(This story so far resides here: https://ofourmaker.com/2023/10/17/adolphus-search-and-rescue )

Raleigh cleared his throat.

“Quite a sudden question, wouldn’t you say?”

Gibbsen was reminded again how dull were some humans’ senses – it was clear to him that the question was in no way sudden. Raleigh went on,

“After all she’s only just begun a new life; hasn’t gone far from the station.” He then addressed Number One directly: “Would you not like to think the question over, and maybe have a chance for a wider experience, meet more people, perhaps – no offence to anyone present – perhaps a few folks less withered and colourless?”

Number One laughed merrily at this.

“What you say is funny, Raleigh!” Then her face abruptly became somber. “I saw many humans.”

She looked across to where Gareth stood, quiet and still as a haunting, antique painting of some allegorical scene. There was fear in her eyes, quickly being swallowed up by longing, and doubly drowned in a hopeful assurance.

“He saved me,” she said, and stood up.

“He gave me learning.” She took a step.

“He gave me clothes.” Another step. She always wore the dark print dress he had bought her, though faintly darker patches remained of her brother’s blood.

“He gave me comfort.” In time with each phrase, she took an intent, solemn step in her bare feet.

“I saw many humans, I saw them the times they died, the times they had braveness, and the times they were weak; I saw what they love, and they did not love, what they love more, and they love most, and what they hate. These times I saw humans. The humans who others thought, thought they were good, and they were not good; thought they were not good, and they were good. The time I was weak, he came into the dark, he dug me out. He got free, the time my father had him: cut the claw of death. He is ugly, but he is strong, and he is clean. He is terrifying: that is what are angels.”

After twenty-nine steps, she stood close enough to look up into his hood. She put her hand – still with her spit on it – in his.

“Make me your own, sir!”

He clasped her hand gently, and drew her the last step, quite close to him.

“Your name, is ‘Enid’.”

There was a quiver in her, which had nothing to do with trying to stand straight.

“I am named, this time… I am Enid.”

She closed her eyes, pressed her tumbled, touselled head to the folds of his bosom, and sobbed vigorously. Her hand that he held he raised to his shoulder, and his other arm he put tenderly around her back.

To be continued.

#DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM #AdolphusSearchAndRescue 2023/11/22