The Asters of Ogaza

18

      “What do you mean your throne?” would have been the appropriate question to ask. But it would also be an unfair question to ask a crying and seemingly, deeply hurt Princess. So, Zina slowly put her hands over the Princess’s again, and urged her to finish up her fruit. She did. She also drank half the content in her bottle, and then Zina tucked her in to rest.

          “You’re too good to me, Raya. Too good.” Her eyes were almost closing and her voice was so delicate, Zina was scared it would disappear if she tried to talk a little louder. “And I know you say that we love each other just the same. But . . .that’s not true, Raya. You love me more than I could ever think to love myself. More than I could ever think to love, you.” She sniffled and Zina shifted her gaze to her. She had previously been staring at the Princess’s windows draped with taupe curtains. Watching the Princess cry wasn’t in any way going to help her.

          “Go to sleep, Princess. Thank you for at least eating.”

          She squeezed Zina’s hands atop hers. “Thank you for being you, Raya.” And with that, her eyes went shut, making soft hums as she drifted to sleep. Zina waited a while, before going to find her friends at the library. Despite the many theories going through her mind about everything the Princess just said, her heart still warmed as the word ‘friends’ popped in her head.

          “Friends,” she said again, smiling this time.

          “Zina!” Marjani rushed to meet her on the way. Zina pretended she didn’t hear anything and kept walking. She was close to the library now. “Zina, wait.” Marjani went to block her path. “How is she? What’s wrong with her? Is she sick? Would she come out soon?”

          Zina watched Marjani’s eyes squint in concern, and annoyance climbed up her belly. “Get out of my way.”

          “Just answer me. I’m about to die of worry.”

          And she actually looked like she could pass out any minute now. Zina shook her head and snickered in scorn. “You’re a hypocrite, Marjani. You stand here, showing the deepest concern and care for the Princess who obviously doesn’t care about you. But you despise the people who are closer to you than the Princess would ever be. The people who once cared about you. “

          “You don’t understand.” Marjani fumed.

          “And I don’t want to,” Zina said brusquely when it seemed like Marjani was going to continue. “I may have cared to know before, but right now, you don’t even exist to me. You’re just a pathetic and poor choice of a friend. You disgust me.” She shoved her aside and walked past.

          “Hey vulture, is she bothering you?” Amare called as he approached with Angel.

          Zina scoffed. “She’s not relevant enough to bother me.” They walked away, leaving Marjani still fuming. She tried herself to check on the Princess, but of course was sent back as the Princess was asleep.

          Zina explained all that happened with the Princess to Amare and Angel.

          “Wow, it’s like every time you go there, something strange happens to you,” Amare said.

          “Right,” She agreed.

          “This Raya, she has to be important for the Princess to mention just her name when she’s feeling this sad,” Angel said, fiddling with Zina’s earrings.

          “Yeah, maybe she’s the girl in the photos?” Amare suggested.

          “Most likely,” Zina replied with a nod. “But why does she keep calling me Raya?”

          “Maybe you remind her of her? If that makes sense,” Angel spoke.

          “It makes zero sense,” she whined.

          “Well there’s that, and there’s the whole drama with the throne.” Amare took his hands out of his pocket and ran it through his hair.

          They sat silent, not knowing what to make of why the Princess called the throne hers.

          “Whatever that is, I hope they have it figured out. It seemed deep,” Zina said.

          “It is deep,” Amare corrected. “The throne is the highest seat of power in the whole of North Ogaza. Anyone who wears that crown has to be rightfully worthy of it. Or else, there could be inside danger that would eventually get out.”

          Zina nodded. “Of course, you’d know that.”

          “I’m smart, vulture.” Amare smirked and Zina rolled her eyes.

          “I need to get myself a girlfriend,” Angel sighed dramatically and the two Asters turned to face him with very wide eyes.

          “Really?” Zina said.

          “You want to?” Amare added.

          “Of course, I want to. So that I won’t be the only one witnessing the cuteness of you both flirting.”

          “We’re not flirting!” they rebelled in harmony, and when Angel arched his eyebrow in a way that said ‘oh really?’, they laughed.

                                                                                ****

          Amare and Zina went through Point 1, Zina waved at her little painted rocks and leaves. The cute gesture made Amare laugh, and they went past Point 2. True to Zina’s word, the stream had dried up and she made Amare thank her for coloring more rocks and leaving them there.

          They got closer to where Zina ran into those boys, and she stopped, traumatized. Amare crouched before her.

          “What . . .are you doing?”

          “Get on.” He craned his neck to face her. “Walking would bring back bad memories. So, get on my back and close your eyes, when we get past this place, I can let you off.”

          Zina took a step back and clucked her tongue. “I’m not letting you piggyback me all the way.”

          “It’s not so far away, vulture. Stop being stubborn, that’s my thing.”

          Zina shook her head and went forward. But with every step she took, an image of her running, being pinned down and punched flicked through her mind. She dug her fingernails into her palms, unable to move.

          “Hey, vulture,” Amare touched her in the same gentle manner he spoke, and even though she knew it was Amare, she still reflexively jumped. “It’s just me. You’re alright.” His voice was soothing and Zina didn’t have the energy to force back her tears. Amare crouched again and she got on, wrapping her arms around his neck. He put his arms underneath her thighs and oh, how sturdy he was, Zina thought.

          “Shut your eyes. There’s nothing here for you to see,” Amare said.

          More tears streamed down Zina’s shut eyes. She hadn’t been given a piggyback ride in a long time. Of course, she was 18 and not really expecting anyone to give her piggyback rides. But Amare carrying her like this brought back memories. Pleasant ones. Ironic, how she was having beautiful memories in a place that would forever ignite bad ones.

          “I’d be bored with my eyes closed like this,” she said in a voice she expected would be hostile, but came out soft. She felt Amare’s laughter through the vibrations of his shoulder.

          “Let me tell you a story.”

          “Pass,” she said immediately.

          “I’m really good at it.” She pinched his arm and he groaned. “Vulture! What was that for?”

          “If you try to tell me a story, all of your skin would be on the soil before we get to Point 3.”

          Amare huffed. “Fine, I’d sing then.” And before Zina could pinch him in rebellion, he had started singing. She still pinched him, but he didn’t stop, and his cool, baritone voice, even though not melodious, made Zina want to listen to it every night before sleeping. He was singing a baby’s lullaby she vaguely remembered Mama singing for Zo when she was little. Pa sang it for them every night till Zo turned 10 and he decided they were too old for it.

          Little butterfly, little butterfly

          Roaming all about, with your wings so bright

          With your tiny flaps, you still reach the sky

          Make sure you rest your head, as you sleep tonight

          When Amare stopped singing, Zina heard him sniffle. She tightened one arm around his neck, loosened the other and used her hand to touch his face. He was crying!

          “Amare,” she whined. “If you cry, I’m going to cry too.”

          He chuckled. “You started it.”

          She tsked. “I didn’t ask you to sing that song. I didn’t even ask you to sing!”

          He smiled, and waited a while, before saying, “My Mama used to sing this for my sister and I every night. I can’t remember any night in my childhood when this song didn’t send me to sleep. When she left . . .everything just . . . went away. I couldn’t sleep without the song, so I was barely sleeping at all.”

          “I’m sorry,” Zina said. “What about . . .your Dada? Didn’t he take it up where she left off?”

          “He was too busy grieving to even remember that he hadn’t lost everybody. That someone was still, even though not completely . . .alive.” He shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about him. I don’t wanna talk about this. Get off.”

          Zina’s heart skipped a small beat. “Are you . . .are you mad at me?”

          Amare scoffed. “Why would I be mad at you? We’re here. And you are as heavy as a sack of yam tubers. Get off.” He literally wriggled his body until she got off laughing.

          “Alright, alright. I’m down.” She laughed again. Amare’s face was still a bit wet with tears, so she reached up to wipe it. He swallowed, watching her like she was the sunset. Or sun rise. She was watching him too, and when they realized it, they flinched, moving away from each other. What Angel would say if he were here!

          “Let’s go,” Amare stretched out his hands. “I’m never leaving you alone again.”

          Zina considered this gesture so sweet and thoughtful. In fact, she badly wanted to grasp big hands that were not callous. But she was still Zina, nonetheless. So she said, “No way, Amare. Stop flirting with me while we’re on a mission or I’d tell Angel.”

          Typical Amare should have replied with something snarkier, but he looked down at his outstretched arms and blushed. “If I wanted to flirt with you, vulture, you would be in my arms, not talking to me. Kissing me.” There it is.

          It was Zina’s turn to look away from him and blush. “Whatever. Let’s just go.” And they went. Zina didn’t take Amare’s hands, but he never let her out of his sight.

          Marjani stormed into Jael’s room with red, teary eyes. Jael put her lotion aside and pulled Marjani in for a brief hug.

          “Marjani, what happened? Did the Princess die?” She gasped.

          “They’re all the same!” she screamed. “Angel. Amare and Zina. She spoke to me like I didn’t matter. She didn’t even tell me how the Princess was. She just shoved me aside and I’m so worried about the Princess.” Marjani cried and Jael pulled her into her arms again.

          “Now, now, Marjani. There’s no need to cry. Let Zina do as she likes. Her little ‘Princess Haile’s favourite’ attitude is going to end soon. I swear to you.”