Chapter 6

RUBIN

“Get a move now, George!”

“But Lilia, she is still sleeping. I do not–”

“What? Tell me more of yer lame reasons, aye? We know we

cannot delay. She have a hard time alrigh’, but she has to prepare. Like righ’

now!” I could hear a set of feet shuffling across the floor and I hastily turn

my back against the door, biting my lip as I hear it open.

"Rubin, I know yer awake. Yeh don't sleep with yer

mouth closed." Oh, okay then. I opened my mouth, and continue to pretend

to be asleep. "Francesca Rubin--"

"Okay, okay. I'm up, already! Don't get your knickers

twisted up your bottoms, Aunt Lilia."

Well, that earned me a pillow zooming on my direction and

hitting me on the head. I collapsed on the bed dramatically, snickering.

“A-a-ouch!” I put both of my hands on my forehead, pretending to be hurt. Aunt

Lilia shakes her head at me before throwing another pillow.

Uncle George sat down on my bed and gave me a smile, “I’ve

heard what happen, I can’t believe you finish as first. Excellent!” I gave him

a shy smile and watch as Aunt Lilia put her arms around me and sniffed, “I’m

gonna miss yeh so much! I know I ‘ave tried ter stop yeh from being a Cupid bu’

understand, I don’t wan’ yeh ter go.”

I stared at their sad faces, feeling miserable all of a

sudden for I have to leave.

They really act like my parents but still, they aren't.

These distracting thoughts killed the mood. I stand up, settling near the

window, I can hear Aunt Lilia and Uncle George whispering to each other, making

me sigh, "We're not in the library, you know."

Uncle George look around, awkwardly twisting the ends of his

dress shirt. Aunt Lilia's furrowed brows etched deeper on her face as she made

a move towards me, taking me into her arms. "I know yeh are sad tha’ yer

parents are not here bu’ we cannot do anything ‘bout it. We 're ‘ere to support

yeh always, don’ forget that." She kiss my forehead and ran her hands on

my ginger locks.

"I know that, Aunt Lilia. I know you loved me like I am

your own but," I stared off the window, trying to stop my tears, "I

just miss them. I wish my parents are alive and here–"

Uncle George cleared his throat, momentarily distracting me.

I look at him but he chose to avoid my

gaze, acting a bit dodgy. I remembered our conversation from yesterday and

pointed it out, "Uncle, aren't you going to tell me about the bet? You

promise me.” Uncle George looks at me and reluctantly he walks towards us.

“Alright…”

"I know that my father look like you only with a

different eye color." I ran my hands on my Uncle's cheek and smiled at

him. “So, about the bet?” I ask my Uncle

George but he is not looking at me, he is staring at my Aunt Lilia as if they

are conversing silently. "Uncle, Auntie, Is there something you want to

say?"

"No, dearie," Aunt Lilia replied.

"Yes, dearie," Uncle George mused.

Their replies caught me off guard as I look at the both of

them, a bit suspicious of the way Aunt Lilia let go of me and sat on the bed

while Uncle George started chewing his bottom lip.

"Ruby--"

"George, no. We vowed ter protect her!"

"Protect me? From what?"

They both stared at me, Aunt Lilia, now standing up,

"George--"

"Lilia, I can't. Sixteen years is enough!" I could

feel my Uncle's arms loosening, making me take a step back, staring at him.

"What are you saying Uncle? What sixteen years? What

protection are you talking about?" He looks down at me, powder blue eyes

gleaming with unshed tears.

"We vowed to protect you from the knowledge of your

past, Rubin, we swore to keep it from you."

"What do you mean? What past? " I turn to my Aunt

Lilia before looking back at my Uncle. "You told me that you raised me

because Mom and Dad died during the assault. You treat me like I was your own

because you have no children. We spend holidays together, laugh and dance…Isn't

all of that true?"

"It is true. But can you remember your 3rd or 4th or 5th birthday? Do you have bizarre dreams about

playgrounds that do not look like the ones we have here in Eros?" Uncle

George throw question after question at my direction that the memories flashed

behind my eyes, blindingly yet still blurred. "How about those times when

you will wake up and scream 'mommy'? The little bunny bear you have, and the

reason why no other Erosian child have a toy like that or would even think to

name their toy, ‘Tookie’?" My Uncle's face is so red that I am afraid he

will collapse because of it. With a broken voice, he whispered, "Do you

ever wonder why you have these memories? Have it ever crossed your mind that

everything felt peculiar and different when you arrive because you are not born

here?"

I am speechless. I look at Aunt Lilia as she silently cried,

hugging my bunny bear closer to her arms as Uncle George panted, his face so

red with his outburst.

"Aunt Lilia, is this true?"

"Yer memory 'as been tampered with, Rubin. Yer real

name was Crimsyn, a beautiful name yet it’s the mark of the earth on yeh so

they change it, along with yer whole identity.” I whispered my name–Crimsyn. My

mother have chosen that name for me and now I am called Rubin because they wipe

away my memories–how insensitive! I frown, listening as my aunt continue, “Me

and yer Uncle agreed because we wanted ter have a child and yeh are our

opportunity. I do not want ter lie to yeh but in exchange of yer protection, we

agreed."

"And Grandma knows all this?"

Aunt Lilia nodded on my direction, hastily wiping a stray

tear on her face. "Then why did you all lie to me? Why did you just tell

me now?" I felt betrayed and lost that another part of myself has been

stolen and kept for so many years.

“We did not mean ter lie, Rubin. We just have ter do it!”

Aunt Lilia insisted, her face flushed. I shake my head.

Uncle George slowly pull me to the window with my Aunt Lilia

and him holding my hand, gently leading me on. He caress my cheek and

whispered, "Your dad was just like you, a cupid sent down to earth, when

he met your mom..." Uncle snatched a cloud from the window and conjure it

to form into a man with wings watching a woman cloud.

The cloud man looks so real that I have to think of him as

conjured. I sadly smiled at the cloud man as I listen to my Uncle George

continuing the story, "He was bold, intelligent and daring. Marcus wanted

to change some laws here in Eros including the most sacred one--"

"To give love and not receive it," I recited it

with my heart, having heard of it all the time and reminded of it's weight ever

since I could remember.

"That made Marcus so cunning. He stayed longer on earth

even after his mission, pretending to be human. With his wits, he had managed

to capture a few women, dragging them across town like lost puppies. He made

them obsess over his body and his face. He enjoyed the attention very much it

scared him, sometimes–for we are susceptible to temptations more than humans

do." Uncle George shook his head as we watch the cloud man flirt with the

other clouds which also took form into women. "But to his greatest

disappointment, there seems to be a woman unaffected by all this."

"Well, I assume that it is my Mum, right?"

"Of course. Under the name of Emily, this gentle human

didn't believe your father's stories of adventure and knew from the moment he

started chasing her around, that the man, your father, was in fact an ethereal

creature. "

The cloud man started chasing the woman cloud around my room until finally

he have caught her in his arms.

"In time, he had managed to break down her walls and

she had fallen for him after all he had done to win her. She was a tough one,

your mother. The longer they spend time together only deepen what your father

feel for her. They are so happy, he is so happy, that he forgot the fact that

he is still Cupid," I watch both of the clouds as they sat on the floor.

They were laughing, chasing each other around my room.

Uncle George’s eyes lingered at the clouds for a moment, his

hands weaving the air as to keep the man cloud and the woman, moving. He took a

deep breath before Uncle look at me smiling, "Then they had you, you mischievous little sod." My uncle

pinched my nose and I wave my hands on his direction, urging him to continue.

The clouds from awhile ago are now together with a little puff on the arms of

the woman cloud. Aunt Lilia pulled me to her arms and I frown as Uncle continue

his story, in a voice now filled with grief.

"Marcus, with great desperation, faked his death so he

could be with you and Emily. Mother found out about his plan, of his faked

death and his whereabouts with Cedric’s information. Cedric, rejoicing of what

our younger brother did, encourage our mother to hunt him down and kill you and

Emily," Uncle George’s face is stony and cold as I stared at him, waiting

for him to continue.

"I did not agree, of course. Killing Emily is horrible

but killing you, a child? It is unforgiveable–for we consider children as Holy.

Hearing my opinion, Mother agreed that

you will be accepted back to Eros like a normal child and be told of a

different past. That is how you are with us now, living and well." Uncle

George enveloped Aunt Lilia and me on his arms, his light gold wings sprouting

from his back forming some kind of a shield.

Frowning, I wriggled out of his embrace and whispered,

"But, my father...and my mother?" Uncle George withdraw his arms and

Aunt Lilia look down at me with pity, "Are they still alive?"

There is silence and I hang on to that. I do not want to

hear the words as my Uncle look down and shook his head.

I sniffed, pushing Aunt Lilia's hands away from me as she

tried to hug me, "What is the use of telling me all this if the ending is

the same? They're dead. No difference! Nothing at all." I bit my lip to

stop myself from crying out loud. This felt a hundred times worse than before,

knowing about my mother and father's forbidden love and how it had killed him

in the end.

"There is a difference for now, you know the

truth." Uncle George took my face on his large hands and wipe my tears.

" You are going down to earth, to the place of temptations, hatred and

grief–I consider it going in a field that involves roses and thorns. It is a

depiction of heaven and hell clashing and forming into one that we fear that

you might just end up like your father..." My hands tighten on my Uncle's

hand, trying to remove them but they didn't move an inch away from my

face. I want to move farther away from

them, and pretend that they are not in the same room with me. I wanted to be

alone and mourn my parents I have no memories of.

Sadly, that’s not the case.