The Key of Life

A Woman's Problem

Early one morning during the springtime of her thirteenth year, Saffron Summers was awoken from a fitful sleep by an acute and intense pain in her lower abdomen, and the distantly familiar sensation of having wet the bed. Confused, Saffron peeled back the covers.

Underneath, everything was red.

Through the pain and the nausea, Saffron managed somehow to strip her bedding. She took it with her to the bathroom and dumped it, along with her pyjamas, into a bathtub full of cold water as she cleaned herself and changed into new clothes.

She opened the bathroom door to find herself face-to-face with her father, who took one look at blood-tinted bath water and frowned, the soft glow surrounding his body turning a shade of yellow.

"Let me call your mother," he said, with a single stroke of Saffron's blonde hair. "This is more her sort of problem. No, not a problem, but... She will know what to do. Leave the laundry to me."

Saffron smiled widely and nodded, before going to feed the rabbits; a task that took her much longer than it usually would. She had just finished when she heard the unmistakable sound of her mother yodelling through the letterbox.

Anthea Oregano, previously Anthea Summers, floated through the open front door, completely ignoring her ex-husband as she walked towards her daughter with open arms.

"Saffy, my petal," she said, enveloping Saffron into a tight embrace. "What a special, special day for you."

It didn't feel all that special to Saffron. Her mother released her from the hug and raised her hands to either side of her face, holding her at arm's length.

"You know what this means, don't you, my love?" she asked sincerely, the rosy glow around her deepening in colour. "You are a woman now."

"Thanks for coming over, Anthea," said Saffron's father, standing in the corner of the room. "I just didn't know what I was supposed to do or get her, other than paracetamol."

"Paracetamol? Why paracetamol?"

"Because it's supposed to hurt, isn't it?"

"Femininity is pain, Steven," Anthea told him. "Analgesics have been created by the pharmaceutical industry to numb the sensation that connects us with our inner goddess."

"Have they?"

"Yes, Steve. Everyone knows that. Now, Saffron, darling, I have a lovely ginger tea here with fennel and Angelica root. Drink that, and you'll feel divine in no time at all."

Saffron and her father followed Anthea through to the kitchen, where she poured out a cup of straw coloured liquid and handed it to Saffron.

"Thank you," said Saffron, taking the cup and drinking the tea, which tasted earthy, which was good.

"You're welcome, my flower. Now, I have some herbs and crystals that will help realign your chakras so that they can centre around your womb. That will help to awaken your feminine mystique."

"I'm sorry," Steve interjected from behind the two women - yes, Saffron was a woman now - his aura darkening from the yellow of before to a golden orange, "but maybe we should concentrate on making sure she has... well..."

"Well?"

"You know..."

"No, Steve," Saffron's mother tilted her head. "I don't know."

"Something along the lines of..." Steven sighed loudly. "Ladies'... hygiene... objects."

"Sanitary towels?" Anthea said, with a shudder. "Don't be ridiculous. She doesn't need them."