Chapter Six: Curiousity and Courage

                                    

                                          
    Celi was an inquisitive child. One of the most inquisitive children Erin had ever met. She was worse than he was at that age. Everything was a mystery to her, and in her eyes, even the most common of objects was magical. 
   When Erin came to get her for dinner, he found her examining a carpet in her room with wide eyes. She was just standing there, a sorry sight in a once white, but now dirty gray, too small slip, staring down at a carpet, mystified by the colors and pattern. 
    "It's very nice," she said to him when he asked what she was doing. "I'm trying to memorize the details, so I can always look back on it and remember such things exist. You have a knack for decorating."
   Erin stared at her, surprised, and thinking that she was very strange. He pressed his lips into a thin line - though she couldn't see his expression anyway. 
   "Thank you. This particular piece is from India. I travelled to the bright country a few years ago, and this carpet caught my eye. I bought it from a street vendor."
Her eyes grew to the size of plates. Erin wondered how much larger they could grow, for they had to be breaking physical laws already. "You went to India?"
   Erin chuckled. "Yes, I've been to many places. Maybe... if certain situations come to a pleasant end, I'll take you some day."
   Sometimes adults said things to make themselves feel good; they didn't actually intend to fulfill their promises. Celi did not believe for one minute he would lower himself to go anywhere with her. But she knew better than to let on.
   "I'll answer any questions and tell you more while we walk to the dining room." 
   Erin held the heavy door open for her and she walked under his arm. As they walked, she asked about the decor, and he answered, as he said he would.
   "Where is that purple vase from?"
   "Argentina."
   "And the carpet in the hall?"
     "Arabia."
     "And the painting of the tree?"
    "Persia. I lived there for a very long time. A friend of mine painted that for me as a going away present."
    "It's lovely."
   On and on, the two chatted. Celi's innocence and lack of knowledge was endearing and refreshing. So different from the people Erin usually kept company with, who often knew too much.
    At dinner, she ate her turkey and rolls hungrily, while listening to Erin speak, asking questions when he stopped talking to pick at his food or drink some wine. He was mostly concerned with her eating. 
   She hung on his every word, storing what he said away in her mind for her to dissect later. 
   He introduced her to what was called Culture, and she instantly fell in love with the concept. 
   Culture was made of so many things, music, art, science, language, color, patterns, and beautiful things. Everything made from the stars, the material that came purely from dreams and history. 
   Erin and Celi spoke to each other nonstop. The servant waiting to clean up wondered where the little girl had come from, and how, when their was at least a fifteen year difference in their ages, they could speak fluently to each other. 
   Finally, when the candles were dying, and the night grew cold, Erin escorted Celi back to her room, having noticed the way her eyelids drooped and her voice turned softer.