Hazel - A look at her younger years

There was a certain amount of isolation that came with who Hazel was. From the time she could walk, she had been put to work in her mother's shop, carrying bundles of herbs back and forth, climbing up on the counters, and making tonics.  Malcolm had already decided the type of her person their mother was, and had mostly found a way to stay outside and out of her view until dinner. Hazel, however, wanted to help. She asked most days. And Lucinda took that as a sign that she finally had a daughter who was just like her.

At first, Hazel didn’t think much of it. She still ran around the market with Malcolm when she got the chance. She had met Milo and struck up a friendship with him. And she had a wonderful little cat that wouldn’t leave her side. But as she grew older, life became more isolating. It became unfulfilling. Though, that was all something she wouldn’t admit to herself for years to come.

“I’m telling you, we should all get a house together. Somewhere far away in the market. Above some of the food stalls. I’ll steal breakfast every morning.” Milo was fifteen and gangly, his hair wild around his face. Sitting up on the ledge of the current rooftop they were on, his feet dangled over one side.

“I’m happy where I’m at,” Hazel tried to tell him. She felt almost compelled to do so. To defend her mother. Malcolm certainly wasn’t going to.

“Is that why you were crying when I picked you up today?” Malcolm was drawing in the corner, his long hair hanging lank around him. He was angrier these days. Hunching over his notepad and trying to scribble away the rest of the world.

Milo looked at Hazel with obviously concern. “You were crying? I’ll kill her, Haze. I will.”

“I wasn’t crying.” She was. But not for the reasons they probably thought. Most likely, they assumed Lucinda. They always assumed Lucinda. And maybe that was for the best. After all, they had their secrets, why couldn’t she have hers.

“Your eyes were red, and you had stains on the front of your blouse.” Malcolm tore the page from his sketchbook and tossed it over the side of the building.

If Hazel was closer, she would have tried to catch it.

“What did Lucinda do now?” Hopping off the ledge, Milo came to sit with her on the blanket. His knuckles were bruised, one of them split open. Hazel wondered how many fights Malcolm and him were getting into when they left her at night.

“She’s been good,” Hazel tried to argue. “It’s been a productive month at the shop, and so she’s been really happy lately. I think next moon she’s going to let me try to brew some of my own tonics.” Hazel had a few in mind. Nothing too big. Just ones to help with anxiety. Overcoming fear.  She had been after Lucinda for close to a year to offer something mild to the clientele. So far, her mother only dealt in curses.

“She’s never going to let you,” Malcolm muttered.

As Hazel deflated, Milo shot her brother a look. “Would you fuck off? Just because you’re bitter doesn’t mean you have to infect your sister with it.”

Malcolm only raised his middle finger in response before going back and furiously drawing on a fresh sheet of paper.

Hazel stared down at her lap. A grey kitten was curled there, purring loudly. She took Mr. Billows with her everywhere now. Mostly because she was afraid of leaving him home alone. He hadn’t seemed to get much bigger over the years, which Hazel never questioned, but it did make it harder for Hazel to leave him.

“I think it’s really cool that you want to do that,” Milo told her. “You could help a lot of people.”

Hazel sniffed a little. “Yeah. I– I think it would honestly go really well. And maybe we could get some of the curses off the shelves. Some of them are so old I don’t think they’re all that effective anymore.”

“You’re going to make a really good shop owner one day.”

“If mom will let me have the shop.”

Milo scooted closer, wrapping his arm around her. When Mr. Billows growled, he stuck his tongue out at the cat. “Start your own damn shop. I’ll help you, you know. I’ll build it with my own two hands if I have to.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” She picked at Mr. Billow’s collar.

“Are you okay? You’ve seemed a little off this week.”

She was fine. Of course she was fine. There were so many people in the world that were worse off than her. Who was Hazel to complain that she was completely invisible and that no one ever saw her and that she would probably live with her mother forever and never find love and–

“Whoa,” Milo curled her closer. “You’re doing that panic breathing thing. Slow down.”

Hazel hadn’t even realized she had been doing it. Swallowing thickly, she looked down, realizing she was gripping the cat. Milo, in turn, was gripping her.

“What’s up, sis?” Milo asked. He shot a look over at Malcolm, but he seemed to be absorbed in what he was doing.

“I,” she swallowed thickly. “I met someone.”

Milo stiffened at her side. “Oh?”

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he protested.

The idea of Hazel dating someone always sent Malcolm into a tizzy. And for a while, Milo seemed to take great joy out of teasing her if she even remotely thought someone was cute. She hadn’t wanted to tell them for that exact reason.

“You will, though. And I’ll let you know it already hasn’t worked out.”

Milo’s face softened at that. “I’m sorry,” he said, somewhat genuinely. “What happened?”

For a moment, Hazel wasn’t going to tell him. For a moment, she was going to be strong and say it was none of his business. But instead, she flung herself forward, burying her face into Mr. Billow’s fur. The cat squirmed.

“They don’t even know I exist!” she cried.

Out of all the responses, that wasn’t what Milo had expected. “They? More than one? Or they as in not male or female they.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I never got close enough to figure it out. And I’m certainly not going to ask.”

“Wait. Hazel. Where did you even see this person?”

“A few times in the market. I can’t describe it, Milo. I just felt an instant connection with them. My heart started racing, and my entire body felt flush. I– I think things at night.”

“Okay, you don’t need to go that far.”

“But I do!” she yelled.  “Okay, maybe I don’t. Is it creepy that I’m having lustful thoughts about a stranger?”

From across the roof, Malcolm shifted. He had been diligently trying not to listen to anything the two of them were saying. An impossibility given the volume of their voices.  

“I uh– I don’t think… lust isn’t…” Milo’s cheeks were pink. “Okay, this is weird to talk to you about.”

“You tell me about your sexual conquests all the time.”

“Yeah. But they are at least people I’ve introduced myself to.” Upon seeing the embarrassment on Hazel’s cheeks, he scooted back a little, rubbing a hand across his face. “Okay, look. Why don’t you just go up to this person, yeah? Introduce yourself.”

Hazel had never once in her life been able to accomplish something as dangerous as that. Outside of Milo and Malcolm, she didn’t really talk to anyone that wasn’t a customer.  To go up to a stranger felt unattainable. Like she was doing something wrong.

“It’s okay,” she said with defeat. “I’m sure it's not important anyway.”

That seemed to get Milo. Because whenever Hazel got down on herself in this kind of situation, he saw a little too much of himself at the moment. “No. You know what? We are going to find this they and introduce you two.”

From the corner, Malcolm rolled his eyes but continued to say nothing.

“What do they look like?” he asked.

Hazel thought about it for a long moment. A simple question in the end, but one that she found she couldn’t quite grasp.  “They are wonderful,” she said quietly. “They have the stars in their eyes. They seem to shift with the waves of time. Eternal, even.”

“That’s not a descriptor,” Malcolm finally piped up, putting aside his paper. 

Hazel huffed. “I don’t really know, okay? They just… it’s a feeling. An all encompassing feeling. Like being embraced by the night sky.”

“Done.” Milo said.

“What?”

He was standing, getting ready to jump off the side of the roof. “I’m going to go find them for you.”

“Milo, you can’t just–” but he was gone. Because Milo Next was nothing but efficient. At least until he got bored.

Hazel sighed, cuddling her cat closer. There was a part of her that hoped. Maybe Milo could find the nameless person. Maybe she would get a chance to learn their name. To say hello. To feel their hand in hers.

“You realize you’ll have to leave mom, right?”

She looked up. Malcolm’s face was twisted in cruelty. One born from a lifetime of never having anything good come his way.

“What do you mean?”

“If you find someone to love. You’ll have to leave mom. She’ll never let you go.”

Hazel shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to talk about Lucinda. “Why do you care? I thought you didn’t believe in love.”

“I don’t. But you are idealistic. You do. So I’m just stating to you, that this might be best left to a dream. Because you won’t leave mom. You’ll always find an excuse to stay.”

In her lap, Billows rumbled with a growl. “I can have both,” Hazel whispered.

Malcolm snorted in laughter. “Yeah. Sure you can.”

“Look, I know that mom was mean to you and I get that you think yourself undeserving of love or whatever, but that’s not me. I am deserving of it.”

“Then why won’t you leave the shop without Milo or I,” he shot back. “You’ve isolated yourself. You’ve chosen to be her daughter over yourself.  Don’t pretend like someone coming into your life is going to sweep you off your feet. You’ll sabotage it just like you do everything else if it means having to stand up to our mother.”

Hazel shot to her feet, feeling the tears prick her eyes. Billows was full on hissing down, claws digging into Hazel’s shoulder.  “You are just a lonely individual, Malcolm. That’s all. Don’t take your hatred out on me.”

He grabbed at his sketchbook, his face a mask of anger as he flipped open to a new page. “Go find your starry night, Hazel. Tell me how that goes. I’m sure mom would love to have them over for dinner.”

Hazel felt the tears fall as she left the rooftop.  He was right. It was the little voice in her head that kept telling her that he was absolutely right. She wasn’t strong enough to go off on her own. She wasn’t even good enough to attract anyone. What would it matter if Milo found this person by some miracle? Hazel wouldn’t talk to them. She knew she wouldn’t.

Coming down the edge of the stairs, she held Billows close, crying into his fur. Loneliness was a vast and empty void. Hazel had seen people come into the shop day in and day out with the same look in their eyes. The emptiness in their chest. She wanted to help them. She wanted to help them because she knew what it was like to be them.

But how could she help anyone when she couldn’t even say hello to a stranger?

As Hazel sat and cried under the dim lights of the market, she thought about her brother's words. He just didn’t get it. Someone had to be there for their mother. Lucinda was tough but she wasn’t all bad. Most of her spirals could be explained. Hazel was certain she could have love and still have her family. That one day the dream would be obtainable.

She was certain.

Above her, the lights flickered and Hazel felt her heart sink. 

She was lying.