Looking through the album, I knew I wouldn’t smile like her were I to die as I was now.
As I continued to flip through the pages, it struck me that almost every picture had flowers in it. Roses, cornflower, irises, lilies, chamomile, hibiscus, peonies, jasmine, hibiscus—the list went on of flowers that decorated her hospital bed.
“Was it your wife who bought these flowers?” I asked Dr. Hendy, and he replied with a nod.
“That’s right. She used to buy them at flower shops or would tag along when I went to buy herbs. She was always trying something new with them, decorating them in different ways.”
“Mummy always bought the prettiest flowers.”
“Wow… That’s really impressive…”
But it didn’t help. I had no idea what kind of flowers Anna’s mother would’ve wanted. The more I thought about it, the more bewildered I became.
“Argh! Now I’m just confused!”
I began scratching my head—a habit of mine when I dealt with stress—and Dr. Hendy chuckled wryly.
“Maybe we should take a break. Let’s enjoy the tea you so kindly prepared for us.”
“Oh, I almost forgot about that…”
We reheated the water and placed the freshly roasted tea leaves in the kettle, steeping them for a few minutes before pouring three cups of tea. The moment the tea left the kettle, its rich aroma expanded throughout the kitchen.
“Oh wow! That smells sooo good!”
Anna looked at me with wide eyes that twinkled with happiness, and I smirked back at her.
“Right? Herbal tea is the best. I actually added a secret ingredient this time, too.”
“A secret ingredient?”
The sensation of the delicious tea filled my mouth and brought with it the smell of flowers. Then it hit me.
Pink snow, on a spring day, during warm weather, at the foot of a mountain.
If the flowers Anna’s mother used to decorate the house were for her husband and daughter, then that was the only flower worth giving back to her.
“Hey, Anna. Is your mum sleeping in a spot near here?”
“Uh-huh. It’s close by.”
“I’d like you to take me there.”
I smiled.
“I’ll show you the pink snow and the flowers your mum wanted to see again.”
It was a five-minute walk to the graveyard where Anna’s mother was buried.
“That’s one nice grave. Is this where your mum is sleeping?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I touched the gravestone, and Carbuncle, who was at my feet, nudged me with his nose curiously. There was something both lifeless and warm at the same time about the letters carved into the stone.
Beneath this spot lay death.
“I already know, really.”
“Hmm? Know what?”
“That Mummy isn’t ever gonna wake up again.”
Anna’s expression didn’t change in the slightest as she quietly murmured this. Her eyes were looking straight ahead, staring at something far away. It felt like she was holding back sadness that was trying to flow out.
“Oh, so you knew…”
She knew her mother was dead and that they would never meet again. That she wasn’t coming back. Anna knew everything but held it all in. Maybe she didn’t know exactly what death was, but she could tell what it meant.
“Hey, Miss Meg.”
“What’s up?”
“Do you think the world’s greatest witch could…maybe wake Mummy up?”
Bringing someone back to life—throughout magic’s long history, there were many mages who had devoted their lives to making this a possibility, but not one had succeeded.
It’s something my teacher had told me many times before: It’s arrogant to try to bring someone back to life. Magic is to know the flow of life and listen to the voice of reason. Therefore, we need to accept what we see before us, and must do what we can with what we have.
“No, there isn’t a mage who can wake your mother up.”
I didn’t know how to answer Anna, but I didn’t want to lie to her, nor did it feel like I should. I kept my eyes locked with hers and slowly continued.
“God has a plan for this world. It’s a plan that we can’t disobey. We call this fate.”
“You’re fated to die, Meg. It’ll happen in one year.”
“It was your mother’s fate to go to sleep when she did.”
I was telling this little girl the same thing my teacher had told me only a short while earlier. Ironically enough, by being the one having to say these things, I was slowly beginning to comprehend my own death.
“Would it be bad if I asked God to wake my mummy up?”
“Have you ever heard of a thing called a zombie?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know why they attack people?”
“No. Why?”
“Because someone woke them up from a deep sleep against their will. They’re actually just mad.”
“So Mummy would get mad if we woke her up?”
“Oh yeah, super mad. That’s why everyone is too afraid to wake them up. Even God.”
“Mummy’s too sleepy.”
“Well, just think of how hard she worked. She must be tired, so let her rest. That’s all people really want to do anyway.”
“People…”
“So, Anna. Even if we make flowers bloom for your mum, it won’t wake her up. Do you still want to make them bloom?”
“Yeah.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I think it’d make my mummy happy.”
Anna looked straight into my eyes as she said this.
“Before she went to sleep, she told me…”
“Told you what?”
“To take care of Daddy.”
My heart ached when I heard her say this.
“Daddy’s been really sad. He always looks at pictures of Mummy with a sad look on his face. So I think he’d be happy knowing Mummy was sleeping well.”
“Do you actually want to get these flowers for your dad?”
I asked Anna this, and she nodded coyly.
“I want Mummy to sleep tight and Daddy to feel better.”
Is that what’s going on here? This girl wanted to fulfill her promise to her mother and kept it all to herself. I’m sure she never thought she’d suddenly lose someone so important to her like this. Her mother is gone. And her father’s depressed. Anna came looking for Lady Faust knowing she had to do something but not what to do.