On May 22, 2019, P.T. Wyant posted at
ptwyant.com as her Wednesday Words prompt a pawnshop, a hole in the wall, and a thorn.
First I had to look up what exactly a pawnshop was. I had a vague idea, but I wasn't sure.
It would have been easy to put the Navel into this story since one could consider it be a pawnshop of sorts. Another idea came to me, though, an idea involving Gabrielle before she ever became the proprietor of the Navel, back when she was a Direction at the Temple of Heavenly Directions, along with one of my most unpleasant characters to ever enter Navel...here it is. :)
Gabrielle carried the thorn with ginger reverence in the palm of her hand, careful not to let it prick her. Again.
Woodlands and fields gave way to roads, dwellings, and buildings, clustered together in a crowded jumble. There were so many she almost missed the hole in the wall.
Yes, it was literally a hole in the wall. A black, festering hole upon the door of a dusty shop, a faded sign swinging over the front door. A rusty bronze statue of a forgotten deity gazed sadly at people from the other side of the glass, not expecting anyone to notice or remember its name.
Gabrielle shuddered at the sensation, the sorrow. What were inanimate objects to everyone else, including her sisters at the Temple of Heavenly Directions cried out to her in voices no one else could hear, striking her with their loneliness, their neglect. What could she do with an abandoned statue in a window? What could she do for it no one else could?
The only power she had was to listen. Too often that wasn’t enough.
The black hole let out a wet chuckle, which raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
She didn’t wish to do this, but it was her punishment. Her duty.
Gabrielle lay a hand upon the hole, feeling it pull her arm along with the rest of her into the shop.
“Welcome! The fact you were able to enter is a sign in itself that you are quite special!” An oily, fawning voice which matched an oily face, gleaming ruddy pink carried across the dark interior of a building filled with dusty shelves. “Here at Gryluxx’s Pawnshop, w’re certain to have something to suit your needs.”
“I’ve never been in a place like this before.” Such an admission felt like a weakness, but it was too obvious to hide. Gabrielle seldom ventured beyond the grounds of the Temple of Heavenly Directions.
Not without Mireille at her side. What would Mireille do in such a situation? Stride forward with confidence and step up to the counter. She’d tell this grinning man exactly why she was here and get her business over with.
“I found this.” Gabrielle didn’t stride forward so much as tiptoe on trembling feet. “I think I’m meant to offer this to you.”
Gryluxx’s smiling mouth turned down, wrinkling as she approached. “Bah, you’re nothing but a child.” He looked her up and down. “Go away, little girl. This is a respectable business and I have no time for…” He stopped in the middle of his own sentence at the sight of the thorn in her hands. His bushy eyebrows shot up to his hairline and his mouth parted.
“What’s wrong?” Gabrielle glanced from the man to the thorn. She could see nothing particularly alarming about it.
“Why, nothing, nothing at all, my dear!” Gryluxx rubbed his hands together, returning to his usual fawning manner. “It’s clear you’ve come a long way to give this item to me and who am I to send you away?” He didn’t even glance at her. His beady eyes fixed themselves upon the thorn with a greed that was almost hunger.
“Is this so very valuable?” Gabrielle asked. “A friend once told me that the value in any object wasn’t always obvious.”
“Your friend sounds very wise, although alas, I fear there is little value in a thorn.” Gryluxx licked his thick lips. “Still I’d hate for you to go empty-handed after bringing me this, even bleeding all over it.” The pawnshop owner’s greedy eyes flickered back to her, taking in Gabrielle from head to toe. “It is your blood upon this thorn, isn’t it, my dear?”
“No.” Gabrielle wasn’t sure why she lied. “I found it lying in the woods.” She gazed at this strange man with shining eyes and quivering lips. “It is rather pretty, isn’t it?”
Yes, she had found it, just as she said. Only she’d pricked herself and started to bleed, only to gaze at the red liquid beading upon her palm with wonder.
She’d never expected such a reaction as she got when she returned the Temple of Heavenly Directions.
****
“What have you done?” Raphaella hissed. “You’re bleeding like a human!” She held Gabrielle by the wrist, not touching her wounded skin. “I should never have let you outside the temple grounds! You’ve been contaminated, degraded!”
“There’s only one thing to do.” Micheala moved to stand behind Raphaella, her face hard and without pity. “Tie her to her bed. Leave her there to pray, to think about what she’s done. To regret it until this contagion passes from her.”
“No.”
Rafaella and Michaela froze, closing their mouths at the soft, unobtrusive voice. Both Directions bowed their heads in deference, not looking up at the one who approached.
She was half their size, only a little taller than Gabrielle, who was still growing. Her hair was paler and curlier than Gabrielle’s, while her skin was darker than anyone else at this Temple. Seldom did she speak or exert her authority, but when Urielle did, everyone paid attention.
“Let her go for a walk. May her feet find the way to a pawnshop, the right pawnship.” Urielle allowed her lambent, yellow-green eyes to rest upon Gabrielle. “She shall offer that thorn and the blood spilt upon it to the first unsightly creature she comes upon.”
“A pawnshop?!” Raphaella sounded torn between bewilderment and outrage. “Offer the blood of one of us to some unsightly creature in a pawnshop?”
“Hush, Raphaella. We’re not supposed to bleed. Something must be done about it.” Michaela didn’t raise her head, keeping her head downcast as she chided her sister Direction. “As Heaven wishes, so it shall be done.”
“As Heaven wishes, so it shall be done,” Raphaella echoed, although her shoulders quivered with suppressed anger.
“Well, Gabrielle?” Urielle turned to face the younger Direction, addressing her with far more gentleness. “Do you accept the consequences of your action? Are you willing to do this?”
A strange way to describe what seemed to be a punishment. Gabrielle opened her mouth, ready to ask what Urielle meant.
The angry glitter in both Raphaella and Michaela’s eyes silenced her. “I’m more than willing to walk and see where my feet will take me.”
Michaela let out a choked, spluttering sound. Raphaella glowered at her, biting her own lip, yet stayed silent.
“Go and discover your direction.” A tiny smile played at the corner of Urielle’s mouth. “You may learn more from this punishment than you ever will here.”
****
As so Gabrielle had taken a walk, only to find herself here. In this pawnshop. Facing what seemed like an unsightly creature.
This was part of her punishment. Only Urielle’s punishments were seldom as direct as Raphaella’s or Michaela’s. They often included enigmatic lessons which ‘Brie sometimes wondered if Urielle herself understood exactly what her wayward student would learn from them.
All ‘Brie could guess was she was supposed to learn something here.
“Don’t try to force answers when they’re not ready to reveal themselves.” She could almost hear Mireille, her forbidden friend, the one she’d sneaked outside temple grounds to meet, speaking from her memories. “Let them come in their own time when you’re ready for them.”
Easy for a memory to say. Right now Gabrielle was wondering if she ought to sweep up the thorn in her hand and run. Try to get out of this pawnshop without giving this man anything.
Only she’d stab her hand again if she tried. Nor was she sure if she could leave, if this pawnshop owner was unwilling to let her go.
“What will you give me in return for this?” She met that bright, dark gaze, trying to read whatever lay beneath the eagerness.
“How about a shiny coin?” The man opened a hand to reveal a bright, sparkling coin. There was a symbol, a scratch upon it. A figure which was incomplete.
No, a second glance revealed that the symbol was nothing but a smudge.
“What else would you offer in trade?” She withdrew her hands, still holding the thorn.
“Ah, I can see you’re a girl who likes to drive a hard bargain! Well, I admire your spirit, even if all you have to offer is a thorn.” Gryluxx spread his arms. “How about this?”
He reached out from under the counter to withdraw a lacy blouse and skirt. The lace was tight and appeared to be rough.
“Aren’t these pretty? They’d look especially pretty on you.” He leered at her. “It’s hard to part with such quality work, but the thought of such a pretty girl wearing these warms my heart, even if I’m only getting a thorn in return.”
“No thank you.” Gabrielle shook her head, looking away from the cobweb pattern on the collar. “What else can you offer in trade?”
“Well, what else do you want?” Irritation entered Gryluxx’s tone. He snatched the blouse and skirt off the counter, hiding them away. “It’s only a thorn.”
“How about that lonely god in the window?” Gabrielle pointed in the direction of the front of the shop.
“Lonely god? Hah! That’s only a tacky copy of a more famous statue elsewhere!” The pawnshop owner chortled before he stopped himself. “Well, it is still a statue. I’m not sure if I should be giving it in return for a mere thorn.”
“All right.” Gabrielle turned to go, cupping the thorn in her palms. “Sorry for disturbing you.”
“Only how can I deny such a charming visitor?” He rubbed his hands together. “Very well. Give me the thorn and I will give you the statue.”
Gabrielle spun slowly around on her heel, reluctant, but yes. She was going to agree to this bargain. Once more she felt the loneliness wafting from the statue. She couldn’t leave it there.
‘Brie extended her hands towards Gryluxx, wondering if she’d have to pick up the thorn again.
There was no need. The pawnshop owner snatched it from her hands, fondling it with almost lascivious satisfaction.
“It was your blood upon this…Gabrielle.” Once more, he licked his lips. “I’ll be seeing you again someday. In the meantime, enjoy your worthless piece of trash.”
Gabrielle looked away from his mocking gaze, refusing to acknowledge the hairs standing on the back of her neck. She walked away, feeling his gaze upon her, but she ignored the sensation. She focused all her attention on the placid, mournful face of the figure with several arms, holding a flower in one hand, a flame in another.
Don’t worry. She sent the thought towards the motionless figure. I’ll find a place for you, a better place for you. In the meantime, I’ll clean you up.
Something changed in the air around the statue. The lonely despair lifted, giving way to a hopeful prickling in the dust, in the very particles ‘Brie breathed.
She reached out to touch her payment, to lay her hands upon it and pick it up…
…only to find reality blurring around her. She blinked, saw the woods around her, the familar woods where she often met Mireille.
“Brie!” Think of her name, and she shall appear. Mireille walked towards her, waving a hand, bells tinkling around her bare ankles, while her loose peach skirts flowed around her legs, her hair a sparkling mass of curling bronze. “I thought I might find you here.”
Gabrielle smiled, raised a hand, only to find she still held the statue. She lifted it into the air as if it were a prize she’d just won.
The smile disappeared from Mireille’s face as she gazed upon it.
“Where did you find that?” She spoke in a hushed whisper, staring at the statue as if it were her lost love. “How can it be here?”
“I don’t know.” Gabrielle never lied to Mireille, not if she could help it. “It was my payment in return for a thorn soaked with blood.”
“What?” Mireille turned her shocked expression from the statue to Gabrielle. “You shouldn’t have done that!”
“Perhaps not.” Gabrielle managed a weary grin. “If the trade is one that will make you happy, it was worth it.”
She had no idea what this statue was, what it meant. Not at the time. After all, it was her first time responding to a lost object. Her first time picking it up and trying to find a home for it.
Later on, she’d start being able to sense more about items like the statue, where they came from, what their true form was, why they took the shape they did. All too often these answers were wrapped up in the people they were meant to be with.
All she knew is she’d done something which made Mireille happy, judging from the way her eyes shone with unshed tears. There was an unexpressed joy, an undared hope in the trembling of her lower lips, the way she reached forward to run her hands over the statue.
The statue let out a silent hum, like a purring cat. It had found the person it wanted to be with.
That hum released something in ‘Brie’s chest, something she hadn’t even realized was there, constricting her innards with pain. It felt more profound, more divine than all the times she’d been strapped to her bed, praying to the Heavens to look kindly upon her in all her smallness.
She was too small, too unworthy to be a Heavenly Direction. Raphaella and Michaela never failed to remind her of this.
She wasn’t too small for this, though. To unite a forgotten object with a person it wanted to be with, even if no one else recognized the object’s desire, its need.
It made Gabrielle herself feel needed in turn. It was nice to be needed.
She could really get used to the sensation.
