Haylock
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51 - Willpower
🕑 Added 2023-07-18 11:14:47 +0000 UTCThe air thickened around me.
The chill morning breeze stilled, and the warmth from the sun seemed to vanish as if a cloud obscured it. I glanced up, seeing not a single cloud in the sky, then looked back at Barry.
His eyes were fixated on Maria, and she stood like a mouse beneath a predator’s gaze.
“B-Barry?” she asked, the word soft.
As soon as the air had shifted, it changed back, and Barry shook his head.
“Sorry. I’m just really interested in the medicine’s effect. We might be able to adjust the recipe if something happened when Sharon drank it.”
Maria swallowed, giving him a half-hearted smile.
“I-It’s fine, Barry. After you left, she sat up and asked for food. She’d fallen asleep by the time dad brought her food, but still, that she requested it is a great sign—she hasn’t done so in months.”
Barry rubbed his chin in thought, and he stared into space, clearly thinking of adjustments he could make to the medicine.
With the quiet, I let my brain process what had just happened.
What in the anime-protagonist, Xianxia master’s-aura was that? Did I imagine it, or did Barry’s stare actually make the air change...?
I blew air from my nose, smirking at the idea.
Who cares? As long as no evil sect or big-bad-enemy-guy shows up, it won’t change my way of life.
“What do you think, Barry?” Maria asked. “Is it as good a sign as it seems?”
“It is,” he said, still rubbing his chin and staring into the distance.
“Do... do you think you need to change the recipe at all?”
He looked at her, seeming to come back to himself.
“Oh, uh, yeah, I think it’ll need to be adjusted. I’ll talk to Helen about it tonight, and we’ll bring some of the new recipe around tomorrow morning.”
Maria smiled and nodded, the effect of Barry’s aura-adjacent shenanigans long forgotten.
“Well, if you can deal with all that later, should we spread the mulch?”
Barry sighed, looking at the sky and smiling as he did so.
“Yeah, that’s a great idea.”
He turned to me.
“You know, we probably don’t need you here anymore, Fischer. We can handle this menial work if you have something else to take care of...”
“Nonsense!” I walked toward the cart. “I’m here now, so I’ll gladly help out!”
***
We spread the final bale together, each taking some to shake loose and layer around the stalks of sugarcane.
“You know, Barry,” I said, “it’s a real shame not everyone is as fast as you and I. I’m happy to help, but when someone else in the field isn’t carrying their weight, it’s just a little disappointing having to—”
A wad of mulch hit me, exploding against the back of my head and sending yellow plant material and dust particles everywhere.
Surprised as I was, I breathed in through my nose, and immediately regretted my doing so.
I ran from the cloud, coughing and spluttering.
I squinted through narrowed eyes, not wanting to get any dust in them. Barry was trying to hide a smile, and Maria had her hand held to her mouth, trying and failing to keep the laughter from bubbling up.
“I... I...”
I sneezed.
“I have—”
I sneezed again.
“Ahhh!” I yelled, rubbing my face all over and blowing out through my nose.
I stepped back, trying to get as far as possible from any more particles, and caught my heel on the last half bale. I fell over, and when I opened my eyes, all I saw was the blue sky above.
Maria’s giggles grew, and Barry was making a whining noise as he tried to hold his in.
“Oh, that’s funny, is it?”
I got to my feet with vengeance in my heart.
I picked up two handfuls of mulch from the bale and turned my squint on Maria.
“How fast can you run?”
She fled, her laughs rolling out over the fields as I chased her down.
***
“You’re sure I can borrow it, Barry? You don’t need it today?”
“I’m sure, Fischer. Just bring it back by nightfall—I’ll need to water the fields with it tomorrow morning.”
I bent down, picking up the handle of the cart Barry’s pump sat atop with one hand, lifting the wheelbarrow and shovel onto my shoulder with the other.
“Thanks, mate. I appreciate it.”
I set off toward the forest with a growing smile.
Do those two think they’re the only ones that can prepare a surprise?
***
When I loaded the last barrow-full of dirt, the sun was high overhead, its rays peeking through the forest canopy as wind blew the leaves and branches.
I pushed the wheelbarrow back towards Barry’s, my mind swimming with how I’d landscape my creation.
Should I only partially decorate it, in case the water drains?
I picked up a handful of soil from the wheelbarrow and squeezed it, condensing the mass into a small ball. It was cool and moist, reflective of the forest’s environment.
I smiled to myself.
No, if I want to surprise Sergeant Snips and Corporal Claws, I’m gonna have to go all out.
I continued walking, a myriad of possible materials and layouts running through my cerebrum.
***
I placed the last rock down and stepped out of the pond.
My head tilted back and forth as I walked around the hole, assessing my landscaping from every direction.
Inspired by Snips and her saltwater pond, I’d increased the size of the hole I’d previously dug. It was almost double its original size, only just a little smaller than the one my animal pals had made.
With how much dirt I excavated, roots had become visible. They were thick and sturdy, and I took care digging around them so they weren’t damaged. They looked like natural logs extending from the walls of the pond and down into the floor, and I knew the fish I moved into here would appreciate the cover they provided.
I just have to remember where they are, so I don’t get snagged...
Similar to Snips’ and Claws’ pond, I’d lined the floor and walls with stone. Unlike theirs, I didn’t use slate rock from the coast, or the opalescent stones they’d discovered; I used river rocks, wanting the environment to be as natural as possible for the fish.
In the middle of the pond, I’d placed a gigantic log. It was propped atop a large river rock on one end, its natural curvature sending that side of the log poking up above where the water-level would be.
The pond looked good, but it was missing... something—other than water and fish, of course.
I knelt down and leaned my head against one hand.
“What am I miss—oh!”
I shot to my feet.
“It’s missing plants!”
***
My eyes lit up as I caught sight of a small plant growing in the shallows.
I rolled my pants up and walked down the riverbank.
The water was cool against my legs; it was a welcome sensation after a morning spent moving soil, stones, and a particularly large log.
I stepped on the uneven river rocks with care, slowly approaching the plant’s green underwater mass. It was thirty centimeters tall and wide, its leaves spreading out and moving languidly in the softly running water of the shallows.
I slowly reached both hands in, and gripping it firmly at the base, pulled with soft, testing tugs. The plant came free easily, and I lifted my prize from the water.
It was much less impressive when removed from its wet habitat, but I knew it would appear beautiful again when I filled my pond with water
I grinned.
Let’s see what else I can find…
***
My clothes were drenched and my arms were full as I made my way back to the pond, a veritable forest of underwater plants held to my chest.
I was fueled by both excitement and anticipation as I traveled, and I reached my ongoing creation in a matter of minutes.
I set my load of plants down and began separating them into the different species. Along with the original type of plant I’d found—the one with long, billowing leaves—I found three other types.
The first grew in single strands, with small leaves fanning out from its stem. Each plant looked like a fox’s tail when underwater, but looked like a rather sad asparagus when removed. I’d collected literally hundreds of them, and couldn’t wait to decorate with them.
The second was a plant that grew chaotically; its stems branched off in every direction, each individual section sprouting multiple others. The leaves of the plant looked like small blades of grass, and I suspected it would provide safety and cover for smaller fish and invertebrates.
The third, which may have been my favorite of the four collected, was what looked like a small moss. They grew in tiny patches—about ten centimeters in diameter. Despite their small size, they were beautiful, and when submerged, reminded me of the centuries-old moss you could find in damp rainforests.
I picked up the first species of plant, and with contentment radiating through me, made my way down into the pond.
***
“Well—that looks terrible.”
I looked down at the arrangement I’d settled on.
Without water, the plants I’d placed looked like someone had boiled spinach and thrown it around haphazardly; it was a rather sad sight.
I rubbed my hands together and glanced at the pump
“Guess it’s time to add the water and hope for the best.”
I put one end of the flexible pipe at the bottom of the pond where there was no dirt visible, weighed it down with a rock, and made my way toward the river.
I pulled the pump off the cart when I arrived, walked it down to the water, and placed it on a rock.
Making sure the intake was far beneath the surface and free of obstruction, I began pumping.
***
On my third trip to check the water-level of the pond, I was finally happy; it was almost completely full, only a small section of river stones poking up above the surface.
The water was a little murky, and while I’d been hoping it poured clear, I knew that was an impossibility. Still, it wasn’t anywhere as dirty as my worst fears, so I counted it as a win.
I appreciated the view for a moment longer, happy with the placement of the plants now that they were once more submerged. The green—even seen through slightly murky water—provided a welcome relief from the dark tones of the rocks, roots, and log.
“Alright!” I said to myself, standing up and stretching. “There’s only one more ingredient...”
***
I skulked through the sand, my heart beating and eyes roaming.
If I were to be seen—to be found-out at this pivotal part of the plan—my efforts would all be for naught.
I slipped into a shadow, walking along wooden boards with silent steps.
A sound broke the silence, and I stopped, my whole body freezing.
The sound came again, and I peeked around the corner, my eyes gazing out toward the sun-bathed landscape.
Snips and Claws were sleeping by the campfire, the latter wrapped around the former’s carapace. They were both snoring softly, one sounding like a dog, the other like a monster from the depths—I still found Snips’ noises adorable, though.
A smile came to my face unbidden, and I had no choice but to allow a moment of appreciation for just how damn cute they were.
“Not now, Fischer,” I chided under my breath, “you’ve got fishies to catch!”
I resumed sneaking toward the rods.
***
I rushed toward the pond with my bucket of fish, knowing full well that they’d easily survive the trip, but finding myself unable to slow down.
It was all too exciting.
I reached the pond and immediately bent down, carefully pouring the fish in.
They disappeared instantaneously, darting off in every direction to parts of the pond where I couldn’t see them.
I dropped to my knees, held my hands up in prayer, and closed my eyes.
“Please don’t die. I’d feel terrible if your lives were wasted.”
I wished nothing but health and vitality for the pond and its occupants, and I took a deep breath, willing it to be so.
I opened my eyes slowly, just in time to see the world shift.
