Chapter 185: Day 184

Day 184,

I think the illness itself has passed, although I’m still recovering after nearly two weeks of little food, rest, or physical activity.  I feel weak, hollowed out both physically and emotionally.  Yet, I cannot deny a strange sort of catharsis.  As if this ragged state is proof of overcoming a great trial, on the other side of which I’ve come out purified, purged of something although I know not what.  

I can walk on my own once more, even if I needs must pause to lean on a wall after a short distance.  Once again I can know the joy of eating solid food, even if a shrunken appetite limits my portions.  Soon, I hope to properly bathe myself once more, even if the water will like as not grow cold ere I finish my ablutions.  

 

Is there anything so glorious as a vigorous scrubbing after too long without?  Probably, but that does not detract from this feeling of refreshment.  

 

Shortly after that last entry I realized my bed was bare.  Apparently, Lin took my bedsheets to wash while I bathed.  It seems she was waiting for a moment I wouldn’t be around to object to the aid and left Maiko with instructions to not let me head out to help with the task.  Prescient moves on her part to be sure.  

I feel I owe the two of them so much, although as Lin was quick to point out when she returned, this is literally her job, and even if it wasn’t it’s what friends do for one another.  But she added that if payment for professional services rendered will make me feel better, then I can make it up to her and Maiko by bringing them along on my next “camping trip.”

That exchange aside, the rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a comfortable placidity, alternating between casual banter and companionable silence.  Truthfully, I contributed little to the conversation, content to listen to the sound of friendly voices and making the occasional commentary to let them know I hadn’t passed out.  Even Maiko spoke more than I did.  Come to think of it, she was more talkative than I’d grown used to her being.  Good for her.  

Now though, before I retire for the night, there’s a less happy point I feel I must put to paper.  Whether to call it bad, I’m still conflicted about, for it distresses me less than it perhaps ought to.  

The night before last, I awoke to hands running through my hair and stroking my cheek.  Nearby I could faintly make out a sort of rumbling sound, like a heavy wooden sphere rolling around the inside of a hollow container.  For some reason it brought to mind the purring of a cat, although it really sounded nothing like a purr.  Perhaps some old world associative memory.  There was certainly a sense of deep nostalgia attached to it.  Whatever the case, combined with the repetitive gentle touch, it induced an immeasurably comforting sense of peace and safety.

Which makes the source of these sensations all the more unsettling in retrospect.

My eyes slowly opening, and even more slowly adjusting to the moonlit room I came to realize the nature sprite was crouched by my bed, cradling my head in its hands as it slowly and minutely rocked back and forth.  For a wonder, I did not start or cry out, neither out of surprise nor in an effort to rouse Maiko, whose slumbering form I espied on a chair in the far corner.  Perhaps I was too weak to do so.  But, really, I think it was because in that moment I had no fear of the creature.  Never would I have guessed that its touch could be that gentle, its vocalizations so soothing.

I should have been afraid of that thing.  I should hate it.  But…

But then and there, I felt like nothing so much as the six month old infant that I in so many ways am, suffering, on the verge of tears, and being held by a parent singing a lullaby.  The memory of that moment is a pleasant one, happy even.  And that in and of itself frightens me to dwell on.  Did it do something to me to make me accept it, or is that just a normal human reaction to apparent acts of tender kindness?  My sleepwalking, did the sprite lead me out of the library that night?  And if it did, was it to lure me into the woods once more or to guide me back here where I had a more spacious room with better circulated air and windows letting in sunlight?

Once more I find myself unable to reconcile the actions of the inhuman as I ask myself what am I to it?  And the perhaps more troubling question, what is it to me?

I’ve not mentioned any of this to Lin or Maiko, but perhaps I ought to.  They both already know about the time the laund my encou what happe the other incident.

 

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