The Storyteller

"Daddy, are we there yet?" a six-year-old boy's voice whined from the backseat of an old-looking gray Ford Explorer.

            "Almost, Jason! Hush and let Dad drive!" a thirteen-year-old girl chastised the whiner, turning in her seat at shotgun to look him in the eye to emphasize her point. Jason pouted.

            "I just wanted to know," he crossed his arms indignantly and stared at his shoes.

            "Yeah! I wanna know too!" another girl bounced in the seat next to the boy. She too was only six years old, almost identical to her brother. "When do we get there, Daddy?"

            The driver, Joseph Donaldson, chuckled.

            "We've been coming here every weekend since you both were two, Sherry. Isn't your teacher supposed to be teaching you how to tell time? And Jessie, turn back around. I don't want you sitting like that."

            "Yes, Dad," the girl in the front gave one last glare at the twins in the back before refocusing her attention on the road ahead.

            "I don't need to learn to tell time, Daddy! All of our clocks are digitable!"

            Jessie snorted, and Sherry frowned.

            "It's digital, Sherry, not digitable. And you ought to learn it anyway. Not all clocks will give you the exact minute," Joseph smiled fondly as he chanced a look in his rear-view mirror at his twins. They and Jessie were all that were left to him from what had been a promising, loving, and complete family. A terrible car accident four years ago had left him a single father and widower with no desire to remarry. The same accident not only had claimed his wife, but their seven-year-old son, Caleb. Both were buried six feet under the soil of a large weeping willow tree in the local cemetery. At the funeral, Joseph's mother, Maria, had pulled him aside.

            "Joseph," she had whispered, "are you going to consider remarrying?"

            Joseph had been taken aback, stunned that his own mother would suggest such a thing on the day of her daughter-in-law and grandson's burial.

            "Remarrying?!" he had shouted. "Why the hell would I want to remarry, Mother?! I just lost the most important thing to me, and you're suggesting I replace her already?!"

            Maria had not been unnerved by the outburst, and instead patted his shoulder.

            "She may have been important, son, but you have your children, three that still live today. You have to take care of them, especially the babies. Children need mothers, Joseph. I'm not going to let you raise them without a mother figure in their lives."

            The next weekend had begun the four-year ritual of taking a thirty minute drive to Maria Donaldson's house for milk, cookies, entertainment, and mother-like nurturing. Joseph turned a corner, and his mother's house came into view. It was an inviting place outside of the cream-colored walls. Birdhouses were scattered among the branches of three large oaks in the front yard, and blooming flowers of all kinds swayed under a small breeze around the oaks and numerous pine trees. A budding camellia bush shivered beside a varnished, intricately decorated wooden door. Twisting vines climbed a brick fireplace. Windowsills were lined with potted plants, birdhouses, and an occasional mewing cat. Joseph had grown up there, and almost nothing had changed. All that had, it seemed, was the tiny old woman leaning on a cane who had placed herself beside the camellia bush, wooden door swinging wide open behind her.

            The moment Joseph set the car into park in the gravel driveway, two doors were flung open, and the twins bolted from their seats towards the aged mother, yelling "Gramma!" the whole way. Together, they claimed a hug from their grandmother, Sherry attached to her left leg, and Jason to her right. Jessie was more restrained and preferred to grumble as she reluctantly opened the car door. Joseph shook his head as he waited for her to shut the door so he could lock the car. His late wife had warned him of what happened to girls when they hit Jessie's age, but he hadn't expected such rebelliousness from a girl who three years prior had been romping around in dresses and shorts with two four-year-olds in Grandmother Maria's backyard.

            Maria led the two children into the house as the teen shuffled towards the door and Joseph finished locking up the car. The scent of fresh baked goods drifted around everyone's head the moment they passed the doorway.

            "If your father says you were good on the way here, I'll let you each have a brownie before dinner, straight from the oven," Grandmother Maria smiled, patting Sherry's head as Jessie finally trudged in. The wondrous scents seemed to even lighten her grouchiness, as her frown diminished the slightest bit. Four large, yearning eyes looked at their father as he closed the door behind him. Joseph paused, having missed his mother's previous, and raised an eyebrow.

            "Mother, what did you tell them?" he asked, suspicious and yet still knowing she had promised them something.

            "Daddy, we were good on the way here, weren't we, Daddy? We tried really, really hard Daddy! We were good!" the two beggars' pleas mixed with each other, but Joseph was able to get the point. Food in exchange for good behavior was the same technique Maria had used on him from when he was the age of his youngest up through his college years. He remembered one phone call his roommates had taken from her. He had entered his dorm room to find his two roommates in fits of laughter and a written note saying "Mom will send fudge if you behave and get good grades."

            "Yes, you were both very good. Don't spoil dinner," Joseph rustled his son's hair as he and Sherry rushed off towards the kitchen. Maria chuckled and followed them to make sure they didn't get themselves hurt to get their rewards. Jessie sighed, a short, exasperated sound.

            "I'm going out back, Dad. Call me when it's time for dinner."

            Before he could say anything in reply, the teenager had gone off through the hall into the living room where she had access to out back.

            "She'll be gone before you know it, that one," Maria appeared beside Joseph, steadying herself on her cane. Joseph only looked out after her. "I know what you're thinking."

            "I always knew you did, mother. It's a psychic thing women have that us men never are lucky enough to get. You told me that, and Anne seconded it," he smiled softly. "So what am I thinking, mother?"

            "That she's just like Annie."

            Maria couldn't have been any closer to the truth unless she had opted not to call her late daughter-in-law by her pet name. Joseph opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the scampering of two miniature humans running into the room, mouths darkened by chocolate.

            "Gramma, tell us a story!" Jason demanded, hugging her leg a second time.

            "Yeah! Please Gramma?" Sherry begged, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

            "Well," Maria paused for thought and glanced towards the kitchen. "Yes…I do believe I can. Joseph, can you have Jessie keep watch on dinner for me? You know she will. She's a good girl like that. You go tell her, and we'll decide what kind of story we want in the living room."

            The twins cheered and ran on ahead in their excitement. Joseph lumbered past his aged mother to go find Jessie, and Maria began to tap her way towards her story-telling chair, an old armchair her father had bought. The red, patternless fabric was falling off in places, in some rotted away entirely. One or two holes led to a place where a mother cat had kept her kittens a year ago. One of those kittens was currently out front stalking a bluebird. The two children had settled themselves silently in front of the ancient relic of a chair and watched their grandmother with earnest as she slowly walked her way to it and took her seat with a small grunt of relaxation.

            "There now," she smiled, resting her cane on a table beside her. "What sort of story do you rascals want to hear today?"

            "I wanna hear a story about a princess!" Sherry chimed, beaming widely with anticipation of hearing her grandmother accept the proposal. Jason, however, grimaced with disgust.

            "Who wants to hear a stupid story about a princess? All stories are about princesses!" he griped. "I wanna hear something about pirates and monsters!"

            The door to the back yard shut with a bang as Jessie sulked past them towards the kitchen. The twins pretended to ignore their sibling, too engrossed in their own disagreement.

            "Princess!"

            "Pirates and monsters!"

            "Pirates are icky and monsters are ugly and mean!"

            "Princesses are stuck-up and stupid!"

            "Children, children!" Maria rapped her cane on the table as Joseph came in after Jessie. He looked towards the kitchen, but decided against following her and sat down in his father's old recliner. The twins ceased their arguing and looked up towards their grandmother. "I'll only tell you a story if you behave. Now, I know of one story that has pirates, monsters, and a princess. If that suits you fine, I'll tell it. There's a bit of a story to tell before we get to the princesses and pirates. If you like it, I'll tell you the whole story. Is that good?"

            "Yes, Gramma," Jason and Sherry nodded together and looked up at the wrinkled storyteller with rapt attention.

            "Just make sure it's alright for them to hear, mother," Joseph warned, knowing that sometimes her stories could be a little carried away in the area of violence. The twins and Jessie had refused to go to bed for two nights after hearing the first story Maria had for them. Joseph learned to sit in on her storytelling sessions to remind her not to traumatize them too badly.

            "Don't worry, son. I'll be careful," Maria cleared her throat and leaned back against the pillows in her chair, silent for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. Then she leaned forward again. The twins wiggled with anticipation, and the grandmother began.

            "It was said in all corners of the old world known as Atruce that when the goddesses of Light and Darkness had begun to create the world, they made Meriquinne as a sample for what was to come. Indeed, it was known that the island was one of the oldest lands in existence, with the strangest variety of environments. To the north, the island was covered with trees, some of the most lovely one could ever see. In the spring and summer months, the trees grew large leaves, green and bright, but come fall, the leaves changed to gold, silver, and bronze before winter turned them a cold brown of death."

            "Mother-"

            "I'm allowed to refer to dying trees, aren't I, Joseph?" Maria shot, angered at being interrupted.

            "I…suppose so," Joseph surrendered and silenced himself again. Maria began again.

"To the east were many warm hills and valleys, an even temperature through all days and nights due to a large volcano on a peninsula in the north-east. The south and west were meadow and lake, as was the large expanse of land in between all four areas.

"Once the land was formed, the goddesses formed from the surrounding waters four creatures of different form, yet all were one. These creatures were the First Dragons. Each dragon was given a cardinal direction to rule over and populate. Meriquinne was to be theirs for eternity. For a time, all was well. The woodland dragons, small and quick, darted around the trees of the north forest, and the earth dragons frolicked in the rocky meadows of the west. The fire dragons kept home inside the volcano in the west, and the ice dragons comforted themselves with the south. It is said that after one hundred years, the first ice dragon perished, and as his soul passed from his body, the energy released was powerful enough to freeze the very land an air in an endless winter. Whether the story was true or not was left unknown, for no others were there to witness it."

"Cool…" Jason breathed in awe. Sherry shuddered and leaned away from her monster-crazed sibling. Maria chuckled softly.

"All was well for the dragons of Meriquinne for many years, and it seemed like forever until," Maria paused for effect, "the other creatures of the goddesses discovered it. The Light goddess's creation, the humans, landed on the rocky western coast and were greeted by curious earth dragons. Amazed by the creatures they had never seen before, the humans stayed and built a city on the coast. However, not long after the city was completed, the Darkness goddess's creation arrived. These were the race of the vampires."

Sherry gasped in fear as Jason's eyes proved they could become even wider.

"The vampires," Maria continued, "built their village on the east coast. The island was large, and for many years, neither knew the other was there. Men from the west city had been collecting leaves from the Northern Forest trees in the fall for currency and were doing so when a band of vampire warriors had arrived upon hearing tales of red-skinned creatures much like their own appearing in the north. The trouble would have started there had the woodlands dragons not forbidden battling within their given realm. However, trouble would begin.

"In the winter months after the first meeting of vampires and humans, the city of the west, which was then called Meriquinne-"

"What's Mary Quinn mean, Gramma?" Sherry asked, curious. Maria smiled broadly at the girl's mispronunciation.

"In the language of the humans, Meriquinne meant 'gift of the ocean.' Indeed, the island was the gift of the ocean. After the city was built, traders began to stop there in between shipments. The city quickly became a prosperous port. But that was beside the point and I would have said it eventually. As I was saying, in the winter months, the people of Meriquinne elected to choose a King. A palace was built, a glorious palace, more stunning than any other sight in the world, it was said. People began to come for miles to see the palace and the man within. They questioned him on all matters, as he was said to be wise beyond any others. But there was one issue in which the King had little knowledge, and this was of warfare.

"Across the island, the vampires had elected a leader as well, calling him the Old One. Vampires, being conflictive by nature, knew much of warring, and they used the knowledge against the humans. The vampires attacked the city in the dead of winter, but there was one flaw in their plan. Would you care to guess what it was?"

The question was met with silence. Sherry and Jason looked up to their father for an answer, but he was lost as well. He hesitated. No father wanted to admit to their kindergarten-aged children that they didn't know everything there was to know. A saving voice came from the hallway.

"The winter."

All four occupants in the living room looked towards the hall door. Jessie stood there, one hand pressed against the door's edge.

"The winter," she repeated. "The vampires lived where it was always warm, even in the winter. You said it was because of the volcano. They would have been unprepared for the cold weather that probably came in the west."

Maria nodded once content that Jessie had finished her answer. The corner of the teen's mouth twitched upward, and she edged into the room, leaning against the door frame to listen.

"Yes, that's exactly right. The cold surprised them, and the humans were able to fight the vampires off. The battle was a fierce one due to the unexpected conditions, and many were lost on both sides, but the humans were victorious. The gods, however, were intrigued by the battle. They wished for more. More battles between the vampires and the humans would rage, but they would tire of that. Thus, they began to create. Over a course of three years after the first battle, many monsters appeared around the island. In the oceans around Meriquinne, as the whole island had come to be known, blue-skinned creatures who called themselves merfolk swam. All the while, only the earth dragons remained loyal to the humans. The merfolk warred in the waters with swimmers, ice creatures encased wary travelers as statues, fire animals burned the flesh off reckless adventurers!"

"Mother!" Joseph shouted. She had begun to get a bit violent with her tale, and she hadn't even given them characters to meet. Maria glanced up to meet her son's glare.

"Sorry, son. Sometimes I get carried away you know, but I'm going to tell this story properly, with every bit of death and pain I heard of when I was told this story," the old mother grinned mischievously. "If you would prefer I wait until they're older, I'll think of another story to tell them, but I quite like this one. I'd almost forgotten about it," she clucked her tongue.

"If it gets much worse than that. I don't want to be sitting up with them again…is," Joseph sniffed the air, "is something burning?"

Jessie gasped, her hands shooting up to cover her mouth.

"Oh my God! I forgot about the dinner!"

"Jessie!" Joseph yelled, jumping to his feet and running for the kitchen. The twins took off after him with cries of "let us help, Daddy!" Maria only remained sitting, her cane now back in her hands and tapping rhythmically against the floor.

"Grandma, I'm sorry, I completely forgot-" Maria held up a hand to silence her granddaughter.

"It's quite all right, dear. Your mother used to do the same thing," she nodded. There was silence between them, the wizened old storyteller and the awkward young girl. Jessie broke it after a few moments of listening to banging around in the kitchen and yells of "Jason Donaldson, get out of there this instant!" and "Sherry, don't do that!"

"Grandma," she hesitated, twisting the heel of her foot absentmindedly into the carpeting, "I'd like to hear the story. I know the twins are a bit too young for it. I could tell, but I want to hear the rest."

"You've barely heard anything at all. I hadn't even gotten to the first true war between the humans and the vampires with their allies, and that's over a hundred years before the story begins."

"I know, Grandma."

Maria smiled again, this one a special one reserved for special moments as the one shared between the two generations.

"All right then, honey. After your brother and sister go to bed tonight, I'll tell you the whole story."

For the first time that day, Jessie truly smiled back.