THEIR FEARFUL SYMMETRY

A Talespin fanfic by Lizzy Spencer (KarmaCat) Page 8

 
 
 

        Sarabi got into the elevator on her way to the lobby. It was crowded but the employees were good about making ample room for her. None of them dared to cross her.
        Sarabi nodded at them and they nodded back in unison, like a bunch of puppets. The elevator stopped and yet more people got in, and Sarabi was gently pushed to the back, until she was pressed right up against someone. She closed her eyes, as she was a little on the claustrophobic side, especially when it came to being around lots of people in a small space. She almost tripped, and the person behind her steadied her by the shoulders.
        "Excuse me," she said, looking to see who it was.
        Her almost let out a yelp. It was James.
        He said nothing.
        She turned and faced the front of the elevator, not wanting to see his handsomeness. "Good morning." Why was she talking to him?
        "Morning," he replied coldly. "Where are you getting off?"
        She hesitated for an outraged moment, thinking he was asking something else, and then replied, "Lobby." She was suddenly possessed by the desire to lean back against him, to feel him there. Her mind resisted it. Well.
 
 

        "Friendship Festival! Friendship Festival!" Orly sang out happily. "You know, I really don't like the Friendship Festival, the more I think about it. It's kind of corny. But what the heck, there's nothing better to do. Right, Sara?"
        "I guess," Sarabi replied.
        Orly was wearing some strange outfit, a skirt with her army boots and about five hundred butterfly hair clips in her hair, along with three or four pairs of earrings. Both Sarabi and Shere hated the way she dressed. Orly didn't care. She had battled her father long and hard to dress the way she wanted, arguments which made Shere think she would have made a great lawyer. She never cared a raindrop about what anybody thought.
        Sarabi, on the other hand, wore a navy blue skirt and a white blouse.
        "Just as long as we don't have to stay very long," Sarabi grumbled.
        "Hey, you don't even have to go. I can go with Gabe."
        "Like you said, there's nothing better to do."
        Orly shrugged. "Yeah. I'll win you  a stuffed animal. You need some more color in that spotless room of yours."
        "I think it was all usurped by your room," Sarabi replied.
        Orly thought of her room, with all it's posters and numerous stuffed animals and clothes lying all around. "I guess you're right. Is Papa even awake yet?"
        "He gets up later and later these days," Sarabi sighed, looking over her shoulder to the hall where her father's room was located. "I worry sometimes."
        Orly gave dismissive wave. "Nah. He's just sleeping in. C'mon, let's go."
        "No, no wait," Sarabi said. Her voice was tinged with concern. She began to walk down the hall.
        "Where are you going?"
        "I'm going to go tell father we're leaving," she called back.
        She wandered down the dark hall, feeling, for some reason, that this was the first time she was seeing it. She couldn't really understand why and didn't bother to take the time to try.
        She knocked on his great door, hearing his great, sleeping breaths. He was lying in bed like a great blue mountain, completely still except for the rise and fall of his chest. His arm was extended out to where, she knew, her mother had been so many years earlier.
        She gently touched his shoulder. "Father?"
        "Hmmgnnn?" His eyes barely opened enough to see Sarabi looming over him.
        And she did a thing that was so very foreign to her, something she hadn't done since she was at least seven or so.
        She leaned down and kissed her father's cheek.
        He gazed up at her questioningly.
        "We're going to the Festival now, Papa," she said, smiling, even though the back of her mind wondered why she was being so suddenly affectionate. Had she called him 'papa'?
        He bagan to fall asleep again. "Have a good time, dear. Get home safely."
        She didn't reply to that, because, somehow, she wasn't sure if she would.
        She went back down the hall to Orly and they left for the Festival.
 

        It was within walking distance.
        Orly began to get exited as she saw all the brilliant colors and happy people. She watched the ferris wheel revolve slowly. "Hey Sarabi, wanna go on the ferris wheel?" she asked, feeling like a little kid again.
        "You know, I hear that those things fall over and crush innocent passersby all the time. I don't know if that's such a good idea."
        "Eh, you're such a nudnik. C'mon, there's a booth. I'll win you that animal you wanted."
        "I don't want an animal." A hippo juggling eight pineapples walked by.
        "Sure you do." Orly stepped up to the booth and handed the carnie a few bills, and in return, the walrus gave her some baseballs.
        "Knock over the bottles and you get this," the walrus said, pointing to a gigantic stuffed gorilla bird. He wore a too small red t-shirt and a cap. A cigar stuck out of his mouth. Sarabi wrinkled her nose.
        Orly threw a ball, and, even though it struck the bottles, they didn't fall over. She threw it again and the same thing happened. One ball left.
        The carny smiled. "You gotta throw it real hard, girlie," he said. "Hey, youse kids is those Khan girlies, ain't cha'?"
        "This game is fixed," Sarabi extended her claws and lightly brushed them against her blouse.
        Orly pitched the last ball at lightning speed. The bottles clattered to the ground.
        "Good for you!" the carnie praised. He handed her the gorilla bird.
        Orly looked up at her sister. "Ye of little faith," she muttered, shoving the bird into her sister's chest.
        "I do NOT want this thing," she replied, stumbling back. "This is the ulgi-" she stopped in mid sentence and looked to her left, through the flashes of the crowd.
        "Ugliest what?" Orly asked. 'What do you see?"
        She looked away. 'Nothing. Let's go." She began to walking to the next booth, gorilla bird in hand. Orly glanced over the where her sister had been looking and saw, to her surprise, James. He was in line for the ferris wheel with a girl, a panther with stick straight black hair, who looked only a little younger than he was. His sister, Orly knew, but she doubted Sarabi did. They were arm in arm and laughing together.
        Orly's eyebrows raised in suspicion. She turned and caught up with her sister, who was watching someone getting their palm read by some old gypsy. "Hey Sara, I meant to ask you, what was that letter James gave you a few days back?"
        Sarabi didn't even flinch. "What letter?"
        "You know, that letter he had me give to you."
        "Hmmm? Oh, that. It was nothing."
        Orly crossed her arms. "Whatever you say, Sara."
        "I say we should go to a few more booths so you'll be satiated enough that we can get out of here -"
        "And hide from the world in the top floor of the building," Orly interrupted quietly.
        Sarabi stared at her sister for a moment. 'If that's what you want to call it," she replied quietly amongst the white noise of the carnival.
        Something passed between the two girls at that moment, a sort of connection that only sisters knew. Orly suddenly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her sister and quickly released her. "I love you, Sarabi," she whispered. "I never tell you that."
        "The same, Orly, the same."
        Perhaps that sudden show of affection happened because they both knew the odd pain of living hidden in that tower.
        Or perhaps it was because both of them knew, in their collective deep subconscious, what was going to happen next.
 
 

        Later, Orly's arms were filled with junky stuffed animals she had won at numerous games. She smiled. She had noticed that during the course of she and her sister's visit to the festival, the word had gotten around to the carny workers that they were Shere Khan's daughters and, therefore, had money. They tended to flock after them , trying to seduce them to their games, and Sarabi could call it each time a game was fixed. And each time she called it, in order to prove her wrong, the carny let Orly win with the hopes that she would play again. Sarabi, she decided, was good to have at a festival.
        When Orly decided she'd had enough, and Sarabi more than enough, they began to walk back to the building.
        'Have a good time, Sara?"
        "Apparently you did," she replied. "Need any help carrying those?"
        "Nah. I don't even need em, really. Hey, kids!" she called suddenly.
        "What are you doing?"
        "Kids! Hey, come over here!" she waved her hand at a group of children who were standing around eating cotton candy. They looked to each other, and then to the tall blonde haired bear who was watching them. She appeared to be about twenty and wore a light pink sun dress.
        The group of small children flocked around Orly. "Hey, you want some free toys?"
        "Yeah!" The kids sang out in chorus.
        Sarabi raised her eyebrows, impressed. "That's a new one, Orly. You never get rid of anything."
        "I'm just sick of carrying them. But here, take this one," she said, handing her sister the gorilla bird. "I kinda like him." She handed the stuffed animals out to the sticky cotton candy children like blessings from a saint.
        The female bear regarded them both for a minute. "That's awfully nice of you. I just started teaching at Cape Suzette Elementary and I though we should have a little field trip. It's such a beautiful day."
        "Yeah!" Orly laughed. "Lucky kids." She handed one of them a bright pink stuffed bear. "What's your name?"
        She bent down to stop a small scuffle that arose between two kids over an animal. "Give it back, Lisa," she scolded gently. She looked up. "My name's Molly Cunningham. Is it just me, or do you two look familiar...?"
        "We're Shere Khan's daughters," Sarabi said, getting it over with.
        "Basically," Orly replied.
        "Oh. Newsreels, that's where I've seen you two. Hmmm." She had a reedy, light voice. "So, are you two busy, or would you like to get a Frosty Pep with us?"
        "Frosty Pep!" one of the kids cheered.
        "Hey Jimmy, calm down, kid," said a deeper male voice. Orly looked up and saw a tall, handsome bear who picked up the presumed Jimmy. "We'll get your Pep," he reassured him.
        The bear wore a green corduroy jacket and held an old blue baseball cap. His fur was a nice light brown and he had a friendly, but ruddy sort of look to him. He was tall, too, about six three easily. Jimmy giggled on his arm. "Hey, I can see everything from here!"
        "One day I'll take you up in my plane," he said, "and you'll REALLY be able to see everything!"
        Jimmy's eyes widened. "Will you for real? Will you take me on a barrel roll? I mean, since you're the bestest pilot in the world?"
        "Sure!" He drew the child in close to him. "And maybe, if you're good," he said mysteriously, "I'll teach you how to air-board!"
        "What's that?" Jimmy asked. "And where's my Pep?"
        "Hey Molly, where's his Pep?' he asked, laughing.
        "Can you get it? You said you'd come help with the field trip."
        "Yeah," he smiled and straightened his hair. Orly swallowed a lump in her throat when she looked at him. She found him very attractive, for some reason, this man. She didn't know why, but there was something exquisitely romantic in him, the way he moved. His eyes sparkled. There was a yellow patch on the elbow of his jacket. He was desperately full of life. She noticed all these things within three seconds of watching him and knew that she was a little in love.
        But he was way too old for her. He seemed to be approaching thirty.
        He extended his free hand. "Hi, what's your name?"
        "My name? Oh yeah, that. Heh. Right. My name is Orly Khan. Nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand. "And this is my sister, Sarabi."
        "Kit. Kit Cloudkicker." He looked at Sarabi a little longer than Orly. "How's it going?"
        "Fine, Sir. We were just on our way home."
        "Hey, will you teach me how to air-board sometime?" Orly asked suddenly without even knowing what it was.
        He seemed surprised. 'Well, uh, sure, I guess. Just come by Higher for Hire down by the docks and we'll see what we can do. Oh and, by the way, tell your pop that Kit Cloudkicker said hello. Just to see if he remembers me."
        "Kit Cloudkicker," Orly said to herself. "I like the way that sounds."
        Sarabi rolled her eyes. "Come on, Orly. Let's go home. Father's waiting for us."
        Orly turned to Molly and Kit, shaking their hands respectively. "Nice to meet you both. Have a good time on the field trip. Enjoy the toys, kids!" She laughed and said to Molly, "I felt like Santa Claus when I said that!"
        "Thank you for them," Molly replied, picking up a child. "You must be really talented to be able to win all that."
        "Magic!" Orly said.
        "And nice to meet you, too, Ms....." Molly said, looking toward Sarabi.
        "Sarabi. And likewise." Molly smiled.
        One of the kids tugged at Sarabi's skirt. It was a little girl, a young white rabbit wearing a yellow dress. "When Sarabi looked down, the little rabbit said, "You're a pretty lady."
        Sarabi seemed a little taken aback. "Thank you."
        And they walked on, waving good-bye.
        "They were nice," Orly said.
        "Hmmm."
        They faded away from the noise of the festival as a band began to play somewhere. It was, as Molly Cunningham had said, a nice day. A pleasant array of wildflower smells wafted through the air and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Orly could smell the salt in the air from the nearby bay. She figured that she would probably spend the rest of the day on the balcony sleeping in the sun.
        "Gabe lives around here," she said. 'Wanna go visit?"
        "You can," Sarabi said. "I've got my pistol."
        "Okay," Orly said, the statement not phasing her. She had one too. They had learned to shoot for self defense as soon as they were old enough to go out by themselves. Being who they were, they lived in constant danger of being kidnapped for ransom money, so they tended to go out together in order to protect each other. Their father was so afraid of losing them like he had lost his wife.
        They began to go off their separate ways, Orly toward Gabe's house and Sarabi back toward the building. Gabe saw Orly coming down the street and came running out to greet her. Orly smiled when she saw him coming, but then had the strongest desire to turn and look at her sister.
        Sarabi was crossing the street and digging in her purse. A silver and white car came around the corner and Orly saw that it was going much faster than it should have been. She glanced toward the driver. He was a pig and seemed to be...choking on something......
        "Orly, that car-" Gabriel began behind her.
        "SARABI!" Orly shrieked.
        The white-haired girl turned and looked at the oncoming car, not with a look of surprise or terror, but rather, one of extreme interest. The car accelerated forward and slammed into her body at forty five miles per hour. The tigress didn't even make a sound before the impact. She flew up onto the windshield and over the back of the car, leaving a trail of crimson in her wake, her white hair flashing like a star in the sun. Gabriel screamed and it echoed in Orly's ears.
        "SARABI!" she screamed.
        Orly's knees went weak as she looked upon the all-to-suddenly broken body of her sister lying in the street. The car crashed into a building a few seconds later. She began to run, run, run over to her bleeding sister.
        "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God....." Gabriel panted.
        Orly fell down by her sister's side and shook her. "SOMEBODY HELP!!!" she shrieked at the stunned onlookers. 'SOMEBODY GET SOME HELP!!!" Her voice cracked and she began to sob uncontrollably.
        She rolled her sister over. Her blue eyes were wide open on her expressionless face and her hair was streaked pink with blood. Blood seeped down out of her mouth and her white blouse was now a deep red. Her claws were out, like she had been preparing to fight, and broken.
        She wasn't breathing.
        "NO!" Orly cried in anguish. This was all happening far too fast. She grabbed an onlooker with a hand covered in her sister's blood. "Get my father, Shere Khan!" she ordered. "Get my father, Shere Khan!"
        "Okay," he replied and ran off.
        Orly didn't know what to do. "Sarabi, no, no...oh God, Sarabi, please, oh God no..." She put her hands on her sister's chest and tried to pump it like she had seen people do. Nothing happened. Her sister's head jerked with the force of it, but that was all.
        "Sarabi," Orly panted. "Sarabi, breath."
        Nothing.
        "BREATH!" She slapped her.
        Gabriel fell to his knees and began to pray over Sarabi's motionless body.
        "Oh no, don't you start praying now, Gabriel, don't you start praying now. She's not dead yet. You hear me, she's not dead." She kept pumping away. "She's not dead. She's not dead. She's not dead."
        "Orly!" he sobbed. "Orly, stop!"
        "I can't stop!" she shrieked. "It's my sister!"
        But then she looked up and saw the paramedics arriving and promptly passed out.

 
        Shere knew everything was really happening when he saw a shaken Orly covered in Sarabi's blood at the hospital, no more than ten minutes after he had received the second most terrifying phone call of his life.
        "Oh..." he uttered as he looked upon her. He could feel himself falling apart as Orly wrapped herself around him, muttering, "Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa....."
        He cupped his hands around her face and her teardrop seeped down his index finger. "Orly, you have to be strong now. You have to be strong." But he knew he was talking more to himself than he was to her. He also knew he was still in shock.
        They were in a private waiting room at Cape Suzette General, white and sterile smelling, that smell all hospitals have. He kissed his daughter on the top of the head and forced himself to smile at her, to reassure her.
        "Here, sit down," he said, giving her a chair. He knelt beside her.
        "I should have helped her, Papa. I should have pushed her out of the way," she whispered. "I should have pushed her..I should have pushed her....."
        "You did all that you could, Orly. You were very brave. Didn't you hear what Gabriel said?"
        "What did he say?" she asked, staring straight ahead and picking at her claws.
        "He said that you were his hero." He paused. "And you're also mine."
        She looked at him with her big, luminous, August-eyes. "Do you mean that?"
        "I will always mean that, my beautiful girl," he whispered. "My beautiful Orly."
        The door creaked open and the doctor came in. He was a tall bird, bald, with glasses, and wore a white lab coat.
        Shere looked to him, and, after a moment, said, "Go ahead, Doctor."
        The bird looked down at the floor and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. They were tiny slits in his face. "This is never easy... the damage was too extensive. I'm afraid there was nothing we could do."
        "Oh God!!" Orly's shriek echoed high in Shere's ear. She wrapped herself around him again. Shere, barely able to move, nodded at the doctor to show that he understood. The doctor took his leave out of politeness.
        They stayed like that for a while, their arms around each other. Shere listened to his daughter sob and rested his head against the top of hers, begging himself not to break down. He couldn't break in front of his daughter. He just stood there and let her cry, wishing she could cry for him.
        "What are we going to do now, Papa?" she asked.
        "We're going to go on, Orly."
        "How?" she begged of him, as if he knew any more than she did.
        Too many memories of August's death came flooding back to him suddenly.
        Penance.
        The word echoed in his mind like a loud trumpet. Orly felt him gasp and cried out, "No! No, papa." She straightened his red tie, thinking he was crying. "Be strong. For me."
 

 
 
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