A Day Alone
Ezekiel woke up late the next day. He certainly didn’t do this often, but he supposed it was from the shopping the day before.
I only have today left for myself so I’ll spend it in the garden and woods. He got out of bed and changed into his gardening clothes—an old white button down shirt, baggy blue jeans, and a yellowish apron. He slipped on his shoes and gloves soon after walking outside. Ezekiel grabbed his shovel and bag while noticing Celadon following him.
Ezekiel started his journey through the rows of flowers and vegetables he planted. Only some of the vegetation had fully grown, but he knew this would be the case. He had planted them all at very separate times so some not being grown is to be expected.
“Ah, a ca’erpillar,” Ezekiel mumbled and pulled the insect off of the leaf it was munching on and put it in his front pocket.
“I’ll name you Craigory,” he smiled, “What d’you think Celadon?” Ezekiel looked down to find that the black cat was gone. He decided he wouldn’t worry about Celadon and continued off into the woods.
It was overgrown, as per usual. Vines snaked their way up and around trees, long-dead leaves on the ground, bushes bristling in the small wind, and the distant sound of birds’ singing.
This, Ezekiel thought, is what the world ought to be—overgrown but maintained; wild but calm.
He fell down backwards, cushioned by the leaves, and spread his limbs wide. Ezekiel heard scuttling, not too far from where he was, and forcefully calmed his breathing. He knew the best thing to do was stay calm and make no sudden movements.
Something bumped into him. It was a soft, fur covered animal. Ezekiel slowly sat up, carefully putting his weight on his arms.
Oh. It’s Celadon. He hummed and scratched the cat’s cheeks. Ezekiel picked Celadon up and rested him on his chest.
“Wonder if someone’ll think ‘m weird,” he mumbled. “I name things that don’ need to be named, I talk to m’self, and I read a whole bunch. If that ain’t weird, I don’ think I know m’self.” The tubby cat only purred in response.
“Well, gee, thanks,” Ezekiel laughed. He stayed lying there on the ground for quite some time. Celadon nipped at his fingers and meowed angrily.
“What is it?” Ezekiel asked. “Do I have somethin’ to do?” He honestly had forgotten about packing. Celadon could somehow tell and began licking Ezekiel’s face.
“Oh. I’ve got to pack, yeh? Tha’s it, huh?” he got up, still holding Celadon to his chest, and made his way inside.
Ezekiel hates packing. He always has to limit himself on what he packs. He knew he had to pack all of his school supplies, his inhaler, and some good muggle books, but what about his record player? Or his guitar? Was he allowed to bring those? Ezekiel didn’t know and he wasn’t sure if he should ask his mother.
Ezekiel made his way to his bed and flopped down. He brought his inhaler to his lips and breathed in deeply for four seconds, holding for three, and exhaling for six. This was an exercise that Amaranth had taught him to calm down.
He decided he would just neatly pack everything into his trunk and ask about the other things when his mother got home. Ezekiel was half-blood, but honestly he didn’t care. He knew about the magical world and had read up on some big pureblood families, which included the Blacks, Potters, Pettigrews, Malfoys, and Princes.
With his trunk packed, Ezekiel trudged his way back to the kitchen and fixed himself a helping of apples and peanut butter. It was his favorite snack, plus it was healthy.
“Zeek!” he heard a voice as the door opened.
“Yes?” Ezekiel called back, a mouth full of apple and peanut butter.
“Are you eating?” it was his father, “Did’ya eat earlier? I know you slep’ in late.”
“Oh, nah,” he shrugged, “I wasn’ hungry then.”
“You should always have something to eat, even when you’re not hungry,” Amaranth scolded. She didn’t have the Scottish accent Ezekiel and his father shared; she was much more posh.
“I know, Mother,” Ezekiel smiled, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not mad at you,” she popped an apple slice in her mouth, “Especially not after you made my favorite snack as well.”
“Hey, this is my snack!” he poked his mother’s shoulder in protest.
“Yes, but it’s your bedtime,” his mother reasoned. “And I’m almost 100% sure you’ve had more than one apple, correct?”
“Correct,” Ezekiel muttered. “Look after Craigory, would’ya?” he brought out the caterpillar and put it on the table, running out of the room before his father could protest. Ezekiel quickly changed into his pajamas and crawled into bed. He wasn’t sure if he was going to like tomorrow, but he was about to find out.