The Two Week Treehouse

When he woke Abasi heard his mother whistling happily as she worked in the kitchen. She was chopping the greens for romazava and the meat was already braising. Looking over at him with a smile, she grabbed a banana and tossed it to him, followed by a mango.

"Eat up. We leave soon."

"Where to?"

"Your sisters came up with the rest of the money we need. Today we get the chair for your father!"

He ate the fruit and some bread with jam while his mother finished her preparations. The stew went on to simmer and they headed out.

"The rocking chair is for father?"

Her smile was in place as they walked. "It is."

"Why? Does he need a new chair?"

"Our anniversary was last week and I didn't have the money."

He had a vague idea that an anniversary was the day that old people had gotten married.

"Does he get something every year?"

"Every single year."

"That's pretty nice."

Maybe there was more to this marriage thing than he had thought.

Mother made a big show of looking over the chair, running her fingers along the engraving, and having the merchant hold it up so she could look at the underside.

"I'll take it."

"Yes, madam. Um, thirty percent less? Delivery free, of course."

"Delivery, yes, but I will pay full price."

He looked around nervously, as if Father would leap out and strike him down.

"Um, alright. Full price. They come with beautiful cushions."

"Just the chair."

"Madam, they are included with the chair."

She paused and finally nodded. "The chair and cushions, then."

Counting out the money carefully, she paid the man and supervised his helpers as they carried the chair. Abasi looked back to the market as they left and saw the Howdy American. The man raised an eyebrow, tipped his hat, and gave Abasi a short bow. Shivering, the boy caught up to his mother and with some trepidation took her hand.

Mother had the men place the chair in five different spots before she was finally happy. She gave each of them a small amount of money and some water and then stood there, smile still in place, admiring the chair.

"Come here, Abasi."

He did.

"Isn't it a handsome chair?"

"It is. Can I try it?"

"Tomorrow. Your father will be the first to use it." Leaning down, she kissed the top of his head. "Go play. Enjoy yourself. I'll call you when you have to get washed up."

She was humming as she cooked when he bolted out of the back door and towards the treehouse. He jumped across the small brook that ran in front of it, grabbed the handholds, and climbed up.

"I'm back!"

Mr. Middle nodded. "That you are, lad. That you are. We've been thinking about your curse."

"Ugh. Who cares? Do you have any stories?"

Mr. Left tilted his head and sat down. "Let me tell you the tale of the Boy and the Four Lost Jewels. A long time ago in a place called Alagascar lived the son of a knight and a beautiful maiden. This family had four rare jewels that—"

"Wait, you're not fooling me. Are the four jewels the boy's sisters?"

The small man harrumphed. "May I tell my story? May I continue? May I progress without being halted like an errant bard?"

"It is, isn't it? They're stupid. I don't want any stories about my sisters or jewels. I hate them."

Mr. Right stood up and grabbed his hat. "Such a thing to say! You don't hate them, Abasi. They are your greatest treasure. Say such a thing again and I'll close off my heart to you, I swear it!"

"We all seem a bit agitated." Mr. Middle patted the floor. "Sit down, lad. We're thinking that the problem is one of proximity and perspective. Now, if I was one to place a wager on occasion, and I am, I'd bet every last coin that your sisters love you. The issue is that you see each other so often that you have no time to let grass grow between you and it's that grass that warms your soul. You're right up against each other and that causes friction. The best balm for the irritation from that friction is a grand display, and that is where we are going to help you."

"I have no idea what any of that means."

Mr. Middle sighed. "Alright, Abasi. Here is what we need you to do. Go down to the shore and find four pretty rocks. Make them smooth and think about a particular sister when you choose each one. Can you do that for us, lad?"

"I guess, but I really..." He looked to Mr. Right. "I really don't like them much. Sometimes maybe a little, but not much. Maybe Chuki. She's not so bad."

"Well, hurry off. The sooner you're done, the sooner we can get to work."

He began climbing down but quickly back up. Peeking his head back in, he spoke.

"Hey, why two weeks?"

"What?"

"Why did you want two weeks here?"

Mr. Middle looked at the other men and then back to Abasi.

"The man chasing us, he has a talent for Tracking. His mark on us lasts for two weeks. After that, it fades and we can avoid him."

"Huh. You people are weird."

Abasi found a pinkish stone for Chuki quickly, but the others took more time. He thought of each sister as he found more. One was almost pure white, another shiny black and the third had a streak of silver running through it. While thinking of them he remembered birthdays and piggyback rides, shared sweets, and them sitting with him and coloring. Maybe they weren't horrible. Maybe.

Back in the treehouse, he pulled the four stones from his pocket. Sitting down, he placed them on the floor one by one, naming each sister as he did so.

"Well done, lad. Well done. We're doing this together, understand? When asked, you can honestly say that you helped make them and your hand was part of the crafting."

"Crafting what?"

Mr. Middle pulled silver and red metal strands from his pocket.

"Necklaces, one for each sister. The stones shall be a centerpiece for each."

In a hushed tone, Abasi stared at the metal and spoke. "Where did those come from?"

"Your cans of Coke. They won't quite be the Diadem of Deirdre or the Thousand Year Brooch, but they shall suffice."

The three little men and Abasi worked together and finally snapped a stone into a stone into each necklace. The boy marveled at the workmanship and beauty, hardly believing they were made from soda cans.

"Is this... Magic?"

"Of a sort, lad. Of a sort."

"They're beautiful."

"That they are, but the stones are the key. We need one more favor. Clear your head of your sisters, go back to the shore, and find one more stone. Make it the most special of them all. Follow your heart, Abasi. Find your mother's stone and bring it back."

He looked, found many stones, and rejected them all. Near tears, he finally walked back to the treehouse, the weight of fifty rocking chairs on his shoulders. As he was about to jump over the brook, he saw it. A smooth rock that was perfectly round with a bit of silver, a bit of white, a bit of black, and a bit of pink.

The rocking chairs turned to clouds and floated off his shoulders. Abasi practically flew up the ladder.

"I have it!" He held up his treasure.

"Oh, that is a fine stone. Fine indeed."

The necklace for his mother had five entwined lengths of metal, one for each child. They crafted the circlet together and popped the stone in. It was as if it was fastened with cement and wouldn't budge from its place.

"It really is magic."

Mr. Middle tapped him on his chest, right above his heart. "Of a sort, lad."

Taking hold of the boy's shoulders, Mr. Left looked him in the eyes. "Listen carefully. Emphasize the stone. Explain how each stone was chosen carefully for a specific sister. Now, here is the key and where the magic will be. Tell each of them a memory when you hand them the necklace. Maybe a game, maybe a story they read you, maybe a gift they gave you. It doesn't matter what it is, but it has to be specific to the recipient and it has to come from here." He also tapped Abasi's chest.

Forgetting for a moment how much he loathed his curse, Abasi hugged the little men and ran to the house. He fidgeted and constantly checked the windows until they arrived. For once there was no urge to run, to fight against their hugs, to hide in his room.

They all arrived before his father and brought dishes for the dinner.

"Sit down. Please. For a minute."

"Not now, Abasi. We'll play later." His eldest sister stirred the stew and added a touch of salt.

"Not now, Abasi. We have to clean." His next eldest sister began sweeping the kitchen.

"Not now, Abasi. We have to set the table." His next eldest sister placed forks, spoons, and knives down.

"Alright, Abasi." Chuki sat.

"Please. Just two minutes. Mother?"

She turned to see her children all together. "Sit down, girls. What is it, Abasi?"

His back to them, he pulled the necklace for his eldest sister from his pocket. Approaching her, he held it out.

"The stone is black. Like your hair. It's really shiny and looks nice all the time. Remember when that boy knocked down my cake and you bought me another one and yelled at him? I... I remember."

He handed her the necklace and hugged his sister. She sat there, open-mouthed, staring at him.

Abasi repeated this with Zahira. "Do you remember when I won that patch and you sewed it onto my jacket?"

"It was last week, Abasi. Of course I remember."

He looked at the ground, embarrassed by his emotions. "Well, it... It looks very nice.

Abasi turned to Hartha and pulled her necklace from his pocket. "When we made the treehouse you wanted to help and I told you it was boys only. You looked at Father and Grandfather and was sad and I didn't say anything and you still painted the sign that said 'Abasi' to hang on the tree. I remember that. It was a very nice sign and I'm sorry you didn't get to help."

Finally, he pulled out the necklace for Chuki.

"Chuki, this is for you." He leaned forward, handed it to her, and whispered in her ear. "You keep all my secrets."

Mother wiped tears from her cheek. "Abasi... Where did you get these from?"

"I found the stones by the water and my friends helped me make the necklaces."

He did crafts in school and she accepted his answer.

"They are beautiful. The girls are lucky to have such a brother."

"Wait!" He pulled out the last necklace. "I looked and looked and looked and finally found this stone. See? It has a bit of each of the others. And five necklaces in one, a necklace for each of us. See? Me and the girls. Five of us. See?"

Openly crying, Mother nodded her head.

"I see, Abasi. I see."

She hugged him tightly, not letting go, and for once he didn't mind.

Father was very pleased and everyone had a chance to try his new chair and praise Mother's gift. They all wore their necklaces and would often wander by the mirror to gaze at the evidence of their brother's love.

That night his mother came to his room before he slept and kissed his forehead.

"You're a very good boy, Abasi, and I love you very much. Sleep well, my son."

The days passed quickly, and the little men assured Abasi that he was a natural raconteur. He had no idea what that meant, but thanked them politely. His lessons with his grandfather continued, but he also spent time with his father, his mother, and his treehouse guests.

Mother was so pleased with the rocking chair that she began looking for a footstool. They were at the end of the market, at the furniture man's stall again as she asked about prices and tried to find something that matched Father's chair.

Remembering the little men's request for cake and knowing they would be leaving soon, Abasi went to get some honey donuts and more banana beignets. The vendor liked the boy and gave him much more than what his money would actually buy. Bags full, Abasi headed back towards the furniture stall, passing the tables and benches used by people to sit and eat.

A strong hand grabbed him by the shoulder. Dropping his bags, he stared up at the Howdy American's snarling face.

"Where are they, boy! Time is growing short and I'm not leaving empty-handed."

"I... I don't know who you mean."

He closed his eyes and hoped it wouldn't hurt when the man hit him. Instead of striking Abasi, he shook the little boy.

"Don't lie to me! You've got their stench all over you!"

Eyes closed tight, Abasi tried to turn to his side and cover up as much as possible. He heard a thump and a squelching sound.

"Ow!"

Looking up, he saw the man's other hand brushing the remains of a honey apple from his head.

"Get your hands off my brother!" his eldest sister growled.

"He stole something from me! As soon as he tells me where it is I'll let him go."

A banana struck him from another direction.

"You'll let him go now!" Cried his next eldest sister.

The man moved behind Abasi and held him with both hands.

"Back off! I don't want to have to hurt the boy."

A whole pineapple whizzed past his head.

"If he gets hurt, you'll get hurt." His next eldest sister said in a cold, cold voice.

"Stop it! All I want is the information!"

Chuki, the sister that left home to follow in her father's footsteps, walked towards the man in her crisp brown uniform. Her face was lightning, harsh rain, and storms as she slowly pulled out her baton.

"Let go of Abasi now or I'm going to beat you until you regret the day you ever set eyes on him."

The man let go and began to run. The sisters pelted him, knocked him to the ground and Chuki brought him to jail, putting him behind iron bars, which everyone knows is a bane to magic.

The women wouldn't stop checking Abasi, hugging him and asking if he was okay. He didn't mind so much and finally decided that he might be okay with his curse.

Maybe.

He was back in his treehouse that afternoon.

"Well, lad, we're off. It's been a true pleasure and you've offered more than agreed upon. Your generosity is noted."

"What? But... But you still have two days!"

"Yes, but he can't track us now."

"But you don't have to go. You can stay. Even after the two weeks. No deals or agreements. You can just stay and we can tell stories and I'll bring more beignets. Here!"

He held out the two bags from the market.

Mr. Middle looked sad. "It's not as if we're happy to leave you, but we have our own families. You can understand that, can't you, Abasi? We left to keep them safe, but now we need to get back to them. You wouldn't want them to be missing us, would you?"

He promised himself he wouldn't cry and he held himself together.

"Can you come back?"

"Maybe, lad. Maybe."

"Okay." Abasi spit in his hand and held it out. "Deal. Done and done."

Mr. Middle looked at the outstretched hand. Mr. Left looked at the outstretched hand. Mr. Right looked at the outstretched hand.

"None of that, now." Mr. Middle said as he moved past the hand and hugged the boy.

The two others followed suit.

"We keep our bargains, Abasi Zubira. What we agreed upon is yours, and you'll find something else as well. Stay strong and keep your family close. Give our compliments to your grandfather on his wards."

Abasi watched as they walked away and then sat there for a long time, wondering if he'd ever see his friends again.

His mother and sisters all came to see him before he went to sleep. They all wore their necklaces. As he fluffed his pillow, he felt something below it. A piece of folded parchment held a green leaf.

Abasi unfolded the parchment and read the stylized writing.

Your Foretelling:

Upon the shores of the New World and in the Realm of Morpheus you shall find love and true friends. Stand by their side and they shall stand by yours.

Pulling the green leaf out, he held it to the window to examine it by the moonlight. It was the largest four-leaf clover he'd ever imagined seeing.

With thanks to the Animal Advocates for their feedback and editing. My appreciation also goes out to Mr. Mont, Mr. Buff, Mr. Z, Phillip, Jerry, Laurence, Adam and Ken for their support.

This story is a companion piece to "An Unseelie Court", which can be found HERE