Priya Echo's Adventure - Part 15

CHAPTER 48 - COMPANIONS - PRIYA AND SNOW - HONEYSUCKLE HOUSE

Almost tripping over a garden gnome, Priya continued up the driveway until seeing the cottage, its white exterior peeking out from underneath the vines of honeysuckle that had enveloped it like a floral spiderweb. “Snow must still be asleep” she thought, creaking open the front door. Unwanted articles of clothing lay abandoned on the staircase. The family that dwelt there had certainly left in haste. “Hey!” Priya called out, but her daughter refused to answer. More of the vine weaved circuitously through the dwelling, over family portraits and across wallpaper, overpowering the patterns that hid beneath. Supple honeysuckle clusters offered themselves like maidens shackled to their vines. “Doesn’t look like she’s in the television room, better check the upstairs” Priya thought. Each of the bedrooms, however, were thoroughly empty. “If you just want to stay inside today, that’s fine, but I need to know where you are!” Priya shouted. From the corridor she heard the pattering of feet and quiet laughter. Peeking back out of the room into the hall, it was bare save for fresh imprints on the carpet that traced down the stairwell. “Ah, so that’s how it’s going to be,” Priya sighed, following them to wherever they might lead. Snickers emanated from inside the closet, and she opened it, seeing the woman inside speaking to shadows, her hair disheveled, her clothes unkempt. “Darling … are you hiding?” Priya asked. “It’s got to be somewhere in here …” Snow said, moving her arms diligently. Squinting, her mother looked closer and saw how she was picking the clusters for their nectar. “Everyone’s probably having lunch by now, Snowflake, did you want to come outside?”. Snow twisted around and looked at her through strands of hair that fell over her face. Her eyes were wild, credulous, childlike, “Not until I find the answer”. Hearing this, the mother dragged her by the arm out into the living room, and fixed her hair, “What are you talking about, hon? Let’s just go outside already, come on”. Snow began picking some of the flowers that were growing on the couch, slurping up the nectar, “No! I can’t leave. The answer is hiding in the nectar of one of these honeysuckles. I have to go throughout the entire house to find it. This is my system. I’m doing it by vine”. “I don’t get it, what are you looking for?” Priya demanded gruffly, exasperated at how the day was going nowhere. At this the daughter swiveled her neck, opened her mouth, and stuck out her tongue so she could see the undissolving jewel of the Ice-Multiplex resting upon it, glittering with six-fold symmetry, “My purpose”. Priya put her hands on her hips, like an instructor insulted by a thoughtless answer, “Snow, you have to invent a purpose, that’s what life is about”. “It’s hiding in the honeysuckle. It’s in one of these little drops” Snow assured her, continuing her quest at one of the vines that slithered across the wall. Funny that they would not touch the windows, but traced around, allowing a most pleasant, light-soaked view of the world outside. It was undiluted, where even the feral green spread its limitless body towards town. “That’s easy for you to say, mother. You aren’t the manifestation of a chemical reaction. Who are you to say the purpose isn’t in a little drop of nectar?” she huffed, tossing a family portrait onto the floor after finishing its cluster. The glass cracked like a snail shell stepped upon by a fat shoe. “Snowflake … if I help you find the mystery, will you come outside and be with us?” her mother asked, humoring her childishness for the sake of time, and she nodded in agreement. “You can start with the vine over there” the patron directed.
“I suppose life has been cruelest to you” Priya thought as she picked one of the honeysuckles and dabbed a drop onto her tongue. Snow came uncomfortably close, grinning eagerly at her first effort. “So, each of these leads to somewhere” she deduced as the walls of the house began to fade. Her daughter took it as well, and before they knew it, they were in a new city, in a parking-lot full of wannabe luxury vehicles. From the building came trotting out another Snow, this one in suspenders and dorky glasses. “Hi, I’m Snowie” she announced, shaking each of their hands rather hard. “Are you a used car salesman?” Snow asked shyly, to which Snowie slapped her shoulder, “You betcha!”. The newcomers were ushered into a model which she assured them was fresh off the factory floor, and took it for a test drive down a long road that ran parallel to the city. “This is the next-gen Nordic class air conditioning system, probably one of the best features” Snowie told them, fiddling on the dashboard. “Watch out for that lion on the road!” Priya yelped, and the car screeched to the left. It bore sharp fangs as they veered. “Mom, relax. This is mostly just a hallucination” Snow said as she lowered the window and laid her elbow out of it, twisting the steering wheel with just one hand. Ignoring Priya, Snowie turned to the driver, studying her, “Did I mention that you have very white teeth, that’s a good judge of character in a person”. “Oh, you know … I brush at least twice a day,” Snow bragged. They stopped briefly at a light for a group of people wearing pajamas to cross. More lions sleeping in bubbles hovered nearby. By the passenger’s window a hermit crab carrying a string of sausages offered to sell her one, and she traded an onsuru coin. It tasted of pork fed with freshwater scallops and a hint of basil licorice. Seeing the seat to her right had a picnic basket, Priya opened it and saw that inside was the engine of the vehicle … then quickly closed it and put it back where she found it. “Now I think we’re ready for a shortcut” Snow said as they passed a local park, and spun the car around, barreling through and shredding the green. People playing tennis gasped as they wove through, and more lions appeared that sped away to safety. A grandmother in a nightgown ran out into the fray and hit one of the lions in the head with a wooden rolling pin because it was late for supper. “That’s enough, stop the car right here!” Priya demanded, and they came to a screeching halt near a wide flight of stairs that led to another level. Slamming the door behind her, she got out and paced away to where the railing was, walking onto the first step. “Ah, don’t be like that” Snow beseeched as the salesman trailed behind. From the top flight an old timer shuffled down, eagerly plucking a tennis ball from a white beard. He must have been eager to play, since he ignored their plight completely. A primal mote of consequence. Whilst the two of them were bickering Snowie tapped her shoulder, “Excuse me mam, is this your thermos?”, handing it over gracefully. As soon as Priya opened it, streamers and glitter flew out, spattering over her shoulders. Reveling at the prank, Snowie slapped her knee and burst with laughter, “Haha … thought you just needed a little something to relax there, mam”. The daughter shirked away, seeing her mother was glaring at her with those unforgiving eyes. “I’m done here” Priya said, and as she walked away, the place that was the realm lost focus and was replaced by the room. “Well, I guess my purpose wasn’t in there, let’s try another” Snow implored. She pulled her mother by the arm from the couch where she had collapsed in agony of the dumbness of the day. “You know what, maybe life hasn’t been cruel enough to you” Priya said as she was forced onto her feet.
For the time being they decided to have tea. As Snow sipped her herbal, she saw that more precocious squirrels, although they were not invited, had decided to romp about the room. “Their population has skyrocketed since the epidemic,” Priya noted. “They would make excellent friends, mom. I think I’ll call this one George” Snow considered, patting the head of one sitting on the napkin. When they were done, they retired back to the wall where another vine awaited them, sharing in another droplet and waited for the walls to disintegrate, shepherding them into the hallucination. Incrementally, the faces of a crowd appeared as snippets latched together, but not in the ordinary fashion. Desiring disunion, quadrants of space segmented off from one another. “Darling, would you say that your vision is different here?” Priya asked, turning towards her. A hairy tarantula looked back, its compound eyes delicate like a lady’s, its legs slender, adolescent. “Ahh!” shouted the other spider in fright, dancing for a bit before coming to terms with her own evolution. “If we are going to be like this, promise me you won’t tell anyone” she pleaded while waving her front legs to-and-fro. “Darling, believe me, when we get back, my fangs are sealed,” she assured her. Gradually, the air around them became fertile with sound – cordial, cyclical, resonating to the rafters. “Mom, this is classical,” the delicate one discerned excitedly. Posh night-on-the-towners had disguised themselves as aristocrats, and they were really posh-ing it up to the furthest posh-able extent. Behind them the oblivious conductor swung his baton, unfettered by the constraints of typical life and the cold-blooded science that underlies it. “Let’s crawl down to the ground really quick and make our way out of here” the younger counseled. Slowly they made their way down the music-sheet. For a moment the air was still, and they looked around thinking, “What is this shadow?” until the conductor, seeing their sneaky endeavors leant back his hand, and with a merciless blow snapped his baton against the paper. Folded into a surface, the two of them plopped onto the ground. Priya stretched herself and blinked profusely, as blinking had become much more of a labor with eight eyes. Around them, the ground was made of overlapping music sheets. Noticing the landscape, patterns of ink and absence made blinking a calming, hushing thing. Doves escaped en masse from the canopies of the surrounding trees and made their way into a tin of sour cream. Turning onto its side, it rolled towards them, and inside was solid sour cream solidified from the doves, and it molded itself into the porcelain face of a woman. “How are you getting in so often? Ah … this town is becoming a tourist trap” she complained. Nearby a roman statue of a woman moved to the whimper of the music. For a minute Priya was distracted by the hypnotic effect of her ornaments. Annoyed, the delicate youngster cried, “That art is disrespectful!” and scuttled over to the statue, pushing it over. Fragments of marble scattered across the black and white polka-dot ground. “Snow! What has gotten into you?” Priya protested.
Sliding out of its container the porcelain head examined the jumbled wreckage, “Don’t worry, it’s not like a priceless antique or anything”. Priya rolled all eight of her eyes. “What precisely is your name, if you don’t mind me asking?” Snow inquired. “Hank-Helga. I suppose you all came here to see the Violin Club … it’s at the center of town” the tin, bobbing appropriately added. “Hmm … why did your parents give you both a boy and a girl name” she pried. “They didn’t know what I would be, so they thought to cover both bases. Are you done with the personal questions?” Hank-Helga retorted. “Oh, there is more where that came from” Snow teased as they angled towards a path that would bring them to town. Picked up by a passing breeze, the music sheets fluttered by, accenting a sign beaming its tonic in neon light. By the way, Hank-Helga insisted that they stop at an outlet liquor store. A friendly sculptor by the entrance spoke to the porcelain head, and by her request tapped her nose with his hammer and chisel, sending cracks across its surface for it to break apart, eggshells of porcelain littering the ground. Hank-Helga appeared as the dust settled to the ground and shrouded the prose below their feet. She had short gray hair and tattoos of doves and sour cream and porcelain heads. Inside security cameras swiveled along the sides of the walls. “Don’t look their way,” she warned. A wine sampler told them as he poured them a glass of how he escaped from an island of connoisseurs, and of how their wine was made of holograms … so it didn’t really matter. “I didn’t know bugs had a taste for wine” he noted as he poured Priya’s glass to the very top. “Humid Delay was his name, if I recall” Hank-Helga mentioned as they browsed another aisle. “I’ve seen a lot of tourists in my day, but I have to admit to you that I had an ulterior motive, my friends,” their guide broke to them gently, “this is probably the most fortified store in the city, and only the best escape”. She pointed up above them, to a wine bottle, and saw it floating towards the cupola, evading the security cameras. Extending a telescope, Hank-Helga peered through and tracked the progress of the bottle until it found a very loose section in the ceiling for its escape, “Getting into the club will be easy if you nab me some of those ''. Priya and Snow made their way up a wall to the ceiling, past the visages of classical art, weaving a web to catch the most cunning varieties, trapping them like flies, and wrapped them in silk for safekeeping. “By the way, my real name is Helga-Hank'' she revealed halfheartedly, before loading a bundle into a backpack and zipping it up. When they left the front door, the delicate spider turned to the larger, hairier one, “It’s really a bummer today, I'm tired of being a spider”. Behind them the door gave off its signature clack. The three of them turned around as the connoisseur stood in the threshold, boldly intruding on their conversation, “Sometimes you can just swish it around”. In his hand he held a glass of wine, its cherry hue not staining it, but leaving it glossy and savagely opaque. “Swish around what?” Snow asked, a little flummoxed by the tangent. Humid Delay smiled in a way that would make trapeze artists lose their balance and slurped a meager portion of wine, “The day”. Moving the glass in a tight circle, the liquid within became a vortex, and the world around them did the same, the particles of the hallucination tumbling all over the place. Priya opened her eyes to see that they were in the midst of the heart of the city. “My body!” her daughter exclaimed, seeing that they had both resumed their former evolutionary shapes. And so they roved the streets, where crowds frothed about, passing locals who wore oven mittens on their heads. Each had an oval cut out for their faces. “Don’t even think about pulling off those mittens,” Priya warned her daughter. By the curb a man bought a piece of pink chewing gum from a newspaper salesman and tossed it into his mouth, blowing a bubble that became a pink car, and ushered his family inside. It rode away down the endless street and did not pop. Noticing an approaching danger, Helga-Hank pushed them under an overhang as a big oven mitten filled with a hydra of snakes passed by. It was really just snake mitten ambassador traveling downtown on his official duties, but they didn’t know that. As the scary thing passed, they revealed themselves from the safety of the overhang. “Whew, talk about a guy that needs a makeover” Echo whispered, as the safety of the moment returned. Following their guide, a procession brought them to a district gilded with purposeful bronze. Lines of the crowd were roped off around a Violin the size of a stage that must have been shined that very morning. Escorted, they came to the front of the line. From within they could hear the pounding of dance music. Swaggering over to the Violin, Snow peered into the F-Holes and turned back towards her. “If there’s anyone that deserves to let off a little steam, it’s me,” she boasted. Convinced by the sentiment, Priya let her reservations subside and likewise looked down into the party, seeing it full of dancers, all of them in cool leather getups. Nobody wore mitten hats, and all of their faces were quite clear. Looking back one last time, she could see in the tired evening sky the hopelessness of fool’s gold. The distant roar of applause could be heard emanating from even far away as yoyos glided through the clouds. Their tricks were totally sick and they could do “walk-the-dog". Grabbing her arm, Snow led her into the Violin Club and they danced, letting the club-hoppers bounce off of them. “Watch me swish!” Snow exclaimed, and the others circled around as she unleashed some frosty dance moves … until time whirled and the moment melted and they were back in the room just seconds before their arrival.
The light from outside the window cast itself languidly onto the furniture. Their minute patterns became decipherable, tiny indentations of cushioning. Frays of threads that would linger, unnoticed. Speckles of crumbs of dust. A moth hunted for enigmatic loci of light and shadow in the hills of a couch seat. “For the sake of time, I think it’s best if we split up to cover more ground” Priya submitted, until her daughter relented. In the next honeysuckle room, she came upon a box containing an entomology collection, long pins spearing long-dead butterflies. Moving closer, the pins became towers, and the nearer towards it, the more of a city it became. Light generated by the beating of the butterfly wings ignited the windows of the towers. Rising in an elevator to the ball-like crown of the pin, she came upon a distinguished sixty-something in his estate, and they had a long talk, although he didn’t believe much of what she reminisced of. Afterwards the traveler attended an auction in the neighboring pin-tower, winning a volume of a much-rumored book.
When she returned, the room was empty, save for a few scampering squirrels exploring the contents of kitchen cabinets. “Do you really want to play hide and seek again!” Priya called fretfully, her voice bouncing off the tapestried walls to no avail. Certainly, her youngling must be occupied in another room where she had not cared to look before. Priya headed up the stairs and to the left, checking the rooms for signs of the runaway. Thoughts whispered from days of the past, appearing out of thin air. Sam had been very spiffy in his brown blazer, and at the time the sight of him was like a subtle virus infecting her dreams. She would have devoured fate to be with him. “Oh, goodness!” Priya blurted. With all that had happened so recently, the detail of finding a way to free him from his tomb had fallen out of favor. “Mom, are you spying on me!” Snow called, throwing the accusation out into the hall. The scientist turned the corner and pushed the door open into the bathroom. Snow laughed brazenly as she was hard at work giving George a bubble-bath. The little guy looked so content with his gray fur covered in bubbles. “There you are. I was worried about you” Priya huffed. “I decided to take a break to help my squirrel with his bath-time. He’s my new best friend” she said, scrubbing his coat with glee. “Where have I seen this before?” Priya thought as the implication washed over her. “No!” she cried, but it was too late ... as a pulse of energy cascaded through the room. Moments later the little guy’s head bobbed down, as if fainted. Frantically the runaway shook him in her hands, drawing her head near to listen, but even in his eyes she could see nothing but false color, and he reclined across her palm, limp like a ragdoll. “Do you even realize what you did!” her mother scolded. Panic stricken, Snow lay the squirrel on the counter and wiped the clusters of bubbles from her hands onto the ledge of the bathtub, “What just happened?”. Priya took a long deep breath before relating to her the mistake, and its awesome consequences, “Be careful. This new turbulence is unlike anything we’ve encountered before. With such a small coincidence … my dear … there’s no way you could have seen it … unless you were me. I’m sorry. From now on, you have to think about the consequences. Look at George, he enjoyed the bubble bath so much his mind astral projected out of his body. It will descend through time, going back into the past until finding a home in Kyloptos Rama. That’s how he was driven mad and started his reign of terror”. Snow began to cry, until the scientist wrapped her arms around. “I didn’t know it would be like this, '' she wailed. “Snow, hide him right here and we’ll come back later. Kyloptos … this was just an accident, but now I'm responsible. I promise that one day I'll return and find you in that pyramid, and grant you a second chance” she swore.
“Mom… I want to take another shot at that used car” the giddy patron confessed. Her mom wiped sweat off her forehead at the suggestion, but agreed just to humor the request. Tasting nectar from the same cluster, they returned back to the first stop on their journey. Snowie was eager to greet them again. Showing off a phony wristwatch, she led them into the same model as before. “Like lambs to the slaughter” Priya heard her think telepathically. For a time, they continued down the same road that ran parallel to the city. The driver began to grow restless and turned to the salesman, “Where does this road lead?” she wondered. “Pretty soon we’ll have to turn back. This one dead ends at the bridge. It was supposed to stretch over Bishop’s river, but the city wasted so much of the budget, the project was never completed” Snowie cautioned them. “I can see it coming up” the driver exclaimed as tiny lion bubbles smacked into the front glass. The salesman activated the window wipers to push them off. “Darling, I think it would be a good idea to turn around now” Priya advised, instinctively touching her seat belt to ensure it was fastened. Roaring into life, the car jerked forward. “We’ll just turn around once we get to the end,” Snow replied. Stretches of concrete became vague as the car accelerated to its breaking point. The gaping mouth of the bridge grew closer as they were thrust back against their seats. Priya jerked the driver’s seat from behind as Snowie smacked her shoulder. “We’re at the end now!” she yelped. In the rear-view mirror, the scientist could see a droll grin spread across her daughter’s face, and at that moment knew it was too late. Crossing the mouth, the vehicle shot up the incline and towards the severed end of the bridge. Looking out the window, Priya could see the river below, rippling with fear. Then the hunk of metal arced down, and by some stroke of rich, unfathomable luck landed on the concrete of the other side. Snowie didn’t talk for a minute. Inhaling and exhaling laboriously, she eventually realized that yes, she was still alive, and yanked the keys out of the ignition. Needless to say, they were both left at the curb as the sale careened away.

“What on earth has gotten into you!” Priya admonished as soon as they were back in the room. “Didn’t you like that? I think we should go a second time” Snow insisted, climbing onto the couch. Her mother stood there speechless, remembering how only recently her parents had walked into her room and witnessed a similar scene. “Get down from there” she demanded. With a seal the patron summoned in her hands a car tire, and shrunk its size, placing it on her head, turning it into a hat with magic. From the background a screeching sound could be heard, “Do you think they’ll have more fun with three wheels?”. “That’s enough. Get off” her mother reiterated. Disregarding that statement, the runaway tore a honeysuckle vine off the wall and began waving it like a whip, “You’re overreacting!”. For the first time in her life, Priya felt like a beast facing a lion tamer. The scientist felt a bitter taste in her mouth, and turned around, stamping out of the room. When she got to the door of the house, she slammed the door behind her, walking down the driveway and onto the grass. Anger muffled her like an itchy sweater and only got hotter and hotter. “What is wrong with that kid? I’m going back in there and setting things straight” she thought. But on the way back she glanced down, seeing the gnome that lay in the grass, staring up at her with its doe-ish lifeless eyes. “No … she’s not a kid anymore. I have to give her space” the patron realized … although it contradicted all of her instincts, even the primal ones. Inside the house the girl continued to run her hands over the vines that covered the walls, until peering one that caught her eye, glinting curiously. “Here you are '' Snow whispered, and plucked the blossom. A little orb of nectar dangled from that slender thread. Waiting patiently, she let it drop onto her tongue. When it was over, Snow returned to the room and saw the living room mirror, her every feature in disarray, her hair frizzy and torn. Searching through memory, she could see the young cityscape of New Allium, and was drawn to it. “What is that now?” Priya yelped, pressing a hand to her chest. Crossing the boundary of the corona the body of the patron was downloaded, and she came upon the planet in the digital. Looming above it was its moon, but it had shrunk to such a degree that it was no bigger than a small city. Landing on the surface, the patron implanted herself in the grainy, pixelated chalk of the easy soil. Ripening, it became layered like an onion, and as those below in New Allium saw it, and craned their necks, their faces became red and wet, and from each of their eyes came tear-drops that flocked upwards through the atmosphere. From within the innermost concentric circle Snow emerged and was reborn, “I am a good synthesis”. Above New Allium the layers of the moon separated into their constituent parts, as the multitude of lunar rings found new orbits around the world. Pulled into the outer place, she landed on the front lawn. “What am I supposed to call you now?” Priya asked, seeing her lay there and stare up with the eyes of that vessel, where there was once so many worlds in so many layers. But they were beautiful eyes, with life still stirring inside … not anything like the other ones. “I’ll tell you when I think of it” she smiled wickedly. Extending her hand, Priya pulled her daughter to her feet, and they both traced a path down the driveway, back to where their friends must have been waiting all that morning near the hotel.

Chapter end