Clovers End - 7. The Elder

Alex P.O.V

"You want me to go through there? ", I question.

"Yes.", says Rachel firmly.

"But.", I intervene

"Hurry along we need to make sure nobody sees. You go first James and Alex you follow.", she states.

What have I gotten myself into. I watch him as he disappears into the wall and before long he is completely out of sight. I contemplate whether or not it's a bad time to mention that I'm not the fondest of tight spaces. Rachel notices my apprehension and reassuring nudges me towards the entrance. I peer into the foreboding crevice. It's dark but I think I can make out the slightest fragment of light gently flickering, it dances back and forth like a finger beckoning me with it's hypnotic flame. It twists violently, curling in on itself. It rolls in pale blue luminescence producing an inviting halo of electric warmth.

Swallowing hard, I mentally prepare myself. I shift my by body, adjusting my position and slide through. My hands feverishly reaching backwards for something to support me, the skin comes into contact with a cool craggily surface, saturated with proposed remnants of condensation. I use it as a guide to propel myself along the narrow aperture. It begins to widen, opening up like delicate moth eaten flower to form a wonky spherical like foyer.

A pronounced structure lays embedded within the hard stone, on closer inspection an obsidian door impends itself in grandeur, both in sheer size and intricacy of peculiar embellishments that effortlessly mark the threshold in archaic looking inscriptions. In close proximity, lies the cerulean inferno eagerly lapping at the sides of a sleek dish, suspended atop a marble column. It's violent gesticulations create an unwarranted monomachy of light and shadow across the porous space. I'm drawn to the vibrant colour, placing my hand close to the embers, I feel no heat radiating outwards. I curiously plunge my hand downwards. I stare flabbergasted as it devours my hand. Instead of unbearable sweltering heat, it cooly writhes against my skin.

"Beautiful, isn't it?", James remarks.

"Yeah", I whisper, " What is it?"

"I don't know.", he says his body noticeably closer to mine. He leans against me bringing his lips to my ear. His deep raspy voice resonates. I shiver as he speaks, "You'd be surprised Al. Despite being 'Anomalies' ourselves, we don't know everything about our world but I can show you how to use it."

He interlocks his fingers with mine, running it along the smooth surface of the bowl until it makes contact with a notch which he flips slowly. The door groans heavily, swinging inwards. As Rachel enters, the intimacy of the situation dies. He seems to realise himself and pulls away. "Sorry, I didn't mean too . I don't know what came over me.", he says hastily before he walks away.

"James, wait!", I call after him, " Neither did I." It's like I'm left with even more burning questions than when we first met.

A confused Rachel creases her eyebrows, "I'm sorry.Did I miss something?"

I turn to her ,trying to conceal my reddened cheeks, "No, don't worry about it.

She raises an unbelieving brow and simply says , "Okay."

Once through the precipice, the door clicks shut behind us. A little down the walkway stands a woman, well worn but not entirely deteriorated. Grey streaks pattern her hair with gained wisdom. A few sparse wrinkles decorate her browned skin. She wears a thoughtful gaze, her eyes crease thickly almost as if the features themselves were carved with a harsh knife into her timeless visage. She takes a step forward, pursing her lips , contorting it into saggen smile.

"I've been expecting you", she utters. I look at both James and Rachel who seem to share my confusion.

"You have ?", I ask curiously.

“No child, I did it for dramatic effect (she adds with a sly wink). Call it anti climatic, but Mamma do that to all her guests. She don't get very many visitors but when she do, that blasted door never fails to let her know.", she chuckles revealing a toothless mouth. She hobbles past me and rats a wooden cane angrily against the stone.

"So what are you standing around for, come give Mama Rosario a hug.", she beams brightly spreading her arms into the open air. We take our turns and finally I apprehensively wrap her in a warm embrace. She pulls away and pinches my cheeks.

"Last time Mamma saw you, you were little more than a bean growing in your mother's belly. Your mother and father came to me the night before they left with you.", she says proudly.

"I'm sorry Ma'am", I start.

"Mama Rosario is fine my child.", she cuts me off.

"Mama Rosaria?", I correct myself, "So you're saying that you knew my parents and you were with them the day they left? Why did they leave? Where they in trouble?"

"Easy child. Despite her youthful good looks, as the youngins say it, Mama Rosario ain't no chicken spring.", she whimsically assures.

"Come.", she gestures with a crooked finger, "Mama feels there is much we need to discuss. Let's go somewhere more comfortable."