Reaping of the Wives

STAY FOCUSED

White burst through the inky black of my mind like a blinding sunbreak upon the awakening of my consciousness. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting myself ease right back into the all encompassing silence.

"Grace? Oh, Grace, please wake up. Please say something!"

The muffled voice sounded soft like a gentle lullaby, but sorrowful. It made me want to pull myself out of the comfortable hole I had fallen into just to ease them.

"Grace Evangeline Matthews!"

The sudden urgency pricked at my senses and a groan left my lips as my hands moved to rub my face.

"What?" I croaked. My voice sounded as scratchy as it felt.

"Oh thank God," Ava cried. "I thought you were dead!"

I gave a slight shake of my head, not understanding how or why she'd jump to that conclusion. "What? Why would you think that?"

"Because of what Caleb said. Oh, Grace what has Noah done?"

Rubbing my forehead, I tried to remember what Caleb said or what Noah could have done, but there was nothing but a void where coherent thoughts should be. "What are you.. what do you mean?"

"I mean the gift? What gift did Noah give you that could potentially cost you your life?"

Like a freight train, the memory hit me. Flooded my brain, overwhelming my senses as the chill of it sent ice into my veins making my hands tremble again.

"M-my paint," I mumbled, breathless.

"Your what?" Cami asked.

"Paint. He.. he gave me paint. He let me paint the wall."

There was a long silence as they processed the oddity.

Ava asked in a soft voice, "What did you paint?"

I took a deep breath and let my eyes adjust to the overhead lighting. Colors initially blurred together began to slowly take form.

"A window. The sun. A painted bunting in mid-flight. There's a tree, grass and sky. A flower for every day we've been here." I rolled over to better face the mural. "My favorite is my moon. It's marred with deep, dark craters, but it's bright. It's sure of itself even in the midst of the darkness that surrounds it.. it's forever full of hope, like me. My moon is still full."

Sniffles indicated the tears Ava fought to hold in. Her voice broke when she asked, "Paint something for me. Please?"

All of the paints were still discarded in a heap on the floor and I slowly rose from the bed, making my way toward the mess. I had been wanting to paint something that made me think of her, and the perfect symbol finally came to me.

"I know just the thing," I smiled and grabbed several earth tone paints.

I approached a tree I had painted a few weeks back; its gnarly trunk was arduous and crude, but with its deeply woven roots, it was a formidable pillar of strength. In my mind, it was the embodiment of Camilla. I began working on an area in the center of the tree.

"I often wish I could have met you girls before this," I sighed at the sad thought, making small strokes of black in an oval shape. "Even though we don't know each other, I feel like I know enough. So, within the tree that I painted for Ca.. um, within the tree, I'm making a nesting cavity. Within that nest, I'll be painting you an owl, because you are wise beyond your years Ava Natasha Martinez."

"Thank you, Grace."

Despite the sadness of her tearful voice, I felt my smile grow wider than it had in weeks, only to have a rogue thought still my hand.