Night came, and his mom, exhausted from her double shift, had spent little time talking to him about his day. She was glad to note his friends came over and equally happy the house was still tidy, but beyond that she didn’t ask anything more detailed.
He watched her as she said goodnight to him. She hardly spoke over dinner and seemed drained of energy. Andrew realized that mom too, was still grieving, but she was burying it into her work. He didn’t know much about grownups except that they always seemed stressed out about stuff, and he hoped he didn’t have to grow up so quickly. His moody thoughts turned towards his dad and he decided to quickly snap out of it. His day had been wonderful, and he didn’t need to feel down and sad again.
Dad would understand, and besides, if he were here, he would be equally mystified by the egg and trying to dig out its secrets too. Andrew decided he would go to bed early, but he would first spend more time with that egg. It was a mystery and once he cracked it, he could share the marvelous egg discoveries with mom. Perhaps that would bring them both some joy.
Eager to unravel the secrets of the egg, Andrew spent countless hours with it over the following days, trying to communicate and understand its purpose. He kept it hidden from mom, which was easy since she hardly paid attention.
He spoke to it softly, pouring out his thoughts and feelings, as if hoping it would listen and offer some form of solace, a response to affirm that what he heard hadn’t been imagined. Throughout the time he nestled the egg in his hands, it emitted a warm golden glow that pulsed from time to time.
The soft warmth of it flowing along his hands and sometimes into them. That feeling really tingled, but he found it did no harm, in fact he felt revitalized and supercharged. His mind racing with possibilities. Despite his best efforts though, He still could not get the egg to communicate with him with words. The closest he got to any form of bond were those gentle pulses of comfort.
At first, there was absolute silence from it, leaving Andrew frustrated, and he had to fight the twinge of disappointment which came after handling it. He refused to give up, although sometimes he wanted to put it away and ignore it. Whenever he reached that stage, he would remember that plea for help that cried out in his head. This brought back his determination and he would begin anew. Eventually deciding that perhaps it needed to learn his language, or at least learn what he liked to do in his spare time. With that in mind he began reading his favorite books aloud to the egg, sharing tales of adventures, friendship, courage. He hoped that through the power of imagination he would be able to rekindle the telepathic connection again.
The egg began to glow without his direct touch now, building in intensity until he did touch it and then it would subside to a subtle glow, seemingly comforted. To his surprise, as he read more stories to it, he noticed a subtle change in the egg's glow, as if it also responded to the words he spoke. He noticed when he got to the scary parts with evil villains, the egg's color would change to a darker color, closer to red and purple, but when he read about the might of the knights and the pureness of the paladins, it shined with a wholesome golden yellow.
Encouraged by this newfound connection, Andrew continued to read to the egg each day, choosing stories filled with hope and resilience, of which there were many. Dad had always encouraged him to read about Arthur and his knights of the round table, also of other adventures where Kings and Queens ruled and knights were their right arm, dispatching justice for the good of the kingdom. They were his favorite books and he was glad to share them with the egg.
Gradually, he started hearing faint whispers in his mind, as if the egg was trying to communicate with him. The words were still garbled and unclear, but Andrew could make out fragments and the occasional word sounded almost like he should understand it, but it was never quite clear enough. Then after the third day and he was back from school he made a breakthrough.
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While holding it and staring into the mesmerizing patterns, feeling the golden glow ebb and flow, some of it passing into his fingers, he felt a shift. It was not subtle. It was as if he suddenly heard every sound enhanced, as if the volume button on the world had been turned to eleven. Admittedly, before when he handled the egg, he had felt enhanced in some way, still sensing motion beyond his ability to see, but this time it was different. This time everything he perceived seemed somehow more crisp, clear and detailed like never before. The very air he breathed filled with scents both known and many unknown. He could smell the burned toast crumbs from his lunch, a subtle shift in the air wafted the familiar scent of home, the house filled with all the comforts he knew and loved, but then he gagged as the odor of his shoes filled his nose.
“Yuck!” He would have to clean those soon. He looked towards the window and the sounds of the forest leaked in a vibrant display of his new super hearing and suddenly through all the overwhelming power of enhanced senses, he hear a whisper, a voice he thought he recognized, and it said “Come…., Come to me Andrew we are waiting for you.”
At this point Andrew promptly dropped the egg. He was so startled by the overload to his mind, that he nearly got up to throw the egg out the window. What had just happened? Despite the fact that he had been aching to bond with the egg and get some form of communication going, deep in the back of his mind he hadn’t actually believe it would work. Part of him had even thought it to be a childhood fantasy, almost a joke. And yet now that he thought about it, he had also always known it could speak to him.
The idea made him a little afraid. What would mom say? Should he respond to the egg? Who were they, that they knew his name? He thought it was Willow’s voice he had heard, but he was only guessing at that. It knew his name. Although that was hardly surprising, he hadn’t thought about anything else since he got the egg and it had seeped that warm golden glowing stuff into him. What had dad always said? ‘Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind!’ Perhaps this wasn’t a good thing he was doing?
Well, whatever. He had done it. And would continue to do it. Despite his fear and trepidation. His curiosity was way stronger and he needed to know more. He reached down to pick up the egg. It throbbed reassuringly, leaking its essence into him and again that heightened sense of awareness filled him. No longer were his surroundings muted as before. Everything seemed to shout, to resound with life and purpose. He stood for a minute completely transfixed by the sheer presence of everything around him. The textures in the sofa, the subtle coating of dust on the mantle.
“Yay, superpowers!” was all he could say out loud to himself before a pounding headache built in the back of his head. Andrew quickly placed the egg back in his drawer, deciding that for today, he had had enough.
He left his room and tried to make a snack. Every moment away from the egg was like a subtle torture. At least the headache was diminishing. He wondered if people on drugs had the same compulsion. He was constantly drawn to the egg as if it called to him. His body wanted to absorb the golden stuff and he wanted to feel those heightened senses again. Yet somehow he resisted. Showing his stubborn streak.
Dad always said you should control your urges, "bide your time and make sure things happened in their proper place and order." he would say. It had been a bit abstract in the way he explained it and Andrew wasn’t sure if he really was waiting for a special time or if he was just being obstinate. The egg was very much a part of his life now and a part of him. He would have to give in to the feeling sooner or later, but not now. He had to show that he was the one in control. He was the one deciding when they could merge. Whomever was waiting for him could wait a little longer. The question now was if he could wait. He decided that he could.
With a smile of satisfaction that what he was doing was right, creating a boundary that would keep him in control of his fate, he made a sandwich and sat again on the sofa. He had to stop his fingers from seeking out the textures in the fabric. Much muted than what they had been earlier, but now that he was aware of them, that they existed, he couldn’t help but marvel at the feeling under his fingertips. His new awareness that things were more than just things, and that things were much more than they appeared, inspired him to clean up a bit more.
It was of course a distraction, but Mom would appreciate it, and certainly his nose would too if he took out the garbage and cleaned his shoes before he used the egg again. Taking the silver lining of his newfound situation Andrew devoted the rest of his afternoon to making sure the house was spic and span before mom woke up for her night shift. He was nicely rewarded by her that evening. She smiled that contented smile he had missed so much, and as a reward for his efforts she baked a cake with his help, and yes, she even let him lick the batter bowl clean.