Prison for Tea

Lionel wasn’t the spontaneous type; he was a man who stuck to a schedule, his unruly hair brushed every morning by five a.m. While many struggle under the weight of a busy to-do list, this man excelled. His mantra was, “if you’re not ten minutes early, you’re late”. Admired and respected by most, Lionel was top of his class and had the prospects of a productive and successful future. And for the first time in nearly ten years, Lionel found himself void of things to do. 

According to his schedule, he had three hours of free time before soccer practice that evening. His mother was expected to be home thirty minutes before then—enough time to eat dinner and drive him to the field. For a man in the fifth grade, he made a scrumptious mac and cheese finished with crisp bacon. Lionel made dinner, finished the week’s homework in record time, and all of his friends had made plans with their own family for the extended holiday. Not knowing what to do, he found himself swinging on the swingset in the backyard.

“Discovering a cure for cancer?” Abbey asked, her small blonde head popping up over the dividing fence. Lionel grunted.

“No.”

“Figuring out the last digits of pi?”

“No.”

“Creating the next Mona Lisa?”

“No.”

“Perfect,” Abbey confirmed, awkwardly climbing over the fence. “That means you’re not busy, and that means that you can play with me.” Lionel watched her, dumbfounded, as she made her way across the yard and sat herself in the swing beside him. Her short curly hair encircled her round, youthful face. Abbey was two years younger, and for as long as they have been neighbors, she had been determined to come and play. Lionel had always managed to create excuses each time she popped her face over the fence, but this time he drew a blank. He sighed.

“What do you want to play?” Lionel inquired, his feet dragging across the ground to slow the swing. Without a second’s thought she answered,

“Tea Party.”

“You want to play what?” They stared at each other, Abbey not backing down. Shoving his glasses farther up his nose with a glare, Lionel gave in. Abbey wanted to begin immediately, marching herself right into his house like she owned it. He followed, grumbling.

Inside, Lionel seated himself at the kitchen counter. At incredible speeds Abbey conducted herself around the kitchen, concocting a kettle of tea in no time. When the napkins were neatly folded and the sugar and milk were set around the dining table, Abbey ran back outside. Raising an eyebrow, Lionel shrugged, getting off of his stool. Beginning to tidy up the table, he heard the back door open once more. When he heard Abbey’s voice, saying that she had forgotten the teacups, he groaned silently. The kettle on the stove began to whistle, so he took it off and gently set it on the table.

When the table was all set, including a set of wild dandelions in his mother’s favorite vase, Abbey declared it “perfect”. Taking his seat across from her, he began to add a spoonful of sugar and milk to the tea. While he was doing so, he noticed the Abbey did nothing, instead she stared at him intensely. When he brought the tea cup to his lips, her eyes grew wide, as if waiting for him to explode.

"What?" He demanded. Abbey seemed to shake out of whatever trance she was in, but even when she began to prepare her own set of tea, she never took her eyes off of his teacup. Shrugging it off as ‘Abbey being Abbey’ Lionel continued to sip his tea, grimacing at the bitter flavor. Adding an abnormal amount of sugar to the tea, it took all his knowledge of table manners to swallow at least two-thirds of the tiny teacup.

“You have to drink the whole thing. Otherwise the tea party is a waste.” Abbey told him, although Lionel noticed that she had barely even sipped at hers.

“But you haven’t even—” he began, but before he even finished, Abbey tipped her teacup back and gulped down the whole thing. She barely winced, but it was still clear that she wasn’t partial to the tea either. Following her lead, Lionel quickly swallowed the rest of his. Putting his teacup down, his stomach began to rumble uncomfortably. Shifting in his seat, he felt as if he had swallowed a giant air bubble. Across the table from him Abbey burped, her face slightly pale.

“What was in that tea?” Lionel asked, beginning to sweat. Abbey ignored him and began to tidy up the tea set, although it was clear she was in pain as well.

Lionel wanted to go throw up, but when he got up Abbey stopped him.

“Don’t throw up—it will ruin the effects. Let's go outside.”

“Effects? What effects?” Abbey rolled her eyes, took his hand, and pulled him out the back door. The sun was so intense; the light half blinded him, making him want to curl up on the ground. When he attempted to, Abbey hauled him back up and on to his feet. She was surprisingly strong for such a tiny human. Lionel’s vision started to swirl, blur, and fade. Lionel wanted to use the words that he swore to his mother that he would never use again, but when he tried to open his mouth he began to taste the tea again. Grumbling, Abbey dragged him across the yard. His legs gave out on him and he fell to the ground, so she instead grabbed him by his foot and continued.

Clawing at the ground, Lionel noticed something. The grass wasn’t green—it was blue, and rippled like the sea on a windy day. The sky was as dark as night, and the stars seemed to double in magnitude and population. The sun was no more, and the moon wasn’t to be found. The fence disappeared, dissolving into the ground like it was made of sand. When, still being dragged by Abbey, he turned to look at his small, one story home, he whimpered. It was gone, replaced by a glimmering lake.

“What did you do?” Lionel yelled, the tears running down his face surprising him. Clearly exasperated, Abbey let go of his foot and sat on a chair that appeared out of thin air. She sat there like an annoyed parent, waiting for him to recover his senses. Staggering to his feet and wiping the snot from his nose, Lionel looked out around the horrifyingly beautiful landscaping around him.

It appeared that he was in a small prairie, the borders surrounded by trees and hills. To the south sat the lake—though he wasn’t really sure if it was south. Past the lake, on a hill sat a picturesque village, complete with a storybook-castle behind it. Trying to pull himself together, Lionel dusted the mud from his jeans. Turning back to Abbey, he took a deep breath.

“Finished?” She asked. He nodded, not trusting himself to not throw up yet. “Marvelous. Then I suggest we be on our way—I promised my mother I would be home for dinner.”

Leading the way, Abbey led a flabbergasted Lionel past the lake and towards the village. Owls cried out from the trees, wolves howling in the distance. Lionel had moved past panic, and was filled with awe at the scenery around him. 

“What is this place?” Abbey shrugged. “Aren’t you going to tell me anything?” Lionel begged, trying to clear the whine from his voice. 

“Why do you need to know?” Stammering, he couldn’t come up with an answer. Rolling her eyes, Abbey plucked a purple berry from a bush nearby, popping it into her mouth. She offered on to Lionel, but he just stared at her incredulously. “What?”

“What if it is poisonous? My mother told me never to eat wild berries—”

“Why would I offer it to you if it was poisonous? And more importantly, why would I have eaten one?”

“I don’t know! You are clearly crazy, and probably couldn’t care less if we just died in the middle of who-knows-where!” Lionel shouted. She stared at him as he huffed angrily, making him feel like a child being scolded angrily by his mother.

“I may be crazy, but I am not trying to get us killed. I was crazy to ever bring you here, crazy to ever believe you would be rational and calm about this.” Abbey paused, her face going slightly red from built up anger. “I have waited three years to bring you here, because I thought we would be friends. But since you clearly can’t handle it, we might as well go back. Besides, I am going to get in so much trouble for bringing you here, that I would probably never be allowed to go back to home anyway.” Pushing past Lionel, she stormed back the way they had come. He followed, his mind racing. Surely he could handle whatever this place had to throw at him—after all, he was a straight-A student.

Racing ahead of her, he blocked her from going any further. He was confused when he saw she was smiling.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I knew it—you’re curious,” she said with a smirk. Lionel scowled, but she waved it off. Taking his hand in her own tiny one, she led him back toward the village.

When they had reached it, Abbey led Lionel around to one of the alleyways between the stone homes. Peering cautiously around the corner, she deemed the streets safe for them to enter. But before they did, Abbey looked Lionel over skeptically.

"You can't be seen like this," she declared, holding up a sleeve of his dirty sweatshirt.

"Well, I would have changed had I known that I would be—"

"Hold your horses, no need to be salty. I was just saying that we don't dress the same way that you do." Eyeing him once more, Abbey gave him a new set of clothes.

"Where did you get—"

"Hurry up and change behind the corner, we don't have very long to get back." Obeying, Lionel changed into the new set of clothes, hiding his old ones in a tree nearby. The new clothes were…stiff. Unlike everything else in this place, the clothes weren’t extraordinary. He now wore khaki pants, and a crisp white dress shirt. He had expected…well, he didn’t know what he had expected. Certainly not something his mother made him wear to church.

 Returning to Abbey, he noticed that she, too, had changed. She now wore a simple blue dress, with a creamy scarf resting loosely around her head and shoulders. She was quite pretty.

“You ready?” asked, though it was clear that she would be ready to leave no matter his answer. Nodding, he followed her out into the street. Street lamps lined the streets, their flames dancing in their cages. When they arrived at the place Abbey announced as her home, Lionel wiped the sweat from his brow. 

Walking into the warmly lit home, the smell of dinner awakened his senses. The sound of their entry alerting her family of their presence, they were soon greeted by the rest of her family members. She was only slightly scolded for being late, and was then immediately rushed to the dining table in the center of the home. Feeling slightly abandoned, Lionel remembered his manners and began to take his shoes off at the doorway. When he noticed her family members staring at him, he immediately regretted his decision. His face became hot, realizing that everybody kept their shoes on.

“Who are you?” A woman, assumed to be Abbey’s mother, interrogated.

“I, well, I’m—”

“He’s a friend, Mima. From school,” Abbey interrupted, her eyes wide with prompting.

“Yes—school. Where we learn. About planets. And, numbers,” he stammered, Abbey looking like she was going to strangle him. Her family remained suspicious, but it was clear that they were more concerned about the dinner on the table. Awkwardly sitting in the seat beside Abbey, he offered a polite thanks to her mother when he was dished a plate. After miming the words to an unfamiliar prayer, he began to cut off small pieces of the chicken on the plate.

Abbey chatted idly with her siblings, all easily five to twenty years older than she. She glanced at him occasionally, but otherwise ignored him.

Once dinner was over, and cleanup had begun, Abbey got permission from her mother to show him around their property. Glad to leave the busy environment, he found himself, once again, following Abbey outside.

Her family owned a quaint farm, with horses grazing in a pasture. Lionel would have been content to do just as Abbey had told her parents they would do, but she had other plans. Instead of leading them towards the horses, she brought him past the pasture, over the hills, and out of view of the house.

“Will you tell me where we are going?”

“We are going to a friend’s.”

“Your friend?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He got no answer. Figures.

Lionel’s legs began to cramp as they continued through the hills, but just when he was about to surrender his pride and ask to stop, they reached another street. This street was empty of houses, the only sign of life a puff of smoke rising from a small structure a mile away. The house looked too small to be inhabited. When they reached it, they were immediately greeted by a scraggly old woman. She raced out of the house, hobbling on her cane.

“Abbigail. What have you done?” She accused, shoving them inside. Lionel cautiously looked around the house as the door was locked behind them. It was the size of a small bedroom, everything squished to one side of the room. Lionel was no interior decorator, but he thought that with a garage sale and a rearrangement of furniture would have been an improvement.

The woman hurriedly marched around the crowded room concocting a batch of tea. Oh no.

“Abbigail, you know the law. Why would you endanger yourself in this way? What about the life of this poor little boy?”

“I’m not a little—”

“I’m sorry, but please don't send him back. He can learn to fit in here, and the Kind needs to see that he isn't a threat.” Abbey pleaded, interrupting Lionel. “Please, Iza. We all know the law is unjust, and—”

“No, Abigail. You will not tear this boy from his family, forcing him to a life of danger here. He isn’t ready, and you are not ready. You will not ruin this boy’s life, just because you feel lonely—”

“I am not lonely!” Abbey interrupted once more. She seemed to be borderline tears, but Lionel had had enough. He was tired of being dragged around, literally and figuratively, and not knowing what was going on.

“Stop! Just stop!” He shouted over the arguing. They both stared at him, wide-eyed. “Don’t I get a say in this? I have no idea where I am or how I got here.” He looked at Abbey. “I thought that you were only my neighbor, not some magical—” Once again, Lionel was interrupted. But this time, it wasn’t Abbey or Iza. A loud knock from the door vibrated through the whole house, but they never even got the chance to open it before it was knocked down. Officers stood at the door, deadly swords pointed at Lionel.

“Abbey Wayward. You are under arrest for harboring an Earthen. You are to be detained until your trial.” The officer turned to Lionel. “You are sentenced to life imprisonment. It would be best to obey.” Lionel didn’t know what to do. Iza looked between the soldiers and Lionel, and shoved the tea she was making into his hands. 

“Drink the tea. Now,” She said, a determined look in her eyes. An officer pointed a sword towards her. “I am only giving him something to quench his thirst. Now leave—you have who you want,” Iza demanded, ordering them all out of her house in the same manner they were shoved in. Lionel made the quick-second decision and gulped the entire glass of tea. It tasted nothing like the bitter substance Abbey had given him, but was a sickening sweet. Obeying the officers, he was led out of the house. Abbey glared at the officers, but did the same.

The trek towards the palace was miserable; Lionel’s feet ached, and the anxiety clutched him whenever he looked at the swords at their sides. When they arrived at the palace, he fought the sheer awe that began to sweep over him. The palace was easily the size of an entire city, with courtyards and streets built inside of its impenetrable walls. Once they reached the elaborate prison, he was chained inside one of the cells. Abbey was in the cell across from him, though instead of chains she only had a simple metal chain around her wrist, indicating her status as a prisoner. 

When they were left alone, with no guards outside of their cells, Lionel began to feel trapped. The walls seemed to close in on him, sucking the life out of him.

“Stay calm, Lionel. The cell amplifies emotions, driving us to madness. You have no reason to worry—Iza gave you the tea to send you home. You’ll be leaving any moment now.” Abbey told him. He could hear the utter hopelessness in her voice. Tears streaked across her face. Lionel couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, but he knew she was right. He began to feel dizzy once more, his stomach in a whirlwind.

“I’m sorry, Abbey. I’ll be back.” She only nodded, clearly not believing him. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself back at his dining table, in his house.

He needed to go back.