Aĉaĵego

XV: Prayer

The temple was busy this time of day. The voices performing ritualistic prayers mingled with the wind chimes whose sounds were interpreted by priests to predict the holder's future. A baby was crying; a man was discussing wedding plans with a priest, an old woman was giving spare change to a beggar. And in the garden behind a fence, children laughed and shrieked as they played a chasing game. Karesema watched from outside the fence.

Jadinda used to run straight towards Karesema as soon as the children's outside time began. This time, she waited for the game to finish before she went to greet her. "Hi, Franjo! Today in class we all got to tell an angel story!" said Jadinda, with a mischievous grin. "Guess what I told?"

"Something about Floreca?" Karesema said, returning Jadinda's smile conspiratorially.

Jadinda released a laugh that she had clearly been trying to withhold until after she told the story. "I told them about the time Franjo Floreca was trying to climb the neighbors' trees to steal the avocados on top, but got stuck and had to call the neighbors she was stealing from to ask for help."

Karesema laughed. "And what did the nuns have to say about that?"

"They told me I could tell angel stories about her if I wanted, but it had to be after she was an actual angel, and I had to call her Dresinto, not Franjo Floreca."

"...I see," said Karesema. A cloud of bitterness fell over her, though she tried to brush it away. Jadinda would pick up on it, and Karesema didn't want her to feel bad. Karesema was the one who asked the question. It had been a stupid question.

Jadinda looked at Karesema tentatively for a minute, then said, "Franjo, guess what? Pastrino Afablulino said that, next time, before you go up the mountain to see Fran- I mean, the next time you go up the mountain to see Dresinto, you might be allowed to take me with you. She said that maybe I'd be able to learn a new angel story from her."

"Really?" she asked. "Well, then, I...." Her voice trailed off. She looked at Jadinda, Jadinda who was still so young and innocent, Jadinda who was still too young to know she would be essentially sold to the highest bidder once she reached marrying age, too young to realize she was being taught not to love her own sister. Fran – I mean, Dresinto, she'd said, unready to shake her connection with Floreca; not unwilling to try. Because that was what she was taught to do, because that was how these people lived with themselves, how they justified their compliance with a tyrant's orders to allow the innocent young girl to live a miserable life. They renamed her, they redefined her, they put her on a pedestal she couldn't get down from, and wouldn't want to until it was too late. And then they sent her toys and medicine and put her out of their minds, telling themselves they had sacrificed for her.

Jadinda said, "Well, what?" and Karesema couldn't speak; she couldn't stand the idea of allowing Jadinda near something as monstrous as the Aĉaĵego, but she also wanted to take any chance she could get to get her away from these people; who were no less monstrous.

And besides, if Jadinda could see that Floreca was still human and; more importantly, that she was still Floreca and no one had any right to say otherwise, the priests would not be able to shake her with their lies.

"The priests just gave me another dose of medicine to take her," said Karesema. "We'll go tomorrow."

"Oh, hurray! I'm so excited, Franjo!" She squeezed Karesema tight and then broke off to share the news with her friends, who broke into excited chatter of their own.

I won't let her forget you, Karesema thought, with all the intensity of a prayer, as she looked at the mountain in the distance.