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thecagedsong · 3 years

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Forgotten Light Chapter 16: Djinni

A/N: Posting this now so I don’t accidentally go back on my word and post the Tess chapter. Seth is up to Shenanagains of the life-threatening sort, just as he ought to be. Baby tries so hard.

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Chapter 15: Djinni

Unfortunately, they could not leave that afternoon to investigate the poisoned pool like was planned, as the Triclops didn’t give them an opportunity. It spent the whole afternoon and evening swinging an uprooted tree back and forth around the confines of their little sanctuary.

“All right,” Seth said, that night, “Need a new plan.”

“The plan is to get some sleep and try again in the morning. This island is big, he’ll go somewhere else eventually,” Warren said, rubbing his eyes, “You’re on Fablehaven’s timezone, right? No way you aren’t exhausted.”

“But the longer we wait to get a good look at the pool, the more likely we lose our clues,” Seth pleaded.

“Believe us Seth,” Vanessa said, “We know and we don’t like this. If it is still there in the morning, we’ll change the plan so that Warren and I act as decoys, luring the triclops away so your group can investigate. Preserves are too dangerous at night if it can be avoided.”

“Maybe too dangerous for you,” Seth scoffed.

“I understand your frustration,” Vanessa said, “I love Kendra too, and at least she knows that you are her brother. I will not face her having lost her brother, the only one she knows even a little bit, to preventable dangers. Sleep. I have potions for you if you need it.”

Seth looked behind her to Warren, who gave him a warning look that his arguing was at an end. He looked back at Vanessa’s dark eyes and firm set features.

“Fine,” Seth said. “I’ll take a sleeping potion, but not one that knocks me out completely.”

“More of a drowsy solution, I promise,” Vanessa said, going to her dufflebag. She mixed some powders and fruit juice, and held it out, “It will not work right away, so you can get back to your room, even if you drink it now.”

Seth tilted his head, “Hey, if you controlled me in my sleep, could you use my shadowcharmer abilities? Shadewalking, speaking to the undead, that kind of stuff?”

Vanessa didn’t answer until he drank the potion, then said, “I do not know. I have controlled wizards and felt their magical cores, but without their knowledge of spellcraft, I was unable to use their magic. Magic is not for the use of mortals. The best comparison would have been controlling Kendra, but her mind was protected, and I could not seize her. I would have to re-bite you and attempt, as Bracken broke off our previous connection. I could not attempt to guess, Seth, and I won’t experiment with you. If your abilities are needed, I trust you to use them well, as I hope you trust me to keep you safe during the attempt.”

“That’s actually really touching, I’m touched Vanessa,” Seth said, holding a hand over his heart, “I must be the most unique thing you aren’t interested in biting.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes, “I have bitten creatures of the dark, and they all taste nasty. Creature of the shadows, and teenage boy? That is a very easy pass.”

“You actually taste people when you bite them?” Seth asked, “Who tasted the best? Was it Kendra? I bet it was Kendra. I bit her once when we were kids.”

“And we’re done with that conversation,” Warren said, stopping Vanessa from answering. “Forever. Off to bed before the drowsy hits, scoot.”

“What? You don’t want to know if you tasted better or worse than—” Vanessa started teasing, and Seth was quick to back out of that conversation. Fourteen years old, and he did not need to know biting preferences for Vanessa, and how her boyfriend ranked.

Seth fell asleep, and woke up to the moon hitting his face, almost blinding. He felt refreshed and awake, not a hint of drowsy. It was rare he woke up like this, normally Kendra was awake first. Seth sat up. Or, he tried too, but sleeping in a hammock made sitting up a test of abdominal muscles. He rolled out of his hammock, took note that Tanu was sleeping across from him, Calvin wrapped up in a handkerchief for a blanket on the windowsill, and Seth quietly made his way out of the hut.

He wandered until he realized that the whispers of the undead were getting louder. Then he walked with a purpose up spiral stairs and across rope bridges he stopped before a door carved into what had to be the biggest tree in existence. It felt like the Blackwell, though a little less desperate. Instead of suffering pleas, there were questions about directions.

Left here, and again…or was it right?

A thousand repetitions of this circle should get me out…

Does wandering endlessly truly break up the monotony of eternal existence?

“I see…this is what it means to be a shadow charmer,” Savani’s voice broke his listening, and he saw the woman step onto the platform behind him.

“Yep, walking around in the middle of the night to figure out where the undead are,” Seth said. “And your excuse?”

Savani held up a bracelet of three large shells and several smaller shells, “We have three caretaker homes at this preserve, each designed to better weather certain seasons. This is the winter quarter, even though I should have welcomed you in the spring mansion. This bracelet alerts me whenever someone or something approaches one of the prisons at any of the homes, and will transport me to interfere. I assume you were not planning on releasing these entities.”

“No, just wanted to know where they are,” Seth said, looking back at the door, “They sound different than most of the undead. Like they’re…wandering. They think they are going somewhere.”

“The spirits here are trapped by a maze, just as much as they are by the barrier,” Savani said. “My people learned how to draw unwanted entities into certain designs, tricking them into wandering those corridors rather than through the village. It is a complicated magic, but one that does not require a wizard if you have the right blood and soul.”

“So like, at least they get puzzle books with their prison sentence, I approve,” Seth said, “They sound a little less miserable than the undead usually do.”

“Are you familiar with Djinni?” Savani asked.

“Genies?” Seth said, the name sounding familiar, “A little. My other Grandma tried to make a deal with one, it got to ask her three questions she had to answer truthfully. When she refused to answer one, the Genie turned her into a chicken.”

“I lost one of my staff to similar circumstances concerning the Djinni that rests just inside this door. A spirit that wandered here from the mainland; they were not so easily trapped by our mazes, but fell remarkably easily to four walls,” she said, thinking, “My sister, Alma, engaged in the question game, three for three, taking turns, and learned that the sunset pearl had been taken off the preserve before Djinni asked how to unweave spirit mazes and she refused to answer.”

“They only know about stuff inside the preserve right?” Seth asked.

“Only when asked can she gain access to her sight, which extends to past and a little into the future,” Savani said. “My sister’s remaining questions that she could not ask were about who took the sunset pearl, and the location of the Weki flute that soothes the triclops.”

“I can go in and ask her,” Seth volunteered.

Savani laughed, “I could never ask you to go in with so little preparation!”

“Seems to me everyone fails at the game because they had too much preparation,” Seth said. “You need to let your non-local idiot walk in with absolutely no preparation. I don’t know anything about this preserve or what might free her. Sure I know some secrets, but nothing that would help her get free. And it’s just information. She can’t ask me to do things for her, right?”

“The young always risk their lives for so little,” Savani said, shaking her with a quiet laugh. “Even if I were willing to lose another ally to that monster after losing my sister, something I’m sure you understand, none of your protectors would let you go over them.”

“That’s why we do it here and now,” Seth said, “I’ve negotiated with tougher customers than this. I’ve talked down both the Totem Wall and the Singing Sisters. And I convinced a centaur to let me ride on his back. I’m pretty talented at walking away from these things.”

“That is impressive,” Savani said, “But even with those dangerous consultations in your past, our situation is not so risky. And wandering towards the most secure prison at night alone does not convince me that you have the discipline to converse with this creature. Any word out of your mouth that is not the answer the answer to her question after you enter her chamber is a lie and gives her freedom to leave. You strike me as the sarcastic sort, and that will get you killed.”

“Yeah, some of my wraith friends didn’t get my jokes either,” Seth said, remembering Whiner. “I suppose knock-knock jokes are out?”

“Most definitely,” Savani said, “You are refreshing to speak to. Much like Warren, but less burdened. Does the chill of this dungeon not bother you?”

“Chill?” Seth asked, looking around, “It’s been ridiculously hot since we got here. It finally feels nice.”

“The unnatural dread make many fail to converse with the Djinni,” Savani said thoughtfully. “After speaking, I am a bit more inclined to let you try with the Djinni, and hold back my assent almost solely on the rifts I do not wish to cause with the rest of our allies. Should the triclops still haunt us when they awake, I will allow you to present this plan as an option to them.”

“Sounds like permission to me,” Seth said. He spun and grasped the door handle. In that touch, he found himself on the opposite side of door. Apparently just touching the doorknob was enough to get a mortal inside the prison, though he was willing to bet it would take the caretaker to get out. There was a single door to his right, and beyond that a spiral staircase covered with woven mats of crazy designs. He felt the presence of wraiths and the undead just before him, and it took a bit to figure out that they were trapped inside the mats.

Then a phantom stumbled up the stairs, and he realized not all of them were trapped in mats. Just to his left was a door with another handle and no hinges.

Expecting it this time, Seth reached out and grasped the handle.

“Oh? Two visitors so close together after a century of silence,” the Djinni said. “A baby shadow charmer, no less. I assume you are here to play my riddle game like that last one.”

The Djinni was surprisingly pretty. Usually Kendra got the pretty ones, and he got the cool ones who were half skeleton half putrid guts. The flowing pink dress threw him for a second. But she had white skin, red eyes, and choppy blue hair. Her skin was smooth, except for the bags under her eyes, and her hair looked like it could use a good washing.

Seth nodded to the Djinni’s question.

Then he breathed in, and a hand came up over his mouth to stop him from gagging. His eyes left the Djinni to the ground next to her, covered partially by her cloak. For some reason, when Savani said her sister had been killed by the Djinni, he had never imagined what had happened to her sister’s body. This wasn’t like the zombie farm, or even when Coulter died in his arms. The body was weeks decayed. Skin and organs were liquifying and leeking over the floor, bones starting to jut out on the ribcage and he could only be glad he couldn’t see Savanni’s sister’s face.

“I have a fondness for little adventurers,” the Djinni said with a rosy smile, watching him watch the body. She even threw in a casual caress of her last victim. “I will recite the rules for you if you nod now.”

Seth nodded, suddenly regretting everything. He made himself focus on the Djinni.

“Very well, my rules are simple,” she said, standing up but still leaning against the wall of her prison cell, “You may only speak the answers to my questions and questions of your own. You have as much time as you need to answer. Should you speak else, I may extract a price from you for disturbing me, and as you can see, it includes killing you. Should you speak a lie, I am freed from my prison and will enjoy wrecking the meager protections left to this house on my way out. My sight it limited to this preserve, but it extends to everywhere in this preserve and all the way through the past, and twenty-eight days into the future. You may indicate you are unsatisfied with my answer, but may not ask follow-up questions, I can do the same. Upon being satisfied with my final answer, you will be teleported out of my diminutive abode. Nod if you are ready to begin, little adventurer.”

Simple rules. Follow the rules, and they can’t touch you. He would just have to think through his answers before speaking. Despite what Kendra says, he can think before talking. At least, that’s what Kendra used to say, and probably wouldn’t take long to say again. Seth nodded and made himself remove his hands and accept the smell. The smell wasn’t worse than the zombie farm, even if the body was.

“Then I, Skamboli, ask this for my first question: what are the ways out of my confinement that you know about?” she asked.

Seth thought for a minute, going over each way he thought might work.

“I only know a few,” Seth said slowly, “if I tell a lie, you are free. I assume that if the caretaker released you, you could go free. I don’t know for sure, but I assume if someone busted down your door from the outside, you would probably be freed. Burned the tree prison down, though you might die that way. And…a trained shadow charmer, not me, could probably unlock your door. People have told me that once I learn control over my powers, I can undo locks, but I don’t know how yet.”

Skamboli waited, but nothing happened. “Very honest, I approve. Though a wiser adventurer would not volunteer information about their weaknesses. You may ask your first question.”

Better ask Savani’s questions first. “Who took the sunset pearl?”

Her red eyes flashed white for a second then went back to red. “The dark unicorn goes by many names, but you know him as Ronodin. He stole the pearl on his first visit to this sanctuary.”

That was bad and good. Bad, because Ronodin likely put it where he was keeping Kendra, on the Phantom Island, but good because it narrowed their goals and they were already working on getting to the Phantom Isle anyway. Maybe he could use the horn to send a message to Bracken to pick up the pearl on his way out with Kendra?

Seth nodded at the Djinni, hopefully indicating he was satisfied with her answer. Not looking at the body. She never said he could verbally say if he was satisfied, just dis-satisfied, and didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t want to talk more than he had to.

“Is there any questions I could ask that you would be unwilling to answer?” Skamboli said. This was the question that left grandma laying eggs for months.

Again, Seth thought carefully.

“Plenty of things I wouldn’t want to answer,” Seth decided, “Embarrassing moments, secrets about our plans against the dragons in the upcoming dragon war that I promised not to share, too much information about my friends and family. Secrets that would result in my death if I shared them with you due to other promises I have made. Really don’t want to share that one, it wouldn’t benefit you at all and would end up with me dead. That one is about my dealings with the Singing Sisters, and wouldn’t interest you at all, so please don’t ask that one. But I would share any of it, if you asked, because I need to take the answers to my questions back to my friends.”

Skamboli waited, then nodded at Seth. Seth hesitated for a moment, because the name of the flute Savani mentioned five minutes ago was already lost from his head. He needed a minute to carefully pick his words.

“Where is the magic flute that can soothe the currently rampaging triclops?” Seth asked at last.

Again, her eyes flashed a blinding white.

“The Weki flute is buried amongst the treasure of the Fairy Queen’s shrine on this island,” Skamboli said.

Uggh, normally they left the fairy shrine stuff to Kendra, though the Fairy King might let him take something from there. Or maybe getting Fairy Struck Tess to ask would be better. Still, much better news than the flute being lost forever. Seth nodded.

“What would convince you to free me from my prison, little adventurer?” she asked, sounding tired.

Seth had not expected that question. What would convince him to free a dangerous being? He took longer to think through his answer to this one than any other. The smell and taste of the last life she had taken all around him, so much worse than the zombie farm.

“A sincere and binding promise to never hurt another sentient being again,” Seth said, at last, and his eyes finally went back to the body. He saw the swollen, distorted face of Savani’s sister, and knew he wouldn’t ever forget it. “But from everything I know, that is against your very nature and an impossible promise to keep.” He looked away and back at her, “Still, if you were able to convince me you’d do that? I’d do my best to help you. I would do my best to convince Savani that you won’t attack her, help find a nice new lair for you somewhere on this preserve. You could have been a lot meaner, a lot stricter and done more to trip me up, but you didn’t, which makes me like you. I have been double crossed a lot in my life though, so I refuse to free you on anything less than a perfect, binding promise.”

Skamboli waited, then nodded, a small smile on her lips. Now it was time for the real reason he had jumped into this encounter, the information that would make it all worth it. He thought over his question a couple of times, looking for loopholes or ways to get more information out of it, and asked.

“Where will my sister Kendra be on the preserve in the next twenty-eight days?”

Again, her eyes flashed white, though this time they softened slowly back to their red. “The future is not certain, but many futures show Kendra at this preserve in 77 hours and making her way to the sacred pool. She will venture into the domain of a wraith, then leave. It grows hazier, but Kendra will also visit the Bridge Cove, then Baga Lao sometime after that. Leaving Baga Lao, she does not return within the time of my sight.”

Kendra. Here. Seth almost said something, almost said thank you, then stopped himself with a snap of his jaw. He nodded.

“That concludes my little game. Congrats, you are the first to pass without retribution in a while. You are right, I cannot promise not to harm in exchange for my freedom. Still, this has been quite entertaining, and in Jighandi even. You have goodness in you, little adventurer, try not to die too quickly on this preserve.”

Seth was transported out. Savani was standing in the little hallway, arms folded, when he appeared. She grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him towards the exit

Savani forcibly shoved him out of the prison, where Grandma was waiting for him.

“So, good news, I wisely used my resources and found out vital information on where Kendra is going to be, as well as the sunset pearl and the flute to stop the triclops” Seth said. “Bad news, I’m going to throw up.”

Seth rushed to the edge of the platform and started heaving, losing the dinner he had eaten.

“I understand now what Ruth and Stan warned me when letting you out of my sight,” Grandma Larsen said, putting a hand on his back. “Of all the trouble I was watching out for, you purposefully going to chat up a djinni never even crossed my mind.”

Tears leaked out of his eyes as he threw up some more. It was horrible, he’d thought that after everything, after regularly conversing with the undead for years, after seeing so many people die, he would never loose his stomach over something like a dead body. But the smell…

…he gagged some more, even though there was nothing left. He was sticky and gross and the humidity made it feel like the vomit was sticking to him more than he knew it was. Eventually a glass of water was offered, and he used it to rinse his mouth. He nodded his thanks at Savani, and accepted the wet towel as well.

His breathing evened out and he said, “For Kendra. I did it for Kendra.”

“Seth, you are part of a team now,” Grandma said, “And you aren’t leading things here like you were back at Wyrmroost. We work together, or not at all. Savani told you she didn’t want you to speak to the Djinni, and you disregarded her. This is her home, hers to protect, and you violated that trust. How is what you did any different than Knox going into the dungeons with Tess to check out the barrel?”

“Savani said the only reason she didn’t want me to talk to the Djinni was that she worried about setting off everyone’s ‘protect Seth’ sensors,” Seth said, not looking her in the eye, “I thought I figured it out, but you’re right, I didn’t know, I wasn’t ready. It’s what I thought I had to do, and I’m sorry.” Savani’s sister’s body flashed in his mind again, the way Skamboli stroked sagging flesh, and he pressed his face into the towel.

He was stronger and braver than this. He was. He had proved it over and over, and he’d seen people die. He’d seen his sister poison herself into a frothing, empty shell. He’d seen battle wounds from the battle of Zzyzx.

This shouldn’t be worse than that, but it was.

Grandma sighed and rubbed his back. “What happened? Tell me.”

“It’s nothing,” Seth said, pulling himself to his feet. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. It just…I wasn’t prepared. I promise I won’t act on my own again.”

“That is not the answer to my question,” Grandma scolded, standing as well, “I don’t care about how Ruth and Stan let you run about and keep secrets, and I don’t care about what you’ve seen before. We are going to confront a demon for training tomorrow, and you have been unsettled and you have been reckless, so we are going to talk until I trust that you can handle what’s going to happen.”

“It doesn’t matter if I talk about it or not,” Seth said, “We need to get me trained so I can get to the Phantom Isle, and we need to do it fast. I can handle a demon, I won’t lose it like that again.”

“Seth, Honey,” Grandma said, and she pulled him into a hug he resisted, “Even those of us who have done dangerous missions on magical preserves our entire lives need people to talk to. People to trust. Time to break down. Mortals aren’t meant for the kind of exposure you and your sister have been through. Special abilities or not. Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing, I mean it,” Seth said, and his eyes found Savani over Grandma’s shoulders, who had been watching patiently the entire time. “It wasn’t worse than seeing Kendra’s stingbulb kill herself, and I got through that, so I’m okay.”

“Shadow charmers have a reputation,” Savani said quietly, “Of moving and operating in the dark, with demons who seal their secrets sworn in blood. I would recommend letting things come to light, if you can. If you are trying to spare me, I think I have guessed what unsettled you. I had hoped this Djinni to favor the clean and quick kill, but we knew the consequences.”

“I’m sorry,” Seth said, hoping she understood the extent of his apology.

“Ahh,” Grandma said releasing him, “Death. You have dealt far too much with loved ones and friends dying for your age, and you have dealt much with those long dead, the process in between is…unpleasant, unsettling.”

“It smelled really bad,” Seth admitted, closing his eyes and seeing the body all over again. “Worse than the zombie farm. I don’t know how I breathed, much less talked. It was just…everywhere in that small cell. I won’t try something like that again, not without a lot more preparation and talking it out with everyone.”

Savani said nothing for a long moment, “You make raising my own son look easy, Seth Sorenson. I believe your sincere desires, though it will take a while for me to trust your restraint. Gloria, remain by Seth’s side for the remainder of his stay here. He does not understand our magic, and while that saved him from knowing anything that could help the Djinni, it also made him dangerous to the integrity of the Woven Prison.”

“That is acceptable,” Grandma said.

Savani sighed, and shook her head, “That being said, the information you gathered is invaluable and I am also in your debt for asking. I was listening at the door and recorded everything. We will work on securing the flute, preparing for Ronodin’s return, and locating the Sunset Pearl. We will have much to discuss when the rest of our companions awake.”

Grandma nodded, “I agree, come Seth. There is still three hours until dawn, and we need what rest we can, even if sleep is gone. You will be sleeping in my room from now on.”

Seth winced, but it was hardly the worst punishment he could have gotten. Probably better than he should have gotten. The women turned to leave.

Seth went to the room his Grandmother had been using, to laid down in the second bed, while Grandma Larsen curled up in hers. No more hammock after tonight. He thought he had been past his impulse issues. He had been careful at Wyrmroost to not take unnecessary risks, to consult Kendra in most things, and he had felt good. Like he had learned his lesson and finally grown into someone worth trusting with important stuff.

Now it felt like he was back to square one. Back to being the dumb kid that captured fairies overnight and trusted demons.

Seth missed his sister.

#Forgotten Light #Fablehaven #Dragonwatch #Seth Sorenson #Finally I don't start a chapter with a handwritten note #baby seth #tw: gore #I guess #graphic description of a decaying body

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novemberseas-novemberskies · 5 years

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Riders Challenge 12: Reflection

John’s Perspective

Gwen and I cheer wildly as we see Whiskey’s lithe form come screaming across the finish line yards ahead of the second rider. He’s done it! Somehow, some way he’s done! I wait for him to pull up, to pump a fist in the air, to come riding back to us to celebrate. But he doesn’t. In a second our elation turns to horror as Whiskey turns to the sea, and I am off down the sand, running and slipping and desperate to reach him. But my speed is no match for a capall uisce hungry for saltwater. I reach the water just as Whiskey rears his head back and disappears under the water with barely a ripple.

“No!”

The word tears itself out of my throat and I am now waist-deep in the sea, charging forward. I’ve got to get to him, I’ve got to pull him back to shore. I take a deep breath, preparing to dive into the icy water. But then Gwen’s got her arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly. I fight her, thrashing in the water, scanning desperately for a sign, any sign at all, of Will. He can’t be gone. I can still get to him. I can still save him.

“John, John, it’s too late. He’s gone, John. Please come back to shore.”

Gwen’s tears mix with the seawater dripping from her face as I turn to her, searching her eyes wildly for any hint of hope, begging her to let me go. But she just shakes her head and grabs my hand, pulling me toward shore. Chaos is all around us. Fights have broken out at the finish line. Injured and dying riders litter the sand. All around us capaill uisce break free and charge toward the sea. There is blood in the water, I can smell it, taste it, and allow Gwen to lead me to safety. There is no cause for more needless death today.

I don’t realize how cold I am until I am sitting by the stove in our cottage wrapped in three blankets and Gwen in forcing a second mug of very hot tea into my hands. She is still dripping wet, her long braid slicked to her neck and lips blue, and she shivers violently as she moves about the kitchen.

“Gwen, Love, come sit by the fire. You’ll catch your death.”

“John, I love you, and I love the care you have for me, but if I stop moving now I will not get up again. I will sit and I will break and I will not be able to get up again.”

So I let her do what she must, and I stare into the fire. Will is gone. Just like that. He’s gone and he is not coming back. I will not see him come swaggering off the ferry again next year, nor reminisce about our days in France. I will no longer be comforted by the knowledge that he too carries the memories that are easier to bear when there is someone with whom to share that burden. That knowledge crushes me, and I place my head in my hands, shoulder shaking. He at least can go to his peace now, put down that burden, and if there is any goodness at all in this world, he be with the man he loves.

Finally, Gwen comes to sit beside me, and I wrap my arms around her, breathing in the cold island air on her skin.

“The war killed him the end, I think,” I murmur through numb lips. “His spirit’s been broken for years, since we came home from France, I think. Maybe longer. I knew it the moment I saw him two years ago. I hate to say that I was surprised to see him still with us this year, but… I’d hoped, really hoped that I could help him, that being here would show him that even our worst war wounds can be healed. I’d hoped… Jesus I don’t know what I’d hoped for. But not this. Anything but this.”

Gwen just holds me tighter. I know she doesn’t know what to say, know that she’s seen and known loss as intimately as I have, and her presence is the only thing preventing me from simply collapsing. Around us, the festivities of Race Day continue, but we want no part of them. I’m not sure I’ll want any part of them every again.

----------------------------------------------

There is no body to bury, so Gwen and I say a simple prayer over the sea and toss a wreath of holly into the waves. Gwen sings ‘The Last Post’ so sweetly through her tears, and we watch until the wreath disappears beneath the surface as the final words ring through the clear, cold air. There’s nothing more to be done. And so we make our way back up to the cottage, silently, solemnly. All I want is to curl up in bed and let sleep carry me away from the grief, but there is someone standing on our doorstep. A race official, looking very uncomfortable with his bowler hat in one hand and an envelope in the other.

“Can we help you?” I ask. It comes out much more rudely than I mean it too, but I have no energy for courtesy.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve got the winnings for you.”

“The… what?”

“The winnings, Mr. Goveny.”

“What winnings?” The words aren’t making sense.

“Mr. Lackland left very explicit instructions for what was to happen to his winnings were he to er, expire in the course of the Race. It’s very unorthodox but-”

“I don’t want,” I snap, opening the door to the cottage with every intention of slamming it in this man’s face, but he has the audacity to follow us inside.

“W-Well, it was a legally binding document. Signed, witnessed, and notarized. All on the level.”

“Bloody lawyers,” I sighed. “Fine. Give it here then.”

The man hands me the envelope, and then very quickly backs out of our cottage with an odd, awkward little bow a tip of his hat.

I don’t need to open the envelope to know what’s inside, and how much. I was handed an identical envelope two years ago. I toss it onto the kitchen table, wanting to forget about this blood money as fast as I can. But a second envelope flutters to the ground, smaller and thinner than the first. Picking it up and tearing it open, I shake open the single sheet of paper, and begin reading.

Dear John,

I know that money is a poor apology for what you and Gwen must be experiencing at this moment, but I felt it necessary to leave you with something. It was never my intention to die today, but knew it was quite a distinct possibility, and as we both well know, it’s far better to have a plan in place than to simply hope for the best. So here we are. Don’t blame yourself, John. I could never forgive myself in this world or the next were I to know you were living with the guilt of my death. You or Gwen, bless her kind soul. I made my choices and they led me here. And am grateful for it. Because the time I have spent in your home and on your island has been the best I could ask for in my final days. You have shown me kindness, and hope, and warmth. You have given me comfort, and strength, and family. Something inside me has been healed, even as I am no longer among the living. I go to my Maker, or to Hades, or to Valhalla with a lighter heart than I have known in many years. Thank you.

So please live well, the both of you. Use this money as you will to make your lives a happier, easier existence, as you did for me. Think of me fondly.

I remain, forever your brother in arms,

William Lackland

I hand it to Gwen and she reads it with a trembling hand to her lips and tears in her eyes. To the very end, William Lackland was, and is, the kind of man I aspire to be. We will honor his memory as best we can, and I will always raise a glass with sadness, fondness, and love for the man I am honored to call brother.

@thescorpioracesfestival

#Will and Whiskey #and that'll do it for this year folks #thanks again for the wonderful experience #TSRF2018 #TSRF2018 RC12 #The Scorpio Races Festival

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thelifeofaot4student · 4 years

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NOT EVERYTHING IS AS IT SEEMS, NEVER JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER

“Poverty increases maternal stress by heightening exposure to negative life events, job loss, chronic strains, poor housing, dangerous neighbourhoods, and conflict with partners, culminating in crippling depressive symptoms”- (Beeber, Perreira, & Schwartz, 2008).

“Motherhood. It’s exhausting, inspiring, soul-sucking and purpose-giving. It makes you question everything, while also feeling like you know it all” (Joyce, 2019). This is not the case for the mothers of Kenville, who have often been found to have an uninvolved parenting style. This is an example of neglectful parenting and is said to have a huge impact on the child’s health and development. Anyone who doesn’t live in Kenville would most likely judge these mothers for their parenting style and lack of concern for their children’s health, but do they ever stop and ask themselves, if it’s the situation of poverty, illiteracy, unemployment and mental health problems that causes the parents poor child care?

Maternal health is the, “health of women during pregnancy, childbirth and the postnatal period” (WHO, 2020). The health and well-being of the mother is extremely important as it directly impacts on the health and well-being of their child. When it comes to the health of the child, the mother needs to understand that, “early identification and treatment of developmental delays, disabilities and other health conditions among infants can prevent death/disability as well as enable children to reach their full-potential” (ODPHP, 2020). It is important for society to understand maternal and child health, to allow for early intervention and prevent of complications. In this blog I will be discussing why it is important for society to understand maternal and child health, will further analyse the implications that this has for Occupational Therapy and the patients of Kenville Clinic where I am currently working.

The period of pregnancy is the most important phase of the mother and child as “pregnancy can provide an opportunity to identify existing health risk in women to prevent complications for women and their children” (ODPHP, 2020). Health risks such as hypertension, diabetes, depression, STD’s, alcohol and substance abuse and inadequate nutrition should be identified by the healthcare workers during hospital and clinic visits. The services offered at Kenville are more focused on the health of the child instead of the mother, maternal health is very limited. The Nurses at Kenville do not educate the mothers sufficiently about maternal and child health, there is no posters or pamphlets and service is poor as the patients complain about how simple things take the whole day at the clinic. The clinic does not provide any form of promotive and preventative education, only basic everyday services are offered with the rush to leave work early as the clinic stops operating at 1pm.

Being at kenville was a huge personal learning experience for me as I realized that the government and municipality does not allocate the necessary resources in public clinics and hospital for prevention of maternal or infant mortality and pregnancy-related complications. The lack of allocation of resources in public hospitals and clinics is caused by the corruption and looting of funds in South Africa, which hampers health access and affordability. There is a lack of access to safe abortions, appropriate family planning education, postpartum depression psychological service to mothers and infection control education, thus resulting in maternal injury and death that could have been treated or prevented. Private hospitals have less maternal injury and death due to access to quality healthcare and limited corruption, although in general women “in both rich and poor countries bear a disproportionately higher burden of ill-health and death” (Zere, Kirigia, Duale, & Akazili, 2012) due to complications of pregnancy and child birth.

It is important for the society to understand that the physical and cognitive development of the infant and child is highly influenced by the nutrition, health, and behaviours of the mother during pregnancy and early childhood. Mothers who engage in violence and substance abuse (drugs, alcohol and smoking) increase the chance of giving birth to babies that are underweight, stillborn babies, babies with defects, and premature babies. Once the society understands this concept, mothers would receive the necessary support at home and in public to ensure that their mental health and pregnancy is healthy. Having the opportunity to go into the informal settlements and see how poorly most of our patients live, made me learn and understand that it must be hard for mothers to raise a child and take care of themselves. Another personal growth was realizing that my patients are exposed to “a wide range of risks including everyday hazards and health risks due to living conditions as people living in informal settlements face a considerable burden of health” (Herring & Oken, 2010). Being in the informal settlements made me question, how can mothers provide their children with appropriate childcare and health when they can’t even provide them with food and good living conditions? Looking at the Maslow Hierarchy of needs it definitely must be challenging.

There was more personal growth than professional growth for me this week. Professionally I learnt that it is important to address the patients individually than in groups when educating them about maternal and child health. My main personal growth was to never judge a book by its cover and as cliché it may seem, I have learnt to not judge patients for their actions because it’s the situation they in that influence their negative behaviours. Understanding that: “the main factors that prevent women from recovering or seeking care during pregnancy and childbirth are poverty, lack of information, inadequate and poor quality services and cultural beliefs and practices” (WHO, 2020), allowed me to realize why the mortality and pregnancy complications were high in patients from Kenville. Professionally and academically I have learned that there is no such thing as no patients, this week I was able to understand the concept of “making the most of what I have” no clients were referred to us but we went all out to the community and clinics to find patients. This has taught me a life-long skill of screening and also learning how to assess and treat patients as you see them as there is no time.

As the Occupational Therapy students we took it upon us to ensure that the mothers of Kenville were educated about maternal and child health by providing promotive education with posters. It was an interesting experience as most mothers did not clearly understand the link between maternal and child health, being able to educate them was quite rewarding. Some of our resources used to educate the parents was taken from Gina’s paediatric notes, applying them was quite challenging especially with the screening as we haven’t been told how to practically manage a paediatric client. This block has been experimental and it has required quite a lot of self-learning with lots of YouTube videos but one thing that makes me happy is that each day my experience and knowledge is accumulating, I am forever grateful for this experience.

WORD COUNT: 1179

References

Beeber, L. S., Perreira, K. M., & Schwartz, T. (2008). Supporting the mental health of mothers raising children in poverty: how do we target them for intervention studies. NIH Public Access, 86-100.

Herring, S. J., & Oken, E. (2010). Weight gain during pregnancy: importance for maternal and child health.

Joyce, A. (2019, May 09). The Washington Post. Retrieved from Defining Motherhood: https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/style/wp/2019/feature/the-prtector-the-multitasker-the-holder-of-rocks-10-moms-define-motherhood/

ODPHP, O. o. (2020, June 08). HealthyPeope.Gov. Retrieved from Maternal, Infant, and child Health: https://www.healthypeple.gov/2020/topics-objectives/topi/maternal-infant-and-child-health

WHO, W. H. (2020). Maternal Health. Retrieved from WHO: https://www.who.int/health-topics/maternal-health#tab=tab_1

Zerbo, A., Delgado, R. C., & Gonzalez, P. A. (2020). Vulnerability and everyday health risks of urban informal settlements in sub-saharan Africa. Global health journal.

Zere, E., Kirigia, J. M., Duale, S., & Akazili, J. (2012). Inequalities in maternal and child health outcomes and interventions in Ghana. BMC public health .

Resources and links

https://youtu.be/ldk_WE74gyY

https://www.healthpovertyaction.org/how-poverty-is-created/women-girls/maternal-child-health/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2528810/

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