Slice Of Cherry by Reeves Dia

Author:Reeves, Dia [Reeves, Dia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2011-03-07T06:00:00+00:00

Datura and Selenicera stared around the garden from the platform with the statues, disoriented and wide-eyed— Selenicera kept patting the cobbled platform, feeling for the dirt she’d been buried in. The confusion soon gave way to admiration; Datura and Selenicera knew a thing or three about gardens, after all, and the headless garden was in fine form today.

“The kinetoscope’s gone!” Kit exclaimed.

“It doesn’t come over, Kit.” Fancy said. “It never has.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno. It’s not like Cherry gave me a manual.”

While the Woodsons were busy gaping, Fancy’s minions entered the garden and made a beeline for Datura, and to her displeasure, dressed her in a straitjacket.

“What’s going on?” Datura demanded, her jittery eyes flitting toward the sisters and then away. “What are you doing? Why’re they manhandling me?”

Fancy spoke up as Kit helped Selenicera off the ground, helping her stand on her spindly legs. “Just a precaution. I aim to test what you said. See if the kid can thrive in the light. If she can’t, then we’ll kill her. And if we do kill her, I wouldn’t want you to suddenly turn on us and try to take revenge.”

“What do you mean?” Datura turned to Kit. “What does she mean?”

But Fancy was too busy watching the sky to answer. Under her gaze the clouds parted and sunlight fell on them, as gently as a warm shower.

Selenicera began to grow taller and sturdier. Her thin, lank hair thickened and flourished, and roses bloomed in her milky cheeks. She laughed to see the changes in herself, running her hands through her hair and twirling on her suddenly strong legs. Fancy realized as she watched Selenicera becoming healthier that she must be closer to nine or ten; life with Datura had stunted her growth.

Unlike her sister, Datura began to weaken in the sun. Her skin shriveled and dried; her hair began to fall out like leaves from a dead tree; she squirmed in her straitjacket, gasping for water.

Fancy told her, “It’s not the kid who can’t handle the light; it’s you. Imagine that.”

“Please.” The minions had to hold her upright. “Water.”

“So by your own reasoning,” Fancy continued, ignoring her pleas, “you’re the one who needs to be killed. Right?”

Datura bared her teeth. One of them fell out and clattered on the stone. “I should’ve followed my first mind and cremated you.”

“But then we wouldn’t be here having a swell time,” Fancy exclaimed, as Kit scooped up the tooth and put it in her pocket.

Fancy snapped her fingers, and a flood of happy place people poured through hedges carrying garden furniture and trays of food. Not muscle, just regular people, who smiled and bobbed their heads when they entered Fancy’s presence. Within moments they had set up a table and chairs and furnished tea and sandwiches and cakes enough for high tea with the queen.

“Selenicera, do something,” said Datura during the commotion. “Don’t let them treat me like this. Not after all I’ve done for you.”

Selenicera stopped spinning and looked at her sister, took in the straitjacket, seeing her as though for the first time.

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