I May Be A Fool

In the beginning there was noise. A bunch of a hundred different whispers that made no sense, their language one I could not understand in the very least. That was all I could tell from the world outside. There was darkness all around. Nothing. Although I was somewhere. The voices, although interesting, were just the world I knew. At that moment I didn't know of anything other than where I currently was. Darkness, voices, the sound of my own breath, the smell of what I then came to know was dirt.

There were others like me. We were all one, lying around and being ourselves and each other. No need for identity, no need for anything other than our existence. Our breath, our hearts beating against one another and the casual conversations that we at times had with one another. At times, when there was nothing for me to do, I made my way to the corner of our world and looked through the cracks. Trying to understand what the voices are about.

All of the moments of that time are confusing. A mess of moments and people that are impossible to remember regardless of how hard I try. The time inside it nothing more than vague memories of nothingness.

My first clear memory was of the sky. Crystal blue. It was the first time I had ever seen a colour such as that, so clear and beautiful. And I could breath. Little by little. The sound of my breath slowly became part of the background and I could hear the sound of leaves rustling against the wind. The colours of the grass, the texture of every single blade beneath me. I suppose, that it was only then that I was truly alive.

"Era uoy ko?" A voice said. I had heard voices such as his before but had never been able to know what they said, their sound usually muffled and uncertain. It took me too long to respond, my eyes following the way his mouth moved. The circular form of his jaw and the manner in which his arms reached out for me, covering me in a piece of fabric. "Era uoy ko?" He kept asking, checking me for any injuries. Those eyes of his were strange and sweet. My ears adjusted to the sound of his voice, attempting to understand what he was saying. "Staw ruoy eman?" I had nothing to answer with.

They all thought I was too young to know my name, what had happened or from where I came. His mother, a woman of auburn hair and sun kissed skin. She looked into my eyes and took me in, despite not being her child. She washed my hair and braided it. From pieces of fabric she made me two outfits. A dress that I would wear, of white, with flowers embroidered along the collar. A nightgown of the same colour and from the same piece of cloth. "Just for now." She said with a smile when she dressed me.

They didn't give me a name, unable to settle on one. A thousand different were offered to me by the different children. Mariposa, Flora, Fish, and a ton of other strange options that ranged from random household objects to the ground that we commonly walked upon.

His name was Benjamin. The third child of six, seventh if you counted me as a member of the family. And I would be the youngest, carried on his back after I had followed him out the home each morning. He would wake me up and allow me to climb on his back, before securing me in place with fabric. I would hold on to him and watch him as we walked. He would sing as we walked. His voice loud and rough. And it took me a long time to understand what he was saying. The sound of their voces hard for me to follow but I enjoyed listening to him sing, the melody sending me to sleep.

It was him who taught me how to speak. Having me repeat things after him. It was his name the first thing I learned how to speak, and once he continued to teach I learned. Two weeks later he had nothing else to teach.

I sang along with him, my voice small compared to his. Wrapping my arms around his neck as we walked along.

"We have a little genius right here. Don't we?" The father said after hearing me speak in full sentences. He was a man that towered everyone else. Each morning he would leave the home, making his way through the forest and collecting wood that would later be sold in town. "Can you say Papa?" I never bothered to think about how they always treated me as their own.

At dinner I would sit next to the mother, who insisted on me calling her Momma, and have her teach me manners. It wasn't necessary for us to learn the proper way a lady grabbed a fork but she insisted un us all being proper at the dinner table. Ben later explained to me that his mother had grown as the daughter to a maid. The family that took care of them had been kind and treated them as friends, allowing the mother to take the same classes as the daughter.

"Why does she hold on to that?" I asked Benjamin as we sat in a field, eating the lunch she had packed for us. "It's in the past, isn't it?"

"I think it makes her happy." Ben said, handing me half of his lunch as he usually did. "You might find it useful some day."

"Why?" I only understood then that I was viewed as a girl. People expected from me things different to what they expected from Benjamin.

"One day you'll start helping mom with the dresses. Like Alma. Or you'll go into the city to work for a family like Sonia." He explained my options and I remained silent, attempting to understand why we had to leave the mornings we currently had- in the past.

"Time has to stop." I told him and he laughed.

"Maybe one day it will." He told me. "And we will always be here. Looking over the scenery."