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A Fistful of Dust
72. Day 365: One Year Older

72. Day 365: One Year Older

Paul

It felt like they’d traveled back in time. Before tragedy, before disaster, before everything spiraled out of control to when they were just seven kids on an extended camping trip. Wendi was herself, even if she didn’t remember them. Kenta calmed after returning to the road. Cassie no longer disappeared for days. Rana finally relaxed… or was she tired?—hard to tell with someone who never let herself yawn. Lea seemed like the old ‘her’ but more driven.

They laughed together, played cards together, and kept silent about recent events. That’s how they spent those first days after Radio World, blissfully unaware they were flying blind. That their guiding light had blindfolded himself. That they were stumbling through random chance hoping not to bump into something Cassie couldn’t Hear, or Rana hide from.

Guilt wracked Paul’s nerves. Not from putting their lives at risk; they’d do that without him. Not from the false sense of security he gave them. It was from lying to Daniel. It was that he couldn’t look Kenta in the eye and say they had no chance of finding Harumi.

False hope was better than no hope.

In this state, they arrived on the 365th day. During the afternoon, they heard the strange noise of someone repeating, “Beep, beep, beep…” on a loop. Paul’s voice.

“It’s a timer,” he said, generating more confusion. “Our anniversary for leaving the Facility. I don’t know my birthday or most of yours, so I picked today.” Silence and looks of consideration or calculation. “It’s safe to say we’re all one year older.”

They looked at each other, forced to consider how much they’d changed. Sure, they were taller, but their growth manifested in so many different ways.

Recent months thinned Lea but hadn’t stopped her inexorable transformation from child to woman. Paul decided on the word ‘Full,’ like a waxing moon. Her hair was full and lustrous instead of tied and bound. She filled the space around her, never out of place or alone when standing by herself. Her lips were always full with a self-assured smile or private joke. Lea’s presence filled her choice of clothes, confident in blouses and skirts that made other girls her age look like they were playing dress-up.

Kenta kept meticulous control of his appearance, avoiding teen awkwardness through care and vigilance. He’d perfected his look—black pants and vest with a white button-up shirt. The slack red tie, his loose posture, and the few casual creases were purposeful, artistically maintained imperfections. He’d go over, check, and recheck these things several times a day. Paul felt jealous of the stubble Kenta willed away each morning with a wave of the hand to stay ‘clean-shaven.’ Not to mention the growing muscles finally catching up with his height.

In comparison, Cassie’s growth made her skinnier, longer-limbed, and gawkier. Despite knowing this, her demand for free range of motion restricted the bat girl to sleeveless tops and shorts. She experimented with color and style, though she hid behind her tightly wrapped wings on the ground. However, Paul couldn’t deny she had a cute face and expressive dark eyes. He had to stop himself from smiling around her.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Wendi gave no thought to her appearance. Her clothes were necessities, hair ignored to fall as it would. A loose top and baggy shorts left her arms and legs free to work, occasionally showing her bra straps as she moved. Not that she looked bad. In fact, she possessed the careless and casual charm Kenta worked to manufacture. It was innocence and a kind heart.

Acne struck Daniel hardest. Yet, his outbreaks didn’t inhibit him the way they would Paul. Daniel didn’t act self-conscious; he looked you straight in the eye and went on with what needed doing. He continued to gain height on Paul while remaining woefully bony. While his outfits varied, he gravitated towards the dark robe that he gradually grew into.

Rana changed the least. After the others’ growth spurts, Rana became their shortest member. However, adolescence wrought subtle changes in her face and body shape, polishing childhood’s rough edges into a smooth river stone. Rana preferred short, neutral outfits to emphasize her amphibian colors and bare her muscled limbs. She daily honed her athletic figure with the diligence of a mechanic preparing their car for an extended trip.

Though they’d survived the year and gotten stronger, Paul would be severely disappointed if he expected cheers and celebration. Instead, heads hung low, sighing as they trudged onward. Their time capsule from a happier age became a bitter reminder. The news they’d been wandering for a whole year with, in their eyes, nothing to show for it left a morose cloud over the company.

He shook off the gloom. “I made you all presents. I know the subject is sensitive,” he opened his Pwyll’s Pouch and started taking things out, “But please accept these gifts with my good intentions.”

“I didn’t get you anything…” Daniel objected, then got a good look as Paul set something on the ground. Persephone. In wax. The way Paul remembered her, holding hands with a little boy, a look of pure love on her face. He stared for a long time. “I never thought to ask.”

Paul hugged his friend despite the pain of the young angel’s touch. Daniel’s tears boiled his wax, stinging and sizzling, but the moment was worth it.

“You do have a talent.” Daniel laughed and sniffled as he wiped his face. Wendi helped him store the treasure.

The candle boy turned to Cassie and gave her a sculpture of Nyctea, wings sheltering a bat girl. “It’d be weird to give everyone else presents now and have you wait a few weeks for yours.”

“I wish I had my owl plushie instead, but it’s the thought that counts. You did good, Paul.”

“Rana,” he said as he gave her a life-size figurine of Bufo the toad. She took it and nodded to him while stroking the bumpy back of the waxen amphibian.

Next came Kenta holding a smiling Harumi with his hair. The young Kaminoke took the statuette from Paul and examined it. After a few stony seconds, his lip trembled, and a tear slipped free. “I will strengthen my resolve.” The two of them firmly clasped their hands to each other’s shoulders.

“Lea.”

The Libra girl didn’t look at the smiling busts of John and Gaja he handed over.

“My deepest gratitude, Paul. I shall not forget this.”

Disappointing as her reaction was, he hoped his gift might help his friends’ private grieving in some small way.

“Wendi.”

“Yes?”

“Here,” he reached into his Pwyll’s Pouch, and everyone tensed. Then, Paul retrieved a bust of Ziege.

“Who’s this?” Wendi asked as she accepted the gift.

Daniel leaped to answer, “Your sister. She died prior to your… accident.”

“Wow, that’s sad!” the Caprid girl turned and angled the bust to get a good look without further reaction.

:How reckless can you get!: Cassie sent. :I don’t Hear any sign of the Wendigo, but that was beyond dangerous, Paul!:

The others gave Paul private messages of admonishment, except for Daniel. His focus never left Wendi. When the threat passed, Daniel gave Paul a solemn nod with eyes of gratitude.

Then they heard the soft sound of water droplets hitting the ground.

Wendi cried twin rivers, a puzzled expression on her face. The tears must have tickled her chin because she brushed her face with a finger, surprised by the moisture.

“Allergies?”