Excerpt: Patchwork Hearts

CHAPTER ONE
Introductions

Phineas reached into his chest, and pulled out his heart.

It came out easily through the gaping incision down the centre of his chest. It was still attached to the inside of his body by two thick ropes of yarn, one red and one blue. The heart itself was made of wood; a fine, rich brown wood, most likely mahogany. Affixed to it was a pair of round, gold-rimmed glasses, a silver tassel with a glimmering “P” medallion tied to it, and a few light, gossamer dove feathers of white, grey and brown. As Phineas held the grapefruit-sized hunk in his hand, he felt the gentle, steady beat pulse through the solid wood and gently across his skin.

Phineas stared at the object for a moment; no matter how commonplace this action might be for people, it still filled him with a particular affinity for the sacrosanctity of this wonderful thing resting in his palm. Phineas was about to change himself; he took a brief, effervescent moment to absorb this.

He leaned over to the small end table adjacent to him in the darkness. Even in the limited light of this room, the object on it still glimmered, focusing what little light cast through it into a dazzling point that guided his hand. He picked up the small thing, and examined it, turning it back and forth in front of him.

It was a very small diamond, couldn’t have been larger than a pebble, a few millimetres in diameter, and it was very thin. It was a clear cut; the classic jewel shape of a flat top and a pointed bottom, flaring outwards slightly at the top and then rapidly narrowing to a sharp point. This would bond nicely.

Phineas held the item gingerly over a blank spot on the upper-left corner, near the red vein. Floating over the eager surface of the unusual wood, he quickly reflected what would happen to him when this was applied. The last thing he put on his heart were the dove feathers, given to him by his father on his 16th birthday. They made him sympathetic, and filled him with goodwill for life and nature. Phineas felt good about this, but perhaps he was supposed to.

No more stalling, he thought to himself. He laid the diamond onto the wood, point-down, and gave it a small push with his finger. A gentle sound that wasn’t quite like cracking and wasn’t quite like gurgling sounded out in the silent room, and the diamond sunk into the wood, like it was being absorbed in quicksand. The diamond shone for a quick moment before finally stopping, partially embedded into the wood, a small ridge around the base.

It was bonded. Phineas nodded agreeably, and smiled.