Page 6 of A Siren Song for Christmas
For Malachi, the days passed, and so did the years, bleeding into one another with a monotony and sameness. The passage of time made little difference for him.
Finally, he turned towards the tank that contained the yellow sorrow, a plant native to small ponds to the east of the city. Whilst the roots grew in the water and bedded down into the soil beneath, thick green leaves sat on the top of the clear liquid.
A large stem grew from the leaves. Small black spheres grew along the knobby green stem. At the top of the stem, a single large yellow flower, which gave the plant its name, drooped. The flower petals could be dried and crushed and made into a salve to treat burns. The roots could be consumed to deal with indigestion.
But that was not why Malachi paused in front of the plant.
“Hello, my darling. It’s closing time.” He held out his hand. “Ready to go upstairs?”
A small green frog released her grip from the stem and hopped onto his palm. She had been completely camouflaged with her green skin and her beady black eyes against the stem.
Malachi smiled. “What am I saying? You always know when it is closing time, and you are always ready and waiting for me.”
Throughout the day, the small frog moved throughout the store, hiding amongst the different plants. Malachi rarely spotted her. But at closing time, she always came to the yellow sorrow and waited for him.
“You are a very clever little pond frog, Kelby.”
Kelby stared up at him, as if listening.
Which was a nice thought. She was the only creature, other than his customers and plants, that Malachi had to speak to.
There’d been a time in his life when he’d had many with whom he could share his thoughts and feelings. But that time had ended even before he left the ocean.
Malachi gazed around the room, at the unending stillness and quiet that descended on the emporium.
How is this my life?
It was so different from what he’d once hoped it would be. It was so different from the glorious joy it had been for two short years.
A knot formed in his throat.
This is my life now. It will creep on like this, empty and silent, year after year, until I die.
Kelby croaked.
Malachi looked down and gave a shaky smile. “You’re right, my dear. That’s enough melancholy thoughts for one day.”
Kelby croaked again. Malachi walked to the back of the room and up the stairs. The wood creaked beneath his feet as he ascended. He pushed open the door to the small room where he resided.
It was not much. A bed, a stand and wash basin, a chest where he kept his clothes, and shelves that held practically nothing except for Kelby’s terrarium.
There was also a small table and two chairs that faced a little fireplace. Only one of the chairs was ever in use. He never had any guests.
Malachi walked to the terrarium and lowered his hand. “There you are, my sweet.” She hopped off and sat on the log surrounded by a variety of plants. Malachi sat in one of the chairs.
In a moment, he’d light the fire. More for Kelby’s comfort than his own. She liked a warm room. Malachi should also feed himself.
He turned and looked to the window. The wind battered against the glass. White snow flickered past. The sun had set long ago. But of course, at this time of year, darkness always came so early. And stayed so late.
But for Malachi, darkness had descended on his life a long time ago.
No matter the season, his world was always filled with long shadows. A bleakness had sapped all colour and joy. An endless winter had settled inside him, stealing heat and warmth from the air.
Malachi turned and stared into the empty grate. He thought of the young Mr Berry. He wondered what the witch would be up to tonight. He didn’t know much about the young man, except that he had several siblings and worked in a bakery.
But a young man so lovely, even though he was a little awkward, must have friends. He must have companions. He must have someone to spend the winter nights with.
At least, Malachi hoped he did. He really didn’t like to imagine that the human might be as miserable and alone as himself.