Today, we’re leaving Sophie and Company for a bit to meet up with a very interesting character. Eventually, of course, we hope Sophie meets up with her too!
Ami lived in the blueberry hills, with her old, old grandfather, a delightful man with deep blue skin, a wrinkled face and merry blue eyes. She spent her days roaming the Blueberry Hills, climbing the blueberry trees, swimming the blueberry rivers, and working in the blueberry fields. The rest of Malila depended on their region for its stock of blueberries.
Ami could not remember any other life. Her earliest memory was when grandfather taught her to swim in the Blueberry Wine River. She’d been about 4 years old.
Grandfather was the only person she had, and she loved him dearly. So, it was a very sad day when he fell ill.
He had been ill with a slight Cerulean Cold for the last few days. But that morning he woke with it swollen into a full blown Indigo Flu.
Ami was worried. After all, without the proper care Indigo Flu could soon descend right into the depths of Navy Newmony. And when anyone caught Navy Newmony they were a sure and certain goner.
So she went to find help. They lived half a days journey from the nearest village, and their closest neighbor was an old lady about a hour’s walk away.
She didn’t want to leave Grandfather alone. But she had too risk it. Even though she had been afraid of The Old Lady for as long as she could remember.
The Old Lady was the only person in the area who was not Blue. In fact, her skin was a brilliant orange. It clashed vibrantly with the powder blue country side, and deep blue drugget dresses she wore. That wasn’t the thing that frightened Ami.
The Old Lady always wore such a cross expression on her face and generally kept to herself in her little hut back in the hills of the Tangled Blueberry Forests.And a large, fierce-faced orange cat followed her everywhere. And she muttered to it constantly. Sometimes, very rarely, it would even answer her.
But the scariest thing about was that the villagers said she was a witch.
“Well she isn’t likely to eat me up,” she muttered to herself (Ami that is, not the Old Lady). “She has a knack for healing people, so she isn’t likely to make snacks of them afterwards. And she’s the closest .”
Ami approached the tangled blueberry vines that wreathed the little cottage, cautiously. It was painted a startling orange, though where she got the orange paint there was no telling. It stood out starkly from the sleepy little blue community beyond.
Okay. Don’t put it off any longer. Amy took a deep breath, raised her hand–