Kiko Lake, Off-Season

      "So, what do you think, Annie?"

      His sister repeated his sigh, momentarily wordless. Her lavender-framed glasses flashed back the dazzling brilliance of the lake, and added a sparkle that had recently been missing from her eyes. "I admit, I had my concerns," she told her brother, her voice brittle with age, "but now that we're here, I'll admit, I think you had a fine idea. Just fine."

      He patted her hand, then took up his cane once more. Artie and Annie; twin Ogrins born precisely four minutes apart; he the older, she the younger. At one point in time, the small difference had mattered. Or perhaps it still did, for Annie would always be his beloved little sister.

      Their mother had named them Arthur and Annette; fine, strong names that symbolized the hopes and dreams their mother had for them. They'd grown up together, fought together, and gotten into trouble — together. But there'd come a point in their lives when they were ready to strike out on their own. They'd become Art and Anne. He had opened a small shop in the Mystery Island Marketplace that specialized in island cuisine, and she had designed fashionable cold-weather outfits in Happy Valley. They'd kept in touch by mail, and the occasional visit, but mostly they'd lived their lives separately.

      Time, though, could not be halted. He felt the accumulated years in the aching of his knees, and the stiffness that had settled in the small of his back. When he began to have trouble reading the keys of his cash register, he'd gotten glasses. And when those same keys — from behind the thickness of his prescription lenses — began to blur, he'd sold his small shop for a tidy sum and began the long journey to Terror Mountain.

      Art had become Artie, and over the years they'd been apart, Anne had changed into Annie, with her eyesight worn from decades of threading needles and her feet kept warm inside dowdy house slippers. Now she crocheted instead of sewed, and together they'd sat by her warm fireplace, and talked about their youth and such adventures as they'd not yet set out on. Artie and Annie; together, they could do anything. Together, the world wasn't such a frightening place.

      "Let's stroll down the pier," Artie said, taking the first slow step forward. Arm in arm they went, careful of the uneven footing of the rough-cut timber that made up the deck. They took their time, and stopped to talk to a painter busily capturing on canvas the boats that skimmed the jewel-blue surface of the lake.

      "How lovely," Annie told the Peophin artist, bending low to take a closer look at his oil painting. "Such life-like colors. I thought," her breath caught as she straightened, then evened out, "that there would be more of a crowd along the pier. With so much to see..."

      The Peophin daubed a smear of pigment on his canvas, highlighting the soft grey of a sail. "There's crowds in the summer, certainly. Tourists by the droves, and I paint scenes on driftwood for them. Souvenirs to take back home, to remember their vacations by. Honestly, I prefer the off-season. It can be hard to admire the view through the crowds." He swirled his brush in a tin can filled with turpentine, then beat it dry on the leg of his easel. "You're here a bit late for the garden expo."

      "I'd say we're a bit early for next summer," Artie replied, sharing a look with his sister. "Like I told Annie: No time like the present." He chewed at his lips, watching the Peophin mix browns and ochres on his palate. "Yeah," he said softly as they moved on, walking step-in-step with his sister, his cane tapping a familiar rhythm.

      "There's no time, but the present."

      ***

      They'd rented a cottage, right on the lake shore; a cottage the spitting image of the gingerbread houses their mother used to make each holiday season. The sight of it alone was enough to fill his nostrils with the sugary warm smell of fresh baked cookies; of ginger and cloves, citron and allspice. He could tell it was the same for Annie, the way she sniffed wistfully at the autumn breeze before carefully placing the recollection back on the well-dusted shelves of her memory.

      Annie had needed a bit of a nap after their stroll along the pier, so he'd seen her to their covered front porch, good-naturedly ribbing her as he helped her up the low steps. "Now Annie," he'd said, covering his own labored breathing behind a chuckle, "I can understand the need for beauty sleep, but which pageant were you planning on entering?"

      "Oh," Annie blushed, dusky rose blossoming across her cheeks. "Away with you! I just need to rest my eyes a bit."

      "Of course, Annie. Of course."

      While she rested he made his way down the cobbled street to Kiko Lake Carpentry. A little brass bell gave a merry chime as he opened the door to the business, alerting the shopkeeper to a potential customer. "Hello?" Artie called, shuffling down rows filled with all manner of knickknacks and curiosities. "How strange..." He reached out, picking up a delicately patterned picture frame. "I never knew there could be so many uses for coral."

      "It's a specialty of ours." A Kiko, the same nutty beige hue as a young sapling, walked out from behind a tall curio cabinet, slapping sawdust from his gloved hands. "Sorry 'bout the wait; I was busy back in the shop." He stopped next to Artie, and held out his hand. "Name's Conelly. I do most of the woodworking around these parts, while my partner does his best work in coral."

      "Artie." He shook the Kiko's hand, satisfied with his firm grip. "My sister and I are renting a cottage at the edge of town." He returned the picture frame to its place amongst the merchandise. "Thought I'd come in, take a look around. I must say, your furniture is impressive."

      "Ah, but not quite what you were expecting." Conelly scratched at his cheek, leaving a pale streak in the fine dust covering his face. "Mostly the coral pieces are for the tourists. It's lightweight, and travels well if it's packaged properly. Tell you what," he said, as he beckoned Artie towards the workshop at the back of the store. "I've been caught up in a project I think might interest you. Take a look, and let me know."

      Two steps into the workshop Artie stopped, leaning his weight upon his cane. "Oh, my," he said, a smile wreathing his face. "I hadn't actually known what I was looking for... But this is it. Exactly what I've been needing." He gripped Conelly's shoulder, and gave it a hearty shake. "You sly devil, bringing me back here. So, what's your price?"

      ***

      "Okay, lads," Artie directed the two young Kikos Conelly had sent with him to handle the delivery. "Right there, up on the porch. Not too far back mind you; I want Annie to be able to see the water."

      "Artie?" The front door of the cottage cracked open, and his sister peered through the screen door shyly. "What's the racket? I was just up from my nap, fixing a cup of tea..." Spotting her brother, she unlatched the screen and stepped through the doorway, the pocket of her fuzzy orange robe catching briefly on the handle as she made her way past. "I know that grin; you've been up to something..."

      "Never could keep a secret from you!" He slipped his arm beneath her elbow and gradually turned her around. "So, tell me what you think, Annie," he said, waving off the delivery boys. "An old man's folly, or an old woman's pleasure?"

      Annie stared at the two wooden rocking chairs now on the porch, both polished to a lustrous, rich gold and carved with the likenesses of leaves and berries. "You didn't..." Trembling, she sat down in the nearest chair, marveling at the warm, smooth finish of the arms. "You did..." She settled back in the chair, her head resting lightly against the embellished top rail. With the slightest push of her toes, she began rocking. "It's so comfortable," she marveled as the gentle motion soothed muscles strained by years spent hunched over her sewing. "Wherever did you find them?"

      "It's more like they found me." Artie sat down next to his sister, and together they watched as fantastically-shaped pedalos moved across the lake. "I had a fine rocker made from bamboo, back on the island. Got to missing it, I guess."

      "Well, they're perfect." Annie's fingers flexed against the arms of her chair, unused to idleness. "I can sit out here with my crocheting, and admire the lake at the same time. You could read the paper."

      "Already ahead of you. I stopped by the newsstand on the way back home, and got us a subscription to the Neopian Times. Delivery should start tomorrow."

      Annie smiled fondly at her brother. "Always thinking ahead. Well. Let me finish my tea, then what do you say to walking down to the beach? I packed my swimsuit; seems a shame not to use it, now that we're here."

      "That it does." Artie struggled to his feet, holding tightly to his cane to keep his balance. "Might as well change, myself. A little wading sounds good. The day's warmed up, hasn't it?" His eyes twinkled as he hunched his shoulders forward. "What do you say, Annie? Race you to the beach? Last one in the water cooks dinner?"

      She shook her head in mock exasperation, accepting her brother's help in standing. "Ock. I'm sure I'll be cooking, regardless! Do you remember the time you set the kitchen curtains on fire, in your attempt to boil water for noodles? Goodness gracious, the look on Mom's face when she came home to a house filled with smoke and soot."

      Artie remembered; remembered it as though it had happened yesterday, instead of decades ago. "Mom was just thankful the both of us were safe. Although she never did lift the ban against me using the stove." He rubbed the head of his cane ruefully; it had been years since he'd last thought of the incident. "You're right, though, Annie. Best if you do the cooking — and I'll stick with the eating."

      His sister nudged his side with gentle humor as he walked past her into the house. "You do that. It's always best to stick to your strengths, brother-mine."

      ***

      Annie had waded out into the cool water of the lake as soon as they'd made their way down to the shore. Artie thought it a charming sight, his sister in her large, fancy sun hat and modest bathing suit covered in ripe, red strawberries against a backdrop of tranquil blue water. As soon as she had entered the lake, though, she'd gained company. Young Kikos paddled joyfully around her, thrilled with their newest playmate.

      "Now, my dear," Annie cooed, smearing sunscreen on the youngest Kiko's upturned face. "It's a wonderful, bright day, and you don't want to ruin your fun by getting sunburn. There you go, sweetling."

      Artie watched them, Annie and the children. He'd settled himself on a large, rough-spun blanket a few yards from shore, beneath the drooping branches of a willow tree. After much splashing and squeals of delight, his sister bid good-bye to the frolicking Kikos and made her way out of the water. When she got close enough, he handed her an over-sized towel that she draped around her shoulders.

      "For all the warmth of the day, the lake still has a bit of bite," Annie said, rubbing her arms briskly with the towel. "Not nearly as icy as the glacier lakes back home — but cold enough to chatter my teeth!" She sat down next to him, and waved back at the young Kikos as they ducked under the water, headed back to their aquatic homes. "A nice, steaming mug of hot chocolate would hit the spot; chase the cold from these old bones."

      "Hot chocolate, is it?" Artie chewed at his lips as an idea came to mind. "Well, we haven't had a chance to go grocery shopping as of yet. The glass bottomed boat, however, is just down the beach there." He pointed to the boat, where it was moored to a well-maintained wooden dock. "We could give it a whirl, Annie. The brochure says the tour lets out right in front of Kiko Lake Treats. If there's any place guaranteed to have cocoa, it would be a treat shop."

      "That sounds like a splendid idea." Annie wrung moisture from her hair, and beamed at her brother. "Let's head back to the cottage to change—"

      "Back to the cottage? Where's the adventure in that?" Artie shook his head, and began struggling to his feet with the help of his cane. "Throw on your cover-up. I'm sure the boat's captain has dealt with far worse than a couple of elderly tourists gadding about in their bathing suits." Sound on his feet, he offered his hand to his sister.

      Gratefully accepting her brother's help, Annie's smile flickered uncertainly. "Are you sure? It doesn't seem quite proper..."

      "We've been proper all our lives. I think it's high time to let our hair down." He raised one hand, and ran it through the short, grayed hairs along the back of his neck before giving a rueful chuckle. "What's left of it, at least!"

      ***

      The tour guide helped them step down into the boat, keeping a firm grasp on their arms until both were seated on the plush, green bench next to the captain's chair. "Didn't think I'd get a customer today," the disco Kiko said, easing the boat out into open water. "Not that I mind. Since there's no one signed up for the next tour, we can take our time, yeah?"

      Annie had been staring at the Kiko since he'd first welcomed them aboard, and now she gave a small, happy gasp. "Why, you're Ditan Colb! I knew I recognized you! Whatever are you doing here, playing tour guide? Shouldn't you be off training for next year's Cup?"

      Artie had thought the disco Kiko looked familiar — but leave it to his Yooyuball obsessed sister to know a star player by sight. "Now, Annie; is that any kind of question to be asking?"

      "It's all right." Ditan gave a philosophical shrug, his hands never leaving the steering wheel. "I'm actually kinda shocked to be recognized — but it's a happy surprise." He gave them a lazy smile, adding a wink that set Annie to blushing. "As for training... Naw. Sure, the team gets together in the spring; management runs a camp and all that. But playing in the Altador Cup, it takes a lot from you, ya know? All that pressure, and the media frenzy... The hype and expectations wear ya down. So much so, that when we get back home, it's nice to just sit back, and find our place in the world again, instead of always pushing against it."

      "But, the boat..." Annie worried at the edges of her cover-up. "Why — this?"

      "Why not?" With a deft flick of his wrist, Ditan brought the boat to a stop. "Usually, it's a cousin of mine that runs the business, but he's off to the Bazaar at Neopia Central today to pick up supplies. So I told him I could fill in. I mean, how could I turn down the best job in all of Neopia?"

      "Seems a bit of a step down, after being a top-ranked defender," Artie said, though his voice lacked conviction.

      "Naw, man." Ditan swiveled his chair, and pointed towards the glass bottom of the boat. "What could top getting to see my home from up here? Best sight in all the wide world."

      "Oh my..." Annie carefully sank to her knees, and peered down through the thick glass at the city rising majestically from the bottom of the lake. "It's like something the faeries would dream of. Look, Artie! Look at the coral gardens. A rainbow — an underwater rainbow." She sighed wistfully, her hand pressed against the glass in yearning. "I suppose it's too late, for me to take up diving."

      Feeling his sister's pain at an opportunity lost, Artie wrapped his arms around her in a reassuring hug. "It's never too late, Annie. I promise you, by the end of the week, you'll have shopped along the city's high street. Why, diving should be a snap for the lady that managed to knit a scarf for the Snowager!"

      His sister returned his hug with gratitude. "Well, yes, that was a chore. And you're right; there's absolutely nothing keeping me from learning a new skill. But Ditan," she asked as she made her way back to the bench, "how can you stand coming up here, when you could spend all your time below?"

      Ditan swung his arm wide, encompassing the surrounding alpine forest and the towering mountains. "Smell that breeze? Sure, Kikos may be creatures of the water — but even we have to surface, for a breath of fresh air."

      ***

      Artie dug into the clam chowder he'd ordered, while Annie licked at the whipped cream topping her mug of hot chocolate. "You sure you don't want some?" he asked his sister, tearing off a strip of bread from the hollowed, round loaf of sourdough the soup had been served in.

      "Perhaps later." His sister gave a sleepy nod, and cradled the peppermint-striped mug in her hands, letting the warmth leach into her fingers. "It's so relaxing in here," she said, taking a slow sip. "Smells like a box of chocolates." Closing her eyes, she gave a dreamy smile. "Exactly like a box of chocolates, just opened. Remember, when we bought one as a gift for Mom? We saved up for weeks, and between the three of us we finished it the very day we gave it to her."

      "I remember." Chuckling, Artie pushed away from the table and patted his comfortably full stomach. "I think Mom got all of three pieces, and we took care of the rest. —I'll be back in a moment, Annie. I hear the treats up in the display case calling my name."

      The purple Kiko manning the counter of the shop gave him a friendly smirk as he perused the selection of whimsical confections. "Back for more?" she asked, while she briskly stirred a bowl of cooling pecan fudge. "A bite of dessert to finish your meal?"

      "I find myself with a bit of a sweet tooth at that," he told her, letting his cane support more of his weight while he tried to decide. "Everything looks so delicious. What would you recommend?"

      "I've got just the thing," the Kiko said, as she deftly poured the fudge out over a frozen marble slab. "There. That'll keep for a minute. Now..." She beckoned him towards the end of the counter, where an oddly rounded contraption took pride of place. "Kiko candy floss! It's pretty unique. Most sugar comes from sugar cane, or sugar beets, but at Kiko Lake we get our sugar from the roots of an aquatic flower that only grows here. I do believe that ours is the sweetest sugar in the world! I use it in all my baking, but I think the flavor comes out best in candy floss."

      She poured a spoonful of pale blue sugar into the small perforated bowl at the center of the contraption, then gave its attached handle a solid crank. While the center of the antique device spun, she picked up a slender wooden stick and began running it along the inside edges. A fine filament of spun sugar caught on the wood, and she moved the stick to a horizontal position, constantly twirling it between her fingers. In seconds it was covered in a fluffy cloud of sparkling blue candy floss. Stopping the whirling device with one hand, she handed the treat to Artie.

      "There you go!"

      Delighted, Artie took the freshly made candy floss back to his sister. "Well, Annie, what do you think?" he asked her, placing his offering on the table between them. "Do you feel like sharing with me now?"

      "Candy floss!" Annie cried, moving her empty cocoa mug to the side. "It's been ages!" She picked a tuft of spun sugar off the stick and lifted it to her mouth, letting the candy dissolve upon her tongue. With a girlish giggle she licked sticky sweetness from her lips, and reached for more.

      Artie loved his sister's laugh. The first time their mother had taken them to the Roo Island Merry Go Round, Annie had given that precise giggle. She'd chosen to ride the cloud carousel Uni, and he'd been behind her on the green Uni. Annie had clung to the bright brass pole, and each time the Uni began its journey up she'd laughed, clear and joyous as the whistling calliope nearby.

      Alone in his shop on Mystery Island, he'd yearned for those bygone days with his sister. Today, they were reunited — and his world was a far better place now that it echoed once more with the sounds of Annie's laughter. Artie pulled off a piece of floss and savored it.

      He wondered if tourists, during the height of summer, got freshly-made candy floss. Sharing the treat with his sister as they meandered their way back to the cottage, with twilight dyeing the skies indigo behind them — he doubted it.

      ***

      He'd been dreaming. Dreaming of long ago days, or of yesterday, he couldn't quite remember. Only the field of bright, fall flowers remained vivid in his mind. Stretching, he rolled over, but was interrupted by the hand patting his shoulder.

      "What is it, Annie?" he asked, hiding a yawn behind his hand.

      "It's morning, Artie," she told him, ruffling his sleep-mussed hair. "The tea's ready, and I've got danish for us to share. Come join me on the porch."

      "But it's still dark," he complained as he climbed out of bed. He pulled on his robe and shuffled outside, joining his sister in the rocking chairs. "What's got into you this morning?" Accepting a cup of tea from Annie, he blew softly across the top of the scalding liquid, causing wisps of steam to dance with wild abandon.

      "I didn't think you'd want to miss the sunrise."

      Together they sat, and watched as the sun cleared the mountains, streamers of liquid light chasing away the purple shadows of night. Golden beams touched the placid surface of Kiko Lake and were reflected, until the entire valley was awash in dazzling light.

      "So, what should we do today?" his sister asked, passing him a raspberry-filled pastry.

      "Whatever we want, Annie," he told her, taking in a deep breath that smelled of evergreen and berries and the faintest hint of gingerbread. "We can do whatever we want....

      "We've all the time in the world."

The End