WHO: Cloud Strife WHAT: It's his birthday. WHERE: Cloud's room. WHEN: Midnight of Tuesday, August 11. WARNINGS: N/A
“Can you hear that?” she asked. “Or is it just me? The sound of a locomotive bell ringing off the distance…”
Three nights had passed since the first time Cloud saw his mother looking at his wall, over her shoulder. Always it happened when midnight struck, and when he returned from his late night excursions into the bizarre version of a training center, because he needed to clear his head and he wanted to get out...but not be too far from his mother in case this weirdness brought her to the jaws of mortal danger again.
Standing by the door, Cloud stopped to listen -- was it coming back, that train? -- but could hear nothing more than the ticking of his clock, that later never left his attention as he pulled the door shut and sat next to his mother on his bed.
It had been hers since the Monday that they met again. Cloud moved to the couch which was hard but ceased to bother him soon. Shifting sideways, his mother turned to look at him, with an expression that was so open, Cloud couldn’t imagine how other mothers were supposed to look like.
“You were there, weren’t you? In the mountain town. I know I saw you with Margery. You were looking at me and I knew you saw me.”
“You remember.”
She nodded. “I’ve been having dreams, Cloud. Of the mountain town, of the bell...and of you when you were my Cloud.” Putting a hand on her chest, she elaborated, “I was your mother when you were 16-years old. That was the Cloud that I remembered. My Cloud.”
But he thought she said she would always be his mother?
“I had, actually,” she continued, “already known the truth since the first day that we met again. But I was in denial so I tried not to look. The evidences lied everywhere, though,” she said, looking around the clean room, recently maintained by her own efforts although there wasn’t a lot to go through. “It’s in your clothes, it’s in this room.” She looked at him again. “It’s in you.”
Cloud said nothing. He only looked down.
And when he didn’t lift it back up, she had to carry his chin so he could look at her again. “It’s o-kay!” she insisted quietly.
“I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t,” he admitted. “I thought this was a chance for me to do right by you...somehow, I hoped we could start again,” he mumbled.
“You never did me wrong, Cloud,” his mother said, smiling at him, cupping his cheeks. “I’m proud of you, and I will always stand next to you for whatever decisions you make for yourself in the future. You may not know it for yourself but I know you’ll call the right shots. I’ve always believed in you, Cloud.”
So was that why she came back to life? To say those words that Cloud somehow took for facts...but could not believe and accept for what they were?
“I want to show you something,” his mother said. A quiet excitement boosted her back to her feet as she turned to his night desk and opened the first drawer.
“Mom, it’s a mess,” Cloud tried to excuse himself, trying to look sideways at what his mother was doing but her hunched back was keeping it a secret.
It wouldn’t be revealed until it came from her hands, wrapped in a rough canvas pouch that was off white and tied in brown twine. She handed it to him...and then she rolled his fingers around it and pushed it towards his chest.
“Mom, what is this?” he asked for the sake of it, pulling the string loose to bring out…
“Mom?” he asked again, showing her the clear HyPhone case, decorated by pressed yellow flowers. Yellow daisies to be in fact.
His mother grinned at him. “Happy birthday, Cloud!”
“Mom, where’d you get the money!”
“From the allowance you gave me.” She spoke in a way that dared the obvious but she didn’t linger. With both her hands, she pressed the plastic frame onto Cloud’s grip before he thought to throw it away, maybe. “Cloud, I’m not expecting you to use this. I know you won’t. But...you use your HyPhone a lot even if you don’t reply to everyone. I wish you would. It’s always nice to hear from you.”
Cloud wasn’t sure. So he said nothing.
“But since you like your phone a lot, I wanted to give you something that reminded you of who you are in one look. The present Cloud…” she traced the frame, “And the past…” She pointed to a flower. Facing him, she said, “Two of your favorites.”
“Thanks…” he said.
His mother smiled. “Can you take the rest of the day off? Can you take me around in your bike?”
“But...” he began, brows curling, “to where?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted freely,an honesty which later ushered in a smile when she added, “Why don’t you tell me? Birthday boy gets to choose!”
Birthday privileges he’d never had for five...or six years? Although arguably, since being alone, one could say he’d always had it but he never made use of it. Save for a nice lunch, he’d never been driven to celebrate his birthday by doing something bigger. He just never saw the point.
Until now, maybe. Cloud knew that even if his birthday didn’t mean a lot to him, it meant the opposite to his mother. And if it was true she hadn’t celebrated in six years...and maybe never again, depending on how long either of them had in the physical realm...