Numen's Revenge

"Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky," Grampie stared ahead into the fire as he spoke. His voice was soft, solemn, mournful. "The land was happy and so were we."

I watched as he poked a stick in the ashes. He shook his head, shrugged, and stood up. "Look, Thea, look to the sky, all you need to know is there. She has the answers."

I nodded and rolled my eyes inwardly. I didn't even want to be here. It wasn't my idea to sit out in the middle of nowhere for an entire summer with my grandparents.

I had plans, big plans, at home. I was turning 16 in July. There were pool parties, beach days, shopping trips, all sorts of things I was missing just because Mom got some crazy idea in her head that I needed to "connect with my roots."

I didn't ask to connect with anything. I didn't get a vote. I knew, in a vague kind of way that my ancestors were supposedly Potentate, rulers of the Earth a long, long time ago. I heard all the stories.

I have a necklace, a hunk of blue stuff Mom calls the Rock of Truth and Courage on a leather strap. I wear it every day, not because I care or believe in any of it, but because it looks really cool.

And now, I'm stuck here for 11 weeks with old people I hardly know.

I've seen Grampie maybe twice in my life. I remember the last time. I was about 6, maybe 7. He came to the city to stay with us for a few days. He complained for 2 days straight and left. The air smelled wrong. The trees looked wrong. The food tasted wrong. You name it, he said it was wrong.

Yet, here I am stuck with the former king and queen of the Potentate, sleeping on the floor in a small 3-room shack. Yeah, that sure sounds like royalty to me...NOT!

Like I give a crap about purple clouds and all this other imaginary stuff. As far as I'm concerned, it's all just a bunch of ramblings of old people who are pissed the world isn't theirs anymore.

Of course, I can't say that. So I play along, "I think I saw a purple cloud last night, Grampie," I smile sweetly hoping he'll shut up.

He crouched beside me, right beside me, "No child, you didn't. There hasn't been a purple cloud since before you were born, since before your mother was born."

"Why not?" I asked doing my best to pretend to care. The way I saw it, I'm already in prison, maybe if I act right I can get out of here early with good behaviour. Ches Abital was going to be at all those parties back home. They're gorgeous! Tall, athletic, with golden blonde hair and the most penetrating blue eyes.

Even better, they're smart and funny and they were just beginning to notice me before I was shipped off to "The Land Of Purple Clouds." Oh, did I mention rich?. Yeah, Ches is rich too, their dad owns everything in the state!

"Nevermind," Grampie mumbled as he walked away from me, "you're not ready."

Fine, whatever. I let him walk away. It's not like I cared. Seriously, boo hoo, land is sad. I know, I know. I know about pollution. I know all about the ozone layer and landfills.

I do my part. I never, ever shop without a reusable bag. I try to eat organic most of the time. I don't need the lecture, you know. Especially from an old man who helped get us into this mess.

"Goodnight, child," he called back, "don't stay out here too late, it gets cold."

I waved back at him and sat there. The fire was warm, comforting even. It made me happy. Well, as happy as I could be out here. And being able to see the lake and hear the crickets was nice. I looked at my watch, it was 11:58 pm.

I lay back on the grass, looking up at the sky. I stretched and looked at the stars. I thought about home and I thought about Chas. I wonder what they'd think about this place.

It looked like it was starting to cloud over. Grampie did say there'd be rain tomorrow. Soft grey clouds slowly erased the stars.

I watched them drift as I let my mind wander. Then I saw it. On the bigger wisp moving across the night sky, the slightest hint of purple, just under the weight of the grey. It was light, almost lavender.

I screamed, "Grampie, Grampie, come quick!" I wasn't scared, I just wanted him to see.

He ran to me, bending over to catch his breath. I suppose it wasn't wise to make an 86-year-old man run, but boy, he sure moved fast!

"What is it, child?" he exclaimed between gasps.

"Look," I pointed toward the sky. I was sitting up by this time. "Look, purple!"

He looked up, put his arm around me, and squeezed, "Not purple, but close, very light." He turned me to face him, his dark eyes wide, "do you know what this means?"

"That the purple clouds are back?" I said flatly. Pretty obvious, right?

"No, not back, that is not purple," he suddenly became animated, excited, "It means that it's you! You are the one, THE ONE!"

"The one what?"

"This is a sign," he gasped, looking toward the sky and back at me in a weird, almost referential way, "Madame Numen is looking to you to right my wrongs."

"What?"

He continued, I have much to tell you, child, come with me."