fandomtownies | The Park; Monday Afternoon.

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The Park; Monday Afternoon.

Adah's original intention had been to go to the library to continue her research on the experiment results, her nose stuck in a thousand books among the familiar comforting shelves. But then there were birds, many birds, flocking birds, Australian birds, of a fascinating nature perhaps only bested by some of the birds she saw in the Congo, the birds that only the quiet and patient (and therefor very few) had ever even seen, much less known about.

The only books, then, with Adah's nose for company today would be the ornithology book given to her so many years ago by Brother Fowles, and her own notebook, as she sat quietly at the base of a tree in the park, sketching out their feathered forms, noting the details of their wing structures, the curves of their beaks and how that associated with their methods of obtaining food, the point (or lack thereof) of certain plummage and features, and thinking that if she could be anything other than a half-brained, half-bodied human, and a simple one-celled viral organism was out of the question, a bird wasn't a bad second choice. And if she wasn't going to be a doctor, she'd be an ornithologist, no question about it.

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Her conversation with Tyler earlier had left River lost in complicated plans involving movement through ventilations systems and the correct use of explosives. The birds were distracting though, and she found her mind stuck somewhere in between birds wings and bombs.

Then another distraction appeared in the form of familiar thoughts and River froze, watching Adah leaning over her notebook.

A bird in flight, frozen, not really a bird, but once was, the same bird that people in Kilanga thought ate the souls of children and the recently deceased. Adah noticed River there at the edge of her periphery birds, but continued for a moment longer, having to not want to leave the details of the plumage of the kookaburra incomplete. And then a look at the finished picture, comparing it to the sketching in her book of birds rather than the actual thing sitting in front of her nearby. Plenty of time, emit fo ytnelp, for River to take flight if she'd wanted to before Adah lifted her head and glanced her way, blinking simply. They'd done such a good job of either consciously or unintentionally avoiding each other that, even if Adah was one to say anything, she wouldn't know what it would be.

River remained unmoving and silent. For someone who didn't know better it might seem that she was just watching Adah, but of course River was listening or blocking out thoughts, or a combination of both. Her body gave no hint as to which.

It really didn't matter which, for the most part, because Adah wasn't thinking much about the matter; her mind was still bird-brained on all the work she'd been doing, and, if there was a thought spared for the frozen ghost of the past nearby, it was simply a weary one thinking that at least she was only here for a little over a month and, given how rarely they encountered each other on even such a small island, that meant she wouldn't have to deal with the awkwardness of how neither of them seemed to be capable of just being regular human beings in the other's presence. Adah felt like the fact that she felt nothing much at all was probably a firm indication of her heartless, blackened soul, and River...well, she had no idea what River thought; she wasn't a mind reader.

But even just a minute of this made her feel exhausted, so she thought she'd try the human thing. Her pencil shifted in her hand, fingers wrapping around it, and then she lifted it up, cocked it slightly, a wave of sorts, a simple, human acknowledgment of another human among the birds. Clean, sterile, basic, polite.

Taking a step backwards, River looked up at a bird perched on a branch high above her head. Of course she had been listening. How could she not? But she should know better, she told herself, when Adah's lack of emotion stung and made her draw her breath. Her instinct was to cause pain in return, but all she could think of was:

"A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw."

No Snikcidy Lime. Of course. Dully, Adah shifted her eyes upward to follow River's gaze. Now, of course, she was feeling something, thought that something remained undefined beyond that of a metaphorical heart caught in the tightness of her trachea as it tried to leap off her tongue with the continuation of the verse.

"And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass."

For all intents and purposes, she had intended to spend these last weeks as a reborn, selective mute, but it was so quiet that she could easily have blamed it on the chill in the breeze.

A reaction, although vague, and River finished the poem:

"Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home

Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, splashless, as they swim."

She had always been quick to memorize things. Words, music, dance steps, it was all the same. "Will swim again before I leave."

Layers of meaning stacked up before Adah's eyes as they shifted back toward River at the end of her recitation, and she didn't know which was the right one. None of them made much sense; not all of them were even directly connected, but they all gripped on tightly to that one word, swim, miws, turn it upside down and it's the same damn thing. Butterflies and pilots in flight, slippery bathtub copulations, endless drowning from the failure to stay afloat, dragged down by the dead weight of useless limbs.

Riddles inspiring a thousand turning circles. River knew this, and that they didn't exactly have time on their hands for these continuous convolutions. If she had anything she wanted to say, she should just say it. Or write it. And not leave Adah guessing, wondering which one of her multiple favorite sins (pride, vanity, lust, sloth, paralysis, fear) was driving her answers.

It had been a while; her brain had been dulled by the ease of much simpler minds that didn't play these games.

"Simpler minds don't require you to use the full capacity of your brain," River said. Her voice was more amused than unkind. Her own thoughts had been more on Adah's reluctance to swim deep waters, or to fly in space, which to River was very much the same. Of course, the risk of drowning was something that would concern most people, and Adah had a future to look forward to. "If I drown, will you remember me?" It was a simple question, and River hoped it would not come across as begging.

Edited 2008-07-28 21:06 (UTC)

"Some things are impossible to forget," Adah muttered, her voice not low because of any animosity, simply for the sake of her reinstated attempt at muteness. And that was another thing about simpler minds; they didn't know when her scattered half brain went drifting on multiple paths with the agility that her body lacked, meandering beyond her control. Impossible to forget, impossible to think. Simpler minds couldn't hold against her what they didn't realize, what even she didn't realize half the time.

River couldn't help it, she had to follow those thoughts, even if she clung to the spoken words. Said aloud, they were the conclusion, the closest to the coherent version, and just hinted to what was unspoken. Part of River wanted to offer more apples and more bathtubs, but the vole skeleton had been crushed and its broken bones scattered. No repair possible, and that was for the best. Still, one thing River couldn't resist:

"I would teach you to swim before I leave." It was a dare, and an offer she expected Adah to reject, but River smiled. She had taught Adah things before that the other girl did not think was something she would be able to do.

Adah shook her head slightly. The thought that River was just speaking in metaphors nibbles at her brain, but she firmly told herself that, after everything, they couldn't be metaphors. No more riddles between them, no more subtext and hidden meanings. Just what was said, for what it was, and that was all there could be, even if Adah did still occasionally miss their games. It took a perfect lagoon, shallow waters, and tears that they had to both ignore for the Eel to even get her into the water, and from there it was mostly all clinging and threats.

"I'm not interested in learning," Adah said, driving steadily on the literal. "It's impossible to swim with only half a body, River. It would be like rowing a boat with one oar, kept on the same side. Circle and circle and circle, getting absolutely no where but dizzy."

River shrugged. "More ways than one to swim." But clearly that didn't interest Adah, and River had guessed the answer beforehand.

"You missed the small curve of the wing," she continued. "Not essential for function. Just an oddity, a peculiar feature, differentiating this species from another. So small, easily overlooked, like the flip of a hand in a dance." There was a small smile, and then River turned and walked away.

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ecirpnellehada.livejournal.com - 2008-07-28 21:54 (UTC) - Expand

Sometime later in the afternoon, after being fabulous (or so he thought) at class, Lee found himself wandering (or maybe he was looking) and sometimes his wandering found him something good.

"Enjoying the weather?" he asked, all casual and relaxed.

The earlier encounter with River had left Adah's mood descending almost as much as the crooked curve of her back, increased as she leaned in even closer to her notebook, her details on any following sketches meticulous, careful not to miss anything. Quick little strokes, almost entirely even on the plumage of a cockatoo except for a few ruffled by the wind, and then she paused, considering whether or not to look up.

She did, the ends of her hair brushing the brushes of her pencil, turning her head to offer a faint smile. "A little chilly for my tastes," she said, and then, slowly and carefully, sat up, rolling her spine in the crooked S it wanted to follow before she could sit back against the tree and look up at the Eel more comfortably. "But there are birds."

In case he didn't notice.

"I didn't know you liked birds," he said and smiled. "I've never really noticed, to be honest."

"Well," Adah gave the Eel a light smile back, "it isn't exactly as blatant as my love for microbes, but it's Africa's fault. So many amazing birds in the jungle, and then along came one Christmas, and Brother Fowles, the Catholic who had the mission before my father took it, gave me this." She jerked her head toward the book laying open on the grass, and its detailed coverage of the cockatoo. "It was the first new reading material I had for ages; I ate it up. An obsession was born."

There was a slight pause, her eyes drifting toward the book. "Also, birds can often carry many things that cause diseases, so the two interests can sometimes intermingle..."

"I knew you were only in it for the diseases," he teased, wandering over some to peer at the book.

"When the threat of them rules your life for three years," Adah commented lightly, "they tend to be a little pervasive." She watched him a little as he went to look at the book, and tilted her notebook his way a little. "I've been drawing a little, too," she said, showing him the sketches.

"Hidden talent," he said, kneeling down to look at her sketches now. "I didn't know you sketched."

"Right brained," Adah explained. "Tends to lean toward the artistic, and that's all I am." She shot him a sudden smirk. "You do know that my name is Adah, I have dark hair, light eyes, and a disease of the brain that causes a near paralysis in one half of my body, right?"

"I am not that dumb," he said and mock glared. "I have many facets. I am a complicated man."

"I was only checking," Adah said, meeting his glare with a lift of her chin. "For all I know, you might have had amnesia. But you're right. You are; I'm sure there are a few details about you that have slipped my notice, too."

"Probably," he said and smiled. "I'm a pretty open book. For all that I'm complicated, I'm pretty simple."

Looking over at him for a long moment, an amused and skeptical look on her face, Adah only then remarked, "Philosophy, for example..."