Nezushi House Spirit

Stormy nights

The thundered sound. Sitting out on the porch he listened to it. The sky was dark, grey clouds rolling overhead. It was beautiful how they shifted from the pearl white to soft grey to the darker grey, but now...

A slow smile slipped over the thin pink lips. The darkness deepened even though it was only a bit after midday. The clouds gave way the grey blending into the deep dark black of the thunderheads. The wind was picking up.

It tore at the trees. Leaves scattered around what was left of the yard. It was far from being anywhere near acceptable. Yet, there was little he could do. Pulling one knee up, he counted the seconds. Barely reaching three before the stark blast of the golden white light split the sky open. He loved this game.

What was to come wasn't the best, but he dealt with it. Right now he could enjoy the breeze as it played with the wisps of white hair on his head. It tickled his scalp a bit how wicked and strong it was. He didn't dare stand up just yet. There was another crack. This wasn't thunder.

He frowned as he leaned out from under the porch roof. His red eyes scanned the area. A shifting sound, then the final creek. He saw it. The branch on a tree about three yards to his right. It broke under the weight of the wind. Watching it, he saw it bounce, tearing at the branches under it. More leaves cascaded off into the wind. It was as if a flurry of fairies suddenly took flight. The leaves were a rainbow of autumn colors.

The branch slipped past its last hope of remaining on the tree. In a poof of leaves and dirt, it hit the floor of the forest. He watched as it settled there, another thing to add to his yard. He turned away as the crack of thunder drowned out nearly everything around him. The rain was going to start soon.

He wished to remain outside for it, yet he would have to check somethings. He stood up, turning his back on the growing storm. Making his way past the door that barely hung on its hinges any more, he slipped into the dark interior. Having been born here, living here all his life, he knew the map of the house.

It was easy to float from room to room without any light. This is what he did day after day. He haunted the rooms here. It wasn't all bad. From time to time he would get visitors. None really stayed long. Not like it used to be. He allowed himself to devolve back in time.

When he was younger people used to come here all the time. His parents would laugh, dance with the guests. It appeared life was a party. They boats never stopped bringing outsiders to the island. The colors of their clothing brightened up even the gloomiest of days. It didn't account for the hair. Red, blond, purple, blue! He had loved it all.

He was skilled at braiding long flowing hair. Often he would weave flowers in it for the women, or colored ribbons if they chose. They loved to have pieces of the ribbon longer than their hair so that when the twirled it would flutter around their heads like dancing rainbows. He had loved to see them, thrilled with his work.

The women loved his pale white skin. They often asked for him to paint a streak around their body similar to the one that wrapped like a ribbon around his. He had found acceptance with them. His glowing red eyes didn't frighten them, instead they marveled at how brilliantly bright they shined when he laughed. He never felt ashamed but the way he looked.

The men preferred darker colors of ribbon. He would often find white baby's breath to weave into their darker hair as well. The contrast was stunning. Some liked thin leather straps. It didn't matter to him, he loved it all. His hands would work almost non stop in those days. The sunny happy days.

Whenever he thought back to that time, he couldn't help but to smile. It had been such a glorious way to begin his long life. He had enjoyed it. But then changes came. The boats slowly stopped coming. Their numbers thinning over the years. He had to find work for his hands as those that came didn't always want to dance any longer.