Beryl felt little, because, she was a little kid. She was four, and some extra that she knew was a 'mixed fraction' but she didn't know how to make one of those yet. She was little, but she liked to think that she was tall for her age! Though she wasn't as tall as the big tree in her backyard. Or the house itself, but nobody was as tall as that anyways.
She was taller than Rosalind. Rosalind was their little husky puppy and she was gray in some places on top and white in some places on the bottom. Rosalind was named for a famous scientist who had helped discover DNA! DNA was the thing that made people live, which was what Beryl had studied recently.
Rosalind chased her through the backyard! Her puppy chased her, not the scientist. That would have been silly if it had been the scientist!
Rosalind liked to play and Beryl liked to play with Rosalind, which she'd writed down for a homework they'd given her in Kin-dergarten on her first day! 'What she liked to do'. She'd tried really hard to write really neat like
Beryl Mahelona was how she writed her name! On the assignment 'What she like to do', too, of course! Other girls in the class sometimes writed prettier than her but she didn't mind! Everybody in her class and her school had their own neat thing they could do! Like Beryl liked reading a lot about science, and Joe from the next class over liked hiding Mr. Manuel's 'Big super important book' when Mr. Manuel wasn't looking. And that was interesting, to Beryl! She had asked Grandpa and Grandma about it. They'd tolded her they 'recommended' she not do it. She probably wouldn't! Because, she wondered if it wasn't so nice to do something like that to Mr. Manuel, or to other people who had 'Big super important books'?
Rosalind chased Beryl because they both liked to play together. Beryl ran and she felt her breathing hurt a bit, in her chest and below that and stuff. Beryl kept running though, because she didn't want Rosalind to win! Rosalind was barking a little. Her tiny barking was cute, like a toy that made squeaking noises.
Rosalind was too fast! She caught Beryl and Beryl acted super tough! Her arms raised, her little voice growling a little. She was like a big bear! Or like a dog, even. She wasn't really trying to be mean though. She was just playing with Rosalind. Grandma had taught her that dogs liked to play and pretend to fight. It wasn't real fighting!
Rosalind also growled but not really. The fronter part of her body was close to the ground, and her tail was wagging very fast.
Beryl pretend barked, and jumped forward at Rosalind a bit! Rosalind was pretend angry. She barked and jumped forward a bit. Beryl jumped back a bit.
Beryl pretend barked again, and jumped forward at Rosalind again! Rosalind was pretend angry, but really happy actually. She barked and jumped forward a bit. Beryl jumped back a bit.
Beryl pretend barked-!
She slipped and fell back real quickly. One second she was standing up, and then all of a sudden she felt a big ouch in her behind (butt was a bad word) and in her hands, because she'd landed on her hands. Rosalind won, and because she won she got to lick Beryl's face. It was really sticky. "Rosie, get off!" She screeched real loud. Giggled a lot, until she still felt her breathing hurt even though she wasn't running or anything that made breathing hurt.
Beryl was still laughing, but also, she was a bit confused all of a sudden. She felt something like soft wet paper mashed into one of her hands. That was a weird sensation. Beryl wanted to get up. She got a bit impatient with Rosalind, because, Rosalind wouldn't let her up!
"Let me up Rosie!" Beryl was licked.
"Hey!" Beryl was licked more. Her legs were sore because she'd squirmed them a lot. And probably also because she'd been running before.
"Please!" And then Rosalind let her go. And Beryl got up, and dusted off her skirt a bit because that was important to make sure it stayed clean. Then she looked at her hand. It looked real weird. A little tube thing, with sharp edges kinda. A shape like a butterfly but all crumpled like paper, with smears of orange and black stuff that was sticky like Rosalind's tongue, but cold and a bit itchy. She didn't know what it was.
When she figured it out she suddenly screamed. And Rosalind was confused. And, suddenly sad like Beryl was.
-------
Isaac was proud of his little girl, right proud he was. He liked to think Little Sofi, rest her spirit, had a shiny jewel to watch over from Heaven above. Baby Beryl took to hitting the books with sheer bravado and grace that Isaac hadn't seen from men at war double digits her senior. He'd been right surprised by his little girl's big brains several times.. in just the past month, imagine! He excused himself for getting all the bevy of chilling flashbacks to Little Sofi's own childhood shenanigans. Sometimes he needed a moment to just marvel at it all.
Funny he was looking through his records- her favorites- when he suddenly heard her from outside. Heard her different, mind, because he'd been hearing her energetic outbursts for the last twenty something minutes. The cheer was suddenly childish despair, the sort that pierced right into the hollow of the chest.
Isaac briskly stretched up from his kneel in front of his cabinet-organized vinyls. Fairport Convention went back into the sleeve. Beryl loved them, everyday, with a dizzy dance and an off-key hum.
Hold on baby. Cavalry's'acoming.
-------
When Isaac stepped out into the backyard, cutting a dashing figure in a light tan work suit, he quickly had everything appraised with one sweep of his gnarled and slightly wither-touched eyes, a moment before a distressed Beryl stumbled heel-over-toe his way. Tortoiseshell. Baby Beryl was too shocked to even scrape it's folding-chair corpse off the broad of her palm. Poor thing wouldn't have seen it coming, the Beryl-shape print softly cratering the shrub she'd fallen into. Rosalind was trotting along beside Beryl, innocently concerned and scared for her silently crying master.
Isaac's brow furrowed. He could remember a good lot of things with this wine-cellar aged thinker of his. Beryl insisting they plant lantanas and keep dandelion wild patches around the backyard. Beryl personally, meticulously preserving old eaten apple cores and gone-bad bananas to leave out. Beryl spiritedly laughing at Rosalind as she tore up the shrubs she and her Grandma had just planted.
He could remember Beryl swearing she'd never hurt, never harm, never even look a funny way at any form of the 'beautiful lives around her'. She'd loudly and proudly shouted it while jumping onto the cedar wood, authentic restored dust bowl-era dining room table, it rocking with creaky shivers and rickets under her teeny little weight.
He knew there was always time for a reckoning. Sixty something years had taught him that much.
He held out a slightly burly arm for Beryl to run into. She tried to shove in a bit closer squirming for the snugglest of positions, but he held her right in place, their faces partitioned by a polite serving of empty air.
Strength, restraint, discipline. Isaac 's baby girl wasn't growing up with any less.
-------
Beryl knew she was sad, and her mind felt as fuzzy as the tear trails making her cheeks sticky felt.
The beauty of nature was not hers to destroy. She knew that much. She felt nature was a family delivered to her by a mommy and a daddy, a baby brother or sister she would coo at, a mommy she would smile at, a daddy who would hug her proudly. Her mommies, Grandma, Sofia, nature. Her daddies, Grandpa, Kekoa. Nature. She did wrong things by hurting a poor innocent butterfly! It was not right, it would never be right! And she'd done it. She'd done something wrong, and she felt so so guilty. Like...
Like she'd hurt someone, someone close, someone who she should never ever hurt.
"It's okay, baby." Grandpa sounded so strong. He always sounded so strong.
Beryl didn't understand. She tried to ask, but her throat was kind of closed-feeling. All she could do was sob and it hurt, like she was without breath but she hadn't been running.
"It's okay to cry, 's okay to feel bad."
She didn't understand, still.
"What you've done is okay, baby."
She didn't understand.
"You've done nothing wrong, and I hope you know."
She didn't know that. Or what that was, she also didn't know. She sniffled a bit, and the inside of her nose was sticky.
"... Re'you listening to me, Beryl?"
She softly nodded.
"You will learn this someday."
She liked learning. But she didn't know what she was learning.
"... That.. that you are strong, Beryl. That your mistakes, they ain't it. You get up after."
"You are more than what you define yourself."
"You are a better person than that, that damn limitation. Than, 'I shall not hurt others' or, 'I lost people I love." Grandpa made a big sighing sound. Beryl didn't make a sound. She'd stopped crying.
"One day you'll be the better enough one to forgive. Me, for mistakes made.. Your parents, for mistakes they never got to make."
"... Yourself."
Beryl didn't understand.
"Want to come inside, baby? I'll help you bathe Rosie."
.. Rosalind did look dirty!
Beryl had forgotten why she'd been crying, even though she could still feel the tears making her face a little dirtier.
She did know that she still felt a little sad though. Like she'd lost a friend who'd been close to her. Like she had a memory of that friend, that reminded her of why she was sad whenever that friend was 'alive' in her memories despite no longer being actually alive. She knew that happened sometimes. But she also knew that Grandma and Grandpa liked to tell her she was strong and that she could be strong through times like that. She was beginning to wonder.. if she understood what that all meant.
'Strong'.
Like everyone else around her. Strong.
Grandma came to the house a few minutes later with the groceries, and ice cream too.
life inherits itself
Multishots of literally Beryl's entire life ever
life inherits itself
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Later On
Grandpa had let Beryl pick the ice cream flavors when they had gone to the groceries today.
Beryl stared out of the window. It was the window of her Grandma and Grandpa's room, which was a room she was not supposed to be in but she was allowed now. The sun was hidden behind lots of clouds. Beryl could see down, towards the garden. Rosalind had been left outside. She looked really lonely and she was picking at the row of sunflowers by herself, digging with her snout. Rosalind went away and Beryl couldn't see her anymore.
Beryl looked back. She was sitting right next to Grandma and Grandpa's bed. Beryl had a clean popsicle stick in one hand and it was her favorite flavor of Ruby Rocket which was the green flavor, which she had picked. On the small white wooden table right beside the pillow-part of the bed was another popsicle stick. It was in a bowl and it was melted. Beryl had picked it out and put it right there because it was Grandma's favorite flavor and she had also put it right there so Grandma could reach it. Sometimes Grandma had difficulty reaching things.
Grandma was in the bed, and she looked really small in the really big bed. She had a lot of blankets, many more than Beryl's bed had, and they all looked very thick and warm. Beryl hoped they were very cozy, but she didn't know because the doctor who came to the house sometimes with a very white shirt and sometimes asked Beryl to leave the room also asked Beryl to not sleep in the bed with her Grandma. Beryl followed instructions all the time because she wanted to be good.
Grandma looked different. Her wrinkles over her forehead and cheeks were usually only big when she smiled, but now they were always big and she never smiled much. Grandma was very pretty and strong before, when Beryl had been almost five years old. Grandma's hair had been gray and very wavy and thick and it had gone down to her shoulders, and her eyes had been a bright brown like teddy bears, and her hands had been really big when they'd held Beryl's. Now Grandma's hair was almost gone, and her eyes were very small looking, and Beryl no longer felt like Grandma's hands were big like a squishy blanket. Beryl still thought Grandma was pretty and strong. Beryl had said she wanted Grandma to come to school for Bring Your Parent To School Day when Grandma got betterer. Grandma had smiled.
But that had been a while ago because now she didn't smile much.
Grandpa had told Beryl that Grandma wouldn't be around soon. Beryl had thought that was a lot like how her parents weren't around anymore. Her mommy, Sofia, wasn't around anymore. Her daddy, Kekoa, wasn't around anymore. She'd said that out loud, and Grandpa had agreed. He said it was the same thing and he said that things sometimes ended.
Beryl thought that was okay but she wasn't sure. She didn't want Grandma to not be around anymore. Grandma had been always happy and she'd helped Beryl in the garden and taught her which flowers smelled the best and which helped the bees and the butterflies and played with Rosalind and cooked good tasting food and had taught Beryl how to be happy and have fun. Beryl had meant it a lot when she'd said she wanted Grandma to come to Bring Your Parent To School Day. The only other parent she could bring was Grandpa and he was sometimes scary and she thought he'd scare the other little kids in class.
She wondered why a lot of people she loved seemed to be destroyed? She wasn't sure she could answer that question.
Because it was a weird question. She remembered Grandpa and Grandma told her she was strong, and maybe she was! But then why wasn't she strong enough that she could keep Grandma? But maybe she wasn't doing the right thing.
Everyone always said it would make more sense when she got older. She was older! She was five now and she knew how to add numbers with two numbers as long as they weren't bigger than ten because eleven was too big. Ten plus ten was twenty, and ten plus eleven was twenty and then a one.
And besides important things like math and reading, Beryl also knew that it was okay to be sad and to cry, and she'd done a lot of those things over the past few weeks. Normally Beryl was happy and she supposed if she thought about it she still was, but she also somehow wasn't. She had changed.
Grandma moved a little bit. Her shoulder, which was sharp looking like the corner of a pencil point, poked out of the blankets.
Beryl watched Grandma until Grandma wasn't moving again. Beryl had another sad thought like what if Grandma dies now because she didn't know when Grandma was going to die and she didn't know what that looked like. Beryl continued to watch. She felt the pain in her heart which she now always knew happened when she cried, but this time no more tears came out and that was weird, though she didn't pay too much attention to that. The feeling itself was what was on her mind, and she couldn't think of another one.
And she continued to stare.
She wondered if she could do something else, something for Grandma. That startled her. It made her feel better too, and that was a quick feeling. She knew that the word for this was called hope and it made her heavy heart stop slowly dropping through her chest. Or slow down, at least, numbing the sensation until it went away, but Beryl couldn't really tell the difference between the two concepts and she didn't much care.
She reached over. It was hard to reach. She had to get off the small chair she sat on which was beside the bed. It was a chair from her play set in her room, which was her favorite because it was the red chair where Rosalind got to sit when she didn't be naughty and run around and knock the chair and the tea table and the science lab table over. She got off the chair. Beryl scooted off the chair, once and twice, with a hand holding her skirt to her hip as Grandma had taught her was polite.
And then after that she had to climb onto the bed. It was hard because the bed was almost as tall as she was. She needed to put one foot on the part of the bed that was metal and made a creak noise when she stepped on it. Then she needed to stretch her leg way up, until she could get it onto the sleeping part of the bed. She did that, and then with a big huff like she was a construction worker (like those guys who built the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State Building) she pulled the rest of herself up and her leg burned-ed a bit and that was because she was working out like Grandpa promised she'd do with him one day when she was older.
Older seemed like a long time away though. And when Beryl got there, she hoped Grandma would still be there with her.
That's why she was going to do something, right now! Something that could help Grandma out, because Beryl knew that positive energy was very important. Being a nice and good person was something that Beryl had learned in her first year of school, and then learned also that it was important from her Grandma and Grandpa, and also realized it felt very good to be a good person when she really thought about it! Beryl had decided and then after that told her teacher out loud that 'she wanted to grow up to be a good girl', and then she'd also told that to her Grandma and Grandpa and they'd both been very happy!
But that was a while ago, because Grandma wasn't so happy any more these days. But, Beryl could do something! Be a good person. Because Beryl liked to think that good people in this world got do do things like magic. That was, to her, how people like Presidents and parents made good things happen in the world. With a little elbow grease- a metaphor for hard work Grandpa had taught her while cleaning Rosalind's smelly puke off the kitchen floor- and a little niceness in the heart.
Beryl put her hands together. She tried really really hard to believe, and to think of all the times she'd ever been good!
She tried to think of how much she loved Grandma. How Grandma was so pretty and smart and strong, and how Beryl was inspired by her and hoped to grow up to be like her one day, with big warm and safe hands and big teddy bear eyes.
Grandma was looking up at her, but she wasn't saying anything and her eyes didn't look so warm anymore and Beryl went closer on her knees until her shadow was on Grandma's face but Grandma still wasn't doing anything but it was okay, because Beryl would do something for Grandma.
Beryl's knuckles tightened together, but she didn't notice that, and she also didn't notice the sting of a tear freshly squeezed out of one corner of her eye.
She prayed in a soft voice.
"I am a Witch, and I weave my spell."
She imagined great scenes of magic and sorcery and Beryl the good witch sitting atop a tree with her bestest pet Rosalind.
""My Mommy told me, I am good."
She remembered friendly faces, warm smiles, not all of whom she could remember the names off because maybe they were gone.
But she still cared for them.
"From nature's heart, I mend a heart."
"I should,
I should,
I should.
Bless to the critters of Earth,
They speak to my heart and yours
The frog goes ribbit, the cricket cricket,
Hummingbirds hum and the eagle soars.
I weave my spell and so do they,
We are all one and the same anyway,
We are all to be forever and ever,
You and I, together."
She imagined the many thing that wandered this Earth and crawled and swimmed and jumped and climbed and they all existed together happily. Even if they hunted each other, because that was okay! It was the way it was meant to be, and all sadness would end when the time was right. And maybe Beryl's sadness because Grandma would get up, and smile, and hold Beryl's hand in her own.
Beryl could feel it working. She could feel hope.
Later-er On
Grandpa had let Beryl pick the ice cream flavors when they had gone to the groceries today.
Beryl stared out of the window. It was the window of her Grandma and Grandpa's room, which was a room she was not supposed to be in but she was allowed now. The sun was hidden behind lots of clouds. Beryl could see down, towards the garden. Rosalind had been left outside. She looked really lonely and she was picking at the row of sunflowers by herself, digging with her snout. Rosalind went away and Beryl couldn't see her anymore.
Beryl looked back. She was sitting right next to Grandma and Grandpa's bed. Beryl had a clean popsicle stick in one hand and it was her favorite flavor of Ruby Rocket which was the green flavor, which she had picked. On the small white wooden table right beside the pillow-part of the bed was another popsicle stick. It was in a bowl and it was melted. Beryl had picked it out and put it right there because it was Grandma's favorite flavor and she had also put it right there so Grandma could reach it. Sometimes Grandma had difficulty reaching things.
Grandma was in the bed, and she looked really small in the really big bed. She had a lot of blankets, many more than Beryl's bed had, and they all looked very thick and warm. Beryl hoped they were very cozy, but she didn't know because the doctor who came to the house sometimes with a very white shirt and sometimes asked Beryl to leave the room also asked Beryl to not sleep in the bed with her Grandma. Beryl followed instructions all the time because she wanted to be good.
Grandma looked different. Her wrinkles over her forehead and cheeks were usually only big when she smiled, but now they were always big and she never smiled much. Grandma was very pretty and strong before, when Beryl had been almost five years old. Grandma's hair had been gray and very wavy and thick and it had gone down to her shoulders, and her eyes had been a bright brown like teddy bears, and her hands had been really big when they'd held Beryl's. Now Grandma's hair was almost gone, and her eyes were very small looking, and Beryl no longer felt like Grandma's hands were big like a squishy blanket. Beryl still thought Grandma was pretty and strong. Beryl had said she wanted Grandma to come to school for Bring Your Parent To School Day when Grandma got betterer. Grandma had smiled.
But that had been a while ago because now she didn't smile much.
Grandpa had told Beryl that Grandma wouldn't be around soon. Beryl had thought that was a lot like how her parents weren't around anymore. Her mommy, Sofia, wasn't around anymore. Her daddy, Kekoa, wasn't around anymore. She'd said that out loud, and Grandpa had agreed. He said it was the same thing and he said that things sometimes ended.
Beryl thought that was okay but she wasn't sure. She didn't want Grandma to not be around anymore. Grandma had been always happy and she'd helped Beryl in the garden and taught her which flowers smelled the best and which helped the bees and the butterflies and played with Rosalind and cooked good tasting food and had taught Beryl how to be happy and have fun. Beryl had meant it a lot when she'd said she wanted Grandma to come to Bring Your Parent To School Day. The only other parent she could bring was Grandpa and he was sometimes scary and she thought he'd scare the other little kids in class.
She wondered why a lot of people she loved seemed to be destroyed? She wasn't sure she could answer that question.
Because it was a weird question. She remembered Grandpa and Grandma told her she was strong, and maybe she was! But then why wasn't she strong enough that she could keep Grandma? But maybe she wasn't doing the right thing.
Everyone always said it would make more sense when she got older. She was older! She was five now and she knew how to add numbers with two numbers as long as they weren't bigger than ten because eleven was too big. Ten plus ten was twenty, and ten plus eleven was twenty and then a one.
And besides important things like math and reading, Beryl also knew that it was okay to be sad and to cry, and she'd done a lot of those things over the past few weeks. Normally Beryl was happy and she supposed if she thought about it she still was, but she also somehow wasn't. She had changed.
Grandma moved a little bit. Her shoulder, which was sharp looking like the corner of a pencil point, poked out of the blankets.
Beryl watched Grandma until Grandma wasn't moving again. Beryl had another sad thought like what if Grandma dies now because she didn't know when Grandma was going to die and she didn't know what that looked like. Beryl continued to watch. She felt the pain in her heart which she now always knew happened when she cried, but this time no more tears came out and that was weird, though she didn't pay too much attention to that. The feeling itself was what was on her mind, and she couldn't think of another one.
And she continued to stare.
She wondered if she could do something else, something for Grandma. That startled her. It made her feel better too, and that was a quick feeling. She knew that the word for this was called hope and it made her heavy heart stop slowly dropping through her chest. Or slow down, at least, numbing the sensation until it went away, but Beryl couldn't really tell the difference between the two concepts and she didn't much care.
She reached over. It was hard to reach. She had to get off the small chair she sat on which was beside the bed. It was a chair from her play set in her room, which was her favorite because it was the red chair where Rosalind got to sit when she didn't be naughty and run around and knock the chair and the tea table and the science lab table over. She got off the chair. Beryl scooted off the chair, once and twice, with a hand holding her skirt to her hip as Grandma had taught her was polite.
And then after that she had to climb onto the bed. It was hard because the bed was almost as tall as she was. She needed to put one foot on the part of the bed that was metal and made a creak noise when she stepped on it. Then she needed to stretch her leg way up, until she could get it onto the sleeping part of the bed. She did that, and then with a big huff like she was a construction worker (like those guys who built the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State Building) she pulled the rest of herself up and her leg burned-ed a bit and that was because she was working out like Grandpa promised she'd do with him one day when she was older.
Older seemed like a long time away though. And when Beryl got there, she hoped Grandma would still be there with her.
That's why she was going to do something, right now! Something that could help Grandma out, because Beryl knew that positive energy was very important. Being a nice and good person was something that Beryl had learned in her first year of school, and then learned also that it was important from her Grandma and Grandpa, and also realized it felt very good to be a good person when she really thought about it! Beryl had decided and then after that told her teacher out loud that 'she wanted to grow up to be a good girl', and then she'd also told that to her Grandma and Grandpa and they'd both been very happy!
But that was a while ago, because Grandma wasn't so happy any more these days. But, Beryl could do something! Be a good person. Because Beryl liked to think that good people in this world got do do things like magic. That was, to her, how people like Presidents and parents made good things happen in the world. With a little elbow grease- a metaphor for hard work Grandpa had taught her while cleaning Rosalind's smelly puke off the kitchen floor- and a little niceness in the heart.
Beryl put her hands together. She tried really really hard to believe, and to think of all the times she'd ever been good!
She tried to think of how much she loved Grandma. How Grandma was so pretty and smart and strong, and how Beryl was inspired by her and hoped to grow up to be like her one day, with big warm and safe hands and big teddy bear eyes.
Grandma was looking up at her, but she wasn't saying anything and her eyes didn't look so warm anymore and Beryl went closer on her knees until her shadow was on Grandma's face but Grandma still wasn't doing anything but it was okay, because Beryl would do something for Grandma.
Beryl's knuckles tightened together, but she didn't notice that, and she also didn't notice the sting of a tear freshly squeezed out of one corner of her eye.
She prayed in a soft voice.
"I am a Witch, and I weave my spell."
She imagined great scenes of magic and sorcery and Beryl the good witch sitting atop a tree with her bestest pet Rosalind.
""My Mommy told me, I am good."
She remembered friendly faces, warm smiles, not all of whom she could remember the names off because maybe they were gone.
But she still cared for them.
"From nature's heart, I mend a heart."
"I should,
I should,
I should.
Bless to the critters of Earth,
They speak to my heart and yours
The frog goes ribbit, the cricket cricket,
Hummingbirds hum and the eagle soars.
I weave my spell and so do they,
We are all one and the same anyway,
We are all to be forever and ever,
You and I, together."
She imagined the many thing that wandered this Earth and crawled and swimmed and jumped and climbed and they all existed together happily. Even if they hunted each other, because that was okay! It was the way it was meant to be, and all sadness would end when the time was right. And maybe Beryl's sadness because Grandma would get up, and smile, and hold Beryl's hand in her own.
Beryl could feel it working. She could feel hope.
Later-er On
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes: