heatherdomin.com

The Token

"Well now! Where is my little Empress?"

"Papa!"

She ran as fast as her feet would carry her across the nursery, ignoring Jacinda's clucking tongue. She saw nothing but the tall shape of her father in the doorway, the top of his hat brushing the gilded frame. He caught her in his arms and swung her high as if she were a feather, a rush of flying ribbons and jingling livery, dizzying, until she touched the ground again and clung to the heavy broadcloth of his uniform to make sure he was really there.

"I missed you, Papa. I missed you so much."

"And I you, sweetheart. Were you a good girl while I was away?"

She nodded at once, fervently; Jacinda was wise enough to remain silent. Her father smiled down at her, dark eyes twinkling at her lie. "I never doubted it. Whom else can I depend upon to run the house in my absence?" He perched his hat on her globe of the world and undid the top buttons of his coat.

"Look here, I have something for you. I've brought you a present."

"Have you really? A present for me? Is it from India?"

His hand, large and graceful beneath its lacing of scars, reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small object wrapped in tissue. He unwrapped it with his other hand and she stood on her tiptoes to see, too enthralled to display proper patience. In the cradle of his palm, beneath layers of strange and colorful crepe, lay a figure of curving lines carved from something dark and smooth and ancient.

"An elephant! It's an elephant! Oh, Papa, is it really for me? Did you bring it all the way from India just for me?"

"I did indeed. And it is certainly from India, for I stood outside the temple and watched it carved myself. Can you smell the incense?"

She could; it smelled like earth, and rain, and the spicy things that clung to her skin when she played inside his wardrobe on rainy days.

"It is your elephant, my dear, and you may have it one condition." She looked up at him, but his smile was mischievous. "When I return tomorrow you must tell me the story of this elephant, and his family and his friends, and all of his magical adventures. And after you tell me, you must write it all down in your writing-book, so that I may read it next time. Have we a bargain, Empress? Will you tell me the story?"

Behind her she heard Jacinda's noise of disapproval. Her father said nothing; he held the little statue between them, balanced on fingers thick with sword callous and smudged with ink stains. She put both hands on his wrist and looked up into his smiling face, and felt herself grow taller.

"I will, Papa," she said.