Northern Downpour

The Open Gates (X.II)

“Shall we say grace?”

“Not without me!” Micael’s mother shouted from afar, and quickly rushed into the table while carrying one dish of scones, and accidentally, she slipped. It was fast. Very fast that no one ever had the chance to bat an eye and react. The scones suddenly turned into free birds flying across the whole length of the room. The plate did, too.

Luckily it was wooden, so it didn't shztter into the smithereens. A thud followed. A sonorous one followed by clusters of thuds ensued by the scones getting tired of flying; gliding, perhaps.

That was unprecedent, unanticipated. Luckily there were scones still lying above the plate above a small wooden table in the kitchen. Everyone sighed.

And all they had seen was that Micael's mother was lying asprawl. Micael quickly grabbed his mother and helped him fetch herself up, and she did.

Though with quite regret, she simply said: “What a nice slip to start dinner, does it?” as if it was not really embarrassing at all, and Micael told him so. “Not really, mother. Have a seat,” and all of them was seated. “Do you mind if you say grace, Harry?” said his wife, and Mr. Harry immediately agreed. “Let us all feel his presence.”

They all gathered unto peace, held each other’s hands, closed their eyes and started praying personally. It was quiet, and yet Micael had to make himself comfortable. He thought of what others might be praying of. The meal? The sail? He did not really know, but he continued on praying. Whilst doing so, Micael came across unto a wandering palaver:

Jack.
Spring-heeled Jack.

What does he want? It was literally years when we departed from detention (they call it the OPEN GATES because it's
the place between life and existence).
It was harsh because one would need to at least give himself a mere sacrifice just for another day of living. It was grey, dark, and very inhospitable inside. Last thing I knew was that it was something gruesome. No one would ever want to go there. There was no light. No. There was light, but only little. It had never come from the sun but from an incandescent bulb. It was orange or yellow, warm and something that would scare the hell out of my ass. As long as I could remember, since I was just thirteen, it was made out of bricks and stones and steel rods. It was dingy, VERY dingy. The only thing that would attract any other outsiders was the information desk, where everyone had this facework kind of thing, and where everyone was doing their very best to hide something not worth revealing. My ticket onto getting inside? I would rather tell-not. It was horrible. No one would ever forget what I did. It was much worse than the worst, I must say. All I can tell is that there were cries, and parents. And after the deafening cries, there were none. Nothing followed and nothing would ever will. But the voice: “Let there be light.”

It was something that I will never forget. Like the old tale had given me: “Haunted is not simply just haunted. Being haunted is weirdly being given attention,” and the whatsits are something for later.

Mr. Harry finally said the conclusion of his grace, of which everyone did followed but took ya while before Micael had given his Amen. Everyone was staring at them, then after another while, his mother had spoken: “Micael, is everything all right?” she asked. “Yes. Mother. Amen,” Micael replied, smiled after giving his Amen. Unaware was he when he was checked by Amy. “Are you really alright? It seems like you are shocked of something,” she said. “I am, verily. Maybe ‘twas all ensued by hunger. So, what do you want? I will hand it to you.” Micael quickly grabbed the lamb from afar, where Amy wasn’t really able to reach, or did she? Micael had poured some of the sauce on Amy’s plate, and got her a part of the lamb. By the looks, the lamb was tender, delicious, and something that was given enough time and effort to be cooked well. It was something very extraordinary, both for Micael and Amy. Micael also got Amy some asparagus, of which one of his favorites. “You should try this one, Amy. This one is my favorite especially when mother cooks it. It is delicious, I assure you.”