Water Bubbles

Arletta was made for the rain. Not for her the sunny bright cheerful days that her peers so enjoyed. Rain made her feel cozy and comforted even when she had to be out in it. For her, everything felt closer, within reach. She had discovered, when she was very young that if she sat quietly and closed her eyes, she could actually feel the water as it made its way from heaven to earth. As she got older, she would reach out with her thoughts to the highest peak of the thunder cloud. She would choose one individual drop and track it, feeling the rush of the passing air, the grip of gravity as it fell from the sky like a shooting star. She would feel the impact when it landed though there was never any pain. She could feel as the droplet began to slide, down to whatever final resting place that had been provided for it. When it landed in water, she rejoiced, for she had long suspected that water droplets do not like to be alone. They had short little individual lives and were happiest when together, sharing their experience. It caused her great anxiety when she was small, until someone explained that the sun and heat evaporated these drops and sent them home, in a different form. This had been explained to her before she knew about death and so this made her happy, knowing that no matter what happens every droplet would never stay lonely forever.

               She had been a precocious child, telling anyone who would listen about the water and how playful and marvelous it was, until one day her mom sat her down and explained that no one else could feel the water the way she did. It was not normal and therefore needed to be hidden. If people knew that she had this ‘superpower’ as her mom put it, they would call her names, or worse.

               “I’ve seen it happen.” Her mother said sadly. “people don’t like what is different. It makes them uncomfortable. They will not hesitate to use that against you so tell no one. We will keep this a family secret” she put a finger to her lips to indicate quiet and gave her daughter a conspiratorial smile. Arletta had been too young then, to see the concern in her mother’s eyes.

               By the age of 9 Arletta had discovered that she could move the water droplets without touching them with her hands. She would stand in the back yard during rainstorms and practice moving the water, to the left and then to the right holding the drops suspended in the air for as long as she could. One day when she was 11, she managed to spend an entire hour out in the rain with getting wet in the least. She walked into the house grinning, dry as a bone and her mother looked pale.

               “Honey,” she said sitting her daughter down at the kitchen table, “I need to know that you don’t do this kind of thing when your friends are around.”

               “Don’t worry, mommy.” Arletta said in a small voice, legs kicking under the table making the glass of water in front of her dance. “I don’t have any friends.”

Arletta’s mother shook her head. She sat beside her strange daughter and put a hand on her shoulder.

               “Well then people.” Said her mother, and edge to her voice now. “Tell me you do not do this kind of thing around people! This is a family secret, remember? Special only if its secret. That means no showing off. No trying to impress people. It means keeping your family safe Arletta.” Now that she was older Arletta had become curious about why what she could do with water was wrong. Her mother never explained, only looked anxious and worried which made Arletta anxious and worried.

               ‘its getting worse” her mother hissed at her father from behind the locked door. “ I caught her floating the water in her water glass this morning, she was still asleep! What happens if someone sees it? Tell me that, what happens when people figure out our daughter is a-“

               “She is our daughter and if you ever think of calling her what you were about to call her, there will be bigger issues then her ‘power’” Her father had always stood up for her and it made Arletta feel safe.

               “You know what I mean,” continued her mother, “how long can we keep this up? You know these things always get worse with puberty and she is nearly 12 years old. What are we going to do if she loses control? “her mother was angry, her whisper loud and harsh. Arletta put a hand to her stomach, it gurgled slightly, anxiety making it twist and tighten. She calmed the liquid inside herself and she felt a little better.

               “Maybe I can take her to see my mother. She knows more about these kinds of things. Maybe she can help.” Said her father, resignedly.

               “See that you do” said her own mother in a haughty tone “I can’t take much more of this. If the old bat can’t help her, then just leave her there. I can’t keep hiding what she is from the world. Not when she insists on letting the world see.” Her footsteps sounded towards the door and Arletta scrambled away. She didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping. Back in her tiny room she sat rocking back and forth, trying to remember when she ‘tried to show the world’ but could not. She had always tried to be so careful. Now she would be sent away, and there was nothing she could do about it.

               The next day her father packed up her clothes, her books and her toys and led her to the car. Behind her on the porch her mother stood, eyes hard, arms crossed over her chest.

               “I love you mom” Arletta said, in a weak voice, she waited for a moment to hear her mothers reply but the woman only waved and then walked back into the house. She hadn’t even smiled, somehow Arletta knew that this would be the last time she would see her mother.

               It was a long drive to Gramma’s house and Arletta had fallen asleep for most of the journey. When they finally arrived, Grandma was sitting on the porch, a pitcher of iced tea and a bag knitting at her side. An old tom cat lay at her feet purring away like a motorcycle flipped on its back. Gramma wore a long house dress and smelled of lavender and mint.

               Arletta was told to bring her suitcase inside, and when she came back out of the house, the car and her father were gone. She ran after him, down the long drive right up to the gate, but he was gone, the dust just settling after the tires had kicked it up. Tear stained and broken hearted Arletta came back and sat down next to her gramma. The tom cat lifted his head, stood, stretched, and lazily walked over to Arletta, he plopped himself in her lap and began to purr loudly. Arletta stroked his fur and sobbed.

               “Now darling, you get out all those tears. I know you’ve been holding them back for a while so go ahead, just let them all go.” A warm hand was stroking Arletta’s hair and she wept until she was too tired to weep. When she was quiet her grandmother poured her a cup of tea and began to tell her own story.

               “When I was a little girl, I was lonely too. I learned that I could talk to the flowers and they would talk back to me. They told me stories, kept me company and I loved them. One day as I sat in the meadow, a boy came out of the woods and caught me in the act. He called me names and soon the other children did the same. I had no friends but the flowers but soon I stopped talking to them, to show the other kids I was normal. In time they even believed it, but I missed my real friends. When I got older and met your Grandpa, we had a child together, your father. I spent years, scared, and worried that he might be special too. I kept looking for signs that he spoke to plants, or animals, but he was normal and so I thought that I was alone in the world with this ability. I was relieved and even shared my fears with your grandfather. That had been a mistake, though. Your grandfather was pragmatic and as logical as they came. The idea that his wife was different was not something he could endure, and it put a distance between us. He began taking longer and longer trips into town until one day he simply did not return. Your father blamed me, and as soon as he was old enough, he left home, leaving me here alone.

               “Where you lonely?” asked Arletta.

               “At first I was,” she replied, smiling kindly at Arletta, “but soon I began to garden, I grew plants and vegetables and of course, flowers. Soon I was surrounded by friends and I didn’t feel lonely anymore. I felt whole, and I didn’t need other people around when I had my friends. Then you came along, my little love, and when your father told me about your ability, I knew you were just like me. Your father is a good man, but far too much like his own. I often wonder if he simply suppressed whatever talent he had just to please his father, then your mother. “

               At the mention of her mother Arletta’s cheeks became wet again and her grandmother sighed.

               “It’s not really her fault.” Gramma said, pulling Arletta into a hug. “She had a rough childhood too, and when she fell in love with my son, they treated her badly in town until the two of them decided to find somewhere new, without anyone who knew them. When you came along it brought back all her old fears and she is not so strong as all that. Forgive her, my little love, for your own heart as much as hers. Forgive your father too, he brought you here so you could be free, here no one will judge us or mistreat us. When you are old enough, and you have full control we can go back to the world together.

               Years passed and Arletta grew tall and beautiful. Her power had grown as well and now at the age of 17 she could direct entire storm systems, move water from barrel to barrel, call up water from a well, she could make a ball of water and float it up around her and then lift herself into the air. She practiced in secret of course, terrified that someone would find out and reveal her secret to the world.

               “There is going to be a storm tonight,” she announced to her Grandma as she came in from her morning walk. “ I can feel it. The water is excited today” She had a smile plastered to her face and her grandmother knew it was going to be a big one.

               “Help me get the storm shutters and then you can go. I know it's your favorite but just be careful” Arletta whooped with delight and ran around the house shutting windows and locking them against the storm. For a moment she paused and turned to her grandma.

               “Do you want me to stay? The storm might hurt the flowers and I could direct it away,”

               “No child, the storm makes them stronger, or sends them home. Either way it is not for us to interfere. Go on to your favorite spot. I know how much you love to watch the waterfall in full bloom.”

               “Thanks Grandma!” Arletta bounced out of the house, letting the rain touch her skin and flow through her hair, feeling the tiny caresses as it slid down her skin. She felt alive, elated, free.

               Soon she was at the waterfall, already the storm had added enough water for it to roar like a wild beast. She looked around, carefully to make sure no one was watching then she pushed the water around her into a bubble and lifted herself into the air. She positioned her bubble on top of the waterfall, enjoying the site of the water disappearing below her into the dark pool before cascading down the riverbed towards town.

she heard the sharp cry from below and to the left. She opened a portal in her water bubble to try to hear the sound more clearly. Someone was screaming, ‘help me’. Without thinking Arletta moved her bubble towards the sound. It moved smoothly through the storm, and suddenly she saw the child, clinging to a branch, about to be washed away by the rain and the river water. She could see his family on the bank of the river, shouting for him to hold on. Arletta hesitated only for a second before she opened the bottom of the bubble and dove into the water below. She pushed the water around her and created a new bubble only this time with herself and the little boy inside. She wrapped her arms around him, concentrating on the bubble as she pushed it towards the bank, towards his family and the death of her secret. The bubble burst as it landed on solid land and Arletta and the boy spilled from it weak and tired. The boy wasn’t moving and Arletta gently laid him onto his back. She put her head to his chest and listened for a heartbeat. It was barely there. She put two hands on his chest and pushed the water from his lungs, when his mouth opened, she pulled the water up and out. It formed into a small bubble in the air before the boy sputtered and coughed. The family ran over, clutched the boy and eyed Arletta for a moment before the mother pulled Arletta into a hug. Whispering thank you, thank you, thank you!  

That had been the day everything changed for Arletta. When next she had ventured into town for supplies, she was met with kindness, smiles and handshakes. She had saved a life, and the townsfolk all knew about it now. Instead of calling her a freak, they called her hero. Unused to this attention, Arletta found it hard at first, but soon, coaxed by her peers, she began to relax, and even made friends. Little by little she let go of the fear and began to show her power, making life better for all those around her. She embraced her gift, and finally she felt whole.