Return of Candlemass and Story Time

To my barrage of questions, Candlemass listened patiently, and patted my face indulgently. He told me he'd been out on an extended patrol, which took him very far away from here. He did things and saw things which made him think he'd never see happiness, or even the light of day again. But then, there would always be a new day, and more work to be done.



He told me that as an exemplary Punisher, he had to uphold his village in every way, which also meant preventing danger that might come to them, which was the reasoning behind the patrol.

He told me that every day, he'd always looked forward to seeing me at the end of his patrol, and the thought made his life easier. He was happier that I was older, and more able to understand what was happening, but disappointed I'd forgotten the training he'd put me through.

It had been exemplary training, he'd said, and he frowned like an old man to a child. It was really the funniest thing, especially on someone as young-looking as him. But he was going to start a refresher course as soon as possible, and whatever I'd forgotten, he would hammer back into my head.

We talked a little bit about my life after that. I told him about my paranormal inclinations, and he seemed happy I was at least keeping on my toes about the stuff. There is a lot of new stuff in the world to protect ourselves against, he said. It's almost like reading the digest for the year.

When he left, he gave me another kiss on my forehead, and said he'd be back soon.

I am still so happy that I cry a little randomly now and then. I know, it sounds stupid, but now that Candlemass is back, I really feel like I'm home again.

02-23-12

As I thought, Candlemass came back as I was sleeping last night. I was too tired to wake up and play, but I could feel him patting my hair and whispering rhymes like he used to.

When I woke up this morning, he was still here, sleeping in my desk chair, head thrown back, legs in front of him. In the morning light, he looked much different than last night.

I was worried that Candlemass could have been a stress-induced hallucination my brain conjured to help me. But I think the changes he underwent helped convince me otherwise.

His cloak is pretty worn now- I'm almost wondering if he hasn't gotten it replaced now, and the rope he keeps on his belt is different.

I hadn't wanted to wake him up, but when he sensed me watching him, he blinked awake and sat up.

We talked a bit about some random things. He told me he was happy to see me again, and I told him I was amazed he even came back. I asked him if he should report in his village, and he said he already had before he got here.

A little further in the conversation, I did ask him about photographs, and he looked concerned. No, he didn't want to be photographed, it was dangerous as a Punisher. I asked him if writing about him was okay, and he eased up, and said a little grudgingly if it was me, he couldn't help it.

We talked some more about the old days, and the stuff we used to do together. He has a lot more memories about this stuff than I do.

One of the stories he remembered that I didn't involved, I think, a part of my "training". I live in a pretty rural area in my state, so there's a lot of abandoned, old houses up here.

One of them is next to the playground I used to go to as a young kid, and at thirteen, I'd pretty much stopped going.

Of course, I did think abandoned houses were really cool.

Candlemass told me abruptly one night that we were going to go there and check it out. He listened gravely to my protests that it was someone's private property, that going inside was trespassing, and basically just waited until I said I would go.

In old houses, people's memories would coagulate and create things that were harmful to living people, and to broaden my sense of communal well-being, dragged me down to see.

He remembered the night had been a hot, humid summer night with the crickets and frogs singing (peepers and creakers is what he called them), and I had been quiet and excited. He'd held my hand all the way down to the house, and had stood in the back lawn in the darkness with me.

I had been afraid, he said, because I'd always been afraid of the dark, and he held me close with one arm. He remembered he was proud that I didn't shake or cry.

He knew we were in the right place, because it was completely silent. Soon, one of the things had come slinking out (I do remember this part, but I thought it had been some sort of weird daydream); it looked like a small human, walking on it's hands and feet with its arms and legs splayed out like a crab. It's eyes shone like a animal's caught in headlights at night, even though there was no light to catch it.

Candlemass said even though I had been very scared, I hadn't run away, and I kept asking what I should do. I couldn't do anything, of course, but he lit it up.

I kind of wonder if we didn't initiate some false calls to the fire department with our night outings.