The Plight of the Yoyles

THE PLIGHT OF THE YOYLES
By Mordecai J Banda

Radish Burke, 18, many times contemplated suicide. But the house was already stripped so far he couldn’t find any suitable device. It was for the family’s good, however: his parent’s frustrated lives had started ballooning into arguments more often. And finally, with in a weird proceed Rad seriously thought would make a PHD in sociology, his parents agreed to sell everything of the house, and transverse the world in a fix-up honeymoon for 2 weeks. Radish had had no say in the decision, and many times they reminded him,
“Honey, Uncle Axle is a kind man…” That would be mom. Dad would be straight forward and surprisingly, the more comforting, “Seriously kid, my brother is strange and short-tempered, just mind your own end of the line and he’ll leave you alone, I heard he has a Jaguar”
Radish sat at the steps as twin sofas were transferred outside the house, the final pieces of furniture.
Mr and Mrs Burke started saying some sickening pet names, and then they had a long kiss, and only stopped when one of the workmen whistled and Radish retched.
They broke apart, slightly embarrassed.
Radish rolled his eyes and started trumping up the stairs to his room, wishing his holidays would disappear. Then he stopped halfway when he realised he had no room.

Uncle Axle was everything Radish’s father had explained. He was also an ex-soldier and was in love with thick books, the ones that dribbled with senseless descriptions of building and scenery. His first words as Radish arrived by taxi were,
“Kid, we barely know each other, so I’ll put is simple, you clean up and talk only when you want to. And you stay away from the Jaguar on week days, then I’ll skip the interrogation and small-talk and we’ll live in harmony.”
Radish found, as he unpacked in his room, that he actually liked the policy.

His uncle knew how to cook, and wasn’t as hobbling as his face looked. He managed pretty much everything in the house, though he never bothered cleaning, when he saw the TV [finally] he mashed his face in despair, it was a small cube, black and white, and Radish was surprised the man had a Jaguar. A special orange sports beauty. Roofless, like a convertible.
The whole set up of his uncle’s place was weird, a cabin like home set on one of the flat crests of the many hills in the area. Only one solitary dirt road led to the reasonably active city of the district, Radish was planning to go to it the next Saturday.

Gradually Radish started wandering down the hill, and he wished he hadn’t. He really did.
There was a cool fog down here that blended with the sunlight with multicoloured shimmers of light. Radish gradually heard the sound of a stream. The two elements mixed together in a calming and soothing tune, making Radish feel more sentimental than he actually was.
Radish didn’t reach the stream immediately; however, he always turned back and went up to the cabin, until one of the days he was lured to the bottom of the hill.
Radish passed through a thick fog and found the stream, calm, glinting in the now blazing sunlight. He saw a tall tree, and at its foot, a statue, set on an elevated square base, that seemed very out of place.
Radish approached it carefully, and admired its work; it depicted a girl, almost his age, with flowing hair and in a dress trailing over to her feet. He studied the face and noticed she had a sad smile.
The statue blinked.
Radish yelped, and the statue shook the grey out of itself, gaining colour. She had a blue dress woven with gold lacings and design. Her hair was golden and the face simply beautiful.
She didn’t seem to have noticed Rad, and she went over to the stream, looking deep into the water sadly. She started whistling a sad tune. She looked up as she sensed Radish, then looked straight at Rad. She seemed a bit surprised, “Who are you?”

-Radish screamed and ran up the whole length of the hill. He didn’t bother relating the story to his uncle.

The next day, however, despite the fact he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t ever get out of the house; Rad cautiously went down the hill.
The mystery statue-girl was already by the stream when he arrived. This time he noticed she had tears running down her cheek. She still whistled the haunting tune.
“Hello?” Radish tried, approaching. Feeling a certain degree of sympathy for the girl.
She turned and grabbed Radish.
Radish yelped and tried to pull back, but her strength was enormous.
“You ran away.”
Rad felt shame. He muttered in an off-handed way,
“Well… you’re a statue… aren’t you? I mean…”
She relinquished her hold, turned away from him and walked further across the stream.
Great, I can hurt a statues feelings. Rad thought, then he ran up to her, she was exactly his height.
“I’m sorry, honestly.”
“It’s okay.” She said, looking at the stream, Rad noticed she had jewel-green eyes.
“My name is Radish Burke and I’m here for my holidays. My mother and father were arguing a lot, so they thought they could patch up the marriage…” When Radish saw her fix him a gaze, he continued,
“So they sold the house and they’re making me stay with my Uncle Axle, and ex-soldier who’s obsessed with thick novels and being solitary.”
She smiled, and Radish wanted to see it forever,
“Isn’t a radish a sort of crop?” she asked, bewildered.
The face Radish made sparked off a laugh that gradually turned into long, tentative conversations. Deep in his head Radish wanted to ask the whole story of her being a statue, but it crossed him as being irresponsible.
The hours passed on into days, and Radish always brought fruit or some snack. Her name was Melon. [Radish made a retort, jibe about that, too]

Melon could indeed eat fruit, but it was never filling, but she enjoyed the taste anyhow. She commented that every day the taste got even better, but what that meant was never known to Radish, because he noticed how distant her eyes became and he changed the subject.
She was sad, always, but her laughs were genuine, and Radish never ran out of something to say. It was pure harmony.
On one of the occasions Radish noticed some inscription on the side of the stone base,
“THOMAS RAYMOND HARVEYSON”
It wrote.

“What’s this?” he asked, tossing the core of an apple away.
She became sad again, but Radish repeated the question. Melon sighed,
“Thomas was the first human I met. He was a boy, much younger than you, and he hated his family… abandoned.”
“Something like me?”
“No, you’re more cheerful,” Radish couldn’t help feeling pleased with himself...
“Thomas helped me when I was scared, he never got scared-” Radish felt stupid, “-He just helped me. I was hysterical… I didn’t understand anything he showed me or taught me… I never knew how I skipped 900 years…”
This time, the question was inevitable,
“Melon? I’m sorry but, what happened?”
Melon looked at him and a tear fell down her cheek, she explained her story. For the best part of two hours. It ran like this:

Melon was one of the three daughters of the royal family, the Yoyles. It was the richest kingdom and the king and queen were so blessed, they bore the most beautiful daughters in the land.
But they were immoral. Melon being the most peaceful, the parents never worried of her. But her sisters ran around, letting many princes court them before turning them down and moving on.
Gradually the King and Queen despaired and lost sight of things, a state of which the evil advisor of the kingdom took advantage. He was a powerful being taught well in the dark arts. He told the king and queen that he could put a spell on the daughters that they should pass the door of the house every night at the 10th hour or they’ll suffer death. Whereby they would explode into dust, ash, sand and blood.
The King and Queen were desperate for discipline, and they allowed the spell to be cast. But the spell was a terrible punishment, for it affected any maiden of the Yoyles. Many of the females died unknowing of what they had done; only the princesses knew of the spell.
Melon’s sister’s funerals happened simultaneously the next week; their urns were presented to the King and Queen during the morning hours…
A year passed and Melon soon became interested in a prince, she started feeling a love for him. And despite the spell, she ventured far and wide to stay with him.
One night, she completely forgot about the spell, and when she did remember the prince delayed her. Melon finally tore free and rode her horse so hard it collapsed. She ran the rest of the way. Halfway through the door, the time struck, and in the limbo of the situation, her being halfway in and halfway out, Melon was instead turned into a statue, and she only awoke 900 years later to find an inquisitive Thomas who taught her what she missed. Melon did not know why she woke periodically and why at that time, but everyday she woke up earlier and taste and feeling became more real. There was hope.

When Melon was done Radish was silent with awe, dusk was approaching.
“What happened to Thomas?”
Melon sniffed, “He died… he had a sickness… cancer I think. When he died I didn’t wake up… until you came.” She smiled slightly. Then started whistling the tune.
Radish suddenly remembered. Yester night his pals had tracked his number down and announced that a party was going on in the same city the next night, Saturday.
“Melon? You want to feel more real? There’s a sort of… party… dance… in town. I can drive you there. Very fast.”
Melon looked ashen, and Radish thought she had turned into a statue again.
“Just think of it okay?”
“No no… it’s been long since… Of course I’ll come… but” She looked herself over.
Radish was already heading up the hill, excited,
“No worry! I’ll bring a dress!”

Radish "borrowed" the Jaguar/convertible that night and went out to buy Melon a black dress. He guessed her size to be around his sister's [currently in New York]
When he arrived with it she was still a statue, and he left it at her feet in some sort of ritual, smiled at her, and left.
The next day he drove the Jaguar over, legally this time, and found her on the road. Dazzling in the dress. Seeming to add more beauty to everything she walked in, Radish felt a heat rising in his cheeks.
"Wow… you look fantastic" Radish immediately knocked himself. How many people had said that?
"Thank you." She replied with a genuine thanks. As she entered the Jaguar, she exclaimed, "My, is this a real car?"
"Yes it is, your highness… Lets go to a party."
Before Radish turned the ignition, Melon stopped him, still amazingly strong
Radish looked at her solid gaze,
"Promise me, promise me Radish that you'll return me before 10!"
"Yeah… yes… of course, Melon!".
She whistled the same sad tune she seemed to like.
"What's that song you keep on singing?"
"A reminder."

Melon was very animated during the ride. Exclaiming at what she saw and pestering Radish with innocent and childish questions. Radish was amused. Strangely, no one she bothered swore at her, and most driver's on the way never failed to compliment her beauty, Radish felt like a million bucks. Then they arrived at the party, a huge cinema converted into a dance floor and bar for the night. The friends, The drink and the couples arrived.
Radish, from that moment, never felt proud of himself ever again.

The party raged on longer and longer. The drink fuelling Radish into a frenzy, till the hours for the normal party finished and the overnight one began. Melon became steadily frantic, tugging at Radish.\
"We need to go, Rad… please."
"Just another dance, Melon… come-on" The slurred voice was stale with beer.
Radish, after his 7th beer, noticed Melon was nowhere to be seen, and he felt ashamed and decided it was time to go. He went out of the block to see Melon sitting in the Jaguar. She was silent and staring ahead.
"Melon? I'm sorry, I'll take you… I'll take you back." Radish leaned over to look at her through heavy eyes.
The voice which Melon used startled Radish at how weak it sounded.
"I never understood… how my sisters could venture out to face their loved ones. How they could risk their lives… every single day. I did the same but… I was too careful."
Melon looked up at Radish,
"I don't blame you Radish. Whatever you do, don't blame yourself."
Radish raised his eyebrow then spotted the glinting dashboard clock "9:59" and blinking.
"No…"
Melon's hair started dissolving into sand, Radish tore open the door and fumbled with the ignition. Melon continued,
"You know that tune I always sang? it was my mother who made it:

My dear, Sparrow is gone
Sand, stone, ash and blood,
On the same night, Opal is dead,
Sand, stone, ash and blood,
My dear Melonnius, will you always be?
Or will you too venture out and become Sand, Stone, ash, and blood?

"Melon no… no!" Radish jammed in the key in vain, shaking too much. He was in tears. Melon laughed, a small, resigned laugh, "You know… I-"
She exploded; gushing out blood inhumanely: a sudden, violent, and painful death. Leaving Radish stained and dripping in blood, ash and sand. He dropped his keys, tears forever streaming.