Luke and Mommy Under Caladessa's Spell

The sun set as we trotted home from the market. The darkening sky made my mom's skin glow orange in the light of our lamp. "I saw the most beautiful dress today," she said, "for you."

I looked at her, surprised. My mom spent all day every day growing and harvesting her crops, and very little time making me pretty things to wear.

"Where?" I asked.

A smile crept onto her face. "You know that old lady who lives on the edge of town? With all those cats?"

My eyes lit up. Grandma Bessie! She had a corner of her house where she gave away scraps of cloth to people who visited, and she was always so excited to give some to my mom. "What did you get?" I whispered with glee.

"Shhh!" my mom said, looking around nervously. Then she dug into the folds of her dress and pulled out a long strip of purple fabric, with a little silver embellishment along one end. "It's for your hair," she said. "I'll make you a coronet."

"Oh my god," I breathed, taking it from her hand and holding it up to my face to smell it. It smelled like Grandma Bessie's house - old lady perfume and cat pee - but it was worth it. "Thank you." I flung my arms around her neck and squeezed tight. I forgot sometimes how good Mom could smell when she washed herself properly.

As we approached our house, a figure stepped out of the darkness at the edge of the road: a man wearing an ancient-looking tunic over his pants, with a large leather belt around his hips instead of the more modern waistcoat design that everyone else wore these days. He carried a torch in his hand, which illuminated his face; under his scruffy beard I recognized him as Old Man Thomas from down the road, who lived by himself except for the little herd of goats he kept in his yard. He looked at us both as we approached, then turned and walked quickly in the direction we'd just come from - toward town square, where all the houses clustered together because there were no large trees nearby to use for building materials. There were other small farms out further from town, but only one main road that wound through them all on its way back here to where I lived with Mom and Dad (or Granpa Eddy as everyone called him).

When we passed Old Man Thomas again on our way back out to see Granpa Eddy later that night, he didn't look at us - but he turned his head as far as he could without losing sight of us, watching intently until we were out of view behind a bend in the road ahead of him.

* * *

Granpa Eddy laughed mischievously when Mom showed him the new fabric and explained what she wanted to do with it; he promised to help her construct something that would fit around my head once she was done sewing it into shape after cutting it into pieces first (to make sure it stayed round).

They started talking about ideas for what else I might wear - shoes or boots? A glove for each hand? A collar? Should they add sleeves? Would that look nice? Which color should they choose for any accents if they did decide to put sleeves on it? Eventually Granpa got tired and left us alone in the kitchen while he retired to bed; Mom continued planning until way past midnight before deciding she needed sleep herself or she wouldn't be able to do anything tomorrow if she was too tired.

The next morning Mom finished sewing my coronet together while Granpa visited with Eddy; then we ate breakfast together before heading off again toward town square so Mom could show Old Man Thomas what she'd made so far on my fancy new piece of clothing (which turned out not to be called a coronet after all). He took it when she handed it over to him politely enough - but when he looked up at me smilingly after thanking Mom for bringing it over for him, his eyes narrowed slightly and his smile faltered for only a moment before returning full force once more - though now tinged with something more like disgust than excitement over seeing me dressed so strangely by their ancient standards.