Published: 20/03/2025, 08:30 CET
Updated: 20/03/2025, 08:40 CET
By modulus
In writing .
tags: english
The fire crackled, and Anu wriggled, finding just the right place, not too close to burn, not too far to get cold. They lay their head on Leyu’s lap. Leyu smiled and twined their fingers on Anu’s hair, fondly.
“ Hungry?” Leyu asked.
“ Not so much,” Anu said. “Tummy’s full.”
“ Good,” Leyu said, tickling Anu. “Have you decided?”
They laughed. “I think I’ll stay Anu for a little longer.”
“ Sounds good to me. There’s no hurry.”
“ And you?”
Leyu frowned. “I suppose I haven’t got bored of you yet,” they said with a teasing tone. “Do you want me to change?”
“ Mmmm, noooo,” Anu said, sounding uncertain. “Your lap’s nice.”
Leyu laughed. “I’m glad!”
“ Leyu, Leyu, tell me. Why don’t we take the apples into the cave? They get so nasty when they fall.”
“ Oh, little Anu… Can you imagine how much work it is to carry every single apple,” they said with an expansive gesture, encompassing the trees, “into the cave? And what for? So some animal can eat them?”
“ Mmm, yeees,” they mumbled. “But… We could make it…”
Anu fumbled for a word. It wasn’t easy in a language that couldn’t say better.
“ Yes?” Leyu said.
“ We could… How do you say, to do the right thing, but more right?”
“ There’s no more right or less right. There’s right.”
“ Yes but… If we can keep the apples longer—”
“ Anu, you said you weren’t hungry!” Leyu said. There was still a teasing edge to their voice, but also something else underneath it.
“ Not hungry now, hungry later. If we—”
“ I’m not going to take the apples there. Who would take them? Rinu, Seime, Doit?”
“ Mmm, noooo. But if we all carried some… Like we do for the fire.”
“ Everyone wants to be warm, Anu. People don’t want to give the apples to the cave.”
“ But the cave, it would keep them for us, so we can—”
“ Anu, you’re not even hungry.” They sighed. “I think I may change after all.”
“ But you said—”
“ Yes, but I changed my mind.”
“ Leyu…”
No way to beg, either.
“ I’ve changed now, I’m… let me think… Noon.”
Noon gently pushed Anu off their lap.
“ Leyu…”
“ Leyu’s dead.”
Anu cried.
A few other children saw it and approached. One gave Anu an apple, another one cuddled them.
“ Anu, Anu, what happened?”
“ Leyu’s dead,” they sobbed.
They hugged Anu tightly, looking at the adult nearby.
“ Leyu’s dead?”
“ I’m Noon,” the adult said.
Anu slowly calmed down. They were still hiccuping a little, but they dried their tears and walked towards Rinu.
“ Can I be Anu with you?” they asked.
“ Of course. Come closer.”
“ Can I lie on your lap? Layu always let me lie on their lap.”
But Rinu’s lap just didn’t feel the same.
If there was no more right and less right, why did Rinu’s lap felt right, but not right right? Not Leyu right?
That made Anu cry all over again.
Rinu tried to hush them. “Shh, do you need something, little Anu?”
“ I need Leyu!”
“ Anu… Leyu’s dead, you know that.”
“ I don’t care! I need Leyu!”
“ We don’t need things that don’t exist, Anu.”
“ Don’t. Care.”
Rinu frowned, looking for other adults. They took Anu in their arms and walked aroudn the fire.
“ Seime, do you want little Anu? They won’t stop crying.”
“ Alright, then. Leave them here.”
For the second time in one night, Anu had to learn what another lap felt like.
It felt right, but not Leyu right, either. Different from Rinu.
“ I want Leyu. Give me Leyu.”
“ But little Anu,” Seime teased gently, “how can I do that? Do you want to check?”
They stood up and opened their arms and legs, then turned around.
“ Any Leyu in me? No. How can I give you what I don’t have, Anu? Nobody can do that.”
“ Where do people go when they die?”
There was a quiet hush. The question was heavy.
“ Go?” Seime frowned. “Nowhere.”
“ But everything goes somewhere. When I eat an apple it goes into my tummy. When I push a stone it moves down the slope.”
“ Anu, anu… such a… unique idea.”
It wasn’t a compliment.
“ Are you going to change too?”
“ Don’t be silly. I won’t change just because you’re talking nonsense.”
“ Was that why…”
Anu shivered. Had it been their fault?
“ I was talking nonsense to Leyu,” Anu admitted. “Was that why they died?”
“ Only Leyu knew,” Seime said. “Best to just forget about them. They’re not around anymore.”
“ I was talking about apples.”
“ Are you hungry? Should I get you some?”
“ Mmm, noooo. I just… If we put them in the cave they would last longer. Then we wouldn’t have to pick more up.”
“ We,” Seime said, pursing their lips. “Who’s this we? Are you going to spend tomorrow carrying apples?”
“ Um, I’m little. It would take me ages.”
“ So then you do not really mean we.”
“ Well, I meant… Maybe you and Rinu and…” They hiccuped again. “And Noon…”
“ Noon, do you want to carry apples tomorrow?” Seime asked.
Noon didn’t even look back. Their body tensed, just a little.
“ Rinu, do you want to carry apples tomorrow?” they asked again.
“ No.”
“ Me neither,” Seime said. “So, that’s that.”
“ But…”
“ That’s that, Anu. If you want to carry apples, you do it.”
“ If we all carry some…”
“ Anu, what is the matter with you? You’re not hungry. Why are you obsessing over apples?”
“ But a few days ago I was hungry, and there weren’t apples.”
“ And?”
“ And if we…”
Seime sighed. This was worse than they thought.
They clapped, and for a moment everyone raised their head and looked at Seime. They blushed, unused to being the centre of attention.
“ Story time. Have you ever heard about Silly Fixer?”
Anu shook their head.
“ That’s not one I know.”
“ I can tell.”
“ Once, long ago, there was a little one just like you, Anu. And just like you, they saw things that weren’t right right. And just like you, they thought maybe things could be… more right.”
Anu blinked, curious despite their frustration.
“ Silly Fixer didn’t like how the fire always went out at night. ‘What if we put more wood in while we sleep?’ they said. ‘Then we’ll always wake up warm.’”
“ Sounds smart,” Anu murmured.
Seime smirked. “It sounds smart, doesn’t it? But nobody wanted to do it. So Silly Fixer did it themselves. They gathered wood, night after night, stacking it carefully. It was so much work. But they kept at it, every day, while the others rested.”
Anu frowned. “What happened?”
Seime stretched their arms wide, making a show of it. “One day, there was so much wood, stacked so high, that when Silly Fixer tossed on a new log… whoosh! The flames grew too big! They scorched the night sky, turned the firepit into a monster. It ate up all the wood, ate up the air, and left nothing behind.”
Anu gasped.
“ Everyone woke up freezing. The fire was dead, Silly Fixer was exhausted, and do you know what everyone said?”
“ What?”
Seime grinned.
“ ‘Well, that was silly.’”
A few others laughed softly. Anu didn’t.
The fire crackled.
Anu sat very still.
It wasn’t a fair story. It didn’t mean anything.
But Seime wasn’t wrong, either.
“ And what happened to Silly Fixer? Did they change?”
Seime looked around. Leyu knew this part, but Leyu was dead. It was not fair to ask Noon to tell it.
“ Rinu? Take over?”
Rinu smiled.
“ Silly Fixer refused to change. They said just because their plan hadn’t worked once, didn’t mean it wouldn’t work again.”
“ But… didn’t people make fun of them?”
“ All the time,” Rinu said, immitating a child’s voice. “‘Silly Fixer doesn’t know, Silly Fixer has to go. Silly Fixer—’”
“ That’s mean!” Anu said.
“ Well, yes, but they could have changed. They didn’t.”
“ What did they do next, if they didn’t change?”
Noon sighed. They were the only ones who knew this part properly. Stories were alive, like Noon, like Anu. They could change, they could die. But it wasn’t enough to remember them word by word to keep them alive. They had to nestle against the people, too. Without that, they didn’t mean anything.
“ I’ll tell it.”
Anu’s eyes widened. They looked at Noon. Their heart quickened and they leaned slightly towards them.
“ I’ll listen,” Anu said.
Noon’s voice was steady, but something about it felt different from Leyu’s. Less teasing, less gentle. Heavier.
“ Silly Fixer knew they couldn’t change. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe they just didn’t want to. But this time, they were careful.”
Anu swallowed.
“ They gathered just a little wood each night. Not too much, not too fast. People still called them silly, but they didn’t stop. They made the fire last longer. They were happy.”
Anu’s lips parted slightly, hopeful.
“ But,” Noon said, quiet now, “then the rain came.”
A hush.
“ It rained for days. Nobody could find dry wood. And Silly Fixer… Silly Fixer thought this was their moment.”
Anu clutched their knees.
“ They showed everyone the wood they had saved. ‘Look,’ they said, ‘we have enough to last until the rain stops! We won’t be cold! We won’t be wet!’”
Noon exhaled, slow.
“ But do you know what happened?”
Anu shook their head.
“ Everyone said: Silly Fixer should have told us before.”
“ But—”
“ They said: Silly Fixer should have let us choose.”
Anu’s breath caught.
“ They said: Silly Fixer thinks they can tell us what to do.”
“ No,” Anu whispered.
“ And so,” Noon finished, “they let the fire die.”
Silence.
The story was over.
Anu looked at Noon.
“ And then?”
Noon met their eyes.
“ And then nothing,” they said. “Silly Fixer stayed Silly Fixer. The others stayed the others. The world went on.”
Anu frowned.
“ But… did they change?”
Noon tilted their head.
“ That,” they said, “depends on the ending.”
Anu sat very still.
And then they said, softly:
“ Tell me how it ends.”
Noon hesitated. It was late. They were tired.
“ There are many endings. There is a good ending, there is a bad ending.”
“ Tell me the good ending.”
“ The bad ending comes first.” They looked around, hoping someone else would take over, but they were all listening. It was uncomfortable to speak alone for so long. They might even change again.
“ Alright. Silly Fixer argued. Silly Fixxer said, ‘I told you.’ They said, ‘I asked for help every night.’ They said so many silly things, made a list—”
“ A list?”
“ It’s like a snake, first the head, then the body, then the tail?”
“ Yes?”
“ A list is like that. Rinu does. Seime does. Noon does. Little Anu does.” They slid a finger along the earth, drawing a snaky shape as they added to the list.
“ That’s silly,” Anu said.
Seime frowned. “Not always. Sometimes…” They stopped themselves. That wasn’t the lesson Anu needed today. “But this time? Yes, very silly. Nobody did those things. Didn’t want to.”
“ And so what did Silly Fixer do?”
“ Next time, when it was cold, Silly Fixer hid the wood.”
“ That’s mean.”
“ Then they said, if you want the wood, you follow the list. Rinu does. Seime does. Noon does. Little Anu does.” Their finger drew along the shape again.
“ But that’s not fair. The others were cold.”
“ Right, not fair. So the others piled up, cuddled close, and when Silly Fixer tried to join? They pushed them out.”
Anu gasped. That was so harsh. Even when Leyu died… no, don’t think about that. Noon had still gently nudged them of their lap. If someone pushed them away, Anu would cry. Anu would change so many times they would never remember Anu again.
“ So… Silly Fixer changed then.”
“ No, they died. Didn’t change.”
Noon watched them carefully. Their shoulders were tense. They didn’t like telling this story. It was too much like being Silly Fixer themselves.
Anu shivered. “They died?”
“ Yes.”
“ Not changed? Died? Only?”
“ Yes.”
“ But that’s… that’s mean. Bad.”
“ Sad.” Noon nodded. “That’s why it’s the bad ending.”
Anu curled up tighter.
“ I don’t like that ending.”
“ No one does.”
They sat in silence for a moment. The fire crackled, throwing flickers of light on their faces.
Then Anu whispered, “Tell me the good ending.”
Noon exhaled, slow.
“ Alright.”
They shifted, stretching out their legs, letting their body settle before they spoke again.
“ The good ending is simple,” they said. “The next time the cold came, and the wood was gone, the others saw Silly Fixer shivering, just like them.”
Anu swallowed.
“ They remembered how Silly Fixer had tried. They remembered the fire. They remembered the list.”
“ And?”
“ And so, the next time the fire was built, they gathered just a little more than they needed.”
Anu sat up straight.
“ Not everyone,” Noon said. “Not all at once.”
“ But some.”
“ Some.”
Anu’s voice was almost a whisper. “And what about Silly Fixer?”
Noon looked at them for a long moment.
Then they reached out and gently ruffled Anu’s hair.
“ Silly Fixer,” Noon said, “changed.”
“ But why! Sillly Fixer was right.”
“ Because,” Noon said.
“ Why? Tell me why!”
“ Because Silly Fixer made everyone feel bad. Silly Fixer made a list. Silly fixer told Rinu, ‘cut more wood’. Silly Fixer told Seime, ‘take the apples to the cave’. Silly fixer told Noon, ‘pile the wood around the fire’.”
“ But…”
“ Every time Silly Fixer spoke, the others listened. Every time Silly Fixer made a list, the others had to argue. ‘I want’, ‘I don’t want’, It was tiring. Nobody liked Silly Fixer.”
“ And… and that’s the good ending?”
“ That’s the good ending, little Anu.”
Anu stared at Noon. Their chest felt tight, like they swallowed something too big.
“ But they were right.”
Noon shrugged. “Maybe. But no one liked them.”
Anu thought about that. About Leyu, warm and teasing. About how they changed. About how Rinu’s lap wasn’t right, but neither was Seime’s.
Anu whispered, “I miss Leyu.”
Noon was quiet for a long time. Then they said, “I do too.”
The fire crackled. Somewhere in the dark, an apple fell from a tree.
Anu didn’t say anything else.
Tomorrow, the apples would still be there. The cave would still be empty.
Anu curled up, pressing their face into their arms.
Maybe—just maybe—tomorrow, they’d pick one up.