Magic From the Sky Pt. 2

There was a certain music that accompanied the magic when it rained. No one else heard it. Rather, neither Valentina nor Jax heard it. Now that the initial panic that realization brought had faded, Ansel could once again appreciate the delicate sound. He closed his eyes and plucked out a complementary melody on his small calliope. He felt something building, in his chest or in the air he couldn't be sure, but as he reached for it a clanging bang against the bunker’s entrance made him jump.

"Let me in!" came a frantic voice followed by another loud bang, slamming against the door.

Ansel flinched as the owner of the voice slammed into the door once more. "N-No!" He yelled.

"Please!" the voice begged. "The world is ending out here!" Another bang added to the desperation. "It's doom on earth!" 

"I know." Ansel stood slowly. Valentina would be livid if she found out he was even talking to a stranger in times like these, but that desperation was so familiar... Ansel edged closer to the door. "That's why I can't let you in." A pause, then, "It isn't safe. You might not be safe."

"How dare you sir?!" the voice cried. "I see you walk past nigh every day and you're the one that never greets me with a hello! Quite rude if one were to ask me." 

"Excuse me?" Ansel squeaked. Despite himself, he pulled the door open. His jaw dropped as the voice's owner turned out to be none other than his favorite of the metal artwork installations in the park, the turtle. As if coming to life and talking weren’t absurd enough, the turtle also walked on his hind legs.

While Ansel was busy gaping, the turtle slammed its way in and quickly pushed against the door to shut it. "You wouldn't believe how chaotic it is out there!" It had its body upright and pressed against the door as if its legs were holding it shut. "Pure insanity, I tell you!" 

"I've lost my mind," Ansel exhaled as he backed away. "This isn't real. It can't be real. No, no, not over there!" He abandoned his retreat to rush the turtle. “Not over there! Valentina will kill me if you go over there!” 

"Of course I'm real, sonny," the turtle said. It went down on all fours but otherwise ignored Ansel’s pleas. "Name's Sir William Fafafire the Third. You can call me Fafa or Sir Fafa if you don't feel we're close enough to lose the formalities." He shook out his legs one at a time as he walked and the magic dripping off his body went flying.

Everything the globs of magic landed on sprang to life. A copper tea kettle perched on a milk crate whistled about needing a good washing. A dish towel with faded pink flowers flipped onto its shorter end and set about strutting its stuff for the suddenly sentient and catty cup and plate beside it. A lacy bra hauled itself out of a box of Valentina’s things to throw itself dramatically onto her bed.

"It's finally happening," Ansel whimpered, retreating to his comfort corner where his desk, small calliope, chair, and a scattering of journals and pencils. "I've gone crazy." His sister would be so disappointed…

Thinking of his sister seemed to kick his mental breakdown into full gear. Valentina's rolling pin that she had left on the inn table sprang to life and began rolling on its own, singing, "Roll, roll, roll your dough, gently along the seam, merrily, merrily, merrily la la la la lee..." 

"Fafa, why are you here?" Ansel asked, his hands twitching as he fought the urge to cover his ears like a small child. 

"Pie! A pie! A berry pie!" The rolling pin continued, switching seamlessly between tunes.

"I told you!" Fafa sauntered around Valentina’s space. "I wanted in from out there. It is utter chaos. Do you want to be stuck out there?" He looked around as if determining what would be his spot. 

"I'm not allowed to go out when it's like this." The words sounded lame to Ansel. He winced at the reality of an adult being confined by their sister.

“Probably for the best,” Fafa said. He poked his snout under Valentina’s bed. “I could fit under here nicely. I’m a side sleeper anyway.”

“You cannot stay in my sister’s area!” Ansel insisted. He left his corner to place himself bodily between Fafa and Valentina’s nook. “Shoo!”

Fafa waffled his head back and forth, utterly unbothered by Ansel’s distress. “I am not a dog to be shooed away.” He still wandered away from the bed.

"Why come to me, anyway?” Ansel pressed. He flopped down on Valentina’s bed, exhausted by the magical absurdity of this mental episode.

"You're a sensitive." Fafa sniffed at him. "I always knew you had something special about you." He hopped up and down excitedly, his metal body making an odd clicking sound with every landing. "You're not like the others. Nope. Not one bit, sonny." 

“That’s never been framed as a good thing,” Ansel said. 

“Are you seriously feeling sorry for yourself right now?” A sassy voice asked.

Ansel looked down to see the lacy bra sitting upright with a strap unhooked and braced against between the cups as if it had a hand on its hip. Ansel couldn’t do anything except stare in muted horror.

“Do you have any idea what it feels like to be absolutely unappreciated?” The bra insisted.

“I am happy to say I don’t,” Ansel said faintly. 

A heavy duty metal flashlight hopped its way over and tapped Fafa. "Go away, you stupid fluorescent." 

The flashlight veered sharply towards the wall, contorting in ways that should be impossible. In the beam of its light shadow puppets expressed its displeasure. 

"I think you hurt its feelings," Ansel said softly while the bra continued to rant about the injustice of an undergarment’s life.

"I know you're concerned about the outside," Fafa said. He shook a back foot at the flashlight. He looked up at Ansel. "Ignore his chattering." 

The rolling pin chose this moment to launch into a rendition of "biscuits, biscuits, biscuits in a basket!"

“I've always been odd." Ansel reiterated quietly.

"You've always been special." Fafa corrected.

Ansel chewed on that. "This… magical sensitivity thing isn't new?"

“Nope!” Fafa made his way toward the door with the flashlight hopping along after him. "That's why we're going to do something to stop this insanity."

"Wait, what? No." Ansel shook his head hard. 

"I don't want to go out there either. But we can go stop the magic," Fafa said. "Wouldn't that be great?" 

"Um, Fafi, won't you... You know..." Ansel gestured falling over. "If we stop the magic?"

Fafa looked up at him. "Don't be daft. This isn't about me. We're inanimate objects." He scurried back over to him. "Do you want to go or not?" 

"...Okay," Ansel said. "Okay. Let's do this before I think better of it."