these things than to believe them.
Her eyes snapped open and the world around her became sharper. She was a good judge of a person to begin with, but now it was like a new light shone within her. Oh gods, no, not now! I don't have time for this! She could pick out with minute detail the world around her. She could suddenly smell the musk of the working men gathered near a door nearby and wanted to gag as it mixed with the odor of the flowers in the cart down the road. She could count the threads in the man selling the silk's fabric even from here. I knew it was a rip-off...
Maybe just this once, the light would help her. Normally, these moments of clarity terrified her. Ever since the sickness and Zoe's birth, they had come to her, and strange things always surrounded their arrival. With her mind and her heart, she reached out, searching for that familiar feeling, seeking the smell of slightly damp linen and daisies and shoe polish that for some reason was what her daughter always smelled like. She looked for that slightly golden sheen that you could only see glisten from the dark locks in the noon-day sun, surely a trait that carried over from her father's side, though this was only an assumption as Nadia had no memory of the man.
She felt like she was flowing on a river, and the river was guiding her, first a bit further down the road. There seemed to be some sort of altercation, and a police officer was leading away a large man who was swearing to the unimpressed looking Custodian that he didn't know how that money had ended up in his pocket, and surely there was some misunderstanding. A French couple were also nearby, looking slightly relieved but a bit flustered.
Still, she followed the feeling, until suddenly it swung around behind her. Discouraged, she sighed. She had been sure that she was on to something, but why would the feeling double back upon itself like that? Giving up, she turned back to head towards the omelette maker. As she walked, the feeling of the world being more clear around her stayed. She felt like she really could smell that smell that was so unique to her daughter, the lilac of the shampoo they used, but it was mixed with another smell. A smell of heavy wool and manliness and gunpowder. The two very conflicting senses felt like they moved together to this supernatural melody which rang in Nadia's ears, and while she felt more nervous than ever, she followed it right to where she found Zoe, sitting besides a very large man, eating an omelette.
As soon as her eyes confirmed that the girl was unharmed, both the pent up fear and extra sheen of color faded away. "There you are, Zo! You can't be running off like that here." She turned to the man beside her, trying to get a better read on him. Wool and gunpowder indeed. Even with her senses back to normal, she could feel the air of authority that the man exuded. But if he were a Custodian, wouldn't he be in uniform? Maybe military? Should she be thanking this man or had he played along to the girls plight in order to extract something from the relieved mother? Well, haven't you become bitter?
"Who's your friend, then?" Zoe looked up from her omelette, wrinkled her brow a little and shrugged. "I dunno, he has a lot of names and a badge. I think he's a police man. You shoulda saw him with that thief guy, mom, it was something else!"
And suddenly she had launched into an entire account of the incident with the thief. The detail which she used was impressive, if probably a bit exaggerated, but the girl was a bit of a story teller. By the time the tale was spun, an omelette had been placed before Nadia, too. "Well, that is quite the story. Thank you for helping Zoe find her way back, officer?" The last word was a bit of a question, but she had to assume by the tale that he was some sort of authority.
"No, Mom, I wasn't lost. He was helping me look for the football players, but they had left."
Ah, so THAT was what she had been up to. Nadia hoped that this urge of hers to run off would be quelled by some new friends once school began.