6.

Chapter 6

 

RUBIN

 

“Get a move now, George!”

“But Lilia, she is still sleeping. I do not–”

“What? Tell me more of yer lame reasons, aye? We know we cannot delay. She have a hard time alrigh’, but she has to prepare. Like righ’ now!” I could hear a set of feet shuffling across the floor and I hastily turn my back against the door, biting my lip as I hear it open.

"Rubin, I know yer awake. Yeh don't sleep with yer mouth closed." Oh, okay then. I opened my mouth, and continue to pretend to be asleep. "Francesca Rubin--"

"Okay, okay. I'm up, already! Don't get your knickers twisted up your bottoms, Aunt Lilia."

Well, that earned me a pillow zooming on my direction and hitting me on the head. I collapsed on the bed dramatically, snickering. “A-a-ouch!” I put both of my hands on my forehead, pretending to be hurt. Aunt Lilia shakes her head at me before throwing another pillow.

Uncle George sat down on my bed and gave me a smile, “I’ve heard what happen, I can’t believe you finish as first. Excellent!” I gave him a shy smile and watch as Aunt Lilia put her arms around me and sniffed, “I’m gonna miss yeh so much! I know I ‘ave tried ter stop yeh from being a Cupid bu’ understand, I don’t wan’ yeh ter go.”

I stared at their sad faces, feeling miserable all of a sudden for I have to leave.

They really act like my parents but still, they aren't. These distracting thoughts killed the mood. I stand up, settling near the window, I can hear Aunt Lilia and Uncle George whispering to each other, making me sigh, "We're not in the library, you know."

Uncle George look around, awkwardly twisting the ends of his dress shirt. Aunt Lilia's furrowed brows etched deeper on her face as she made a move towards me, taking me into her arms. "I know yeh are sad tha’ yer parents are not here bu’ we cannot do anything ‘bout it. We 're ‘ere to support yeh always, don’ forget that." She kiss my forehead and ran her hands on my ginger locks.

"I know that, Aunt Lilia. I know you loved me like I am your own but," I stared off the window, trying to stop my tears, "I just miss them. I wish my parents are alive and here–"

Uncle George cleared his throat, momentarily distracting me. I look at him but he chose  to avoid my gaze, acting a bit dodgy. I remembered our conversation from yesterday and pointed it out, "Uncle, aren't you going to tell me about the bet? You promise me.” Uncle George looks at me and reluctantly he walks towards us. “Alright…”

"I know that my father look like you only with a different eye color." I ran my hands on my Uncle's cheek and smiled at him.  “So, about the bet?” I ask my Uncle George but he is not looking at me, he is staring at my Aunt Lilia as if they are conversing silently. "Uncle, Auntie, Is there something you want to say?"

"No, dearie," Aunt Lilia replied.

"Yes, dearie," Uncle George mused.

Their replies caught me off guard as I look at the both of them, a bit suspicious of the way Aunt Lilia let go of me and sat on the bed while Uncle George started chewing his bottom lip.

"Ruby--"

"George, no. We vowed ter protect her!"

"Protect me? From what?"

They both stared at me, Aunt Lilia, now standing up, "George--"

"Lilia, I can't. Sixteen years is enough!" I could feel my Uncle's arms loosening, making me take a step back, staring at him.

"What are you saying Uncle? What sixteen years? What protection are you talking about?" He looks down at me, powder blue eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

"We vowed to protect you from the knowledge of your past, Rubin, we swore to keep it from you."

"What do you mean? What past? " I turn to my Aunt Lilia before looking back at my Uncle. "You told me that you raised me because Mom and Dad died during the assault. You treat me like I was your own because you have no children. We spend holidays together, laugh and dance…Isn't all of that true?"

"It is true. But can you remember your 3rd  or 4th or 5th  birthday? Do you have bizarre dreams about playgrounds that do not look like the ones we have here in Eros?" Uncle George throw question after question at my direction that the memories flashed behind my eyes, blindingly yet still blurred. "How about those times when you will wake up and scream 'mommy'? The little bunny bear you have, and the reason why no other Erosian child have a toy like that or would even think to name their toy, ‘Tookie’?" My Uncle's face is so red that I am afraid he will collapse because of it. With a broken voice, he whispered, "Do you ever wonder why you have these memories? Have it ever crossed your mind that everything felt peculiar and different when you arrive because you are not born here?"

I am speechless. I look at Aunt Lilia as she silently cried, hugging my bunny bear closer to her arms as Uncle George panted, his face so red with his outburst.

"Aunt Lilia, is this true?"

"Yer memory 'as been tampered with, Rubin. Yer real name was Crimsyn, a beautiful name yet it’s the mark of the earth on yeh so they change it, along with yer whole identity.” I whispered my name–Crimsyn. My mother have chosen that name for me and now I am called Rubin because they wipe away my memories–how insensitive! I frown, listening as my aunt continue, “Me and yer Uncle agreed because we wanted ter have a child and yeh are our opportunity. I do not want ter lie to yeh but in exchange of yer protection, we agreed."

"And Grandma knows all this?"

Aunt Lilia nodded on my direction, hastily wiping a stray tear on her face. "Then why did you all lie to me? Why did you just tell me now?" I felt betrayed and lost that another part of myself has been stolen and kept for so many years.

“We did not mean ter lie, Rubin. We just have ter do it!” Aunt Lilia insisted, her face flushed. I shake my head.

Uncle George slowly pull me to the window with my Aunt Lilia and him holding my hand, gently leading me on. He caress my cheek and whispered, "Your dad was just like you, a cupid sent down to earth, when he met your mom..." Uncle snatched a cloud from the window and conjure it to form into a man with wings watching a woman cloud.

The cloud man looks so real that I have to think of him as conjured. I sadly smiled at the cloud man as I listen to my Uncle George continuing the story, "He was bold, intelligent and daring. Marcus wanted to change some laws here in Eros including the most sacred one--"

"To give love and not receive it," I recited it with my heart, having heard of it all the time and reminded of it's weight ever since I could remember.

"That made Marcus so cunning. He stayed longer on earth even after his mission, pretending to be human. With his wits, he had managed to capture a few women, dragging them across town like lost puppies. He made them obsess over his body and his face. He enjoyed the attention very much it scared him, sometimes–for we are susceptible to temptations more than humans do." Uncle George shook his head as we watch the cloud man flirt with the other clouds which also took form into women. "But to his greatest disappointment, there seems to be a woman unaffected by all this."

"Well, I assume that it is my Mum, right?"

"Of course. Under the name of Emily, this gentle human didn't believe your father's stories of adventure and knew from the moment he started chasing her around, that the man, your father, was in fact an ethereal creature. "

The cloud man started chasing  the woman cloud around my room until finally he have caught her in his arms.

"In time, he had managed to break down her walls and she had fallen for him after all he had done to win her. She was a tough one, your mother. The longer they spend time together only deepen what your father feel for her. They are so happy, he is so happy, that he forgot the fact that he is still Cupid," I watch both of the clouds as they sat on the floor. They were laughing, chasing each other around my room.

Uncle George’s eyes lingered at the clouds for a moment, his hands weaving the air as to keep the man cloud and the woman, moving. He took a deep breath before Uncle look at me smiling, "Then they had you, you  mischievous little sod." My uncle pinched my nose and I wave my hands on his direction, urging him to continue. The clouds from awhile ago are now together with a little puff on the arms of the woman cloud. Aunt Lilia pulled me to her arms and I frown as Uncle continue his story, in a voice now filled with grief.

"Marcus, with great desperation, faked his death so he could be with you and Emily. Mother found out about his plan, of his faked death and his whereabouts with Cedric’s information. Cedric, rejoicing of what our younger brother did, encourage our mother to hunt him down and kill you and Emily," Uncle George’s face is stony and cold as I stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I did not agree, of course. Killing Emily is horrible but killing you, a child? It is unforgiveable–for we consider children as Holy. Hearing  my opinion, Mother agreed that you will be accepted back to Eros like a normal child and be told of a different past. That is how you are with us now, living and well." Uncle George enveloped Aunt Lilia and me on his arms, his light gold wings sprouting from his back forming some kind of a shield.

Frowning, I wriggled out of his embrace and whispered, "But, my father...and my mother?" Uncle George withdraw his arms and Aunt Lilia look down at me with pity, "Are they still alive?"

There is silence and I hang on to that. I do not want to hear the words as my Uncle look down and shook his head.

I sniffed, pushing Aunt Lilia's hands away from me as she tried to hug me, "What is the use of telling me all this if the ending is the same? They're dead. No difference! Nothing at all." I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out loud. This felt a hundred times worse than before, knowing about my mother and father's forbidden love and how it had killed him in the end.

"There is a difference for now, you know the truth." Uncle George took my face on his large hands and wipe my tears. " You are going down to earth, to the place of temptations, hatred and grief–I consider it going in a field that involves roses and thorns. It is a depiction of heaven and hell clashing and forming into one that we fear that you might just end up like your father..." My hands tighten on my Uncle's hand, trying to remove them but they didn't move an inch away from my face.  I want to move farther away from them, and pretend that they are not in the same room with me. I wanted to be alone and mourn my parents I have no memories of.

Sadly, that’s not the case.