bayoubash:

I never could understand why she changed her hat from that grey pillbox to that weaved picture hat. 

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Everyone around Downtown knew the pitter-patter of those shoes. Couples would flee in horror, the scantily dressed would rush to the bushes and pickpockets dared not to go near her infamous purse. 

But that day was strange. She walked past an unwary pair of lovebirds locked in amorous embrace on a bench and she greeted a young woman in a sequinned tube top ‘good morning!’.

She went to her usual spot, a green, wooden double-recliner near the pond at the Crumplebottom Memorial Park, named after a renowned relative whom was unfortunately crushed to death by a chandelier many years ago. She brought out a bag of crumbs and fed the ducks at the pond. She was always so kind to animals. But to people? Not so much.

“There you go, little darlings!” She said to them, her voice high-pitched and rickety. 

A little duckling came near her feet to peck off the crumbs near her shoes. She didn’t realise it was there until it had climbed on top of her shoe.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, giggling a bit. “Aren’t you quite the adventurer?" 

She took out her lorgnette glasses and inspected the little critter. The people walking by were rather confused by this. She’d usually sit down and feed the ducks, but giggle and smile? They’re not even sure if it’s really THE Agnes Crumplebottom. Truth be told, they haven’t seen her for a few months. 

She took a few bread crumbs from her bag and fed them directly to the duckling, which she put on the recliner next to her. 

"Now I don’t want you to get breadcrumbs all over my new dress. How do you like it? It’s quite pretty, isn’t it?" 

She caressed the pearl necklace hanging around her neck. “My fiancé gave me this. He’s just the most darling thing! And his last name is Darling, too, funny enough. I’m going to be Agnes Darling soon. Isn’t that wonderful?”

She took off her weaved picture hat and fixed the daisy pin, which was her favourite. 

"Why am I, why am I wearing this…hat? Where’s my grey hat? Oh, darn. I must’ve left it at my sister’s. My word.”

“What was the name of her son again? Murray? Mortimer? Oh, he’d love ducks, too. He seems like a bright young boy. I’ve never really had a chance to spend much time with him. Truth be told, I don’t know him or his father that well. So silly of me. Oh! And I’m talking to a duck.”

She picked it up and put it back down, where it went back to the pond. She sat back and took a deep breath. She looked around. 

“My my. Where is Erik?”

Agnes stood up from her seat and approached the rental shack at the corner of the park, not far from there. The rental shack clerk was cleaning out the remote controls for the rental boats. He lifted his head and greeted the woman, after only seeing half of her from under his hat. 

"Good afternoon, how can I he—ELP YO-uu…” He jumped, fixing his glasses that slipped off his nose in shock. 

“My word! What on earth is the matter with you?” She yelled, lorgnette glasses in hand, inspecting him suspiciously. 

“No—nothing, Miss Crumplebottom." 

"Miss?” She said, as if asking the question to herself. 

“I was wondering, have you seen my fiancé? He’s about this tall and has blonde hair?" 

The rental shack clerk was quiet for a few moments. “Fiancé?” 

"I thought I was asking the questions, here!” Agnes yelled. 

“Um…um…no, I haven’t…I thought he…your husband…passed on?" 

Agnes lift her left eyebrow. “Passed on?”

The rental shack clerk looked both confused and scared. 

Agnes blinked a few times, saying nothing and looking like she was thinking about something. She turned around and walked away, leaving the rental shack clerk relieved. 

"How silly. Passed on. Passed on where—” She rubbed her pearl necklace and looked suddenly shocked. She looked at her hands and squinted her eyes, fiddling with her fingers. She walked a few meters, out near the sidewalk and stopped. She kneeled down and started sobbing, clutching her purse in one hand and her face in another. 

People walking around Downtown looked even more confused. They’ve never seen her cry. The younger ones hardly knew who she was except for stories they’ve heard about the purse of terror. Some simply thought she was just a demented old bat. Now, even more. 

“Aunt Agnes!” Called out a woman’s voice, running towards her. A hand grasped her arm and helped her up. The elderly woman could barely see, worsened by her tears. She squinted but didn’t know who it was. 

“Who is this?” She asked, meekly, in between little sniffs. 

“It’s me, Cassandra." 

She sobbed and shook her head. “I don’t know! I don’t know where, who—”

"Cassandra. Your sister’s granddaughter, remember? Cornelia?" 

"Oh…” She answered, as if she remembered, but not really. Nevertheless, she calmed down. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know…I’m lost…I couldn’t find Erik…" 

Cassandra tilted her head and put her arm over her shoulder. 

"Why don’t we get you home, Aunt Agnes? Would you like that?" 

Agnes put her face in her hands and nodded.