Wicked Falls is not a place, but a bouquet of thirteen short curiosities, interactive one act plays, tainted tales, and magical amusements. Something wicked isn’t always a bad thing and falling can be a good experience. The trick is in the balancing. There must be darkness with equal parts of light to create a comfortable pathway that predictable feet will follow. Mystery and adventure tempting your peripherals will draw you close to the less familiar edge and challenge your sensitivities. I say close your eyes, spread your arms out, and leap! Everyone falls, but some can choose their landing. Choose to stray, fall off the edge, fall behind, but don’t fall asleep. Find your character and fall in love with Wicked Falls Reliquary. 

Falling Off the Edge

When Cabel Leon Carson got up that Monday morning, he had no intention of pulling his loaded Winchester out of the gun cabinet. He just did it. After Cabel ate his breakfast and got dressed for work, he had no intention of putting the rifle in the car next to his lunch bucket. But he did it.  He pulled out of his dirt driveway and drove away from his tiny old wooden house. The house with the rickety time worn porch complete with matching rickety rocker and torn duct taped screen door with the “Condemned Notice” slapped on it by a county worker too afraid to knock. Just like the electric company representative, the water guy, and the telephone man. The Jehovah Witness ladies even stopped coming by but the pamphlets didn’t. They were stuck and tucked behind the rusty decorative metal scroll work that held the screen door together. “Ain’t my house no more anyways,” he told the post man who stood there awkwardly with no idea of how to answer,” you can leave all the mail you like, don’t matter much.”  The house his great grand pappy Ezekiel Kindallis Carson built, was born in, died in, just like all the Carsons this side of the ridge. But not Cabel. He had other plans for his going out.  He was leaving Podunka Ridge forever. Blaze of glory like those Hollywood movies. Bullets and bones, hopes and dreams, all up in glory flames.  Gonna sprout wings like Granny said. Obedient Cabel.  Doing the work of the Lord. His hands clenched on the worn baby blue leather steering wheel of his Paws’ old baby blue 1964 Ford Fairlane heading for the edge of the only world he knew. He figured he’d drive until he ran out of gas, eat his last supper, then BAM! He hoped the vultures would at least leave his ass intact so the world could kiss it. That’s when his back started itching. Itching real bad tween the shoulder blades. Really pissed him off since it was interfering with his suicide run.  “DANG IT ALL GRANNY” he yelled to anything that might be listening. He didn’t want to use the cuss words he really wanted to use AND the word Granny in the same sentence so he just yelled dang.  Granny was crazy with the shoulder blade thing. She must have been crazy. Right? He’d had a couple of lumps start up next to his shoulder blades for about a month now but didn’t think anything of it. Probably same thing his Paw died of. Crap from the mines taking over and deforming his body until he too was a mass of toxic yellow custard waiting to be scooped by the grim reaper.

     The dreams started a month prior to the back bumps.  Just like Granny said. Those stupid ideas she drilled into his head as a child. Little Cabel on a mission. Getting out of his hell to escort others out of theirs.  Granny sometimes called him the “Lord’s little Soul Walker. Glory glory for my sweet boy. Thank you Jesus.”  In the dream he would step off the porch, walk a ways then turn around and everything he knew was gone. No house, no porch, no granny. Just dirt and dusty warm air. So he kept on walking like his feet knew where to go.  Every now and then Granny would be on the side of the road doing her stiff arthritic dance, smiling and singing about Zion. Then she would disappear. The first time Cabel had this dream this is where he woke up sweating.  Every dream after that took him a little further down the road.  Never got hungry, cold, or thirsty. Just walking. The last dream he had before he decided he was tired of dreaming and tired of existing started out the same until he came upon a filling station with a small store next to it. The rusty cream and red coloured sign squealed and shook in the dry hot wind. The word on the sign rusted out and blurry. He knew he had to go in. His back started to itch and burn real bad.  It was silent when he entered the store.  The purple haired pierced lady behind the counter began to speak. He could not understand her. Everything was in slow motion. She pointed to a door that had the words Rest Room painted above it. He walked over and opened the door. The room was pitch black. His back was on fire now. He turned around and Granny was there with the purple pierced lady. They were rocking on their feet singing with their eyes closed and arms up in the air. He felt something pop between his shoulders and the pain sent him reeling into the darkness. The only thing to break his fall was the alarm clock. He hurled it across the room. No more. Today would be his last.  These dreams kind of capped off his “lost soul” feelings. No wife, no kids. The only Carson left of his family that he knew of. They had always been loners. Time to end the line, he thought.  And the nightmares. 

The car radio didn’t work so unfortunately that left thinking about things to fill the long solemn minutes he had left. He missed his Momma terribly. It would be good to see her again after he got out of hell. Granny believed suicides go there first, and then work their way on up to the pearly gates. She said, “The soul walkers take them on their long trek to atonement and judgment before the Lord.” And so Cabel’s Paw learned it and his boy learned it. Sometimes there is no sound to the action of a fate being sealed.  It can be silent and deadly. A bunch of years can go by and you don’t feel a thing. Then there it is. You’re 45 years old, no family, no ideas, yellow dust clinging to everything you touch, and you’re eating heated up slop from a can at a table for one. At least there would be no child to carry this burden from him.  This made Cabel smile. And it felt good to smile. He had to let go of the “escaping, marrying, and children” fantasy when he realized he was never leaving the Ridge, a long time ago. Besides, there weren’t any round girls left to cook his supper, wash his clothes and bear his children anyways.

     Memories began to flood his mind naturally since he was no longer interested in making any new ones.  He was twelve again.   Everyone’s angel. At least that’s what Granny Carson prophesied. That’s when Cabel started seeing his “edge.”  Nothing was round anymore.  Up until Granny said the words over him he liked round things.  He figured as long as things were round you could just keep going on. Like the freestanding globe in his classroom. You could spin it and it just looked right.  You “rounded” off your numbers in math class, sang in “rounds” in music class (even though Granny thought it was the Devil’s voice come to play tricks on the young. She even made Cabel’s father bring her to his school one day to tear his music teacher a new one about her being profane unto the Lord with unholy verses). Cabel even liked the developing roundness of the girls around him. Yes. Cabel was coming of age and natural progression in one world, and being dragged under in another. His heart broke when his Paw told him he had had enough schooling and it was time to help support the family. “Look at me Cabel. I only went to 4th grade, and we ain’t hurtin’ for nothing. Food on the table, shelter over our heads, and shoes on our feet.” Then he coughed up a wad as thick and yellow as a blob of store bought ready-made custard into a filthy yellowed handkerchief he pulled out of a pocket in his filthy yellowed overalls. They were cleaner before Cabel’s Momma died of lung cancer. That was her edge. Granny Carson blamed it on the yellow devil. Uranium oxide. Cabel learned that at school. But Momma didn’t work in the mines. Paw worked in the poison and momma paid for it Granny said. He watched his father tighten up every time Granny made reference to it. But he never saw him cry. Granny’s edge was explaining everything away with her own version of the Bible. EVERYTHING and EVERYBODY was going to fall at the edge of the world, she would say. He thought maybe she spoke funny because she only had 3 teeth left in her mouth. Cabel thought she meant to say “end” and not edge but it would have been disrespectful and deadly to ever ask her for clarification. He loved his granny with all his heart but sometimes she just made him nervous. Talking about angels, Hell, the “Walk of Souls.” She would have this fixed gaze when she would go into her speeches from her rocking chair. And it was always when no one else was around and usually when she was rocking on the porch, and always with him. While he just sat cross-legged on the dusty old boards. While he was thirsty or hungry. And the air was always too warm. And the breeze was always not enough to cool him. And he had to pee real badly but was afraid to ask for permission. She rocked methodically and every time she forward the rocker would hit a certain spot on the boards and the same creak eked out at the same pitch. Sometimes he felt like he was being rocked to sleep without even being in the chair himself. And her voice would drone on like the words were burrowing into every bone in his body. He knew it would be disrespectful to fall asleep while Granny was giving him lessons but dang if wasn’t too young for this grown-up stuff and things. “Your Granny she’s real old now Cabel. Might not be around much longer. There’s wisdom in them wrinkles son. Pay’em heed. You’ll understand one day.” His Paw would say. And before she died his momma told him, “She’s a crazy old lady Cabel. She tried to scare me away too. She’s gonna say things. Strange things about God, angels, devils. She wanted me to name you Salvation Carson. But I wasn’t having that. First fight your Paw and me ever had. Said you were born to fly. But there weren’t no pilots in the family so I decided, at that point, even though she wasn’t a drinker, she probably hit her head at some point in her life and …well… she has strange dreams and sees things that aren’t there. But she is old as Methuselah and we should respect that. So just smile and nod when she’s talkin’ and you’ll be alright one day.” Cabel smiled and nodded. Momma smiled, hugged him and coughed so hard blood came out on her handkerchief and on his shirt. She was gone soon after that.

Porch time with Granny and Cabel felt his head jerk. You know like when you’re tired and you start to fall asleep while you’re sitting?  That’s when Granny’s voice got louder. “YOU HEARIN’ ME BOY?” The rocker stopped too. Cabel nodded and smiled. It was all a rhythm. The nodding, smiling, the drone voice, the rocking, the creaking, and the singing. Boring a crater right into his little too young skull. “Behold, the Lord came with his holy myriads, to execute judgment on all, and to convict all the ungodly of all their deeds….” Was he sinning because he could not stay awake, was he going to hell because he thought Granny was crazy like Momma said? “These are the grumblers, malcontents, following their own passions, loud-mouthed boasters, flattering people to gain advantage. CABEL!” Cabel’s body jerked to attention. Just a slight sliver of fear rising in him. She stopped rocking and sat forward. “Come here boy, and turn around.” He did so. About once a month she dug her strong wrinkled thumbs deep into the flesh of his back next to his shoulder blades. “Any pain back here Cabel?” She would ask every time. And every time he would answer. “No ma’am. Nothing hurts yet.” YET? He thought. Does she want me to be hurt? This time he would ask. He turned to face her. Her spectacles perched on her thin long nose and her wrinkled face bunched up like she was gonna smite him if he said the wrong thing. “Granny?” He asked. “Yes boy.” She answered. He gazed into her eyes thoughtfully. “Am I supposed to hurt back there in the blades? Cuz I did fall yesterday and skinned my leg and that really hurts. How come you always check my blades? Ain’t nothing wrong with them?” He tugged up his left pants leg to show her the scrape. She smiled and clapped her hands together. “And your dreams boy. Got any dreams for me?” He shook his head no. He wasn’t about to tell her about the girl at school that came to him in his fantasies and tempted him with a golden apple. In a thin reedy voice she started to sing and rock, “You will know them by their dreams, first the pain and then the wings…” Just then Cabel heard his Paw’s voice “suppers on!” He looked at Granny. She waved him off and continued to sing, “The world has fared through darker things, I am the light saith the Lord.” And then Granny died. Rachel Mariah Spinner Carson gave her last sermon on the porch and passed peacefully in her rocker. A smile on her face. Cabel saw his Paw’s edge when Granny died. Whatever glimmer of light was there after momma died was completely snuffed out when Granny passed leaving a grey withered wick of a man to finish raising an impressionable young teen with aspirations and ideas. Yep. That was a bad year. His father became the goop he coughed and threw up most every night after work.  Cabel would come home from school to a dark house. Void of sound, life, and hope. Doing the wash came before supper and supper was scooped out of a can, heated up in an old dented pot then slopped onto plates for two.  That’s just how it was.  Until right after his 15th birthday.

Cabel was 15 when his father got sicker and spent more time at home than at work. And so good son Cabel began his career in the mines.  The trauma of having to leave school was not his alone. There were other boys whose services were necessary to help support their families. They got yanked too. The less studious boys didn’t seem to mind. But Cabel did. On his way out of the door on his last day of school he turned one more time to look at that globe he loved and daydreamed about. All of those countries, people, languages he was never going to visit or experience.  His flame was just beginning to grow and now it was being blown out by the one person who was supposed to want better for him.  He was just starting to have dreams about where he might live one day. Not Podunka Ridge. Or where he might work. Not the mines. A girl that he might marry. She had to be round.  And pious, but not like Granny. He would send his kids to Sunday school. No more porch preachin’ for future Carsons. He worked on his future while dealing with his present. His Paw needed him. He was dying and the company insurance man/doctor came around. Cabel watched him sign papers between bouts of hacking. He saw the look on the doc’s face when it happened. Almost like he was tryin’ to hurry the signing as if the very plague itself was sitting across from him. It made Cabel mad seeing his father treated that way. They wouldn’t treat him like that. NO SIR! He was gonna make his money then leave while he was still young enough to have a good life.

     Eustace Leon Carson was laid to rest in the company cemetery next to his wife, mother, father and great grandparents, in the company town over the very mines that took his life away.  Cabel pictured yellow fiery demons coming out of the uranium oxide to snatch the embalmed remnants of his family. Eye-balling him like they were waitin’.  He put down a handful of daisies, turned away and never went back to the cemetery again.

Back on the road he kept trying to think of good memories. No sense in being depressed if you were on your way to a better world. Focusing back on scenery whizzing by he brought his wrist up to check the time, out of habit, on the watch his Paw left him. All he saw was the white band of skin where the watch should be. He’d left it on the table cuz the time didn’t matter anymore. He sighed. Maybe it would have been okay to bring the watch after all.  There were some good times. The smell of Momma’s bread baking. The scent of his Paw’s cherry pipe tobacco smoke like a second skin on the walls and imbedded in the fibers of the furniture. And the sound of Granny’s rocking chair on the porch. Strange but he really missed it. Would she be disappointed in him? OH YES! She had made him feel important at one time. He felt like he had a purpose with her even though he wouldn’t be saving souls in Podunka Ridge. He was always too afraid to tell her he wanted to live somewhere else. And he was no soul walker. Maybe he had no soul. Hell he couldn’t even stand walking at all unless it was to the fridge for another beer or too stick his head in the freezer for a minute to cool off. He had watched a movie or two in his life about apocalyptic things. After Granny died of course.  No Devil box in the house while she lived.  He watched the road glancing every now and then at the cactuses and sage brush as he went by. Everything covered in dust and sand. Every drooping weak whatnot choked by the heat. Cabel got thirsty and rummaged blindly through his lunch box for his thermos. The he felt the thump. He only looked away for a second. “DAMMIT!” He said and put on the breaks. He got out and walked to the back of the car. He grimaced and put on hand on his hip and the other smoothing back his sweaty hair. It was a lamb. A damn lamb come out of nowhere. He cautiously stepped towards it as it lay bleating. He could feel his eyes start to burn as tears welled in them. He bent down over it. “Oh poor thing.” He said softly. He couldn’t see any blood anywhere. Maybe internal damage though. He went back to open the car door to the back seat then gently lifted the lamb and lay it on the back seat. It was alive but didn’t make a sound with all the jostling. This was not in the plan. Now he would have to stop somewhere and drop it off to someone who could take care of it. He started to drive again and began talking to the lamb. “Now look here lamb. I do not know where it is you come from but I swear I didn’t see you anywhere near me. Actually at all. This don’t make much sense you know. You should be with your momma or somewhere on a farm. Howe did you get all the way out here in FRONT OF MY CAR!” The lamb bleated softly.  He checked his gas gauge. In one quarter of a tank he would be out of gas. Which meant supper, then a bullet to the head.  He adjusted the rear view mirror so that he could see the lamb.  “You better hope that I find a station between now and empty little fellow.”

After several minutes he began to see something in the distance that might be a sign. He slowed down as he passed it reading aloud what he saw on the beaten up metal rectangle with a rusty halo around one corner.

“Zion Filling Station just up ahead 7 miles. 

If you’re empty and need some filling,

Then stop at Zion if you’re willing.

Well that’s a weird way of talking about gas.” He unfurrowed his brow, closed his mouth, shrugged and accelerated.  Finally he could unload his guest and get along. He pulled into the dusty old station. He hadn’t ever left Podunka Ridge but he knew what current gas pumps should look like and these pumps were definitely not anything recent. He turned the car off, got out and looked around, squinting as the sun hit his eyes.  “There cannot be anybody in this place. He walked up to the glass door of the store and could hear music. That was a good sign. He went back to the car, and gingerly lifted the lamb cradling it in his arms. It was still breathing. He looked in to its eyes and said, “You know Lamby this is for your own good.  I ain’t heading anywhere good and you deserve something better than being remembered as sizzling road kill.” Then the lamb did something remarkable.  And creepy.  It opened its little mouth and bleated out, “In the circle, from the flesh, glorious winged, your fate is blessed, go gather my souls and precious flock, I am the way, saith the Lord.”

The life he had lived had never prepared him for a talking lamb. When he was in school he had heard other kids, whose families owned televisions, talk about the talking lamb sock puppet thing, but he was pretty sure God wasn’t talking through someone’s hand up inside a TV puppet. Maybe it was a demon disguised as a lamb and it was using him to start the rapture. His pants began to feel wet and he was pretty sure he had soiled himself while trying to remain calm. It is amazing what the mind can make the body do when fear presents itself. Especially in the form of a cute fluffy delicate talking baby lamb. Cabel walked over to the store door and pushed it open.   A lady with short maroon hair and contact lenses to match smiled at him. She had pierced ears, pierced eyebrows, a pierced nose and one ball earring shoved through her tongue. He could see it because she was smacking her gum with her mouth open.  “You here for gas mister? Cuz there ain’t none you know.  Gas truck don’t come til Monday. You look real dusty. You drive or walk? You can put the lamb on the counter.” He stared blankly at her and uttered, “walked.” Then he started scratching his back. She stopped smacking her gum. “You alright? You need some water?”   He just stared and scratched. The store lady from his nightmare. Only this time he could understand what she was saying.  He put the lamb on the counter.  He could have just left it at that, walked out, drove away and done his business. But not Cabel. He would not be rude. “Excuse me ma’am but is there a room I may go to freshen up?” He was becoming more painfully aware that his khaki pants were indeed wet front to back and visible to anyone who would even glance in his direction. Thought it seemed that they were the only ones around, except for the lamb who was now standing up on the counter and drinking from a water bottle held by the lady from his nightmares.  She pointed and he turned in that direction to see an old wooden door with the words Rest Room painted above it. OH DAMN, he thought and starting shaking. The door from his….with the words that…and the blackness and the falling.  He tried to turn and run but when he turned back the lamb was gone and Granny was there behind the counter dancing with the pierced lady. They looked all crazy with their hands in the air singing and rocking.  Something compelled him to the rest room door and he put his hand on the knob. He looked back, tears in his eyes.  A cloud appeared between him and them and he was on the porch with Granny again. She was talking Bible speak, he recognized the books of *Matthew and John, her bony ancient finger wagging right at his nose about 6 inches away, “the hour cometh boy and you will lead the worshipers for he shall send his angels to gather together his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.” Then young Cabel shifted his eyes like he was looking straight at old Cabel, “check your blades boy. Make your choice soul walker. Lead them softly for ALL shall walk those falter, those that balk, the journey chosen, is the journey judged, I am the truth saith the Lord.” The cloud disappeared. Granny and Pierced lady stood there staring at him. Granny nodded.

When he was young he was sure he was going to take his place in the world and live a different life outside of the Ridge. Marry a round girl, have round kids, get round himself.  This morning when he packed his last supper and closed up the house he was sure he was going to end what he considered a life inadequately lived.  Granny tricked him. Tricked him all his life and NOW he had a choice? He wanted to be angry at her so bad but even now he was riddled with a healthy dose of fear if he didn’t make the right choice.  Too many emotions flooding his heart. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. If this was all real, and he was a Soul Walker like Granny prophesied, then why couldn’t he save his Momma from all that suffering and his Paw too? He couldn’t save his own family and now he was supposed to save millions? Something told him he could run if he wanted to. Yeah he could run. “Run Cabel.” The voice said. “Remember your plan Cabel. Glory flames.” One more glance at granny and he knew. He felt a tremendous release of every trial and tribulation in his mind and heart. He smiled at Granny. Then turned the knob and opened the door. He closed his eyes, stepped forward with his arms outstretched, and fell off the edge of whatever reality he had been living.

     When Cabel opened his eyes he was in some kind of mist. A dream. And he wasn’t alone. There were twelve others and together they all formed a circle. Men and women all staring at each other but no one speaking. A bolt of light shocked them all joining them to each other with a single stream. Like electricity. And that’s when the pain started. And there was a lot of pain. Everyone was stuck in place contorting with the pain but desperately trying to reach around themselves to their backs. Cabel felt like he was exploding from the inside. First the pain a lot of pain then a lot blood. Everything turning red. It felt like things were trying to escape out of his back, splitting his clothes like knives. A loud deep whipping whoosh sound covering his silent screams as the things protruded and expanded from his body. Then he opened his eyes and looked at his arms and hands. It was like he was covered in some kind of wet slimy film which dried very quickly. In his peripheral, large black feathery things were visible from both sides of his body. They were enormous wings and he understood they were part of his body, but he felt no heaviness from them. And he was amazed. He looked around at the others as they did the same. There were no questions, no fear, and no uncertainty. Faith and duty would carry them now.  They instinctively began to line up in two rows as a great divide opened up through the mist and a golden warm light shone through upon them. Cabel hesitated for a second to take it all in.  A female Soul Walker turned around, smiled and waved him to the line. She was a very nice looking girl in her partially human form. With kind eyes and a radiant smile. She turned back to the line and spread her wings gracefully. He gazed at her form from behind. A shapely round back side caught his stare and he took his place after her.

And Cabel saw that the roundness was good. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day of his new life away from Podunka Ridge.

A Fall and a Find:

The Apricot Man

     Once upon a time there was a man whose apricots were known to be the sweetest in all the land. He had many things, but what he wanted most was someone to share his life with. His heart was so full of love that he had enough to give to someone else. This is his story.

     Mandi lay in the grass looking up at the sky. It was dawn and a few stars were still blinking and staring down at him in the early light. The stars never ceased to amaze him. This was his favourite part of the day. Early morning, and most everything was still at some kind of peace in the country fields. If they weren’t, he could not hear them. He had five good acres and a nice house that he had inherited from his parents. His favourite acre was the one with the apricot trees. He remembered as a little boy the argument his parents has when his father wanted to plant apricots. His mother thought it was not a reasonable crop to grow where they lived. “It is too warm for these stone fruits.” She shook her finger. “My mother warned me you would be a dreamer. Marry a fisherman and you will always have fish for the sea is full. Marry a farmer and you will always pray for water. IF there is no rain we will be left with trees full of stones and no fruit.” His father would smile, hold his arms out and grab his mother and sing making her dance with him. Then she would laugh and he would laugh. Then Mandi would laugh. He noticed his father always did this when mother disagreed with him. He could not wait to be married like his parents. One day he too would grow apricots and have a wife. Now at the age of twenty eight he was not so sure it was the apricots that were magic and made his parents dance and laugh. They

were both gone and he had been orphaned for six years. They would not be there to help him find a wife.

     It was August and harvest time for the trees. He got up and went over to the very first tree he helped his father plant, caressing its bark. “Today I wish you will help me find a wife. I am lonely and getting older and no longer wish to be alone. I want to hear my children laughing and a woman singing in my kitchen. A girl who will appreciate this farm and work by my side. And a son to take care of you when I am gone. And I want to dance.” His large dark brown eyes looked up through the branches. And that’s when it happened. One second he was making a wish, the next he was rubbing his eye where an apricot fell and landed squarely on the unsuspecting socket. And it was painful. He looked back at the tree, one hand over the pulsating eye, the other raised up in an imploring manner. “WHY WHY WHY? What kind of answer is this? You must be a Jinn and not a Genie tree!” He reached down and picked up the apricot. “So you are the stubborn one? What lesson do I have from this except to not make silly wishes to an Apricot tree. Maybe my mother was right.” He rubbed his eye again and thought. He cocked his eyebrow and looked up into the tree again. “OR this could be the answer to my wish because you cannot speak you have sent this apricot as your emissary of love and good will. Then my father would be right.” He laughed and smiled scratching his head. ‘I am my father’s son after all.” He placed the apricot in his shirt pocket, grabbed his cart, and headed for an early day at the market.

     Eila and her mother Supriya had arrived early to shop blending in with the market crowd looking for bargains, fruits, and vegetables. Things that she and her mother would cook for supper tonight and the next day. It wasn’t that she hated shopping. She just hated shopping with her mother though she loved her dearly. Always following her like a puppy on a leash having to listen to her lectures about finding a husband. Eila would roll her eyes behind her mother’s back and try to distract herself with all the things going on around them. She tried to imagine what their lives were like. If they were happy and could you tell if they were happy by the looks on their faces at the market. At the train depot no one looked happy. The smell of oil, sweat, smoking tobacco and the screeching of wheels as the train came to a stop. Dust and grime blowing through your clothes and fighting for a place in your eyes, nose, and mouth if you weren’t covered up. Pushing and shoving all around searching for a single space to occupy for the moment. But the market was alive with different smells and sounds. Here the shoving and pushing was usually preceded or followed by an “excuse me’ or “pardon me.” The sellers smiled, the customers bargained, the hawkers louder than everyone else peddling their fares. So many elements to all of this shopping. And still all her mother would do is talk about marriage. She never seemed happy though. Always in a rush, always stressing about this and that. If this was marriage, Eila wanted a different kind of happy. She felt something hit her sandal and looked down. A small apricot. She picked it up. It’s downy skin warm and firm. She smiled. Such a beautiful shade of orange with red blushing here and there. This small fruit wanted to survive, she thought. To fight its fate of being eaten. Striving for whatever few minutes were to be allowed in its brief life. It would not succumb like the others by being trod or tripped upon. It had found the right sandal.

     Her mother poked her in the arm. “Eila what are you doing just there. Please keep up. We have no time to waste today. Put that thing back on the ground. It is probably filthy and bruised. Leave it for the birds or the street cleaners.” Her mother turned away and began to haggle with the saffron farmer. Eila shook her head. She had heard her father talking about the bumper saffron crop. The farmers received just enough rain to bless the lands. Too much rain and the bulbs would have been ruined. She knew the saffron seller could demand any amount he wanted and eventually her mother would pay after scolding him for his prices. The subliminal lesson of bargaining was not lost on her. One day she would be doing the same thing with her children tagging along rolling their eyes behind her back as well. She laughed out loud. She heard a man’s voice. “APRICOTS. SWEET APRICOTS!” She would return the fruit to its owner. Surely it belonged to that vendor. She walked toward the area where the voice came from. She stopped and waited for it again. “APRICOTS. SWEET APRICOTS!” She smiled. Such a nice voice too. She wondered what he looked like. He would be happy that an honest person was returning his

wayward produce. Several people moved and there he was! And very handsome too. Young.

With strong arms and a nice smile she quickly noticed.  She raised her arm, with the apricot in her hand. “Sir!” She called out. “Sir might this belong to you?” Mandi lowered the cart handles and twisted around. When he saw the woman calling out he smiled. She was very beautiful. Her caramel skin beautifully paired with her maize coloured sari. And her smile. Perfect white teeth surrounded by tender full lips. He shook his head and thought he should stop thinking and answer the young lady. She walked up to him holding out her hand with the apricot in it. “I believe this belongs to you Sir. It must have dropped from your cart.” She came closer to him. He set the cart down completely and reached out for her hand. “But it has found you. So it must be yours now. Please keep it. It is a gift from Mandi Farms. I have many more.” He bowed slightly breaking their eye contact. When he lifted his head to gaze at her again there was an older woman next to her. A hand on one healthy hip and the other holding a cloth shopping bag. He looked at the young lady again. And she did not look away. Eila felt a warm rush through her body. Her heart beat faster. It was as if everything around the two of them melted away. She was aware of other voices, noises, colours, shapes and movements, but only his voice and his body enveloped her senses.

     “Bring me your apricots.” She blurted out before her brain could stop her. Suddenly the moment became awkward. This was such a new sensation she was feeling. She didn’t quite know where to go from here. What were the right words to say? Was she looking or sounding too forward? That is when her mother helped her by pinching her upper arm. She flinched. “I

will bring you all of the blossoms.”  He smiled and opened his hands, palms facing up, gesturing towards her. His smile radiant and warm.

     “Eila. Eila? Are you listening to me?” Eila’s mother gripped her daughter by the shoulder. “Have you lost your focus? Please girl pay attention. We need to run along now.” Supriya rolled her eyes, let out a forced breath of disapproval, and gave the young man the stink eye. He simply smiled at her and said, “Good day to you Madam. May the rain we are about to share drop gently on your heart and hearth. God is good.” He grabbed a hold of his fruit cart and handles and was soon lost in the crowd. Eila could hear “APRICOTS. SWEET APRICOTS!” floating in and around everybody and everything. She must hear his voice again. She knew at that moment, other voices would never do for her. Eila could only smile. Her mother jerked her by the elbow and pulled her towards home just as the rain started. Eila felt the rain fall on her head and face and pictured him in every drop anointing her skin and hair. Even her mother’s constant nagging and scolding was like a faraway voice. She just smiled and nodded. That was easier. Then she wondered if anything would ever be easier again.

     Back at his farm before dusk, Mandi could not eat his supper. He ran to the tree and hugged it

then stepped back. “Her name is Eila. And she is beautiful. I would like to thank you for this blessing. If it is meant to be I will see her again. God is very good.” He slept very well that night. And dreamed. Eila was in the dream. She had a small child at the end of her hand with eyes like

his. They were laughing and dancing together.

     That night as she helped her mother prepare samosas for frying Eila asked her mother what her marriage was like. She was aware of the arrangements involved and the preparations. She had experienced that first hand with her brother’s wedding. What she was looking for was the plans they had for her. Now that the subject of marriage was becoming a regular one, Eila was curious about her mother’s thoughts. Her father worked at a government office as a clerk. He was respected and able to take good care of his family. Eila’s older brother was already married with one child born and another on the way. He and his wife were a good match. She watched her mother at the stove wondering how she should ask. She straightened up in her chair, hands nervous and folded under the table, on her lap. “Mother may I ask you something?” “Sure sure.” Her mother answered without turning around.

     “What was it like when you married father?” He mother answered, “It was strange at first. Well, we were strangers to each other, our families from different villages know. But a good arrangement for all now that I look back. And we liked each other from the first meeting. We

knew it would be okay to proceed. My mother made a good choice for me and I bless her memory everyday for the wisdom she had. Why are you asking? You must be thinking about what I want for you. Am I right?”  Her mother turned around and smiled. Eila was taken by surprise. She wouldn’t have to beat around the bush now. This also made her a little uneasy. Surely her parents would never let her marry someone without an office job. She unclenched her

hands and placed them on the table to resume chopping the potatoes. “Well yes since you have mentioned it.” Her mother wiped her hands in a dish cloth and sat down opposite her. “I will tell you that I want you to be happy as I am happy with your father. We have grown happy together. It was not always easy but we are good together. As for you, and as your mother I must see that you have a suitable arrangement with a good man who will take care of you.” Eila had expected this response. She questioned further. “But Mommy what kind of job should he have? Should he be an educated man like college, or smart in other ways? Tall, short, all of his teeth? What if you have to choose between a very smart farmer, and a dimwitted clerk? I cannot be happy with a dull man.” Supriya laughed as she stood. “Please Eila. You are so dramatic. If a dull man can keep a nice roof over your head and see that you are taken care of you must make him laugh and keep the home lively. A farmer is only as smart as the yield of his crops and cannot control the weather which can affect the amount of food on your table. You cannot feed children with hope of a good crop, but you can feed them with a steady pay check.” Supriya laughed again as she returned to the stove. “You will see everything has a way of working out. Count your blessings and hurry up with those potatoes.”  Eila began to chop to the beat of Man-di, Man-di. Man-di. “Mother would you have any recipes for apricots that I can learn. You know if I am to be a good wife it will show in my cooking skills which will be a direct reflection of your cooking skills.” She cringed and did not look up. She didn’t want to see the wooden spoon that would smack her head. Instead all she heard was laughter. “Silly child do you honestly think I would marry you off to a man with bad teeth? I would certainly make sure he could afford dentures before your first meeting.” Supriya smiled. “And you thought I had absolutely no sense of humor.” Eila smiled and laughed. “Oh mother thank God you are teasing. You had me seriously worried.”

     The next day Eila went around asking if anyone needed anything from the market. She carried the coveted apricot from Mandi in her basket. She went to several family friends inquiring if she might go to the market for them. She went to her mother’s sister’s house. “Auntie. Auntie are you home? I am going to the market do you need anything? I hear the apricots are especially sweet right now.” She knocked on the door several times before it opened. “No Eila nothing today. SSHH!” She put her finger to her lips and whispered. “Your Uncle is sleeping. If you wake him I will not be able to enjoy my tea.” She smiled and raised her eyebrows then quietly closed the door. Eila was getting desperate. She had been turned down by everyone she thought she could turn to. Could they not see how important it was to have sweet apricots on the table? She was feeling like she might never see the apricot man again. She felt a tug and looked down. A small dirty child, one hand behind her back, the other on Eila’s sari. “Well hello little one. What is your name?” The child said nothing but pointed a finger at her own mouth. Eila bent down, “Are you hungry? Where is your other hand?” The little girl looked down then pointed to her own mouth again. Eila took Mandi’s apricot from her basket and held it out. “Here you are my dear. The little girl reached out and took the apricot then turned and walked away. Eila could see her other arm and handed were withered. The girl touched something in her and made her think. The beauty of the apricot and what it meant to her was also meant to be shared with others. It had fed her heart and now it would feed this child’s body. For a moment she had forgotten why she had been on such a frenzy for herself. She took a deep breath and looked around. The child had disappeared. She looked into the empty basket. “All good things as they should be.” She thanked God for the morning and went home.

     When she arrived she saw her mother and father sitting at the table. Both smiling. She cautiously smiled back. “Mother, Father is everything okay?” Her parents looked at each other. Her father tapped on the table near an empty chair. Eila sat down, putting the basket on the floor. Her mother reached over to take her hand. “My daughter your father and I have the most wonderful news.” Her father, who was the quiet one spoke. He cleared his throat. “My associate at the office, Vinesh has recently told me of a nephew of his. His dear seventh Sister’s son, though she has passed. He is a landowner and a very successful biologist. He studied at University and his future is very bright. He is older and owns his home as well as the land but no wife and no children. I think it is a good idea that we meet this young man Eila In two weeks time we will invite Vinesh, his wife, and nephew to our home.” He nodded and stood up. “I am going down the street now.” He kissed his wife on the forehead and left. Supriya looked over at Eila who looked as if she was in shock. Her face had not changed since she sat down. Her mother got up. “I will make tea and we will talk about a new sari for you.” She put her hand on

her daughter’s shoulder as she went by.

      Eila felt like something had broken inside. She couldn’t tell if it was her spirit, her heart, or both. She must have been wrong about the Apricot Man. But her feelings weren’t wrong. She knew he felt something too. In that brief encounter they were of one mind. She wanted to scream, run, and cry. But she respected her parents too much to act that way towards them. They thought they were doing their best for her. Maybe this nephew with no name would think her too skinny, or ugly. Maybe he had someone else he pined for and would reject her. Then she could convince her mother and father to consider another suitable match. She would have to work very quickly. She only had two weeks to try and gently dissuade her parents from this arrangement. Her mother returned from the kitchen with two for two. “Now I know this comes as a great surprise, as it does for all of us even though we know it will eventually come. But Vinesh comes

from a good family and we trust him that his nephew might be a suitable match for you. Not some silly market boy.” She wagged her finger at Eila. “And don’t think we did not find out you were trying to get to the market to buy apricots for the neighbours. Of course they came here straight away. Wanting to know if you had gotten a job selling apricots for someone. Really Eila. It would be best for you to just relax and let your father and I worry about these important decisions. Believe me, when you do get married your days will be full of things you must decide on. Okay? Besides, if I let you walk through the market on your own I can guarantee you would fall in love with the saffron farmer, the silk seller, and the man that repairs leather shoes.” There

are many fisherman on the sea my girl and many nets to scoop you up. That’s why we are here to guide you to the right boat.” Eila smiled weakly. Part of her understood her parent’s position and her duty as a daughter; however, her heart beat strongly for the lovely man at the market and she wondered how she could possibly bury her first feelings for a man. “Mother what should I feel now? What feelings am I to have for a stranger when I know my heart wants to be somewhere else?” Her mother shook her head. “I will only tell you that I understand how confused you must feel right now. We would never force you to marry someone you could not feel good about. We are not barbarians. It is alright to be scared. But that will go away and you will survive and live to raise a family, get old, make tea, and have this same conversation with your daughter when it is her time. It has always been this way. If this process didn’t work, do you think this country would have so many people in it?”

     Some time went by. Mandi had been to the market everyday looking for Eila. Several times he thought he saw her or her mother but it was not to be. He set about his day cleaning his house. He was having a special dinner with his mother’s family today. A birth celebration or something for one of his many nieces. Since his parents had passed he didn’t spend as much time visiting as he used to growing up. He made up a special basket of apricots, blossoms, and other dried fruits for the party. He looked in the mirror to make sure he was presentable. Fingernails clean, hair clean, clothes pressed. Being a bachelor for all of these years made him very self sufficient. He was proud of that. He tried to imagine what a wife could do for him that he could not do himself but he could not think of any chores or tasks that were exceptional The only remaining thought was having a family of his own. THAT he could NOT do by himself. He was a successful farmer with his own house and land. He thought he was smart. Well read and educated. He would make a fine husband. A good father. And he would never marry a mean or bossy girl. She had to be sweet. Like his apricots. Like the girl Eila from the market. He was sad to think he may never find her again. There were so many people he may never see her again. There were lots of pretty girls but it was her smile that had stayed in his heart and in his dreams. He dearly wished his parents were alive to help him. His mother would have known the right girl from the start. Maybe he would just be the old unmarried uncle bearing gifts and sweets at all the parties and weddings. But who would carry on the farm after him? He would have to leave it to his mother’s only brother. Maybe he could start training one of his sons to take care of the land.

The way things were changing with this generation no telling what their futures would be like. But he knew one thing. Farming and taking care of the land would always be an honourable profession in good times and bad. After all, he helped to feed the world and make pretty girls roaming the markets, smile. It was a very good job.

     Eila had spent the morning making samosas and sauces and other delicacies with her mother for the introduction dinner. The house was full of delicious spicy aromas of ginger, chilies, turmeric, garam masala and basmati rice. Eila’s senses were very much alive with the entire bustle. Her mother and Aunt rushing around making everything perfect. Yes, she knew it was a

big deal for them. Yes she wore the beautifully embroidered orange sari with golden thread in the trim, her mother and Aunt had picked out for her. She smiled in the mirror. Practicing. She would have to smile all afternoon for strangers. And be pleasant. At least she and this mysterious man would have some time to get to know each other. Her father and Uncle had set up a private room with a wall and a chair on each side. They would not see each other but they could still talk. Her parents thought it would be a good test for them to not judge each other based on physical appearance. “A good marriage must start beneath the skin,” her father said, “and it worked for your brother.” He was right. Eila’s brother and his wife were very happy. She would not argue with him.

     When Mandi arrived at his uncles house there were children running everywhere. Laughter and music filled the house. He had to hold the basket high up in the air as they ran around so it would not get dropped. He kissed his Aunt on the cheek and gave her the basket. His Uncle and the other men were out back. There was so much food everywhere. He grabbed a bite here and there while making the round of greetings with the women then headed out to join the men. His cheeks red from all the pinching. He never understood why pinching someone’s cheeks was a good thing. But his Aunts loved him very much and he guessed pinching was their way of showing him. Everyone was in good spirits. About an hour later, after catching up on family news, births, weddings, and deaths Mandi’s Uncle pulled him aside. “There is something I must tell you and I hope you will be as happy as we are.” By this time his Uncle’s wife was next to him. She was smiling. He raised his eyebrows. “You both look too happy. What news do you

have?” His Uncle and Aunt exchanged glances. “We both know how hard it has been for you since your parents died and, well, we thought we could help you with something important like, finding a wife.” Mandi smiled. “A wife?” He repeated. His Aunt could barely contain herself. “And we have found someone special. Such a beautiful girl you know. A good family. Vinesh works with her father. We have been invited to dinner for an introduction. That’s why we wanted the basket to present to the family. Aren’t you excited? We have to leave for there right now.” She grabbed his sleeve and pinched his cheek. “Today is a lucky day for you nephew. I’ll get my purse.” Mandi was stunned. He looked bewildered at his uncle. “But why Uncle, I thought it was a birthday party.” His Uncle laughed. “Sure. Sure it is. Your birthday. Today you are reborn a groom. Believe me it will be a blessing. You will see. Your mother would have wanted this for you. I know it.” He followed his Aunt and Uncle to two cycle rickshaws waiting out front. His Aunt carried the basket. The ride there was giving Mandi too much time to think. He was a grown man. But his Uncle and Aunt were right. It was time. And he knew he could back out if things were not going well. Still he wanted to show his family his gratitude for their thoughtfulness on his part. He knew they meant well. He would do this for them. His thoughts flew to his market girl. It was a sweet dream, he thought.

     Eila heard a bell ring outside of their home. She ran to find her mother. “Mother I think they are here.” Her mother nodded to her father. She looked back at Eila and smiled. :”Now go to your room and wait until I come for you. And try not to sweat too much. And Eila?” Eila

answered, “Yes mother.” Supriya kissed her daughter on the cheeks. You look absolutely radiant today.” Eila smiled and hugged her mother then ran to her room. Her parents went to the door and opened it to receive their guests. Mandi walked in behind his Aunt and Uncle. He greeted Eila’s father and then her mother, handing her the basket of apricots. He paused for one second. She looked so very familiar. Supriya took the basket from him. “Welcome to our home please make your self comfortable. And thank you for such a lovely basket. I hear the apricots from your farm are the sweetest around. My daughter loves apricots.” She walked away before he had a second thought about any familiarity. Once they were all seated Eila’s father discussed how the introduction was going to go. Mandi liked the idea of not being able to see her at first. He scoured the walls for any pictures of her but could find none. It would make the rejection easier if they did not know what the other looked like. They had tea and small pastries while discussing general things. Eila tried to listen through the door but to no avail. He mother had place a fan close by to cover any voices.

     When her father stood up he asked Mandi to wait in the room with the wall. He became nervous looking at their faces. They were smiling way too much. He was to sit next to the window so they could not see each other sitting or entering. His fruit basket was on a small table behind his chair.  Eila heard the knock on the door. Her hands started to sweat. This was it. What if he had a terrible voice? What if he smelled funny? Just how much older was he. Her mother never said. Did he have many wrinkles? Was he bald? Another knock. She heard her mother’s voice whispering, “Eila come out here right now. We are waiting. He is waiting.” Eila opened the door slowly trying to maintain her composure. Her mother led her into the parlour to greet Mandi’s Aunt and Uncle then her father led her to the room and to her chair. He kissed her on her forehead and smiled then left. He rejoined the others. They whispered “congratulations” to each other and toasted with their tea cups. “I think he almost recognized me.” Supriya said. “That was a close one.”

     Eila wrung her hands, looking around on her side of the room. She could smell flowers. A beautiful sweet smell. Well, at least he was kind enough to smell good for her. She heard him clear his throat. “Hello? My name is Mandeep but most everyone calls me Mandi. Your mother tells me love like apricots very much.” He did not know what else to say. She smiled. His voice sounded young, not old like she had imagined. “They are very good for you. We are lucky in this region to have such a well stocked marketplace. Have you been there?” She rolled her eyes. He nodded. “Oh yes. Most everyday. I have a farm not too far from here. Sometimes I sell at the market. Sometimes my crops are used as a classroom for University students. Plant biology and genetics.” He put his hands up to his face and shook his head. TOO MUCH! What are you saying! He thought to himself. Surely he was boring her. Her eyes were wide and her moth open. She had none of those accomplishments. She could feel the rejection coming on. He would grow bored of her quickly. She had to think of something. She bit her lip, wrung her hands. LIE! She told herself. Anyway this was a trial meeting. They were not bound in any way. He would soon leave and forget her. “Oh I see.” She said. “I am quite fond of apricots especially. I am in the process of creating some delicious recipes for a cookbook with them. We have the sweetest ones right here you know.” She put her nose up in the air. She might as well play the part while it lasted. She continued. “I am quite sure the cookbook will be very successful you know. I get my apricots from a special seller here. I only buy from him.” Mandi smiled. He was remembering his beautiful Eila from the market again. “Ahh. Apricots. Sweet apricots. I grow them myself. From an orchard my father and I planted when I was young. I did not know I had competition. You are very fortunate to be so well connected with your seller. And he fortunate as well to have such a talented cook buy his fruits. You have not told me your name.” Eila froze in her chair. That voice. And those words. It couldn’t be. Her heart was pounding and her mouth getting dry. She felt excited and sick all at the same time. This next move could either be her dream come true or an embarrassing disaster. “Bring me your apricots.” There she said it. She waited. If it was her Apricot man surely he would know what comes next. She heard something hit the floor and roll. She watched the floor as an apricot rolled in front of her. Then he spoke.  “I will bring you all of the blossoms.” He smiled and opened his hands, palms facing up with blossoms in them from the basket. He got up and walked around the wall. IT WAS HIM! She stood. Her heart felt full and she blushed. “Hello. My name is Eila.” She smiled so hard she felt her face would break. He looked at her with adoring eyes. Wishes did come true and dreams could be real. His was standing in front of him. “I would say our second introduction was successful. I

believe we may proceed with an engagement if you are willing.” It took everything she had to stop herself from jumping into his arms to kiss him. She didn’t even know how to kiss, but she knew she wanted to start as soon as possible. She ran out of the room to her mother, tears in her eyes. “You knew. All this time you knew. Her mother was on the verge of crying herself. “It turns out Vinesh was always selling apricots at work from his nephew’s farm and when I told you father about the incident at the market, well, we both knew it was right. That everything was as it should be for the two of you. Not to mention your father has grown quite fond of these apricots so now we will get them for free yes?” She smiled and looked at Mandi who had entered the room. He hugged his Uncle tightly and shook his future father-in-laws hand. “Sir it would be my privilege and my honour to have your daughter as my wife if you will give us your blessing.”

     Mandi and Eila were married the next spring. The wedding celebration lasted three days and people from all over the region stopped by to bless them and enjoy their wedding feast. Nine months later they welcomed a beautiful baby boy. And yes they most certainly lived happily ever after and danced for many years under the apricot trees, as did their children. Their love story became a legend and inspired ballads and poems. When they passed away their grandchildren built a shrine next to the very first apricot tree that Mandi had planted with his father those many years ago and people from all over the world visited to leave blossoms and blessings. The end.