“Don’t drink the water too fast. You look severely dehydrated and I don’t want your body to reject it,” Mavis ordered Artemis, like a mother caring for her child.
He debated snapping back, but had not the energy or strength to reply. Plus, he was a bit comforted by the fact that this woman somehow seemed to care for him, in spite of the disheveled state he was in. Maybe he had gone too long without feeling that someone else cared whether he lived or died, or perhaps he had previously been too blind to notice. Either way, as he began the process of rehydrating himself, Mavis, although she herself was about as worn out as an old ratty towel, was standing at his side as a source of stability.
There are moments in life that, long after they occur, we replay them over and over again in our mind’s eye. For Artemis, this was one of those moments. What had started out as a well planned vacation of rest and relaxation had turned into the first real roadblock Artemis had encountered on his journey of life to this point. As the color returned to his skin, he could not help but wonder how exactly this woman had ended up finding him.
As he had not formally introduced himself to this point, he slowly reached out his hand, brushing the sand off in the process, and said gently, “I am Artemis, how do you do?”
To be continued…