Next Of Kin
Entry by: Kim
17th September 2015
Next of Kin
A short squat man is standing squinting into the sunshine. He’s squinting because he is trying to see the cloud that looked like an elephant. A second ago, it had drifted into being in the sky, but now it is already broken up. The short squat man frowns and moves on.
An elephant cloud would have been a fine thing to see properly. He wonders why he never sees things as they happen, but always hears about it afterwards or catches a hurried glimpse. If he had his way, he would have taken the cloud home for further exploration and examination of its elephantine proportions.
His hand is clamped around another small hand belonging to a short squat boy. The short squat boy is dragging a lead, and at the end of the lead is a short squat dog.
They are out for their Sunday walk. Every Sunday, the wife of the short squat man and the mother of the short squat boy hurries them out the door with indecent haste. They do not know what she does during these hours. Interestingly, she is not short nor squat. She is tall and graceful and is talked about all over the seven vast regions of Kin. They say that over the sea, there is a better land. Nobody knows what it is called. The flowers sometimes tell you if you stroke them gently, but even then, they only say that it is Next of Kin and better than it. Far far better. It has become a myth in the town. It is spoken about in whispers and never on Sundays.
The short squat man is called Mister Master, and the short squat boy is called Master Mister. Usually they are just Mister and Master for short. They are going today to see Dame Same. Master walks beside Mister dragging the short squat dog who is called Dog.
‘You must catch a glimpse of the clouds,’ Mister says to Master, ‘I swear I saw an elephant.’
‘They go too fast,’ Master says kicking at the black flowers that grow in between the blue shiny pavements. ‘Is it true, sir, that if you do catch a cloud, you can ride it all the way to…’
‘Don’t say it!’ says Mister looking about him, ‘the ground has ears,’
It does. Little tiny ones every hundred steps or so. Master always deliberately squashes them but they just come back again.
When they get to Dame Same’s home, Mister calls out -
'Hello Dame Same, a very good morning
I do hope that you’re not still yawning!'
She comes out smiling,
'My dear old friends, little Mister and Master
doesn’t Master grow ever faster
but not like his mother at her grand height
how is your dear wife, is she alright?'
As Dame Same and Mister exchange small talk about the weird shapes in the clouds today, Master is outside staring at them. He is trying to remember everything he has ever heard about Next of Kin. They say that over there, the ground is not shiny blue and there are no ears growing from it. They say that the flowers are not black and that when you get old, they don’t kill you. Master is always amazed by what he hears, it sounds too incredible to be true. One day he will find a way to get there.
Dame Same interrupts his thoughts,
'Now don’t you go staring too hard in the sky,
it will make you dream and make you cry.'
He scowls at her, what does she know with her silly rhymes. She’s never said anything sensible in her life. One day he’ll show her that it is worth dreaming, and it will need to be soon before Mister gets taken for being old. He looks at Mister critically, definitely more wrinkles than yesterday, he keeps telling him to stop frowning at the clouds.
That night, when they are back in the house again, his mother tucks him up in bed. ‘Mother?’ he says, but she doesn’t reply, on account of not being able to speak. He talks to her anyway and her face replies in all kinds of ways. Her eyebrows arch up now and he knows she’s saying ‘yes dear?’
‘can I go to Next of Kin?’
She starts crying then, big boo-hoos that make her body wobble but no sound comes out. ‘Don’t cry, mother!’ he says horrified that he’s made her cry. He throws himself against her and she squeezes him really tight, until he thinks he’s got no breath left. He can feel her breathing against his ear, then it feels like something has just been placed right in the centre of his head.
‘Its only what they give us, so that we hope. There is no Next of Kin, only us.'
The words inside him have made him cold but instantly he knows that he’s heard one of the truest things in his world. She lifts her finger to her lips and motions him to lie down. She kisses him softly on the cheek. She leans over and speaks the first words he’s ever heard her speak, ‘don’t be sad, little one, you are my next of kin, you are my hope, and always be.’
The short squat boy falls asleep that night with the weight of all his mother’s dreams and hopes pressing him down.
A short squat man is standing squinting into the sunshine. He’s squinting because he is trying to see the cloud that looked like an elephant. A second ago, it had drifted into being in the sky, but now it is already broken up. The short squat man frowns and moves on.
An elephant cloud would have been a fine thing to see properly. He wonders why he never sees things as they happen, but always hears about it afterwards or catches a hurried glimpse. If he had his way, he would have taken the cloud home for further exploration and examination of its elephantine proportions.
His hand is clamped around another small hand belonging to a short squat boy. The short squat boy is dragging a lead, and at the end of the lead is a short squat dog.
They are out for their Sunday walk. Every Sunday, the wife of the short squat man and the mother of the short squat boy hurries them out the door with indecent haste. They do not know what she does during these hours. Interestingly, she is not short nor squat. She is tall and graceful and is talked about all over the seven vast regions of Kin. They say that over the sea, there is a better land. Nobody knows what it is called. The flowers sometimes tell you if you stroke them gently, but even then, they only say that it is Next of Kin and better than it. Far far better. It has become a myth in the town. It is spoken about in whispers and never on Sundays.
The short squat man is called Mister Master, and the short squat boy is called Master Mister. Usually they are just Mister and Master for short. They are going today to see Dame Same. Master walks beside Mister dragging the short squat dog who is called Dog.
‘You must catch a glimpse of the clouds,’ Mister says to Master, ‘I swear I saw an elephant.’
‘They go too fast,’ Master says kicking at the black flowers that grow in between the blue shiny pavements. ‘Is it true, sir, that if you do catch a cloud, you can ride it all the way to…’
‘Don’t say it!’ says Mister looking about him, ‘the ground has ears,’
It does. Little tiny ones every hundred steps or so. Master always deliberately squashes them but they just come back again.
When they get to Dame Same’s home, Mister calls out -
'Hello Dame Same, a very good morning
I do hope that you’re not still yawning!'
She comes out smiling,
'My dear old friends, little Mister and Master
doesn’t Master grow ever faster
but not like his mother at her grand height
how is your dear wife, is she alright?'
As Dame Same and Mister exchange small talk about the weird shapes in the clouds today, Master is outside staring at them. He is trying to remember everything he has ever heard about Next of Kin. They say that over there, the ground is not shiny blue and there are no ears growing from it. They say that the flowers are not black and that when you get old, they don’t kill you. Master is always amazed by what he hears, it sounds too incredible to be true. One day he will find a way to get there.
Dame Same interrupts his thoughts,
'Now don’t you go staring too hard in the sky,
it will make you dream and make you cry.'
He scowls at her, what does she know with her silly rhymes. She’s never said anything sensible in her life. One day he’ll show her that it is worth dreaming, and it will need to be soon before Mister gets taken for being old. He looks at Mister critically, definitely more wrinkles than yesterday, he keeps telling him to stop frowning at the clouds.
That night, when they are back in the house again, his mother tucks him up in bed. ‘Mother?’ he says, but she doesn’t reply, on account of not being able to speak. He talks to her anyway and her face replies in all kinds of ways. Her eyebrows arch up now and he knows she’s saying ‘yes dear?’
‘can I go to Next of Kin?’
She starts crying then, big boo-hoos that make her body wobble but no sound comes out. ‘Don’t cry, mother!’ he says horrified that he’s made her cry. He throws himself against her and she squeezes him really tight, until he thinks he’s got no breath left. He can feel her breathing against his ear, then it feels like something has just been placed right in the centre of his head.
‘Its only what they give us, so that we hope. There is no Next of Kin, only us.'
The words inside him have made him cold but instantly he knows that he’s heard one of the truest things in his world. She lifts her finger to her lips and motions him to lie down. She kisses him softly on the cheek. She leans over and speaks the first words he’s ever heard her speak, ‘don’t be sad, little one, you are my next of kin, you are my hope, and always be.’
The short squat boy falls asleep that night with the weight of all his mother’s dreams and hopes pressing him down.
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