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“On the day we honor Auntie Shourentameta’il, no less. And now you have nearly ruined the cake! Pass that bag, young lady.”
Raela ducked her head under her auntie’s swinging arm as she pointed. Reaching for the small canvas bag of almond flour, she passed it over. “Yes, Auntie Mo.”
“Do not dishonor your aunties with your laziness. Say the whole prayer.”
“Yes, Auntie Motukalatabeli.”
She lowered the spoon she’d been threatening Raela with. “Better. Your Auntie Torulonmana’at is getting straw. She says the roof leaked last night.” Raela opened her mouth to mention the man she had seen, but her auntie shook a wooden spoon at her, more like a weapon than a stirring device. “Ah-ah, no talking back now. Get the handkerchiefs ready for her. You know how she is on this day.”
Raela did. Auntie Toru would be a walking puddle today—the day they remembered and honored the third sister, Auntie Shourentameta’il, who had disappeared years before. Her aunties said that she would be back any day now, but it had been almost eleven years and she hadn’t returned. The familiar wave of guilt caused Raela's throat to constrict.
Raela had only been seven, so the memories of her auntie were not as sharp as she wished, but she could still see Auntie Shou’s enormous smile, feel her hugs, and hear her singing. She remembered how her auntie’s mischief always got them both into trouble with Auntie Mo.
She loved her other two aunties, really, she did. But with one bossy and one morose, Raela missed the lightness and laughter of Auntie Shou—ach, Shourentameta’il, she corrected herself. Auntie Mo was right. Today of all days was the day to say her whole name—to pray the facets of her character.
Raela set stacks of facial cloths throughout the main room, using a dampened one to help Auntie Mo clean up the mess of flour. Her auntie bustled down from her stool, grabbed the nearest cookbook, and set the book flat on Raela’s head. She was always strict with her lessons on grace and balance. Auntie Mo pushed her stool to the cupboards, struggling on tiptoes to reach the shelf above the window. Smoothly rising, Raela grabbed the sugar for her auntie.
“Oh, to have legs like trees!” Auntie Mo exclaimed. “Instead, the Spirit made me look like a stack of bread rolls.” She sighed. “No matter. Each body to its purpose. You must be needed to clean the dust and rafters.” Auntie Mo tossed the feather duster toward Raela from the counter. “Yes, indeed.”
Raela huffed a laugh as she began to clean. Subtlety was not one of Auntie Mo’s strengths. As she dusted the cabinets and shelves, the door burst open behind her revealing a walking cluster of grass pushing through the doorway.
Auntie Mo screeched. “Torulonmana’at, donotbring that in here. Don’t you dare!”
Raela gaped at the door. Billowing straw, four feet tall, towered above the two tiny legs of her auntie. The woman’s dress snagged on the grasses and piled up in the front, baring her spindly calves and falling stockings. Her small arms barely reached around the bunch, her arthritic joints pale from the force of her clasping. Behind the grasses, a muffled and warbly voice whined, “But why not? Where shall I place them, then?” Auntie Toru shuffled in a step and wailed, “It’swindyoutside!”
Auntie Mo gestured to the table, though Auntie Toru couldn’t see it. “I’m cooking!”
“Aw, Momo…”
Auntie Mo whipped out her threatening spoon again. “Don’t you Momo me. Get out!”
“Don’t yell.” Auntie Toru sniffed. “Not today.” The grasses shook with her hiccupping, exaggerated sobs, shivering like a baby snake’s rattle. Auntie Mo cast Raela an exasperated glance.
Nodding, Raela slipped beside Auntie Toru, reaching down to set her hand on the woman’s bony shoulder. “Come on, Auntie, let’s go get that roof fixed. The bramblebushes will help protect these from the wind while we work.”
Auntie Toru shuffled backward, waving the grasses above her as she struggled out the door. Bits of straw scraped the frame and fluttered to the threshold. Raela would be sweeping that up later. Auntie Toru nodded her head against the stalks. “The wind likes you, Raela. Why can’t the wind like me too. I’m a nice lady.”
“You are, Auntie. The nicest.”
Finally freed from the small doorway, they turned toward the back of the cottage. Raela heard Auntie Mo mutter, “For someone who should know things, she’s as thick as those very stones …”
Raela reached up and shuffled the grasses with her fingertips so that Auntie Toru wouldn’t hear, then she reached out with her magic, and the wind followed behind, scooting discarded pieces of grass that had fallen from Auntie Toru’s arms and pushing them forward to keep up with their steps. Raela smiled and whispered to the wind, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for noticing my hard work!” Auntie Toru dumped the pile beside the thick bramblebushes that lined the southern edge, revealing her waifish form. Taller than Auntie Mo, she still only stood just above Raela’s elbow. Her sweet, little aunties. Auntie Toru brushed her hands over the stack. “At leastsomeoneacknowledges my contributions to our home. At leastsomeonethanks me. At least—”
“Where was the leak?” Raela asked, trying to divert her auntie from her ruminating.
“It was … It …” Her eyes filled with tears.Oh no. Raela braced herself.Diversion failed. “It was over her rooooooooooom.” Auntie Toru wailed and clasped her knobby fingers against her lids. Water now poured from them in impossible rivulets.
“There, there, Auntie.” Raela patted her pockets but found she had left her tissues inside. “Ach.” Small paws patted at her dress from behind. A little white rabbit held a leaf from a fuzzy lamb’s ear plant in its mouth. “Thank you.” Raela took it and dabbed at her auntie’s cheeks. At her touch, her auntie whipped the leaf from her hand and honked her running nose into the makeshift tissue. She passed it back to Raela, who accepted it with a grimace.
“You are the dearest. Just look at you. You look just like her.” The edges of Auntie Toru’s eyes brimmed with water ready to fall again. Raela didn’t think she looked anything like her missing auntie. From what she could remember, her auntie’s chaotic white hair had stuck up in a thousand directions like dandelion fuzz. Nothing like Raela’s long yellow strands.
It was time to refocus. “Okay, Auntie Toru. Let’s fix things up.”
Auntie Toru nodded. “Yes. She would have liked that.” Her lip wobbled.
“The twine, Auntie?”
