Cupid's Consequence

Chapter Five: Books

The old woman's eyes crinkled at the edges and spread out like decorative tree branches across her cracked skin. She looked positively glowing. It wasn't exactly what I'd expected. After all, we'd practically broken into her home.

"Tris. I'm so glad to see you." The voice escaped as an exasperated whisper from the roughened pair of lips. She shuffled toward him. "Two 'undred years it's been. What's been keepin' you?"

Tris really had gotten us into trouble this time. I thought I had pretty bad family problems, but Tris' obviously had some serious communication issues. Maybe the greek gods aren't as advanced in technology as I'd first thought. I mean, how do you go two hundred years without speaking to your relative?

How do you even manage to survive for that long on planet Earth, anyway? Either the old woman had been cowering in her secret forest hideout or she had somehow defied the laws of life. I could go out of my house for a stroll and come back with a black eye and half a head of hair, yet she'd lived in a creepy mess of woodland for a century or two and only had a few wrinkles to speak of.

If only I could age that slowly.

Tris coughed awkwardly like he had a hairball of words clumped in his throat. "Gusion, we need your help."

The woman sat silently for a minute as if she was debating the outcome of her response. She brushed her fingers along the velvety material of the sofa to reach Tris' hand. He tensed at her touch before relaxing for a few moments, a puff of air escaping from his pursed lips. "Aunt Gusion, remember that? We're still family."

Tris' body shifted backwards and he pulled his hand away from hers hesitantly. "We need your help."

I shuffled in my seat. It almost felt like I was interrupting a strange mythology version of The Jeremy Kyle show; and let me tell you, it wasn't fun. The tension in the air was so thick that you could practically taste it on your tongue.

"I know." Gusion's eyes darkened before she grabbed a long, crooked stick that lay beside her. It resembled that of a witch's finger and scraped along the floor like chalk on a blackboard. She continued to walk towards the bookcase whilst it made a screeching sound, leaving a wiggled mark in the dusty wooden flooring. Maybe her hearing aid was switched off?

Old people these days, huh.

Her hunched figure proceeded to hobble towards the cabinet. She reminded me slightly of a penguin -- especially with the colorful feathers poking out of her purple headpiece. It lay gently on the gray strands of hair hanging limply from her head, therefore, making her look more exotic than a Hawaiian hula dancer. Grandma style.

Tris' gaze met mine and we held eye contact for a minute or so, like a silent cry for help. This crazy old woman was completely off her rocker. That's what two hundred years on Earth does to you, people.  

After a moment of tranquility, in which we heard only the small shuffle of books, Tris began to speak. His voice escaped as a squeak; a high-pitched tone that seemed forced beyond comprehension. "What do you mean, you know?"

The question lingered in the air for a while before Gusion sighed. Whether it was a sigh of frustration or not, we'll never know. One thing we did realize, however, was the fact that she was holding a book much bigger than Tris' previous selection in her frail arms. At least, they looked that way. Who knows? She could've been hiding chiseled muscles beneath that flowing dress of hers. After all, Gusion seemed to have surprises waiting around every corner. 

"Here." She waddled back over in the same way she had before. She gripped the book tightly in her pale hands. "Here're ya answers." 

The book was placed on Tris' lap. Beginning to lift it, the veins stood out like a spiral of roads covering his arms. He couldn't. He tried again, and again, and again. Still no success. With manic transforming into beads of sweat rolling from his forehead, he gave up. Arms flopping by his sides, Tris' eyebrows stitched together thickly. The old woman watched her nephew in amusement. I saw a twinkle of satisfaction in her eyes -- though it passed just as quickly as it was there.