To Rest, or Not To Rest - Chapter 5

As night fell, the smell of frying fish drifted through the home. Oil crackled as my stomach growled in betrayal. I’d spent most of the days nibbling on broth and bread from my mother’s workplace. The scent drifting from the pan was almost cruel. Mother hummed happily as she worked on the food with a true feeling of bliss. It was faster than she’d usually work; maybe she was just showing off for our guests. I didn’t mind it too much, though, I mean, Gil is here.

I sat propped up in my seat at the head of the table, wrapped in my blanket. It’d be easy to see my appearance match that of a fragile doll. Although it was annoying, I didn’t have the power to argue against such a thought. My legs would often ache whenever I had to make the walk from my room to the kitchen, but I refused to miss such an occasion.

“Here we are.” Mother said, setting down the platter of fish. “Thank you once again, Gil. Truly. You spared me a trip to the market tomorrow after work.” Gil ducked his head quickly, acknowledging the thanks. “It was nothing, we had more than we could eat. Why not share with hard-working people like yourselves?” His voice was light as always and kind in response. Luisa had begun to pour him a drink of water, yet she almost drowned his cup in the process when she realized her stare caused such a blunder. Her hands shook badly, causing me to nearly laugh out loud. But I caught myself quickly, biting my lip in the process.

His brother interjected in the interaction. “Don’t forget, it was my idea to bring some. I said, ‘Why don’t we share with Chloe’s family? Isn’t that right, Gil?” he puffed his chest out proudly, seemingly hoping for some praise. Gil raised his eyebrow at his younger brother. “You said that after I already had the basket.” I smiled from my seat, seeing what was happening. It reminded me of something, though I couldn’t place my finger on it. “Thank you, Larry. That was very thoughtful of you.” I said, with a small laugh. This response caused him to stand up from his seat, ready to reprimand me once again. “It’s Lance, how many times do I have to keep telling you!”. The entire table laughed, Gil chuckled, Luisa smothered hers within her sleeve, and even Mother shook her head. Poor Lance was too easy to mess with, watching as his face turned red like the scales of the fish we’d been given. I assumed it to be a Red Snapper from the looks of it. I basked in yet another victory of sorts.

“Don’t encourage her…” he muttered, stabbing his fork into the fish in front of him.” Gil chuckled once more as he placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder, giving him a small word of encouragement. “You make it too easy, don’t get rattled over the smallest thing, brother. That’s how you can become strong like me!” He quickly flexed his bicep, showing off the muscles he’d gained from being a fisherman. Luisa nearly dropped her fork at the sight. I knew she liked him, but I guess it was in overdrive due to the possibility of the two attending the fair.

Dinner was a mess of laughter, clattering plates, and Mother’s constant reminders for me to eat more. I managed a few bites of the fish; they were soft and savory. It was nothing like the same boring broth I’d been trapped with eating for the week. For the first time since my first night here, I felt almost human once more. Gil then leaned back, casual as ever. “They’ve already begun setting up the stalls for the fair. I hear there’s a troupe of performers from up the coast coming this year. I wonder what act they’ll put on?”

The fair. My heart pulsed once more. I knew that this celebration was something Chloe never got to experience, sick in bed, too weak to move. I could only imagine the pain of hearing the bells and cheers from that window. The thought saddened me, as I lowered my head. That feeling must be very lonely. Suddenly, my mouth seemed to speak on its own.

“The fair…”

Luisa’s eyes flicked to me, then to Gil. “We’re going to make sure to hold out hope for Chloe to be able to attend. She’d been wanting to for ages,” she admitted softly. Mother frowned, not unkindly. “We will see, her condition is what matters the most…” Her eyes lowered as she collected the plates on the table. Their words were careful, trying not to cause me to feel upset or to lose any sense of hope. Lance quickly stood up, throwing sudden caution to the wind. “If she does go, I’ll walk with her. Making sure she doesn’t faint in the middle of the square like she usually does.” I stared at him in shock. He’d caught me off guard with the sudden proclamation. I couldn’t muster up one of my usual jokes, so I just sat there silent. Gil went on to laugh so hard that he nearly spilled his drink. “Now that’s a man’s response! Good job, brother!” Luisa looked as if she wanted to slide under the table at his response.

I sat as the laughter filled the room, looking among everyone from the head of the table. I softly pulled the blanket over myself some more, trying to hide myself from it all. What did I do to deserve such treatment? I felt a warm buzz within my chest; the fair didn’t feel like a distant dream. I’d been surrounded by laughter, good food, and loving people. Maybe things aren’t so bad after all.

As the table continued with its jests and words. I decided it’d be best to probably head to bed early, to get as much rest as possible. I’d waved to the group before heading towards the door, but something caught my eye by the small counter that the baskets sat on. Nestled between the slick silver bodies within was a scale. Not a fish’s though…It was larger, glimmering faintly like a polished pearl. The hue shifted between green and blue, depending on how the light hit it. I glanced back to see the others absorbed in conversation before quickly snatching the scale and hiding it within my blanket. A sudden jolt had struck me, slightly startling me in the process. Better to get out of here before anything comes up.

I trotted up the stairs quickly, leaving them to their own devices. Soon, the house had settled down. I’d been able to hear Luisa talking to herself in the bathroom beside our room. She’d been flustered since spending so much time with Gil. I should tease her about it later. Mother hummed to herself by the hearth of the fireplace, cleaning the dishes. The fire crackled low, filling the house with the same smell of oil and salt from dinner.

I lay tucked in the bed again, exhausted. My limbs were heavy from the walk to and from the table. Still, I couldn’t regret it. Dinner had been…warm to say the least. Noisy, full of laughter and jests. I hadn’t felt that included within banter since before Father went off to work. I sighed as my mind drifted to the scale. It sat on the windowsill. Bathing in the moonlight from the sky. Its shimmer moved along, somewhat highlighting its shine. The odd feeling I had when I grabbed it stuck with me. It was as if a jolt had struck my chest. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.

Sadly, the ache returned.

I closed my eyes, sinking my head onto the pillow. The fair. The autumn bells. The sound of music, the laughter of crowds, and the smell of roasted sweets in the air. Images I couldn’t have known suddenly flooded my mind, as if they were being pressed into it. Sharp and vivid, they struck me, along with a hollow sadness. Why would I be feeling this deeply about something I didn’t know? It was as if I’d been feeling a sense of missing out.

My throat tightened. Why did it hurt? Before coming to this world, I was Margaret, who’d never once seen this fair. I have never walked those streets in the autumn, nor had memories of such an experience. It was as if these weren’t my memories. They weren’t my feelings either. But yet, they sat within me all the same. I clutched the blanket to my chest as my eyes lay on the scale once more as if it had the answers that I’d been looking for. The longing couldn’t be mine. It wasn’t. It felt…borrowed. Like the voice pressed faintly against my own, whispering of what was lost, of what could never be.

The Chloe before me.

The thought slipped in unbidden, and my skin prickled. The girl who had lived this life first, the only one I could assume died before I came. Was this her? Was I carrying her leftover dreams? Her unfinished wishes? Was this what the fish talked about before, saying this would be a harsh journey? I could only ponder these questions as the scale pulsed faintly under the moonlight, as though agreeing with my statement.

I pressed my face into the pillow as my heart hammered. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t want to understand it. But the ache refused to fade. “Next time,” I whispered into the quiet. My voice trembled softly as a promise not wholly mine. “Next time, we’ll see it together.” The words soothed the ache, if only a little. I stood gingerly before grabbing the scale from the windowsill and placed it under my pillow. I then slipped back into the bed, slowly closing my eyes after. I’ll come to understand these things as I continue on. I don’t have the answers now. But I think it’d be best to try to follow the longing feeling within me. I could at least answer that. I went on to sleep, hoping to the heavens that this sinking feeling wouldn’t last any longer through the night. The sound of the sea’s waves flushed silently as small snores followed after.