

### Short Story Collection Vol. 1

By

Sophia DeLuna

SMASHWORDS EDITION

*****

PUBLISHED BY:

Sophia DeLuna at Smashwords, Inc, Los Gatos

www.smashwords.com

Short Story Collection Vol. 1

Copyright © 2014 by Sophia DeLuna

Cover design

Copyright © 2014 by Sophia DeLuna

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

*****

Table of Contents:

Footprints in the Sand

An Unusual Gift

Fénya and Elynor

A Christmas to Remember

The Witch and the Fiddler

The Fool

### Footprints in the Sand

It had been four weeks ago that Raya had first noticed them on her daily morning walk on the beach – a solitary person's footprints in the sand.

Back then, she had just wondered who else might be such an early riser as she was, but she hadn't thought of it much further and went on, enjoying the crisp salty air and the play of colors on the shimmering sea.

From then on she had seen the footprints every morning, but she never saw the person to whom they belonged. After about three weeks, she became curious and decided to get up an hour earlier.

It was still fairly dark when she left for the beach, and when she got there the sun had just started to rise, and ... the footprints were already there.

She sighed. There was no sense in getting up yet earlier, as she really didn't want to meet a stranger in the dark. Instead, she decided to follow the footprints to see where they would lead her. So, rather than leaving the beach on her usual path, she followed the footprints to the far end of the beach, where the huge forest began. When she couldn't make out the footprints anymore, she once more gave up disappointed, and turned back. She wasn't familiar with the forest, yet, as she had just moved here two months ago. On her way home, she decided to get herself a map of the forest, and plan an exploration for the next day.

Prepared with a backpack filled with things she might need, including her cellphone, a map and food, she spent the day in the forest, savoring its beauty, and despite not having found the owner of the footprints, at the end of the day she was happy and fulfilled.

When on the following morning she saw the footprints again, she decided to simply ignore them.

For a full week she tried to ignore them. For a full week she couldn't help but notice them every single day nonetheless. The previous night they had even followed her into her dreams.

She awoke early, still troubled from her dreams. Unnerved, she threw on her clothes and started for the beach. On the way she made a decision. Would the elusive person not show up today, she would in future take a different route to walk. There was another beach not too far away; she would go there, and stop thinking of this beach and the strange footprints.

When she reached the beach at the break of dawn, however, she could just barely make out that the footprints were already there. Yet, looking over the beach, no one was to be seen. For a moment she thought about going back to fetch her backpack, but she was too unsettled and too impatient. Now she wanted to know, and she was determined to find out this time, so she stomped through the sand towards the forest.

When she reached the end of the beach, she hesitated, cursing herself that she hadn't even taken her cellphone with her. Taking a deep breath, she entered the forest. Careful not to stumble, she followed the overgrown path deep into the woods.

Some time later she halted. She was getting hungry, and she didn't even know where she was. There was no path visible anymore. She had just walked on and on, lost in her thoughts, trying to understand why these darn footprints were unsettling her so much. She should try to find her way back home, she thought. But then she squinted into the distance. Was that light? Perhaps she had reached the end of the forest, though that was unlikely, unless she had walked in a circle, since this forest was rather extensive. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she started towards the light.

Shoving a branch aside, she saw it; a large clearing with an old and weathered little hut.

Raya stood there unmoving for a while, not sure what she should do, now that she had found the home of the footprints' owner, as she was certain. For some strange reason, she felt drawn to the hut. She had to see to whom the footprints belonged. She just wanted to step into the clearing, when ...

"So, you have found me, after all."

Raya jumped and swirled around to face the person who had spoken. Slack-jawed, she stared at the strikingly beautiful woman in front of her, who seemed to be surrounded by a slightly shimmering aura that made her look like an angel, though her ancient clothes and dirty, bare feet didn't quite fit with this image. "Uh ...," Raya uttered, at a loss for words.

The woman smirked in amusement. Then her face turned serious and she said, "Leave now and never come back or step into this clearing and stay for the rest of your life."

The deep voice of the mysterious woman sent shivers down Raya's spine, yet she felt drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She didn't want to leave, she desperately wanted to get to know this woman, but of course she could not and would not imagine staying forever with someone she didn't know. She wanted to ask, wanted to tell her, wanted ... but the only words she got out were, "Uh ... but ..."

The woman interrupted Raya, the penetrating gaze of her shining blue eyes boring into her, making her tremble,

"You have heard me."

Her eyes fixed on the beautiful, ageless face of the woman, Raya uttered, "I can't."

The woman closed her eyes and nodded. "Then leave now."

"I, ... I mean I can't leave."

The woman raised her eyebrows, obviously surprised. "Yes, you can. Now. And do not come back." And not waiting for a response, the woman stepped past Raya into the clearing, and strode towards the hut.

Raya turned around and watched the woman entering the hut and closing the door behind her without looking back again. Raya's mind was racing. A mixture of emotions was struggling within her. She just couldn't understand why this woman insisted on her only having these two choices. But whatever her reasons were, Raya was determined to get to know this woman. She was just as determined to make her see that they could become friends without her having to stay right away. And after all, that hut didn't exactly look inviting ... maybe they could meet at her place every once in a while ... she had just acquired a gorgeous house with a beautiful garden, not too far from the beach. Yes, she would invite the woman to her place.

Having made up her mind, Raya stepped into the clearing and walked towards the hut.

When she reached it, the door opened.

"So, you will stay." It was not a question. The woman stepped aside and gestured Raya to come in.

Not accepting the invitation, Raya explained, "Actually, I need to go back. Look, I haven't even had breakfast yet. Hell, I haven't even showered yet. I just came to invite you to come over to my place." She smiled eagerly at the woman, who now didn't look so mysterious anymore, though her beauty still took Raya's breath away.

The woman raised an eyebrow, and with an inscrutable look on her face she said, "I did warn you. I told you, you will have to stay if you step into the clearing."

"Yes, but see, you can't expect me to stay with you forever when I don't even know you. Let's take it easy and get to know each other first. My name is Raya, and you don't need to worry. I won't tell anyone about you."

"I do not worry. I know you will not tell anyone," said the woman sternly.

Raya shivered at the hard tone, but she forced herself to smile. "Great. Well, I will go now. How about we meet on the beach tomorrow morning?"

The woman raised an eyebrow and stated calmly, "You will be back long before that."

Despite still feeling strangely drawn towards her, the attitude of this woman was immensely annoying to Raya. "No, I won't. It's your turn now. If you want, you can find me at the beach in the morning. Otherwise, you won't see me again. Have a nice day." She did not wait for a response, turned around and walked back to the spot where she had entered the clearing. She didn't look back, so she didn't see the woman shaking her head, a strangely sad look on her face.

The sun had fully risen, and the forest wasn't as dark as it had been before, so Raya didn't have to be as careful when she stomped through the undergrowth, replaying in her mind all that had happened. She wondered why she was feeling so drawn to such an arrogant bitch, and shook her head, disgusted with herself, as she couldn't help thinking about the extraordinary beauty of the stranger.

She was quite surprised when she suddenly found herself at the edge of the forest, the familiar beach in front of her.

Relieved that she hadn't lost her way, she walked the rest of the way home.

Just before the junction near her house, a boy on a bicycle raced towards her, almost running her over, had she not jumped aside at the last possible second. Because of the emotional roller coaster she had experienced, she couldn't refrain from cursing behind the reckless boy. She blushed furiously, when she noticed her neighbor, the father of the boy, looking in her direction.

"Uh, I'm sorry. But he really scared me. Perhaps he could be a bit more careful?"

She watched in puzzlement, as the neighbor simply turned round, disappeared into his car and drove away without saying a single word to her, as if she was invisible. Hopefully he wasn't too badly offended about her cursing now ... Shaking her head she walked the rest of the way home.

Just as she closed the door, she heard the phone ringing and rushed to answer it.

"Raya? It's me, Eliza. I just wanted to tell you that I can't keep our appointment today."

"Oh, ok. How about Saturday?" Raya suggested.

"Ray? Are you there?"

Puzzled, Raya answered, "Sure, can't you hear me?"

"Raya? Shit!"

The line went dead. "Jeez, you'd think in the 21st century they'd be able to provide a functioning phone line," Raya cursed and was interrupted by the sound of her cellphone. When she answered it, the same thing happened – her friend, Eliza couldn't hear her.

"Hm ... maybe the problem is with Eliza's phone. Well, I'll figure it out later, now I must eat and shower," Raya said to herself.

***

However, she had no luck later, either. She called several people, but none of them could hear her. She decided to go to her neighbor and ask to use their phone. But when the woman opened the door, she just looked around and shut the door right in Raya's face, muttering something about 'darn children'. She got a similar reaction from the two other neighbors further down the dirt road.

Raya was at a loss. People obviously couldn't hear her, nor could they see her. It was almost as if she was non-existent. But that of course, was completely illogical.

Her computer didn't work. Eliza had been planning to fix it today. Now on her way back to her home, she was cursing her computer and her phone and the fact that she had chosen such a remote place to live.

Grumpily, she thought back to the woman in the forest, who had so arrogantly assumed that she would be back long before tomorrow morning. Obviously she knew the answer to the strange things Raya was experiencing. For several hours Raya struggled with herself before she finally decided to give in and resign herself to receive the I-told-you-so treatment and headed for the woods.

***

"Come in," said the woman.

"I ...," started Raya.

"Come. In."

Heaving a sigh, Raya said, "Okay," and stepped into the hut.

The woman offered her a seat at the table, where a pitcher of water and two mugs had already been placed. As they sat down, the woman introduced herself, "My name is Shareena." She gestured at the water and when Raya nodded, she filled the mugs and placed one in front of Raya.

"Thanks. Are you going to tell me now what all this is about?"

Shareena looked at the mug in her hands, and then she looked right into Raya's eyes. "You will not like it."

Raya leaned back, "Oh, I already don't but tell me anyway." "Please," she added as an afterthought.

The corner of Shareena's mouth twitched in amusement, but she quickly turned serious again. "First let me tell you, that I am truly sorry. I did not want this to happen, and I did not want you to find me, not this time. However, I could not help myself continuing to watch you after I had finally found you, and for that I do apologize."

"You watched me? When? Why?"

"When – every single day for almost two months now. Why – because I still love you as I have for 969 years."

Raya choked on the water she had just sipped, and when she had composed herself, she gaped at Shareena in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me!"

Smiling, Shareena shook her head. In a soft voice she said, "No, Raya, I am not kidding."

Shareena began explaining the whole story to Raya, and responding to her questions throughout the day.

Raya couldn't explain why, but for some unfathomable reason she believed Shareena. She somehow felt a strong bond between them that was indescribable, and, of course, completely illogical to her scientific mind. Nonetheless it felt real.

At some point Raya leaned forward, "So, tell me if I got this right ... some thousand years ago ..."

"969," Shareena corrected.

"Eh, details ... okay... okay ... 969 years ago, some weird-ass witch cursed you – and accidentally me – because my weird-ass mother back then was freaking out about us being in love. She wanted the witch to kill you, which the wicked witch didn't do, because she didn't want to get bad juju onto herself or something. So, instead of killing you, she just cursed you with being invisible and inaudible to others, including the whole clearing, and as compensation she gave you the gift of an eternal life. And by casting that spell on the whole clearing, not knowing that I wasn't in my room, where my freaking mother had locked me up, but had escaped and was with you, that invisible/inaudible spell affected me too, but not the eternal life one. So I still have to do all that dying and being reborn thingy and the whole shebang, and whenever I enter this clearing, I'm doomed to be a freaking ghost again until I die?"

"You are not a ghost Raya, and neither am I."

"Yeah, well, details. Apart from that ... did I get it right so far?"

"I have to admit, that I am having difficulty understanding your colorful language. However, by and large, I would say, yes, you got it right."

"Holy moly!" Raya exclaimed and slumped back.

"I am truly sorry, Raya. I have seen that you have built yourself a wonderful fulfilling life this time around. When I realized this, I did not want you to lose it."

"Now wait just a darn minute! Why would I lose it? The house is paid for. We could just as well live at my place!"

"Raya, they will declare you dead, eventually."

"But I'm not dead!" Raya shouted agitatedly.

"No, you are not," said Shareena softly.

Taking a deep breath Raya deduced, "I can't be dead, I'm hungry."

Shareena chuckled. "Then I had better feed you lest you starve to death."

Shareena got up and when she passed Raya, Raya looked up at her and said, "This really ain't easy."

"I know," said Shareena and squeezed Raya's shoulder compassionately, "Believe me, I know."

***

While they were eating, Raya suddenly stopped raising her spoon midway to her mouth. She slowly placed it back on the plate and looked at Shareena who was watching her curiously. "Why could I see you when I hadn't yet stepped into the clearing?"

Shareena explained, "It seems that close to the clearing I am visible to you, and only to you. No one else could ever see me – or you for that matter, once you had stepped into the clearing.

Raya looked thoughtful. "Anyone else ever stepped into the clearing?"

"No."

"Hm ... strange," said Raya and went on with her meal.

When they had finished eating, and Raya saw Shareena placing the dishes into a bowl of water, she noticed that there was no sink, and looking around she realized for the first time, just how ancient and primitive Shareena lived.

"Shareena?"

"Yes?"

"How would you like to come and stay at my place?" Raya asked and added, "At least for as long as we can."

Shareena looked at Raya with love and understanding, and she nodded. "I would like that."

Raya smiled a bit embarrassed but nonetheless relieved. "Thank you."

***

When they were walking on the beach, the sun was just setting, painting the sky and the ocean into a stunning range of colors.

Suddenly, Raya stopped in her tracks. "Oh my god! Why didn't I think of that earlier?!"

"Of what?"

"Why didn't I send a text message? I could send a text message, couldn't I? Of course, I could! I could dial numbers, so of course I could send a freaking text message! Yay!" She threw her arms around a puzzled and surprised Shareena and hugged her fiercely. When she let go, Raya's eyes were shining excitedly, and she said, "I have found the solution for us, Shareena! They will not declare me dead; I can tell them that I'm alive! Come on, let's hurry!" She grabbed Shareena's hand and started dragging her forwards, but Shareena held her back.

"Easy, darling! Let me first tell you something."

Reluctantly, Raya calmed down. "Okay, what?"

Shareena looked down, not at all happy about what she had to reveal. Taking a deep breath, she said, "You have tried that the last time. It ... did not work."

Raya looked at her searchingly. "Why not? What happened?"

Shareena took Raya's hand in hers before she looked into her eyes and explained, "You were living with your family then. You wrote a letter to your mother. When she read it, she got a heart attack. She survived ... but she never fully recovered. Your father blamed your sister for the letter because she had a similar handwriting. You wrote another letter, explaining that it had not been your sister but you who wrote the letter. Your father then called people to take your sister away ... to an institution ... she never returned." Shareena looked down at Raya's hands and squeezed them.

"Shit!" Raya breathed. She carefully pulled her hands free, and comfortingly put her arms around Shareena.

Shareena pleaded, "Please, do not do this again. You never really got over it. You felt guilty for the rest of your life. Please, darling, do not do this. It will only make you hurt."

"Don't worry. I promise to think about it, and we will talk about everything before I do anything. People have changed since ... well, whenever that was ... but I won't rush this, I promise."

Shareena kept repeating, "It hurt you so much. I don't want you to hurt again. Do not do this. Please." And Raya did her best to assure her again and again that she wouldn't rush things, as she needed to think it through.

***

It was dark when they finally reached Raya's house. All the way they had held hands to comfort and reassure each other, and only when Raya needed to search for her keys did she let go.

She opened the door, switched on the light and turned to Shareena, gesturing her to come in. "Come on, let's get comfortable, hm?"

Raya showed Shareena to the sofa and asked her what she would like to drink.

"Just water, thank you."

"Are you sure? I've got lots of other stuff here."

Shareena smirked in amusement, "I know. But I prefer water. I guess I am too old to get used to anything else."

Raya chuckled. "I see. Water coming right up."

Shareena leaned back into the soft cushioned sofa, closed her eyes and sighed.

When Raya returned with a glass of water for Shareena and a glass of Coke for herself, Shareena had fallen asleep.

Smiling fondly, Raya placed the glasses on the table and reached out to touch Shareena's shoulder. When Shareena stirred, Raya whispered, "Hey, how about taking a quick shower and going to bed, hm? It's been a long, exciting day."

"Mhmm."

Raya squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. "Come on. You go have a shower, I'll get you something to sleep in."

"Mm." Reluctantly, Shareena opened her eyes. "All right."

***

Raya had explained to Shareena how everything worked and where she could find what she needed.

When she came and wanted to lay down the nightwear in front of the door, she got all flustered and blushed furiously when Shareena opened the door and stood before her in all her freshly showered glory, only her long dark hair covered by a towel.

Shareena chuckled and took the nightwear out of Raya's hands. And still chuckling, she disappeared into the bedroom, while Raya stood rooted to the spot. Raya had to shake herself before she could move again.

When Raya had finished showering and entered the bedroom, Shareena was sound asleep.

Raya watched the sleeping beauty, who despite her age didn't look much older than Raya herself. She blushed again when she remembered the sight from before, and she wondered whether she should go and sleep on the sofa as the guest bedroom wasn't furnished yet. But then she scolded herself for being silly. After all, this woman had been her partner for centuries, and she really shouldn't need to feel so flustered about sharing a bed with ... uh ... an about thousand year old woman whom she had met for the first time today ... at least in this life ... a woman who looked absolutely gorgeous and totally adorable in her sleep, especially with that shirt having slipped down a bit, revealing her beautiful, well-toned shoulder and her deliciously tanned skin and ... she carefully grabbed her blanket and cushion and went to sleep on the sofa.

***

In the middle of the night, Raya was roused from an unpleasant dream by hands gently shaking her and a soft low voice telling her,

"It was just a dream, darling. Why are you sleeping on the sofa?"

Sitting up, Raya rubbed her eyes before she could mumble an answer. "Mmm ... cuz you were sleepin' in the bed."

Shareena leaned back a bit and said reassuringly, "Raya, the bed is big enough for two. I won't touch you if that is what you are afraid of."

Raya glanced at her but quickly looked back at her hands, glad that in the semi-darkness Shareena couldn't see her flushing cheeks, and she mumbled, "But I might."

The following two seconds of silence felt like an eternity to Raya, and she was about to apologize when Shareena started to laugh out loud. Between chuckles she said, "Some things never change."

"What do you mean?" Raya asked.

Still grinning, Shareena answered, "You always had a hard time keeping your hands off me." She had to chuckle again when Raya groaned and hid her burning face behind her hands.

"It is the first time, though, that you are embarrassed about it," Shareena noted amused. Giving Raya's shoulder a quick, gentle squeeze, she said, "Come to bed, hm? There really is no need to be embarrassed." "And there is no need to restrain yourself either," she added suggestively.

Raya groaned again but when Shareena got up, she did follow her. However, when they were both in bed, Raya was happy with snuggling into Shareena's embrace. She sighed contentedly and fell asleep shortly after.

Shareena stayed awake awhile longer, relishing in the feeling of finally holding her love in her arms again after having been without her for decades.

***

"Good morning!" Raya said softly as Shareena stirred.

Rubbing her eyes, Shareena hummed, "Mmm morning."

Gently brushing a strand of hair off Shareena's face, Raya said, "You're cute when you're sleepy."

Shareena's left eyebrow shot up and with a voice deep and rough from sleep she said, "Mmm ... Now, that is new! You have called me many things, but you never called me cute."

"Then my former selves were clearly lacking," Raya declared and tenderly brushed her fingertips over Shareena's temple and cheek.

Looking at Raya with twinkling eyes, Shareena said in a sensual, low voice "Oh, I don't know, I have never found you lacking in any regard."

Raya blushed and wanted to draw back her hand but Shareena caught it, raised it to her lips and placed a tender kiss on the knuckles. Then she held Raya's hand against her cheek, caressing the back of it, while looking lovingly into her eyes. "You always have been and always will be my treasure. I am so very glad that you are back."

Raya looked down and said silently, "You didn't sound so glad when we first met at the clearing, yesterday."

Shareena let go of Raya's hand and reached for her chin, gently lifting it until she looked at her. "I apologize for having been so brusque. My heart wanted nothing more than to take you into my arms and tell you how very happy I am that you are back. However, I had seen how you lived ... how happy you were with your life this time ... that was not the case, the other times you were here ... plus the last time you were suffering so much, and even though there were happy times as well, there always remained a touch of sadness for the rest of your life. But that is not all ... times have changed a lot since you have last been here. The differences between our lives are severe now. I did not want you to lose all this." She gestured with her arm to enhance her statement. "So I tried to discourage you. But obviously it did not work." Shareena tried to smile but failed and sighed heavily. "I am sorry."

Raya touched her cheek and said softly, "Don't be. I understand. And I'm glad that I did step into the clearing, after all."

Shareena looked at her surprised. "You are?"

"Yes. And I will find a way for us to live here. No. Hear me out. You're right, times have changed. But so have people. We just have to figure out the best approach." When she saw Shareena still looking uneasy, she added, "And if it doesn't work, and people insist on behaving like jerks, I'll be gladly living in the forest with you for the rest of my life, and I won't suffer a scrap 'cause I wouldn't want to have anything to do with people who behave like fucktards."

Shareena laughed. "Language has changed a lot, also." Raya grinned and Shareena continued, "All right. So, what do you think might be a prudent approach?"

"Hm ... let me think." Raya lay back and stared contemplatively at the ceiling. "My mom in this life surely won't get a heart attack, of that I'm certain."

Shareena propped herself up on one elbow and listened attentively.

"But, I believe, trying to get Eliza on our side first, might be easier. She's a major geek and she's a huge sci-fi fan. So, chances are pretty good, I'd say, that she won't freak out but respond logically." Raya looked at Shareena.

"I did not understand half of what you were just saying, but responding logically sounds good."

"Um, well, I guess that's all you need to understand for now ... I can explain the rest another time as I don't know where I'd have to start with you, and I believe time is of the essence now. The longer people don't hear from me, the bigger the problem becomes for us."

"I agree. Proceed."

"Okay, first, I'll need my cellphone." Raya got up and said, "I'll be right back." When she returned, Shareena had propped herself up into a comfortable sitting position, and was looking curiously at the device in Raya's hand.

"Uh, you know what a phone is?" Raya asked.

"I believe, I do, yes."

"Okay, well, this is pretty similar, just that you can now also write to people, not just talk."

"Ah."

Shareena still looked quite puzzled, but Raya decided to postpone any further explanation and started typing:

El, I need your help. Can't talk. I'm in trouble. Text me as soon as you can. Don't tell anyone!!! Raya

She told Shareena what she had written, and pressed the send-button when Shareena nodded.

"What now? How will she receive what you wrote?"

"I just sent it to her. Her cellphone will announce that she got a message, and she will be able to read it."

"Impressive!"

Shareena jumped as the cellphone sounded.

Chuckling, Raya accessed the message. "See, that was Eliza. She writes: 'What do you need?' That's El, straight to the point." Raya grinned.

"What are you going to tell her?"

"Hm ... let's see." Raya thought for a bit and then started typing again:

First, I need you to trust me, and promise, not to freak out.

Again, she told Shareena what she had written and they waited for the response.

"Promised. Shoot!"

"Shoot?" Shareena asked wide-eyed.

Raya chuckled. "She just means, I shall proceed."

"Ah."

Do you remember TNG 'The Next Phase'? If not, check it out.

"I do not understand," Shareena admitted when Raya had told her what she had written.

"Uh ... you know TV?" Raya asked.

When Shareena nodded reluctantly, Raya explained, "Well, I was referring to a TV episode where two people were invisible to others."

Shareena's eyes went wide. "You mean there are other people invisible like us?"

"Nah, it's just a sci-fi series. It's not real. ... It's like theater or a fairy tale," she added when she saw Shareena's puzzled look.

"Ah."

"You mean you're out of phase but you can still type or what?"

Not sure about out of phase. But invisible and inaudible. Yes, I can still type, obviously. When can you be here? I need your brilliant mind and a functioning PC.

"Gimme 30 min."

Come through the back door. I'll leave it open.

"Her reaction is remarkable," noted Shareena.

Raya grinned. "Told you, people have changed."

"Indeed."

***

"That's Eliza," Raya said, when they watched a car coming up the driveway.

And she typed:

Come in and close the door. We'll be on the sofa in the living room.

They watched Eliza, who had just left her car, looking at her cellphone and then at the house. They saw her typing, and when she was done, she started for the back door, and Raya's cellphone sounded. While accessing the message, Raya ushered Shareena to the sofa.

"We?"

Raya responded:

Shareena and I. I'll explain as soon as the PC is fixed.

They heard the sound of Eliza's cellphone before she entered. Then the door closed and Eliza called, "Okay, I'm here. You can see and hear me, right?" She entered the living room and looked around before fixing her glance on the sofa. "You are both on the sofa? This had better not be some shitty joke, Ray." Her cellphone sounded and when she looked at it, it sounded a second time.

Yes, we can C and hear U.

Yes, we R on the sofa. Wish it was a joke, but it's not.

"Well I'll be damned!" Eliza exclaimed. "How'd you get into this mess?" She put her bag down and walked over to the sofa. Sitting down on the corner of the coffee table, she squinted at the sofa.

Before Shareena could stop her, Raya reached out and touched Eliza's knee.

Eliza jumped up and cursed, "Yikes!" Then she looked scrutinizingly at the sofa and stretched out her hand. "Ray?"

Raya reached out slowly and touched her hand. She saw and felt the effort it cost Eliza not to draw back. Gently she squeezed Eliza's hand and wanted to let go again, but Eliza caught her, sat back down on the table and started running her other hand up Raya's arm. "This is really you, huh?"

Raya squeezed her hand in response.

Shareena raised one eyebrow and said, "She really is a remarkable friend."

"Yes, she is," said Raya gravely.

Suddenly, Eliza stopped, drew her hand back and blushed. "Uh, I don't want to feel you up or something, but man, this is weird ... and ... well, I'm not used to recognizing people by feeling ... but I'd like to feel your hair and earrings ... I guess I could recognize those ... would that be okay?"

Raya squeezed Eliza's hand and guided it to her ears.

Amazed, Eliza felt first for the earrings, and then hesitantly brushed over Raya's face and hair. Then she leaned back and said, "Wow. I'm convinced. I can even smell your shampoo. Thanks. So, where's the other lady?" She reached out her hand and added grinning, "No worries, I'd just like to shake your hand."

Shareena looked at the outstretched hand, looked at Raya, her eyebrows raised in astonishment, looked back at Eliza's hand and hesitantly took it while she said, "Apart from you, no one has voluntarily touched me for 969 years now ... your friend is truly extraordinary."

Eliza squeezed Shareena's hand and said, "Amazing! I can feel the difference. Nice to meet you. Shareena, right?"

Shareena squeezed in response and Eliza grinned and said, "Cool." Suddenly Eliza looked pensively at the hand she was holding and said, "Hm ... I really can't see a darn thing but why doesn't my hand disappear as well when you're touching it? I mean, your clothes are obviously invisible, too ... uh ... you're wearing clothes, right?"

Shareena squeezed and the cellphone sounded. Eliza let go of Shareena's hand and looked at the message:

Any suggestions? Can U C the sofa we R sitting on?

Eliza looked closely at the sofa. "Now that you mention it, there are two areas that look slightly blurred. I'm sure they didn't before, though. Maybe it's related to how long you are in contact with something?" Eliza grabbed a doll from the side table. "Here, hold that."

The doll was taken out of her hand and seemed to hover in the air where, as Eliza now knew, Shareena was sitting. "Well, I can still see it. Keep it awhile and let's see what happens. In the meantime ... what about water, would you be visible in the rain or under the shower?"

Raya looked at Shareena, who shook her head and said, "I don't think so. No one ever seemed to notice me, even in the rain."

Raya said, "Well, maybe we should test it to be sure," and she typed:

Presumably not but let's test it. Bathroom. Now.

"Okay," said Eliza and got up, noting, "By the way, the doll is still visible but keep it, please."

The doll 'nodded', causing Eliza to shudder. "Man that does look spooky."

Raya took Eliza's hand, and they went to the bathroom.

When the water was turned on, Eliza said, "Cool! It's as I thought, you are visible ... well, not quite, I still can't see your hand but the water running over it, so the jet is deformed and I can, even if barely, make out the shape of your hand."

The water was shut off, and Eliza could see the towel being used. "Can't see you in the mirror, though. Hey, what about cream or make-up or something like that?"

The mirror cabinet was opened and a jar of powder make-up was 'flying' out. Eliza watched as the powder was applied, but it didn't take long for the first streaks to disappear. "Nah, you can stop. It seems like this has to do with your skin or aura or something ... I already can't see the first streaks anymore ... probably because it's just powder. The powder puff is still visible, though it starts getting blurry where you're holding it. Let's see how that doll is faring, and then I'd like to hear how you got into this mess ... ah, yeah, need to fix the computer first."

The doll was almost invisible to Eliza when they returned, so she took her bag and went over to the large desk in the corner of the living room.

***

It didn't take very long for Eliza to fix the computer, and when she was done, Raya, with Shareena's help, wrote down the basics of what had transpired 969 years ago, and how she had come to find Shareena.

When Eliza had read and they had answered all her questions as best as they could, they spent the rest of the day discussing the problem and its consequences, and the best way to proceed.

They decided to let Raya's mother in on the situation.

Eliza would spend the night on the sofa, and help them to convey their problem to Raya's mother the following day.

***

"That went well, so far," said Raya, when she settled down on the bed next to Shareena.

"Indeed, it did," acknowledged Shareena, "Though there are still a lot of obstacles and uncertainties remaining."

"Yeah, well, but let's take this as a first success and hope for the best, hm?"

"All right," said Shareena and smiled.

Raya snuggled into Shareena's arms again, and it didn't take long for both of them to fall asleep.

***

The next morning, Shareena awoke by a gentle hand caressing her breast. "Mmmh," she hummed in pleasure. "I love waking up like this."

Several seconds later, the hand froze in mid-motion and retracted. Shareena looked curiously at Raya, and when she saw the furiously blushing face of her love, she whispered in amusement, "Go back to sleep, darling, that was a very nice dream you were having."

Raya groaned and covered her face with her arm. Obviously her subconscious knew no reservation whatsoever. And if she put her rational thoughts aside for a moment, she couldn't deny that this felt completely right to her. And it wasn't just Shareena's beauty she felt drawn to, it was also her voice and the way she talked, the way she moved, the way she touched her ... the way she felt. There was a familiarity between them that simply couldn't be explained rationally. It was as if a part of her remembered Shareena. Finally admitting this, Raya made a conscious decision. She would trust her feelings. And taking her arm from her face, she turned onto her side and looked at Shareena who regarded her curiously. And as she reached out and caressed Shareena's face, reveling in the familiar feeling, a wide smile spread across Shareena's face. And when their lips finally met, they both whimpered from the intensity of the feeling.

***

About an hour later, Shareena went to the bathroom and stopped in her tracks when she heard Eliza exclaim, "Jesus Christ on a cracker!"

Shareena looked curiously at Eliza who was still lying on the sofa and was staring at her slack-jawed. Surprised, Shareena asked, "You can see me?"

Eliza, suddenly realizing that she was staring at the gloriously naked lover of her best friend, blushed profusely. And averting her gaze, she apologized, "Uh ... sorry. Yeah, I can see you, though somewhat blurred. And I can hear you, too."

Raising an eye-brow, Shareena tilted her head and said, "Intriguing!" Still needing to go to the bathroom, she added, "I will be right back."

Eliza groaned and mumbled to herself, "Oh my god, I can hear them ... that wasn't a dream ... Jesus H. Christ! They were just doing it and I could hear them ..."

Shareena could barely make out what Eliza was mumbling. Chuckling, she closed the bathroom door.

Eliza, who had thought her already gone, groaned loudly and pulled the blanket over her head.

***

Raya was delighted when she learned that they were visible again. However, she sobered immediately when she learned that Eliza had overheard them, much to the amusement of Shareena who really couldn't understand why the two women were so easily embarrassed.

At some point over breakfast, Raya became pale and froze.

"What is wrong?" Shareena asked worried.

Raya breathed, "What if we just infected Eliza? What if she can only see us because she's now like us?"

Eliza choked on her coffee.

"I do not believe that to be possible, Raya," said Shareena reassuringly.

"Why not? Things we touch get infected, too," Raya argued.

"But big things only after we were in contact with them for a long time. Eliza is not that small and neither of us has touched her for long."

"But I slept on the sofa. And that had become blurry, too, so perhaps it was infected ... ," Eliza said with visible unease.

"Calm down, both of you!" said Shareena gently but firmly. "Why don't we just try it? We can go outside and see if other people can see us."

"You're right," said Eliza.

"I'll call my mom," said Raya and left to get her phone.

***

Relieved, when her mother could hear Raya, the three women started an eager discussion about what might have caused their reappearance, and in the end they agreed that the most plausible reason was that it had to do with being away from the clearing for so long. They surmised that if they were to step into the clearing, they would probably disappear again.

Despite that probability, Shareena was reluctant to give up her home of almost a thousand years. Yes, she had spent many years of loneliness there, but there had been many happy times as well, and those sweet memories were, what made her heart ache at the prospect of never returning.

She was greatly relieved when Raya offered that they could go visit from time to time. Now that they knew that the effect was only temporary, they could plan for it beforehand.

***

And so, every once in a while, a trace of two pairs of footprints could be seen on the otherwise pristine sand.

###

### An Unusual Gift

Prologue

It was a cold winter's day and the wind blew harshly from the sea, rattling the shutters of the weather-beaten hut. Inside a middle-aged woman sat huddled in a threadbare blanket on a chair in front of the old iron potbelly stove. Casting a glance at a bucket full of shells that stood next to the door, she sighed. Today she would not be able to go to the beach.

A knock on the door caused the woman to look up. As the knock was repeated, she slowly got up. Brushing a white strand of hair out of her face that had escaped from her ponytail, the only white strand in her otherwise dark brown hair, she shuffled to the door. Opening the door as much as the security chain would allow, she peeked outside and recognised the postman by his uniform.

"Good day, Miss Davidson," called the postman loudly to be heard over the howling wind. "I have a registered letter for you."

Without a word, the woman closed the door in order to release the chain. Reopening the door she placed the bucket of shells behind it to prevent the wind from smashing it open and held out her hand.

"If you would sign here please," said the postman and handed her the registration receipt and a pen.

Wordlessly the woman adjusted the blanket so that it wouldn't slip from her shoulders, took the pen and receipt, and pressing the piece of paper against the doorframe, she scribbled her name on the indicated line and returned the receipt to the postman.

"Thank you. And here's your letter," said the postman and handed the letter to the still silent woman. "Good bye, Miss Davidson."

"Good bye," the woman whispered almost inaudibly; and as soon as the postman had turned to go, she closed the door and secured the chain.

Unconsciously brushing the white strand of hair out of her face yet again, she leant back against the door and stared at the letter.

She knew what it contained, or at least she could guess. She had received similar letters before. She could not fulfil their demands. And they had disconnected her phone, which she didn't use anyway, and, what was somewhat harder to bear, her electricity. This letter came from the municipal offices, and as she opened it, her guess was confirmed that it was about the water bill. If she didn't settle the bill within 10 days, they would disconnect her water. Sighing, she put the bucket of shells back in its place next to the door, went over to her desk and placed the letter on top of the neatly arranged stack of bills. As she did so, the blanket brushed against a pencil next to the stack, causing it to lie askew. The woman noticed immediately and adjusted the pencil so that it lay exactly aligned with the papers. She let her glance wander over the other items on the desk; a pen holder she had once made for her mother from toilet paper rolls, decorated with little shells; a pair of scissors in front of it, perfectly aligned with the old brown writing pad; and a collection of various shells, lined up along the pen holder. She took one of the bigger shells and gently stroked it. Sighing, she put the shell back in its place. And casting a last glance at the shells, she turned and shuffled to the kitchen dresser at the far end of the room. She opened the bottom doors of the dresser, where she kept all her supplies. There wasn't much left - a jar half-full of mustard, an almost empty packet of oatmeal, perfectly aligned with a metal box that a woman from the village had brought filled with homemade cookies for her mother, and in which she now kept salt crackers, and a box of herbal tea. She took out the box of salt crackers, closed the doors, and walked back to the chair in front of the stove.

Before opening the metal box, she reached for the little silver amulet that hung from a chain around her neck. Staring into space, she caressed the amulet with her thumb. It was the only thing of value her mother had left her. It was old, very old, having been passed down from her great grandmother and her ancestors before. On the front there was an engraved stylised horse, and on the back, somewhat faded by time, there were runes. Not even her great-grandmother had known their meaning anymore but she had recalled that when she was still young, her mother had told her that they contained some ancient magic and that the amulet should never fall into the wrong hands.

She wondered what kind of magic they contained. It didn't seem to have helped her in any kind of way, nor did it seem to have helped her mother or her grandmother for that matter. If she were asking for advice, everybody would probably tell her to sell the amulet to settle her debts. But although not knowing what the magic was good for, she would never even consider selling the amulet, and she did not ask anybody for advice. Despite having lived here all her life, she didn't have any friends, and she didn't like talking to strangers. Her mother had been the only person she had felt comfortable talking to; and her grandmother, but she was long dead, and her mother had followed her last year. Her mother had been very worried about her when she became ill. But she had assured her mother that she would be fine. Her mother had saved a little money. However, by the time her mother died after almost two years of illness, the savings were almost gone. At the funeral her aunt had asked if she needed help. But she had just shaken her head. She didn't know her aunt. She had only seen her a few times in her life. She lived far away in another part of the country, and she hadn't bothered to come when her mother was ill; nor had anyone else of the family. Not that her mother would have minded; she hadn't been on the best terms with her sister and her family anyway. So, why had her aunt suddenly bothered to ask if she needed help? And how could she have helped her anyway? She probably just wanted the land and the amulet to sell, and would have seen to it that her niece was 'taken care of' elsewhere. Clutching the amulet, she whispered silently, "Don't worry Mother, I will see to it that it won't fall into the wrong hands," and determinedly she opened the box of crackers.

Chapter 1

The moving company had just left. Sitting down on a packing box in the hallway, Andrea Beck let out a deep breath.

"Mum!" her eight-year-old daughter called as she came noisily rushing down the stairs.

"Yes, Mia?" asked her mother wearily.

"Can I go down to the beach?" pleaded Mia excitedly.

Andrea reflected the request for an instant. Much as she was reluctant to let her daughter go, she knew it was a very safe, close-knit community here; and the wide, long beach stretched out just at the bottom of the gentle slope behind their new back yard. Only a few metres behind the gate, six wooden steps led down to the fine sand. Andrea realised that her daughter was growing up fast and that if they were going to live in this environment this was going to be part of Mia's routine.

"All right, Mia," said Andrea reluctantly, caressing a lock of hair off her daughter's face. "But don't be too long okay?"

"When shall I be back?" asked Mia, looking at her watch.

"Let's say in about half an hour," said Andrea. "Aunt Eva will come over at noon to help me unpack, and she promised to bring lunch as well."

"Oh," said Mia, delighted about seeing her aunt, but slightly apprehensive about the promised lunch, "I hope she doesn't bring one of her experiments."

"I'm sure she will bring something you like," said Andrea. "Now, don't forget your jacket. It's windy outside."

"I won't," promised Mia, already on her way to the living room from where she could go into the back yard.

#

A happy smile on her face, Mia traversed the garden with a bounce in her steps. Sometimes she still missed her father, but today everything was far too exciting to dwell on memories. Mia loved her new home. She knew the house and the surrounding area very well, as they had often visited her aunt here. They were so lucky that just when they needed to find a new home, her aunt had married and moved out of her house. It was just a small cottage with the bathroom, kitchen and living room downstairs and two small attic rooms upstairs; but Mia's room had a view of the sea, and that, thought Mia, made up for everything. She loved the sea; and it was awesome that now even at times when she couldn't actually be on the beach, she could still see it by just looking out of her window.

The old wrought iron gate squeaked familiarly as Mia opened it. Her aunt had told her that she hadn't wanted it to be replaced when she had the house built, because she thought it added charm to the garden. Mia's mother thought it was a monstrosity; far too large for the small garden, and even worse, someone had once stuccoed the old stone pillars and decorated them with shells. Aunt Eva thought it was done quite artfully. Her mother thought it utterly kitschy. Mia loved shells in all their various forms and she loved the old gate. She hoped that her mother would not replace it.

Closing the squeaky gate, Mia carefully descended the weathered steps, holding onto the old wooden rail. Stepping onto the sand, she took a few steps towards the water before she halted. Closing her eyes, she spread out her arms and breathed in deeply the fresh, salty air, feeling the strong wind ruffling her shoulder-long hair and tugging at her parka and her jeans. She knew, she should put her hood up so as not to catch a cold, but she so relished in the feeling of the wind in her hair, and she wanted to enjoy it at least for a bit longer before doing so.

Finally, when her face started burning slightly, she put up the hood and fastened it. Taking a look at her watch, she decided that she could probably make it to the pier and be back in time, and she started walking down the beach.

On her way, she walked closer to the water and started picking up shells and putting them in her pockets. Her mother would tell her that she should stop collecting shells, and that she already had enough; but Mia didn't care. She just couldn't help herself. It was as if the shells were calling out to her to pick them up and take them with her. And so she did. At home she would meticulously sort them by colour and size and put them into their respective boxes, while those of a rare shape as well as the sea stars and other specimens she would put on display on one of her many shelves. With a smile on her face, she picked up a small white shell. She already had three boxes of small white shells. But this one was perfect; no crack, no broken edge, and on the inside it had a beautiful pink hue. Almost reverently, Mia caressed the smooth inside of the little shell - so beautiful. Carefully, she placed the little shell with the others in her pocket and went on.

Halfway to the pier, Mia looked at her watch and realised that she wouldn't make it to the pier but rather had to return immediately if she wanted to be back in time. Thus, she turned around and hurried back, this time without looking at the ground, and she noticed in the distance the figure of a woman sitting on a dune close to her home, a blanket over her shoulders, her long hair fluttering in the wind. Getting closer, Mia was certain that she had never seen the woman before. Mia thought she looked sad the way she sat there, unmoving, staring out to the sea.

Mia knew she shouldn't talk to strangers, but the woman looked so lost and forlorn that Mia felt compelled to at least greet her, and she said, "Good morning!"

The woman glanced at her surprised but did not reply; then she turned away again and continued staring at the sea.

Shrugging, Mia went on, heading towards the steps.

#

"Oooh, you made pizza!" exclaimed Mia delighted as her aunt uncovered the large tray she had brought. She had been a tad worried about what Aunt Eva would bring for lunch. Her aunt earned her living through culinary skills. She wrote articles for several magazines, gave cooking courses, and she had her own website where she shared her more unconventional experiments. It was those unconventional experiments that Mia dreaded. She and her mother had often been subjected to Aunt Eva's first tries, and while some of them were really good, many of them were far too unconventional for Mia's taste. But her home-made pizza was one of Mia's favourite dishes.

"Indeed, and I didn't even try something new," said Aunt Eva with a wink. "I thought you'd have enough new experiences to cope with, so I've made the two varieties you like best."

"Thank you!" said Mia with a face-splitting smile on her face.

Mia listened to the adults talking, while she devoured her pizza at the table in the living room, surrounded by moving boxes.

"And how do you like your new room, Mia?" asked Aunt Eva.

Swallowing a bite of her pizza, Mia said, "I love it! You know that I've always loved the view. And now I can go to the beach on my own whenever I like!"

"Well, not quite," reminded Mia's mother.

Mia rolled her eyes. "I know I have to ask first."

"Good," said her mother.

"Are you still collecting shells?" asked Aunt Eva.

"Yes!" said Mia, "Today I found some really pretty ones. Would you like to see them? I haven't had time to sort them yet."

"When you have finished eating," said Aunt Eva.

"I'm finished," said Mia, stuffed the last bit of pizza in her mouth and wiped her hands on the paper napkin.

Aunt Eva laughed. "But we need to clear the table first."

"You two go admire your shells, I will clear the table," said Mia's mother.

"Yay! Thank you, Mum!" exclaimed Mia and dashed into the hall to fetch the shells that were still in her parka pocket.

Putting a hand on her sister's shoulder, Aunt Eva said, "Don't worry, Andy, I'll help you later."

"It's all right," said Andrea, "I'm glad someone shares her enthusiasm."

Later, as Andrea was finished clearing the table, she joined her sister and her daughter on the sofa as they were just admiring a small white shell. Pointing at the shell, she asked, "Why do you keep collecting these? You've already got at least five boxes of them."

"It's only three boxes," said Mia. "The others are bigger. And this one is special. Look at the inside - it's so pretty."

Her mother shrugged. "It looks like an ordinary white shell to me."

Looking at her sister, Aunt Eva shook her head, smiling, and she said to Mia, "It is a very pretty shell, Mia, and I'm sure it appreciates that you notice its individual beauty."

"Oh, come on," said Andrea, "It's not even a living being anymore, it's just a skeleton."

"You are being too scientific," scolded Aunt Eva, "Who knows, maybe even shells have spirits. And even if they don't, isn't it a precious gift that your daughter has a sense for seeing the special in the ordinary?"

"I guess so," admitted Andrea, "But there's no need to talk about shells as if they were living beings with feelings."

"Aunt Eva?" asked Mia, suddenly reminded of the woman she had seen on the beach.

"Yes, Mia?"

"When I was at the beach earlier, there was a woman sitting on a dune. She looked so very sad. But she didn't even respond to my greeting. Do you know her?"

"How did she look?" asked Eva.

Looking at the ceiling, Mia tried to recall the image of the woman. "She had long dark hair, but one strand of it was white like the shell. She had very blue eyes. She was wearing jeans, she had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and she was barefoot."

"How old was she?" asked Eva.

Mia shrugged. "I don't know. She didn't have a wrinkled face like Grandma. But she was older than you, I think."

Pursing her lips, Eva shook her head and said, "I don't think I know anyone who would fit your description. I suppose she is a tourist who didn't bring appropriate clothing, and therefore she made use of a blanket."

"Why are you so interested in this woman?" asked Andrea.

Shrugging again, Mia said, "I don't know. She just looked so sad. I thought maybe Aunt Eva knows her and could cheer her up."

"No," said Eva, "I don't know her."

"Well," said Andrea, getting up, "I need to do some unpacking now. Are you going to help me, Sis?"

"Sure," said Eva. And as she got up, she looked back at Mia, who still seemed to be wondering about the strange woman, and she said, "Don't worry, Mia, I'm sure she has friends of her own who will cheer her up."

Chapter 2

When Mia woke up the next morning a smile lit up her face, and scrambling out of bed, she hurried to the window. The sun was just rising over the horizon and the colour play on the sky was breathtaking. Mia stood at the window watching until the colours had faded. It was a beautiful sunny day with only a few clouds in the sky, and Mia quickly dressed. She wanted to go to the beach as soon as possible.

After breakfast, Mia grabbed her parka and headed for the beach. It had taken her a while to convince her mother to get up and prepare breakfast. Mia would have been content to eat a banana, but her mother didn't want to let her go without a proper breakfast. Sometimes, Mia thought, her mother really worried too much. After all, she wasn't a baby anymore.

When she had climbed down the steps and looked around, she saw that the sad lady was already there, sitting at the same spot she had sat the day before. Mia walked over to her and greeted, "Good morning!"

Looking at Mia, the woman seemed to search Mia's face as if wondering why she was talking to her.

"Are you mute?" asked Mia. "I've seen a film about deaf-mute people. They talk in sign language."

The woman shook her head and whispered, "No."

"Ah, that's good, because I can't talk in sign language," said Mia smiling. "Are you a tourist?"

Furrowing her brow, the woman shook her head.

"Why are you so sad?" asked Mia bluntly.

The woman looked at her surprised, then her brows furrowed and she said, "I ... I cannot explain," her voice yet again barely more than a whisper.

"Ah," said Mia, "Adults stuff, hm?" and not waiting for a reply, she asked, "Would you like to collect shells with me?"

Yet again, the woman raised her eyebrows in surprise, and with a faint smile appearing on her face, she nodded.

"Great!" said Mia, "Come." And Mia was about to turn towards the pier, when the woman shook her head and pointed in the opposite direction.

"You want to go searching for shells over there?"

The woman nodded.

"All right," said Mia, and they started walking towards the shorter end of the beach, where at this time the water had receded so far that you could get to a part of the beach that was inaccessible at high tide. When Mia realised that the woman was heading there, she stopped and said, "Wait! I'm not allowed to go there. It's dangerous."

The woman turned and looked at Mia. Then she looked out to the sea and said quietly, "We have about two hours before the tide comes in."

"But I'm not allowed to go there," Mia insisted. It wasn't that she wouldn't have been thrilled to go to the forbidden part of the beach, but going there with someone she'd only just met was definitely too adventurous for her liking.

The woman looked at Mia for a while; then she smiled and nodded. Turning her gaze to the ground, she spread her blanket, bent down and started picking up shells, putting them on the blanket.

Relieved, Mia started collecting as well. But when she put the first shells in her pocket, the woman pointed at the blanket and said, "Put them here."

Mia looked at the woman with confusion. Why should she put her treasures on the woman's blanket? But when the woman smiled encouragingly, Mia thought, "Oh well, if it makes her happy." And with a sigh, she took the shells from her pocket and put them on the blanket. After all, she had more than enough shells at home, and now that she lived here, she could get more whenever she liked ... as long as her mother didn't object, of course. As Mia went on picking up shells, she noticed, that the woman was not just randomly putting the shells on the blanket; instead she sorted them by colour and size, so that there were now several little piles on the blanket. Mia let out a delighted squeal, "You're sorting them!"

The woman smiled and nodded.

"I thought I was the only one who did that," said Mia excitedly, "I've never seen anyone else doing it. Oh, this is so cool!"

The woman's smile grew wider, and Mia looked at her with a radiant smile that lit up her whole face. After a few seconds, the woman averted her gaze and said, "Let us go on."

"Okay," said Mia and went on collecting shells, this time with more enthusiasm than ever before.

Some time later, the woman straightened, and pointing to a spot a little higher up on the beach, she said, "Let us go there." And taking up one corner of the blanket, she gestured to Mia to take the opposite corner.

Thinking, that the woman wanted to make sure that the incoming tide didn't wet her blanket, Mia helped her drag the blanket to the spot she desired. When the woman stopped and they put down the blanket, she said, "I will be right back."

"Okay," said Mia, and she sat down and looked at the piles of shells they had collected. "Awesome!" she thought, though as she scrambled onto the blanket to put the shells back in order that had shifted, she wondered why the woman would even collect broken shells. Mia gulped as she saw the woman returning with a rather long piece of driftwood. What did she want to do with it? Was she going to destroy the precious shells? Or did she want to ... Mia started scrambling backwards, stammering, "I ... I only put them back in order, I didn't mean to take them."

The woman looked at her strangely, and shaking her head, she put the driftwood down and started dragging it over the sand, producing a broad, flat swathe next to the blanket. Then she kneeled down and looked at the piles of shells. After pondering for a while, she took a handful of the darkest small shells and started putting them on the flattened sand.

Mia watched her curiously, and for the first time she noticed that the woman had six fingers on each hand. Mia's heart jumped. She had had six fingers as well. She didn't remember, but her mother had told her, when they had looked at baby-photos where she had both her hands bandaged, that this was because she had had six fingers on both hands and they had them removed at the hospital. She still had faint scars between her fingers, but her mother had told her that they would fade with time. This woman however still had all her fingers, and this didn't seem to cause her any bother; and Mia wondered why hers had to be removed.

Some time later, the woman dragged the driftwood a bit further, and then went on putting shells on the sand.

"You are painting a picture," exclaimed Mia, when she suddenly understood what the woman was doing.

The woman looked at Mia, and brushing the white strand of hair off her face, she smiled and nodded. Then, with a gesture, she invited Mia to help her.

"I've never done this before," said Mia, reluctant to mess up the woman's handiwork.

The woman just smiled and said, "You will learn."

When they were finished and Mia had placed the last shell in the ornamental picture, Mia looked at the collage in awe.

"Wow, it looks gorgeous!"

The woman just smiled at Mia.

"Can we do this again?" asked Mia.

The woman nodded.

Suddenly, Mia looked at her watch and exclaimed, "Drat! I should have been home 20 minutes ago. I must go." Getting up she said hurriedly, "I can't come in the afternoon, because we are going shopping with my aunt. Will you be here tomorrow morning?" and as the woman nodded, Mia said, "Great! See you tomorrow then." Then she waved goodbye to the woman and started running home. After a few metres she halted, and turning around she added quickly, "I hope my mother will let me go. But I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."

When Mia was climbing up the steps, she could already see her mother coming towards the gate. Sighing, she hurried up the last steps.

"Mia! Where on earth have you been?" cried her mother as she opened the gate for her daughter.

"I'm sorry, Mum," said Mia, out of breath. "I forgot the time."

"I've been worried about you," scolded her mother.

Taking her mother's hand, Mia said excitedly, "Come. I show you what we did." And she dragged her mother through the gate.

"We?" asked her mother as she followed her daughter down the steps.

"The sad lady I told you about yesterday," said Mia. "Perhaps she is still there; then you can meet her."

But as they stepped on the beach, the woman was nowhere to be seen. The picture, however, was still there and Mia dragged her mother along the beach to show it to her.

"Wow, you did this? It's beautiful," said her mother.

"We did it together," corrected Mia. "She did the outline and I filled it in."

"That's wonderful," said Andrea. "A pity that she is no longer here, I would have liked to meet her."

"She'll be back tomorrow," said Mia, and in a subdued tone she asked, "Can I come here tomorrow?"

Looking at her daughter, Andrea hesitated.

"Please, Mum!" begged Mia. And then suddenly she had an idea, and she added, "I will take a box of my shell collection, so we won't need so much time for gathering shells."

Andrea sighed and relented. "All right, Mia." She knew she wouldn't have much time for her daughter during these holidays as she had to get the house in order. Thus, she was glad that Mia had found a friend and that they were spending their time in such a harmless endeavour. And the prospect of diminishing the masses of shells that cluttered up her daughter's room without serving any purpose was an additional bonus.

"Thank you, Mum!" exclaimed Mia and hugged her mother fiercely.

Chapter 3

Every day Mia went to the beach to create shell-collages with her new friend, and each time she took a box of her shell collection with her until one day there were only her most precious shells left. That day she took one of her treasured shells to the beach, and when she reached the woman who was already waiting for her, she held out the shell and said, "Here, I brought this for you. But please keep it. It's so beautiful. It would be sad if we would lose it in a picture."

The woman put both her hands over Mia's hand, in which she held the shell, and she said quietly, "Keep it. And hold it dear. It is a very rare shell."

The woman had never touched her before, and although the woman's hands were icy cold, Mia felt oddly warmed by this simple gesture. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she nodded and said, "I will."

The woman smiled, and as she retracted her hands, Mia said apologetically, "I don't have any boxes of shells left. And I don't want to use my precious shells for the pictures. I guess we'll have to spend more time gathering today."

It seemed as if the woman hadn't heard her. Staring at the end of the sandy beach, she said as if from a distance, "I would like to give you something. But I cannot reach it." And turning her gaze to look at Mia, she asked, "Would you come with me?"

"Where to?" asked Mia.

The woman pointed in the direction of the forbidden part of the beach.

"Oh," said Mia, and pondering for a moment, she reluctantly said, "Okay. But we have to be quick. If my mother finds out, she'll never let me come to the beach alone again."

The woman nodded and said, "We will make it quick. I promise."

"All right," said Mia, and they headed for the end of the sandy part of the beach.

As they passed the steps to Mia's home, she glanced up to see if her mother was watching. But no one was to be seen. Slightly relieved, Mia walked on.

They rounded the cliff, which was only possible at low tide, and Mia saw for the first time that there was a cave at the end of that little beach. No, Mia corrected herself, it was more like a short tunnel, as there was light on the other side. Excited by the forbidden adventure, Mia followed the woman over the beach and through the tunnel. It was mostly dry now, but Mia guessed that at high tide it would be flooded.

At the end of the tunnel Mia gaped in surprise and exclaimed, "Wow!"

They were standing in front of a circular gorge, surrounded by high rocks but open to the sky. The woman pointed to a small hole in the rocks, directly over a large cave-like area, and she said, "It is hidden in there."

"What is it, and how do you know it is there?" asked Mia.

"A metal box," said the woman. "I hid it there."

"How did you get up there?" Mia wanted to know.

"I climbed up," said the woman, "But too much time has passed. The lower part of the wall broke off, and it was hollowed out by the water even more. Perhaps you can reach it when you climb onto my shoulders."

"We can try," said Mia, though she was not too sure if it was possible. The hole was rather high up on the wall.

The woman crouched down so that Mia could climb onto her shoulders. Then she straightened carefully and stepped in front of the caved in area below the hole. "Can you reach it?" she asked, not able to look up.

"No," said Mia, "But perhaps I could if I stood up on your shoulders."

"Then do so," said the woman, and she stepped back a bit to assist Mia.

When they had finally managed, and Mia was standing on the woman's shoulders, Mia exclaimed, "Yes, now I can reach it!" Hesitating for a moment, Mia reached into the dark hole. She shuddered, thinking what might be hiding in the darkness. Then her fingers suddenly touched something hard. Fumbling around, she felt along the partly rough, partly smooth, hard surface, until she could finally manage to grasp the box. "I've got it!" she exclaimed, but as she was about to pull it out, a spider scrambled out of the hole, causing Mia to screech; and in the attempt of stepping backwards, she would have lost her balance on the woman's shoulders had the woman not reacted immediately and steadied her.

"What are you doing?" asked the woman, her voice sounding stressed for the first time.

"There was a spider," explained Mia. "It scared me."

"Have you got the box?"

"No, I dropped it. Wait," said Mia and reached for the box, "Okay, I've got it," and she handed the box to the woman.

When Mia was finally standing on solid ground again, she watched the woman struggling to open the lid of the partly corroded box. At last, the lid gave way, and the woman put box and lid on the ground and took out a piece of cloth. She carefully unfolded the cloth, and Mia breathed, "Wow, it's a real treasure!" as she saw the silver amulet on a chain revealed.

The woman didn't respond, and Mia watched her as she reverently caressed the amulet. A moment later, the woman came out of her reverie, and she put the cloth in the box and opened the clasp of the chain. Then she stepped in front of Mia, and putting the chain around her neck she said, "This amulet has been passed down in my family for centuries. It was once said that it contained magic and should not fall into the wrong hands." She gently adjusted Mia's brown locks and stepped back. "Please, take good care of it."

A lump formed in Mia's throat as she carefully stroked the amulet, and looking into the woman's eyes she promised, "I will." And as the woman smiled and nodded, Mia opened her parka and let the amulet glide under her T-Shirt to make sure she wouldn't lose it.

"We should go back, so your mother won't get angry," said the woman, and Mia nodded.

They headed back for the beach, and after collecting enough shells they began to create another shell-collage.

Mia was just adding the last shells to the picture when an old fisherman approached, carrying something wrapped in a newspaper.

"Good day!" he greeted Mia.

Looking up, Mia smiled and returned the greeting.

The fisherman crouched down and handing the parcel to Mia, he said, "I've seen you making the shell-collages, and I wanted to give you this."

Mia could guess that the parcel contained a fish, a rather large one at that, and she said rather surprised, "Thank you!"

Andrea started to run. She had wanted to finally meet her daughter's strange friend, but when she saw her daughter alone on the beach with a scruffy old bloke, fear gripped at her heart, and she frantically raced towards her daughter.

"Get away from my daughter!" she cried before she reached them.

Surprised, Mia turned and saw her mother skidding to a halt next to her.

The old fisherman slowly got up, and lifting his cap he greeted her, "Madam," and explained, "I've only been giving your daughter a cod I caught today."

"Why?" Andrea wanted to know. "Why are you giving my daughter a fish?"

"Ah, don't be alarmed, madam. You're Mrs Thomas' sister, aren't you?" asked the fisherman, and when Andrea nodded, he continued, "I'm Frank Petersen. The collages made by your daughter just remind me of someone, and I didn't want the past to be repeated. So I brought the fish to show my appreciation."

"What are you talking about?" asked Andrea, still suspicious, while Mia was looking from one to the other, not quite comprehending what was going on.

The man stepped around the collage, sat down on a dune, and with a gesture of his arm he invited Andrea to sit down as well. As Andrea hesitantly followed his invitation, Mia looked around for her friend, and not seeing her, she wondered when and why she had left.

"I was still a young lad, when she died," started the fisherman while he was stuffing his pipe.

"Who?" asked Andrea.

"Miss Davidson," said the Mr Petersen. "She was living in the old house, up there where Mrs Thomas built her house." He pointed in the direction of Mia's new home. "No one noticed till the postman complained about the overflowing mailbox. Seems the poor thing starved to death."

"Oh God," uttered Andrea.

"Why did no one help her?" asked Mia.

"No one really knew her," said Mr Petersen. "Didn't talk much, she didn't. Always used to sit here, 'painting' pictures with shells she had collected. Beautiful pictures they were, and just like yours, little one." Staring out to the sea, his hand with the pipe resting on his knee, the fisherman's voice grew distant, and it appeared as if his mind had retreated into the past. "Good times they were. The bay still held fish in abundance, and most of the men in the village were fishermen. When she died it was as if part of the sea died with her. By the time I was twenty there were only three fishermen left; my father, my grandfather and I. All the others had either moved away or they took on other jobs." Shaking his head, Mr Petersen turned towards Andrea. "People think I'm crazy, but I tell you there was something about those pictures...," and looking at Mia he said, "And I swear, since you've been making the pictures I've caught fish in heaps, like in the olden days."

"My friend and I did them together," said Mia, excited at the prospect that their pictures might be magical. "She showed me how to do them." And to her mother she said, "Did you see her? You must have met her when you came."

Andrea shook her head, "No, I only saw you and Mr Petersen."

Mr Petersen furrowed his brow. "I've seen you almost every day for some time now, but I've never seen anyone with you here on the beach."

"But you must have seen her. We were always together and she was still here when you came," said Mia.

Shaking his head, the old fisherman said, "There was only you here. She must have left before I came."

"Perhaps if you describe her to Mr Petersen, he would know who she is?" suggested Andrea.

Mia was about to describe her friend when she suddenly spotted her in the distance. "There she is!" Mia exclaimed and waved to her friend.

The woman waved back, a radiant smile on her face.

Seeing the woman this time, Mr Petersen exclaimed, "Blimey! That's Miss Davidson." And as he, Andrea and Mia witnessed the woman disappearing into thin air, he took off his cap, and scratching his head, he said. "No one's going to believe me. They'll think I'm just spinning a yarn yet again."

"I believe you," said Mia, still staring at the spot where her friend had disappeared, "I know you aren't spinning a yarn," and she wiped her face with her sleeve.

"I'm your witness," said Mia's mother dumbfounded.

"Thanks," said Mr Petersen, and getting up, he pointed with his pipe at the parcel with the fish, which Mia had placed on the sand, and said to Andrea, "You should take the fish home. Would be a pity if it was wasted." And turning to Mia he said, "And you, lassie, don't stop making the pictures. Keep'em coming and I'll provide you with fish in return."

"No, Mr Petersen, we can't accept such an offer," said Andrea, and before Mr Petersen could answer, Mia asked sadly, "What if it was only because of her? What if they aren't magic when I'm doing them on my own?"

Scratching his bristly chin, the old fisherman shook his head and said, "Nay, she taught you how to do it, so it'll be fine. Who knows, perhaps she's gone back to heaven now because you're ready to do them on your own. But don't worry, lass. Your pictures are fine, magic or not." And picking up the parcel with the fish, he held it out to Andrea and said in a serious tone, "Look lady, I don't know if those collages truly lure the fish here, but I do know that the pictures of your daughter put a smile on this old face," he pointed at his weather-beaten face, and continued, "They make me think of the good old times, and they give me hope that there's still beauty in this world. No one ever thanked Miss Davidson for her pictures, and she starved to death at a time when the sea was abundant with fish. I was just a boy then, and I didn't know better. But I do now. Your daughter's pictures make a difference in my life. Please, let me give you something in return. And again he held out the fish.

This time Andrea accepted the offer, and she said, "Thank you. My name is Andrea, Andrea Beck, and this is my daughter Mia."

"Pleased to meet you," said the fisherman and lifted his cap. "I must get on with work now. Promise me that you'll come to me if you need help."

Andrea nodded, "All right."

"And you keep doing your pictures, little one."

"I will," promised Mia.

They watched Mr Petersen walk towards the pier, and then Andrea said, "Well, I guess we'd better head home now."

Mia nodded sadly, and taking her mother's hand, they both walked back towards the steps.

Epilogue

When Mia and her mother were having dinner with Aunt Eva and they told her what had happened, Aunt Eva was quite impressed and she asked a lot of questions.

Suddenly Mia shouted, "I almost forgot!" and she pulled out the amulet from under her T-Shirt. As her mother reached for the amulet, Mia covered it with her hand and said, "She told me it's magical and I had to promise never to let it fall into the wrong hands."

"Who?" asked Andrea.

"Your ghost friend?" asked Aunt Eva.

"Yes," said Mia, and she told them about her adventure.

"That's extraordinary," said Aunt Eva, "Would you let us have a look at it?"

Mia hesitated, and she looked from her aunt to her mother, as if to gauge if she was allowed to do so. Finally, she reached for the clasp and said, "Okay, but you must both promise not to touch it."

"Promise," said her aunt readily.

Her mother rolled her eyes, but she promised as well.

Intrigued they all looked at the amulet, and as Mia turned it around, Aunt Eva said, "Wow, that looks like runes. You know, Mia, I think your Uncle Robert might be able to tell you what they mean. He is a historian after all, and deciphering old codices is his passion."

Snatching the amulet, Mia said, "I'm not letting it go!"

"You don't have to," said Aunt Eva. "We can take a photo of it and send it to him. What do you think? Wouldn't you like to know what they mean?"

"Hm ... okay, a photo would be all right I guess," said Mia.

Andrea went to fetch her camera, and after taking several photos of both sides of the amulet, they went to the computer to look at the images. Magnified on the screen, they could now see the faded runes much better. In the middle there were the signs:  and surrounding them in a circle were the signs:

Andrea sent a short email to her brother, asking him if he could possibly translate the runes from the amulet on the attached photo.

A few days later, Andrea received an email from her brother:

Hello Andrea, hello Mia,

That's a marvellous find you've got there! Where did it come from?

Of course I can't say for certain from a photo, but I'd estimate it to be 11th century, if not older.

The text is written in Rovás, ancient Hungarian runes, and I had to ask a colleague to translate them for me. They say: Isten veled. A táltos lelke sohasem hal meg.

In English: God is with you. The spirit of the táltos never dies.

A táltos was some kind of Hungarian shaman. The horse was a typical symbol for them. And you won't believe what I found out! The táltos were supposedly born with additional toes or fingers. Wasn't Mia born with six fingers? And our Grandma Ildíko was Hungarian! Isn't that exciting?!

Have you any plans next weekend?

I'd love to see this treasure with my own eyes.

Love to you both,

Robert

###

### Fénya and Elynor

It had been snowing all night, but now the sky was a deep blue, and the ice and snow were sparkling and glistening in the bright sunshine, while inside the old little wooden house the fire was crackling in the wood oven stove.

Elynor was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book, when her elfin friend, Fénya, spoke into the silence, "You should get out more."

"Hm?" hummed Elynor questioningly, looking at Fénya over the rim of her glasses.

"You should go out, it is such a beautiful day," said the elf.

"I am reading," stated Elynor, and turned her attention back to the book.

Fénya fluttered onto the book, and with one hand on her hip and the other pointing down on the pages, she said, "You have read this book three times already. It is time to go out and discover something new."

"Fénya, if you want to go out, please do so," said Elynor mildly annoyed.

"I was not talking about me. I was talking about you."

"I have no desire to go out, Fénya."

Sitting down on the book, Fénya looked up at Elynor and asked, "Don't you feel lonely?"

Raising an eyebrow, Elynor said, "It is hard to feel lonely when you are persistently reminded that you are not alone." Seeing the hurt look on the elf's face, Elynor sighed and relented, "I guess everyone feels lonely occasionally. Do you feel lonely now, Fénya?"

Shaking her head, Fénya said, "No. I just think you should go out more."

Elynor just rolled her eyes, and got up to put another log on the fire.

Ever since Fénya, the little elf, had become visible to Elynor, the fact that Elynor was living a rather solitary life had been nagging at Fénya. Actually, it had been nagging at her long before that...

***

Together with her clan, Fénya had been living near the old oak beside the little creek that marked the border of Elynor's large back garden. Fénya's clan was overseeing the whole garden, caring for all the plants and trees and flowers.

When Elynor moved into the house and planted new rose bushes in the back garden, Fénya's clan had welcomed the new flowers with delight. Fénya, however, felt more drawn to the new owner, than to the flowers. She asked the members of her clan if they also thought that Elynor looked sad. They shook their heads at her, telling her that she should focus her attention on the flowers, not on the human. But for some reason, Fénya couldn't help watching Elynor. She even followed her into the house, which not one of her clan had ever entered before.

The Elders warned Fénya that if the human caught sight of her, Fénya would be cast out from the clan, and would be bound to stay with Elynor until the human died. And thus, they advised her that she had better care for the flowers, and leave it to a faerie to help the human. However, Fénya had not seen any faerie caring for Elynor yet, and she was certain that Elynor needed company. After all, how could one be happy without company? So, Fénya set herself the task of helping Elynor to find a partner.

***

Elynor had been living in the little flat above the book store since she had been an apprentice. Over the decades, Elynor had become rather close to the owner of the store, Mayah, who treated her like a daughter. Mayah didn't have any living relatives, thus, when she died the previous spring, Elynor inherited everything, including the book store and the old house.

***

Spring went by, summer came and the book store was not going well. Elynor had not realised just how much the business had depended on Mayah.

Mayah had always chatted with the customers, and with her sociable and cheerful nature she had filled the store with life.

Elynor had not been particularly cheerful since Mayah's death, and she had never been very sociable. She was always polite to her customers, of course, and she knew the titles and authors of every book in the store, and she knew exactly where to find them. This extraordinary memory of hers was something Mayah had greatly admired.

***

One rainy midsummer day, Elynor had been sitting at her desk in the store, filling out a form to order books a customer had requested, when the door was opened, causing the wind chime at the entrance to tinkle.

Looking up from her task, Elynor noticed a middle-aged bespectacled man entering. He put his umbrella in the stand next to the door, and walked up to her desk.

"Good afternoon!" greeted Elynor. "What can I do for you?"

"I am searching for a guidebook about this city and the surrounding area," said the customer with a slightly foreign accent.

Smiling politely, Elynor pointed to the shelf next to the door and said, "On that shelf at the door, third row from the top."

"Thank you," said the customer. As he walked by one of shelves, a book suddenly fell to the floor. Startled, he looked down at the book, and crouching down to pick it up, he turned to Elynor and said, "I'm sorry. I don't know how this happened. I did not touch it." And as Elynor looked over the rim of her glasses with raised eyebrows, he asserted, "I really didn't."

Getting up, he looked at the title of the book – _How to compliment a woman_ – Shaking his head, he looked for the place where the book had fallen from. Putting the book back in its place, he went over to the guidebooks.

***

Two days later, another book fell off a shelf, and yet another bespectacled middle-aged man reassured Elynor that he had not touched the book, and he carefully put – _Classical Love Poems_ – back in its place.

***

When during the next week, three more books miraculously fell off shelves and were picked up by bespectacled middle-aged men who swore they had not touched the books, Elynor became truly annoyed. And as the latest bespectacled victim left the store, Elynor got up and locked the door. Letting her gaze wander over the shelves, she said angrily, "Whoever you are, stop harassing my customers and abusing my books!"

Suddenly, Elynor noticed out of the corner of her eye that a book right next to her was moving. With a quick motion, she grasped the book to pull it out and see who or what was pushing it. Instead, she dropped the book when she felt something else besides the book. Blinking in astonishment, Elynor looked at a tiny winged female who was sitting on the floor next to the book, rubbing her legs and muttering something in a language Elynor didn't understand.

"Uh... sorry, did I hurt you?" asked Elynor tentatively, and squatted down.

The creature uttered another string of strange words, which Elynor now thought, definitely sounded like cursing. Then the creature leaned back, and looking up at Elynor she said miffed, "I didn't know you could be _this_ quick!"

Raising an eyebrow at the creature, Elynor said, "And I didn't know that faeries are in the habit of harassing people and abusing books."

The creature jumped up in the air, and fluttering in front of Elynor's face, she gesticulated indignantly and said, "I am not a faerie, I am an elf! And I was not harassing anyone, I just wanted to help."

"By pulling books off the shelves that the customers did not even want?"

"By pointing out to them what they might find helpful," clarified the elf.

Casting a glance at the title of the book on the floor, Elynor asked, "How to overcome shyness? Why would I find this helpful... um, what is your name? My name is Elynor, as you probably know already."

"My name is Fénya. And I thought it might be helpful if you would overcome your shyness, since all these nice men seem to be unable to get my hints."

Looking speechlessly at Fénya for a while, Elynor asked, "Did it never occur to you that I don't want a man?"

Fénya squinted at Elynor, then her eyes suddenly widened and she exclaimed, "Oh! My apologies! It had indeed not occurred to me. I am sincerely sorry!"

Regarding the elf searchingly, Elynor said, "Does this mean you will now stop abusing my books?"

Fénya put her hand on her heart and said, "No pulling off books anymore!"

"Good," said Elynor and got up. Since it was closing time by now, she put the book back in its place, took the key from the door and went to the back-room to get her bag.

As she opened the back-door, Elynor noticed that Fénya had followed her, and she asked, "Are you not staying here?"

"No. I am going back with you, as always," said Fénya.

Looking blankly at the elf, Elynor muttered, "As always." And shaking her head, she stepped out and locked the door.

***

As Elynor opened the front door of the house and saw Fénya fluttering past her into the kitchen-living-room, Elynor paused before she followed the elf inside. Closing the door, she walked over to the kitchen table, put her bag on the chair and asked, "So, you belong to the house?"

"No," said Fénya and sat down on the table. "I belong to you now."

When Elynor saw the little elf sitting there with slumped shoulders and drooping wings, she sat down on the bench and asked gently, "Because I touched you?"

Shaking her head, Fénya sighed and said, "No, because you saw me." And the elf explained to Elynor what the Elders had told her, ending with, "So, now I am an outcast elf, bound to stay with you until you die."

Leaning back, Elynor regarded the elf thoughtfully, and then she asked, "What if I tell you that you are free to go?"

Shaking her head, Fénya said, "It won't help as it is a matter of elfin law."

"But they have cast you out," said Elynor.

"Yes, but I am still an elf," explained Fénya. "And that is not going to change, even though I am living with a human now."

Getting up to make herself a cup of tea, Elynor said, "How come that your elfin law doesn't care at all about what I want?" And while she prepared the tea, she continued, "I did not ask you to help me, you did that without my consent. I did not ask for being able to see you, it was an accident. And I did not agree to your living with me."

The elf stayed silent while Elynor waited for the water to boil.

When Elynor had poured herself a cup of tea, she turned and asked, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Fénya shrugged, and said listlessly, "I don't know. I have never drunk tea."

"Well, would you like to try some, or would you rather have something else?" asked Elynor.

As the elf only shrugged, Elynor said, "Look, I didn't mean to be rude, Fénya. I just think that your elfin law isn't exactly the fairest. I mean, you would certainly prefer to go back to your clan rather than staying with me, wouldn't you?"

Again, Fénya shrugged, and said, "I knew the risk. But I couldn't bear seeing you sad."

Elynor sighed. And pouring a cup of tea for Fénya, she took the cups to the table, sat down on the bench and said, "It was very kind of you to notice. However, I am not sad because I am alone, Fénya, I am sad because I am missing Mayah. And that is not something you can help with. I will get over it eventually, but it will take time. There is nothing you can do, really." Taking a sip of her tea, Elynor added, "But since we can't change what has happened, I guess we will just have to make the best of it, hm?"

Smiling faintly, Fénya got up and walked over to the tea cup. Spying over the rim, dipping a finger into the warm liquid and licking it, she exclaimed, "Mmh, I like this," and she cupped her hand and dipped it in the tea.

Looking thoughtfully at the elf, Elynor said, "We need to find something more suitable for you. Can't you at least get your things from your clan?"

"What things?"

"Well, like dishes for example," said Elynor.

"We don't have dishes as you do," said Fénya, "We drink the dew from the leaves, and the nectar from the plants, and in winter we gather snow. We eat berries and fruits and fungi and nuts. There is no need for dishes."

"Hm, that reminds me I should eat something," said Elynor and got up.

While she made herself a sandwich, she asked, "What about other possessions? Like clothes or books?"

Fénya fluttered onto the kitchen worktop and explained, "I don't have books. Only the clan in the city park, next to the library, has books. That's where I went to do human studies. And this is my only dress. When it is damaged,... well, formerly one of the weavers of my clan would have made me a new one. I don't know what I will do now."

Slicing an apple for Fénya and herself, Elynor asked, "What about the clan in the park? Couldn't they make you a dress? And couldn't you perhaps even join them?"

Shaking her head, Fénya explained, "No. I am an outcast now."

"So, being an outcast means no elf in the world will talk to you anymore? Gosh, your law is cruel!" said Elynor, and took their plates to the table.

"It's not just that they won't talk to me anymore," said Fénya and fluttered back to the table. "I won't be able to see them anymore. By becoming visible to you, they have become invisible to me. And this will remain so until you die. It may sound cruel, but our invisibility magic is the only means of protection we have when it comes to humans. Thus, when one of us becomes visible to a human, the Elders will know instantly, and they will immediately get together and cast the clan member out to protect the elfin folks."

Elynor was speechless. _So, much for the ray of hope that I might be able to get her to join another clan of her kind,_ thought Elynor, while she watched the elf eating a slice of the apple.

Later, Elynor asked, "Where do you normally sleep?"

"In winter in the old oak. The rest of the year, wherever I lie down, preferably on a patch of moss. I like it soft," said Fénya smiling.

"I see," said Elynor and proposed, "So, would you rather I let you out now?"

"No," said Fénya, "The cushion on the bench will do. I have slept there before."

"All right, have a good night then," said Elynor and headed for her bedroom."

"Good night," said Fénya, and fluttering onto the cushion, she curled up into a foetal position and closed her eyes.

***

The next morning, Fénya and Elynor had breakfast together, and after Fénya had promised, yet again, that she would not pull books off the shelves anymore, they both headed for the book store.

The day progressed rather quietly, with only a few customers actually buying anything. However, Fénya was concerned that Elynor was not talking to any of the customers aside from polite greeting and pointing them in the right direction. Thus, when an old lady entered the store in the early afternoon, whose appearance reminded Fénya of Mayah, Fénya decided to help Elynor to find a new partner.

Alas, Fénya's plan did not work as she had hoped, thus, ten minutes later Elynor shouted,

"You just scared away one of my best customers! Why the hell did you do this?"

"She looks like Mayah, and I ..." started Fénya but was interrupted by Elynor saying angrily, "She does not even remotely resemble Mayah! But even if she did, what would her looking like Mayah have to do with this?"

Looking down with embarrassment, Fénya mumbled, "I thought you might like her."

"I do like her, Fénya. She is... was one of my best customers."

"Then why did you not talk with her?" asked Fénya.

"Why would I talk with her?"

"Because she is a nice old lady," said the elf.

"Yes, she is a nice old lady, but we have nothing in common, Fénya."

"You both like books," argued Fénya.

"Fénya, she only buys books about knitting patterns, cookery and bakery recipes and the occasional cheap romance novel, unless she is buying something for one of her countless offspring. I don't read novels of that kind and I hate cooking, I have never baked anything in my life, and I wouldn't want to talk about knitting patterns if my life depended on it, and I'm not particularly fond of children either, unless they are sitting somewhere in a corner, reading a book _in silence_!"

"Gee, you are hard to please!" exclaimed Fénya.

"I am not asking to be pleased, Fénya, so stop trying."

"I just want to make you happy," said Fénya quietly.

"Stop scaring away my customers. That will make me very happy," said Elynor brusquely.

Crestfallen, Fénya fluttered over to the Ficus benjamina in the corner, sat down on a branch and hugged the stem.

Elynor was just about to apologise to the elf, when a customer entered, causing her to delay her intention.

As the customer left, having bought four books, Elynor was feeling much better, and turning to Fénya, she was about to speak when she saw the elf stroking the stem of the Ficus, and heard her gently talking in her elfin language. Regarding Fénya for a while, Elynor was thinking, and when the elf stopped talking and cast a glance at Elynor, Elynor asked, "Would you like to have a Ficus benjamina in the house, too?"

Hesitantly, Fénya asked, "Can we take this one to the house?" And as Elynor looked at her questioningly, Fénya explained, "He is very sad here. The kitchen window in the house gets more light. He would be far happier there."

"All right," said Elynor, "We will take him with us when we go home."

***

The following Saturday evening, Elynor was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, and watched Fénya, who was happily swaying on a branch of the Ficus, looking out the window. Taking another sip of the tea, Elynor said, "I have been thinking, Fénya. The place in the store where the Ficus stood looks depressingly empty now. And since tomorrow is Sunday, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to the garden centre and help me pick another plant for the store, one that would like the place."

Bouncing in the air, Fénya fluttered on the table, and exclaimed happily, "I would love to!"

***

The next morning, Fénya and Elynor were arguing in one of the aisles in the garden centre.

"Forget it, it is far too big."

"But she likes me," said Fénya, hugging the stem of the plant.

"Fénya, you are a garden elf, I am sure all plants like you."

"No, cacti don't. They are very particular about whom they like," explained Fénya seriously.

Rolling her eyes, Elynor said, "I am not searching for a cactus anyway, so just pick something a little smaller, will you?"

"But she would love the place," protested Fénya.

"'She' won't fit, 'she' is too big," Elynor tried to make the elf see reason.

"She will fit if you move your desk," countered Fénya.

"I am not going to move my desk!" stated Elynor a bit too loudly, causing several customers to look at her strangely. Blushing, Elynor muttered, "I'm just trying to convince myself that I shouldn't buy this plant." And without another word to Fénya, she strode to the end of the aisle and turned to the left where there were no other customers to be seen, and exhausted, she sat down on a bench in the garden furniture section.

As Fénya fluttered onto the backrest, Elynor said quietly, "Going shopping with you is a real pain in the butt!"

After some further minor struggles, Elynor and Fénya finally left the garden centre with two new plants of a reasonable size for the store, and three small ones for the house. And while Fénya was humming contentedly, Elynor was looking forward to taking a nap.

***

The summer passed by without any major incidents. Fénya had successfully convinced Elynor to buy a few more plants for the store as well as for the house, she had even managed to get Elynor to rearrange the children's corner in the store to make room for the additional plants.

However, while Fénya was happily caring for the plants, Elynor was getting increasingly worried, as the book store was still not doing well. The sales were just enough to keep the store going, however, to support herself and buy extravagances like the plants, Elynor had to delve into her savings. Taking into account that she wanted to keep the little fortune she had inherited from Mayah for her retirement, Elynor calculated that if sales didn't improve before next spring, she would have to sell the store and find herself job.

Fénya, who had no clue about finances, noticed with concern that Elynor's sadness did not cease with time, but instead seemed to get worse. And since Elynor was still living a very solitary life, Fénya once again decided it was high time for Elynor to find a partner. Thus, when a kind looking old lady entered the store and walked over to Elynor's favourite section, Fénya followed her, thinking about what she could do to help Elynor that would neither involve pulling off books, nor scaring away the lady.

As the lady left the store, Fénya fluttered onto the desk, and placed a bunch of keys in front of Elynor.

Surprised, Elynor asked, "Oh, where did you find these?"

"In the basket of the nice old lady who just left," said Fénya proudly.

"You stole them?" asked Elynor in disbelief.

"No. I borrowed them," explained Fénya. "Now, you can take them back to her. She will be so grateful that she will offer you a cup of tea." And she added with emphasis, "She likes the same books as you do."

Elynor growled angrily and said, "Fénya, I don't even know her name, I can't take them back to her. And how is she supposed to get into her home if she doesn't have her keys?"

"Oh," said Fénya, "I had not thought of that."

Heaving a frustrated sigh, Elynor said, "Well, hopefully she will return to ask if she lost them here. And as for you, mind your own business, and stop harassing my customers!"

Pouting, Fénya fluttered into the children's corner, and seated herself on a dangling tendril of the lately acquired Devil's Ivy.

The lady returned shortly after, and when Elynor handed her the key, the lady thanked her politely and left, causing Fénya to wonder, why Elynor was so stubbornly refusing to socialise. It could not be healthy. Fénya herself was missing her elfin friends a lot, but at least she had her floral friends to communicate, whereas, Elynor hardly ever talked with anyone. And Fénya could see that Elynor was getting increasingly sad. She often used to look at pictures of Mayah, especially after a quiet day at the store. She must have loved Mayah very much, thought Fénya, and suddenly she had an idea. Perhaps, she should help her find her a partner who was more different from Mayah, a female who wouldn't remind Elynor of Mayah at all, but who still shared something in common with Elynor.

***

However, Fénya realised that this was easier thought than accomplished, and thus autumn went by and winter came and Elynor was still alone. The store had been closed for a week's vacation, and for the first five days Elynor had not left the house, and she barely did anything other than reading this one book. She hadn't even wanted to welcome the new neighbour, who had moved in three days ago. And why didn't she want to go out on this beautiful day? Fénya just couldn't understand this human. And she spent the rest of the day watching Elynor from her favourite branch of the Ficus. And as Elynor went to bed, this time leaving the book on the table, Fénya waited till she was sure that Elynor was sleeping, then she switched the light back on and fluttered onto the table, determined to find out what the book was about.

Surprised, Fénya learned that the story was about the life of a young elf. And she was even more surprised when this elf was outcast. It filled her with sadness when she read how much the elf was suffering because she was missing her elfin friends and family. She was a very young elf who had not yet been away from her clan at all. And she had not taken a conscious risk, either, as she had been sleeping in a flower when the human gently brushed the petals, and by that, caught sight of the elf. The human had lost her partner a short time ago. However, the focus of this book was on the suffering of the elf and on the grief that her capture was causing her family.

At the first light of dawn, Fénya gasped in alarm, and she read on as fast as she could to find out if the human would actually do what she had just written in a farewell note, and to Fénya's horror, she did. She killed herself to set the elf free, since she didn't want to live without her partner. Fénya didn't bother finishing the story. Instead she quickly fluttered into the storage room, as the window there was the only one Fénya could open on her own. Elynor always left the door to the storage room ajar, and she had removed the fly screen on this window, so that Fénya could leave the house if she wished, and Fénya had frequently used this way out in summer. Elynor had asked Fénya not to do it in winter, as it would cool the house down too much. But this was an emergency after all. So Fénya rushed around the house to spy through Elynor's bedroom window. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that Elynor was still moving. But there was an empty glass on the bedside table. Fénya needed to get help and quickly. Frantically, she thought how she could accomplish this, until she heard noises in the neighbour's garden.

Fénya flew as fast as her wings could manage, and when she reached the hedge between the two gardens, she saw a woman in pyjamas and bathrobe on the terrace, and a huge dog frolicking in the snow. Fénya's jaw dropped when she saw a female elf playing with the dog. Quickly, she pulled herself together, and yelling for help in elfin language, she fluttered toward the elf.

The elf, Zefíra, was just as surprised as Fénya, but Fénya swiftly explained the urgency, and Zefíra rushed to her human friend, Felicitás.

Fénya followed them into their house, where Felicitás quickly slipped into her winter boots and told Lady, the dog, to wait, before leaving through the front door and stomping through the snow to Elynor's house.

As Felicitás energetically rang the doorbell, Fénya whined, "She won't be able to answer. She won't ..." Fénya stopped as the door was opened, and a tousled looking Elynor squinted confused at Felicitás and croaked, "What's wrong?"

And while Fénya threw herself at Elynor, clinging to her robe, and cried, "You are alive! You are alive!" Felicitás cast a side-glance at Zefíra and said, "My apologies! _Someone_ thought you needed help. Well, I'm glad you are all right. I am your new neighbour. My name is Felicitás."

"Uh...," uttered Elynor, still confused, "I am Elynor. Does this mean you can see her?"

As Fénya and Felicitás started to explain at once, Elynor raised her hands and exclaimed, "Stop! I can only listen to one at a time. And it is freezing cold. Come in!" and she stepped aside.

"Uh, thank you," said Felicitás and entered.

And while Elynor got the stove running and prepared the tea, Felicitás explained what Zefíra had told her, and Fénya filled in the rest. Both humans now being aware of the respective other elf present, both elves became visible to them.

Sighing, Elynor shook her head, and brought the tea, including two of Fénya's doll's china cups to the table, and seating herself she said, "Fénya, you should have finished the book," and Elynor explained briefly that the elf in the book was shocked when she found the farewell note, and she consciously showed herself to the woman's mother. The woman was brought into the hospital. And while the doctors fought to rescue her, the partner of the woman appeared to her and told her that she wanted her to live and find herself another partner, with whom she could be happy.

"The woman was rescued, Fénya. She did not die. And at the very end she finds a new partner, and the elf stays with them, voluntarily." And gently she added, "It is very sweet of you, Fénya, that you were so worried about me. But I never intended to kill myself. I was and still am sad, yes. But that's because the store isn't going well, and I will have to sell it in spring. However, I am sure that Mayah would want me to move on. And she was never my partner, Fénya. I don't know where you got this idea. She was almost 40 years older than I. She was my employer, my mentor and my best friend." And turning to Felicitás, who had been oddly silent for a while, Elynor said, "I am sorry if this misunderstanding has caused you inconvenience, Felicitás."

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Felicitás said, "I don't quite know what to say. You know, my pseudonym is Zita Zephyr."

Elynor asked in disbelief, "You wrote the book?"

Felicitás nodded.

"Is it...," Elynor hesitated.

"Yes, most of it is true, at least in a way. Though the very end has not happened, yet."

"So, you are the elf from the story?" asked Fénya, amazed.

"Yes," said Zefíra, "However, I never suffered. That is just what she thought."

Felicitás nodded again, and she explained, "Yes. I had just lost my love in an accident. And I was certain that Zefíra and her family must be suffering terribly. And since I didn't see much sense in living anymore anyway, and I knew my death would set her free, I decided to put an end to both our anguish. That has been ten years ago, though. We are both fine now. And so is Lady, our dog, who is waiting for her breakfast," explained Felicitás, and getting up she said, "I need to feed her. Would you like to come over in... let's say an hour?"

Accompanying Felicitás to the door, Elynor said, "Sure, why not," causing Fénya to utter a whoop of happy surprise.

Chuckling, Felicitás said, "Great! See you later then," and she stepped out into the cold, and Fénya and Elynor watched the neighbour and the elf hurry home.

***

Fénya and Elynor learned that Felicitás liked the same books as Elynor, and Elynor was amazed to be able to talk with one of her favourite authors.

They also learned that Felicitás baked delicious cookies. And Zefíra told them that those cookies had been the reason for her discovery, as she had slipped off the rim of the bowl and fell into the cookie dough just as Felicitás had wanted to scoop the dough on the baking plate. At the time when Felicitás had written the book, Zefíra asked her to invent a different story, as she was too embarrassed to have her actual accident portrayed in a book for all to read.

They were having a lot of fun, telling each other of their struggles and misunderstandings, however, as they went for a walk and the elves were playing with Lady, the two humans started to talk about the more serious issues in their lives.

They all spent the day together, and as it was getting late, and the elves had fallen asleep cuddled together in Zefíra's hammock, Elynor excused herself that she was tired, and asked if Fénya may stay.

"Of course she may stay," said Felicitás as she led Elynor to the door.

When Elynor was ready to leave, she turned to Felicitás to say goodbye, however as their eyes met, both stood there in silence for a while until Felicitás dared to close the distance between them, and kissed Elynor very gently on the lips.

And silently two elves were happily watching their humans taking the first step into a new life.

###

### A Christmas to Remember

Jana was sitting on a bench at a small children's playground waiting for a friend, or rather an acquaintance of hers. Being Christmas Eve, it was already dark although it was only five in the afternoon; only a few lamps were illuminating the pathways with their orange light, and many of the windows were decorated with Christmas lights. Normally they wouldn't meet before nine or ten when there was less risk of being seen by any of the inhabitants of the multistorey buildings to which the playground belonged. But today they could be fairly save that everyone would be at home with their families by this time to celebrate Christmas. Christmas, feast of love and joy – Jana snorted, causing a cloud of mist in the cold air. She was feeling rather like baby Jesus in the freaking manger, freezing her butt off in the cold because she had no place to stay. But as soon as the thought had formed in her head, she realised the comparison was flawed – to her no magi would come and bring gifts and it had probably not been as cold in Bethlehem either. Damn it was cold. And to make things worse it was beginning to snow. A white Christmas was probably every German's dream; and until about two months ago she would have rejoiced as well. As circumstances were, however, she wished, for the first time in her life, she were somewhere in the southern hemisphere with Palms as Christmas trees, warm sand under her feet and the Southern Cross as the Christmas light. Where the hell was Alex? She was just looking up to scan the area in search of him when she noticed a little girl with a doll in her arms a few metres in front of her.

" _Fröhliche Weihnachten!_ " said the girl cheerfully.

"Get lost!" replied Jana rudely. Alex could be here any minute, and she certainly didn't want to risk the girl's parents overlooking their transaction, even though they weren't in sight.

Moving closer to Jana, the girl asked, "Why are you mad?"

"None of your business," replied Jana, "Go home to your parents."

But the girl did not leave. Instead she said, "Your friend won't come."

Despite beginning to doubt Alex's coming herself, Jana snorted annoyed, "How would you know anything about my friend?"

Shrugging her shoulders, the girl said, "I just do."

"Look, I'm just sitting here minding my own business. Why don't you do the same and leave me alone?"

Instead, the girl stepped directly in front of Jana, and holding her doll out for Jana to take, she said, "Here. She will help you."

Jana couldn't help being impressed by the audacity of the little girl, and waving her hand in a dismissive gesture she said forcefully, "I don't want your doll. Go home."

The snow was falling in earnest now, and as the girl stood there looking at Jana with her big brown eyes that sparkled in the lamp-light, Jana had to fight the urge to brush the thick flakes off the girl's blond locks and draw her close to protect her. Where the hell were her parents? The girl was quite expensively dressed for Christmas; certainly she would be missed at the party. And where the hell was Alex? He had promised her that he'd organise a place for her to stay the night, and, almost more importantly, he was going to bring a carton of cheap cigarettes that had 'fallen off a truck'.

"I must go," said the girl. And pressing the doll in Jana's lap she said, "Keep her, she will help you." Jana grabbed the doll in order to return it to the girl, but when she looked up the girl seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Not even the fresh snow bore any indication as to where the girl had gone.

Bemused Jana stared at the doll she now held in her hand. It wasn't a particularly pretty doll, thought Jana. It appeared as if it was hand-made, and judging by the orange red hair braided into two tresses and the freckles painted on the face, it looked like it was meant to be an imitation of Pippi Longstocking. That was however where the similarity ended. The white shirt in which the doll was clad looked rather as if it had once belonged to the girl. Whether the embroidered name 'Lena' was the doll's or the girl's name, Jana didn't know. The sound of a car turning into the car park brought Jana out of her reverie. Shaking her head, she thought she'd better put the doll in her backpack... it would be too awkward if anyone saw her with a doll.

However, just as she was reaching for the backpack at her feet, a longhaired dachshund came running towards her, barking, but when it came closer, the barking suddenly changed into yelping. Jana had frozen her motions as not to aggravate the dog, but as it tail-wagging and yelping headed for the doll, Jana sat up straight, bringing the doll out of the dog's reach. She may not have wanted the doll, but now that the girl had forced it upon her she didn't want it to end up as a dog's toy either. The dog however was not to be deterred that easily, and neither was it listening to the calls of the woman who was moving as quickly as possible on the freshly fallen snow to catch up with it. Thus, still yelping and tail-wagging, the dog, obviously called Lotti, jumped up at Jana's leg, reaching for the doll.

"Ouch! Stop it!" cried Jana, as the dog's hard claws scratched over her jeans. And while holding the doll out of reach, she tried to get the dog off by moving her leg out of the way.

"Lotti! Lotti, come here!" cried the woman, who had almost reached them now, while a man, probably her husband, was only just starting to move away from the car.

As Lotti stubbornly refused to listen, the woman finally grasped her collar and dragged her off Jana's leg. "I'm so sorry. She has never done that before. I hope she didn't..." the woman suddenly froze as her gaze fell on the doll. Her voice almost a whisper, she asked, "Where did you get that?" As Jana didn't reply immediately, the woman suddenly screamed, "Where did you get it?! Give it back!"

Lotti started barking again and tried to escape the woman's hold.

Taken aback, Jana pressed the doll close to her in an instinctive reaction, and as the woman let go of the dog and grasped Jana's jacket, screaming, "Give it back, give it back!" Jana snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you? I didn't steal it or anything. A little girl gave it to me. Here, you can have it. It's not worth fighting over," and she held the doll out for the woman to take.

But instead of taking the doll, the woman completely lost it, and not even noticing the doll, she started to lash out at Jana, who, although somewhat protected by her thick winter jacket still felt the attack quite unpleasantly, and even more so the claws of the dog who was again jumping at her leg.

Jana just raised her arm to protect her face from the onslaught when the man finally caught up and dragged his wife away from Jana. After a bit of a struggle, the woman finally turned and slumped into the man's arms, crying. "Give Lotti the doll," said the man firmly.

Jana obeyed, wondering why the hell she had even bothered trying to protect a doll that she hadn't even wanted in the first place. Now her leg burned from the scratches and she'd probably spot a black eye tomorrow. With her free hand she touched the side of her face. As she pulled back and looked at her hand, she saw that it wasn't wet from the snow but from blood. Fuck. All for a freaking doll, she thought as she pulled a tissue from her pocket. A doll that had been supposed to help her. Damn, it would be funny if it weren't so painful.

Strangely enough, the dog had not grasped the doll as Jana would have imagined; instead it sniffed at the doll and then carefully took the shirt between its front teeth and jumping down, it trotted over to the couple and laid the doll at their feet.

Letting go of the woman, the man kneeled down and picked up the doll. Gently petting the dog, he praised it, " _Brave Lotti. Fein gemacht._ "

Jana coughed. Somehow her impression of 'well done' did look somewhat different.

Getting up, the man addressed Jana, "I apologise. For the dog as well as for my wife. That should be treated," he pointed at Jana's face. "Do you have anywhere to go? Shall I drive you to the hospital or would you rather like to come with us?"

"I," Jana hesitated. She was a tad doubtful if it was a good idea to go with a couple of whom the woman as well their dog had just attacked her. But Alex had not turned up and now that the adrenaline was wearing off she was starting to feel the biting cold again. And she still had no place to stay the night. Finally taking a deep breath, she said, "I was waiting for someone, but he didn't come. Hospital won't be necessary, but I wouldn't mind a warm place at least for a bit, if your wife doesn't mind."

The woman, who was still standing with her back to Jana, shook her head to indicate that she did not mind.

In the lift, the woman avoided looking at Jana the whole ride up to the 14th floor, while Jana pressed the tissue onto her eyebrow and the man introduced himself and his wife and explained that Lotti had only done her job, namely watching their daughter Lena's beloved doll and bringing it back to her when she had displaced it. Frau Peters started to cry again, and as soon as they entered the flat she disappeared into one of the rooms and closed the door behind her.

Herr Peters apologised again and promised to explain, but they should treat the wound first.

Jana agreed, and after taking off her shoes and jacket, she followed Herrn Peters into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet seat as she was told, while Herr Peters excused himself and shortly after returned with a doctor's case, which looked rather odd as he was wearing trousers of a fine suit with an elegant white shirt and a tie with a snowflake design.

"I'm a doctor," he explained smiling, as Jana looked curiously at his bag.

"Uh... I'm not insured and I can't pay you," said Jana and was about to get up; but Herr Peters gently pressed her back and sat down on the rim of the bath tub. "Don't be silly. You think I'd take money from you to repair the damage my wife caused?"

"Well, let's say it wouldn't surprise me.... Ouch!"

"Sorry," apologised Herr Peters, "But I have to clean and sterilise the wound before I can treat it."

"I know," said Jana annoyed, "I'm not stupid. I've just not been particularly lucky lately."

"Neither have I," said Herr Peters while he prepared needle and thread.

"Well, at least you've still got a job and a roof over your head," countered Jana, still irritated, as the wound did burn like hell and her fingers as well as her face were tingling now that they were warming up.

"Yes," said Herr Peters, and while he stitched the wound as gently as possible he continued, "But my daughter is lying in intensive care and we don't know yet if she'll make it."

Jana blanched and then blushed profusely. "Shit. I'm sorry."

"So am I," said Herr Peters and leaned back. "We're done here. Want to go ahead into the living room while I clean up? I'll join you in a minute."

Jana nodded and got up. "Okay."

"The door to the right," said Herr Peters as Jana passed him.

"Thanks," said Jana and left the bathroom, stepping around Lotti, who just entered.

Switching the lights on in the living room, Jana was greeted by a rather large photographic print above the sofa that showed a girl hugging a dachshund. Jana immediately identified them as Lena and Lotti. It was rather spooky, thought Jana, to see that the girl who gave her the doll was indeed the same child which she had just learned was in hospital. Shuddering, Jana tore her eyes away from the photograph and looked around. The Christmas tree in the corner next to the window front was fully decorated but not lighted. Ripped wrapping paper and an opened box were still lying under and next to the tree, as well as the things they had contained: a pair of ice skates and a sleigh. Obviously the _Christkind_ had already been here to bring the big gifts, while it would bring the smaller gifts to the grandparents' or another family member's place, surmised Jana, and she wondered if Lena had been able to see her second round of gifts before she had to be taken to hospital. How tragic to land in hospital on Christmas Eve, especially for a child, thought Jana. Again, she shuddered as her gaze fell on the photographic print, and she rubbed her arms as she sat down on the sofa beneath it. To distract herself from the eerie feeling, Jana continued looking around.

On the coffee table stood a plate with nuts and a nutcracker and next to it a beautiful Christmas pyramid with carved roe deer and fir trees, of which the candles had burned down almost to the bottom, while on the dining table at the other end of the room the bigger candles of the Advent wreath were burned down in the typical irregular way – the fourth candle having been lit only the day before.

As Herr Peters entered the living room he headed for the wall unit and stated, "I could use a schnapps now," and opening the inbuilt bar he asked, "Would you like one too?"

"No thanks," said Jana. "I never found that drowning your sorrows in alcohol helps."

"It doesn't," agreed Herr Peters while he poured himself a shot of schnapps. "However, a bit of alcohol can help to soothe the nerves."

"So does a cigarette," countered Jana. "Would you mind if I have one?"

Gulping down his schnapps, Herr Peters shrugged, "Each to their own, I suppose. No, I don't mind. My father and my brother smoke. There's an ashtray on the side table," he pointed at the little mahogany table next to the sofa on which Jana was sitting. "Would you like something else to drink - a glass of orange juice or mineral water perhaps?"

"Yes, orange juice would be nice," said Jana and got up. "I'll just get my backpack."

"All right," said Herr Peters, and taking a glass and a bottle of orange juice from the bar, he placed both on the table. Then he poured himself a glass of mineral water and sat down on the armchair.

As Jana returned to her seat on the sofa, she noticed that Herrn Peters' face looked haggard, now that he started to relax and his gaze was fixed on his daughter's gifts under the tree. Not knowing what to say, Jana dived into her backpack in search of her last pack of cigarettes.

Herr Peters watched the young woman rummaging. Except for the fact that her clothes and her hair could use a wash, she didn't really look like a homeless person. In fact, she looked rather healthy and intelligent; and he wondered how long she had been living on the streets and what had caused her to slip through the meshes of the social safety net. And as Lotti came in and curled up at his feet, he remembered that there was something else he was wondering about, thus as Jana lit her cigarette and reached for the ashtray to place it on the coffee table in front of her, he asked, "Now tell me, please - where did you find Lena's doll?"

"I didn't find it," said Jana with a quick look at Herrn Peters. Then she shook her head and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. And staring at the smoke rising from the cigarette in her hand, she said, "I'm not sure if I should tell you."

"Why?" asked Herr Peters.

"You won't believe me," said Jana, and looking straight at Herrn Peters she continued, "You'll think I'm making things up. But I swear it's true and I'm not on drugs or anything, so I haven't been hallucinating."

"What are you talking about?"

Jana sighed frustrated. "All right, look, I've just been sitting there waiting for an acquaintance of mine..." and she related how she had come into the possession of his daughter's doll, pointing out that the girl had looked like the girl in the photographic print above her.

As she finished, Herr Peters took a deep breath and said, "I think I need another schnapps now."

But as he got up and climbed over Lotti, he turned back to Jana and said, "I should eat first. I haven't eaten since lunch. How about you?"

"Uh, you aren't throwing me out?"

"Why would I?"

"You actually believe me? I mean, I can hardly believe it myself," admitted Jana.

"There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy," quoted Herr Peters.

"I don't know," said Jana sceptically, "We aren't characters in a Shakespeare play."

Despite his sorrow and the shock of Jana's revelation, Herr Peters was quite impressed that the young woman knew the source of the quote, and he responded, "No, we aren't. But a doll that was destroyed in the accident in which my daughter was injured and later reappears in another place intact can't be scientifically explained either. Now, would you like to eat something?"

"Uh, I really don't want to be a bother. I have kind of eaten a few hours ago," said Jana, blushing.

"Kind of?" asked Herr Peters.

Lowering her head, Jana mumbled still blushing, "I found some stuff in a rubbish container."

Inwardly shaking his head, Herr Peters said, "Ah, that sort of 'kind of'. Well, let's see if we can get you something proper to eat – and don't worry, it is okay. I just have to check on my wife first, and then I'll see what I can come up with in the kitchen." And looking at the dining table, he added, "You can light the candles on the wreath if you like. It might at least give us a bit of a Christmas feeling despite the circumstances."

Sometime later, as Herr Peters and Jana were sitting at the dining table on which Herr Peters had placed a variety of breads, cold cuts, cheeses, caviar and other bread toppings, Jana asked, "How is your wife doing?"

"She is sleeping," said Herr Peters. "She took the tranquiliser they gave her at the hospital. We had to leave because she was driving the staff – and me – crazy." Taking a sip of water, he admitted, "I'm worried too. But there's nothing we can do now but wait; and for me talking about other things helps distracting me from my worries. So, I'm glad you are here." The smile he gave Jana was weak, but genuine.

"I'm glad I'm not just a bother," said Jana, returning the smile.

"You aren't a bother at all," assured Herr Peters. "Now, tell me... if you like... how come that an intelligent woman like you is living on the streets?"

Hesitating, Jana wondered how much she should tell him; he was a stranger, after all. But then again, if it helped to distract him from his worries... sighing, she finally started, "I had a fall out with my parents several years ago."

As Jana paused, Herr Peters asked, "What was the reason?"

"There were several, really," said Jana. "They already didn't like me studying photographic design instead of something 'proper'."

"What would they consider 'proper'?" asked Herr Peters.

Jana shrugged, "My father is a professor of English studies and my mother was a high school teacher for English, French and German till she married my father. They would have preferred me studying something similar or at least something like law or medicine."

"I see," said Herr Peters. "But they did let you study?"

"Yes," said Jana while she spread some caviar on her slice of white bread. Looking at Herrn Peters to see his reaction, ready to leave if it was negative, she continued, "But when they learned that my girlfriend was more than 'just' a girlfriend, they made me choose between 'good' and 'evil'. I chose my girlfriend."

"Gosh," exclaimed Herr Peters, "It's 2012 – you'd think people would finally arrive in the 21st century. I'm sorry that you had to make this choice."

Shrugging again, Jana said, "I'm not. In a way it made it easier for me. Things had been going from bad to worse for years. This was just the final straw."

"That doesn't make it any better," said Herr Peters, "I think it is very sad when parents can't accept their children as they are."

"I suppose it is," said Jana and took a bite from her caviar sandwich.

"What happened then?"

Jana swallowed and took a sip of water before she continued. "Girlfriend finished her degree in photographic design and was offered to take over her great aunt's business here in Nuremberg, so I moved with her. Couldn't continue studying as the university here doesn't offer photographic design and I didn't want to travel to Munich every day. Girlfriend employed me at her studio. Two years bliss. This summer girlfriend found new girlfriend and moved into her house shortly after. She said I could continue working for her, but I didn't want to. Unemployment office refused to pay because I quit. I lost the flat because the girlfriend had signed the contract and they didn't let me take over because I neither had a job nor unemployment benefits; and I couldn't have afforded it anyway. I asked the social welfare office, but they won't pay because my parents have money. But my parents refuse to pay. My ID card expired in October, but I can't get a new one without an address, and I can neither get a flat nor a job without a valid ID card. I tried to sell my photos on the internet, but so far I haven't had any success."

"Wow," breathed Herr Peters. "And you didn't have any friends who could have helped you?"

Jana shrugged, "The few friends we had made here are all her friends and they sided with her. People don't like siding with losers."

"You aren't a loser," said Herr Peters firmly. "And people who leave you when times get tough aren't worth of your friendship anyway." He took a sip of water and looked at Jana ponderingly. At last he asked, "Have you ever thought about doing photography as a training occupation rather than studying?"

"No one would take me on," said Jana resigned, "And even if someone would, with the money one gets as a trainee I couldn't afford a flat – and so it's back to square one again."

"Don't give up so quickly," admonished Herr Peters, "I may have a solution. And if that doesn't work out, I'll figure out another." And getting up, he patted Jana's shoulder and said, "You just continue eating, I'll make a quick call," and he disappeared into the hall.

Jana's gaze fell on Lotti, who had wanted to follow Herrn Peters, but he hadn't noticed and had closed the door behind him, so now the dog plodded over to the table and sitting down she looked up at Jana, her head tilted.

Raising her eyebrows, Jana shrugged and said, "I don't know what he's up to."

As the dog continued to stare with a heart-melting expression, it suddenly dawned on Jana what she wanted and grinning, she took a slice of ham from the plate, rolled it up and after a quick look at the still closed door, she held it down for Lotti to take.

She was prepared to draw her fingers back quickly and was quite surprised when the dog gently took the ham at the farthest end, not even getting close to her fingers. "Wow, you can behave, after all," said Jana impressed. However, as soon as she had spoken, Lotti was finished with the ham and was again looking at Jana with her trademark heart-melting dachshund look.

"Um... I don't think there's any necessity for you to beg," said Jana. "You probably get the best food available."

The dog obviously was of a different opinion as it continued its silent emotional assault undeterred.

"I will get into trouble if I give you more," Jana tried to reason with Lotti.

Suddenly, Lotti got up, trotted over to the sofa, jumped up and curled up into a ball.

Jana was just wondering if the dog had really understood her when the door opened. " _Ah,_ " thought Jana, " _So she wasn't giving up because of my words, but because she heard her master ending the phone call._ "

Herr Peters entered with a smile on his face, and he declared solemnly, "Merry Christmas, I got a flat and perhaps even the chance of a job!"

"No way!" said Jana, "Where? What? How?" She stopped as she saw him looking from her to Lotti and back.

Sitting down, he asked, "Did you give her something?"

"Um," Jana looked at Lotti who looked at her pleadingly. "Sorry, but I have to tell him." And turning to Herrn Peters she admitted, "Yes, I gave her one slice of ham."

Sighing, he said, "Thank you for being honest."

"Well," said Jana, "If she gets sick, you should at least know why. I'm sorry I couldn't resist her look."

"Few people can," said Herr Peters. "I'm surprised she only managed to panhandle one from you."

"Well, she was working on convincing me to give her more, but then she heard you coming."

Herr Peters laughed, "And here I thought she might actually have had enough at my parents' place. Well, Lotti, it's been a delicious Christmas for you, hasn't it?" And to Jana he continued, "And don't worry, she won't get sick. She never does. But now about you: If you like, you can move into the granny flat at my parents' until you can afford a flat of your own. Instead of paying rent you could help them a bit around the house and garden or at the moment with the snow shovelling... and you could move in tomorrow. And my father has a friend whose son has a photographic studio. If you like, he will ask him if he takes on trainees. What do you think?"

"You are kidding," said Jana. "Where's the catch?"

"Well," said Herr Peters, "We don't know yet if Marcel takes on trainees. But even if he doesn't, he might know someone who does."

"It still sounds a bit too good to be true," said Jana sceptically.

"Eh, you can see for yourself tomorrow. You can stay the night here on the sofa, and tomorrow I'll introduce you to my family. Okay?"

"Okay!" said Jana smiling, though she still couldn't quite believe her luck. " _What a magical Christmas,_ " she thought.

Epilogue

Jana had just finished wrapping her Christmas presents, and as she was leaning back, looking at the pile of packages, a huge smile appeared on her face and her thoughts wandered back to the last Christmas and the turn her life had taken since then.

The Peterses had almost immediately 'adopted' her into their family after their son Bernd had introduced her to them; and Jana had not only been grateful for their help, but she also found that she liked the couple very much.

She also got on quite well with Marcel for whom she now worked as a trainee. He hadn't been able to take her on before September, but during the nine months till then she hadn't been idle. She had lent the Peterses a hand wherever they needed it, and she had helped Frau Peters and some of her friends to get a better understanding of computers in general and of the internet in particular.

Jana had been especially delighted when Frau Peters, encouraged by Jana, took up photography as a hobby and was now proudly displaying photos of her magnificent garden on her own website.

Jana had also practiced her photography for which Lotti had been her main study object during the winter. The dog had spent a lot of time with them the first weeks while Lena was in hospital, and she was glad to act as a star model since she quickly figured out that she would be royally rewarded with treats afterwards.

Lena was by now completely healed, and she also loved posing for Jana whenever she stayed at her grandparents'.

Jana remembered how shocked she had been when she had seen Lena in hospital for the first time. As soon as she learnt that Lena had pulled through, Jana had asked Herrn Peters if she could visit her. It wasn't only that the girl had changed her life, for which Jana would be forever grateful; it was also because Jana had learnt just shortly after Christmas that her acquaintance Alex had died in the car accident in which Lena had been injured. At first she had been afraid that Alex may have caused the accident having been high or drunk, but Herr Peters had told her that it hadn't been his fault at all. It had been a freak accident caused by the treacherous icy conditions. When she learnt this, Jana wondered how Lena could have known that Alex was her friend, and she had wanted to ask her if she could remember anything of their conversation at the playground.

When she tentatively questioned Lena about it, Lena just looked into space with an angelic smile on her face. And instead of answering Jana's question, she told Jana that the doll was magic and had nothing to do with Pippi Longstocking. She was called Piroska and her great grandmother Aniko had made her. Lena was convinced that Grandma Aniko had been a sorceress and now that she was in heaven she was an angel and was watching over Lena.

Bernd told Jana that his daughter had a lively imagination, but he admitted that Lena and her maternal great grandmother had shared a special bond, and Grandma Aniko had been a wonderful storyteller.

Nonetheless, since Lena's revelation Jana got goose bumps each time she saw the doll, and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe there was more truth to Lena's fantasy than Bernd realised.

###

The Witch and the Fiddler

Once upon a time in a forest far, far away, lived a good witch in her little hut.

All creatures of the forest loved her. The deer came to play on the meadow in front of her house, the birds sang the most beautiful songs to wake her in the mornings and the squirrels helped her by throwing walnuts from the big tree in her garden for she couldn't reach them on her own. Flowers were growing wherever she touched the ground, and even the trees showed their appreciation by bowing their branches to form a protective baldachin over her when she walked in the rain.

The witch loved all the creatures of the forest. She loved the deer and the birds and the squirrels. And she loved all the flowers and the trees. But most of all she loved her dear friend Gyárfás.

Gyárfás was an old gnome who had his home in a nearby mountain. He played the fiddle so beautifully that everyone who heard it was enchanted by it. And there was not a day on which the witch didn't rejoice at the wonderful melodies of her beloved neighbour and friend. Every evening the gnome would come over to the witch's house, and he would play for her while she prepared a meal for the two of them. And once they had finished their meal, they would sit on the bench in front of the house and the gnome would play the fiddle until the nightingales began their nocturnal song.

Alas, one day after they had eaten, the gnome did not pick up his fiddle, instead he asked the witch to sit down with him on the bench as there was something important he needed to tell her.

The gnome looked very sombre, and the witch wondered what was troubling her friend. So she sat down beside him and asked him to proceed.

The gnome leaned over and took both of her hands in his. Then he looked up into her dark brown eyes and said, "My dear Zsálya. We have been friends for several decades now. I want to thank you for your friendship, and I want you to know how very much I appreciated your company and your meals."

The witch smiled and said, "You are my dearest friend, Gyárfás, and your fiddle playing always brightens my day." But when Gyárfás smiled at her sadly, she furrowed her brow and asked, "Why were you talking in past tense?"

The gnome sighed and stroking his big white moustache, he said, "I am old, Zsálya, and my time here with you has come to an end. Mother Earth is calling me, and I must say goodbye to you."

The witch was shocked. She never imagined his end could be so near. She wished he would have told her sooner. She might have been able to find a way to prolong his life.

Gyárfás shook his head. "That's why I waited so long before telling you. I knew you wouldn't want to let me go. But Zsálya, dear Zsálya," he squeezed her hands to emphasise the seriousness of his words, "You must not defy Mother Earth. She already let me stay longer than what is common for my folks, just to please you. Mother Earth loves you, Zsálya. But now it is time for me to join her."

But Zsálya was distraught. The anguish she felt at the prospect of losing her dear friend was too much for her to bear. She could not simply accept his fate. And in her desperate attempt to find a solution, she remembered a spell she had once read in an old book of her mentor's. The spell served to transfer the attributes of one person or thing to another. Could this spell be adapted for her purpose? She wasn't sure, but she was determined to try. However, she knew that her friend would not agree with her endeavour, thus, she asked Gyárfás to let her walk him home.

It was a night of a full moon and the beautiful song of the nightingales accompanied them on their walk. And as they reached his home, which was built into the mountain, Zsálya asked her friend to play for her one last time.

Glad that his friend had obviously accepted his fate, Gyárfás was happy to fulfil her last wish and began to play Zsálya's favourite song.

The witch, however, had no intention to accept his fate whatsoever. And while he played, standing in front of the rock with his eyes closed, Zsálya murmured the spell with the adaptation she had invented. Her intention was to transfer the longevity of the rock to Gyárfás. Alas, as soon as she had spoken the last word, her friend vanished in front of her eyes.

Shocked, Zsálya rushed to the place where he had stood. She could still hear him play, but he was no longer to be seen or felt. Dread filled her when she realised what must have happened. Instead of transferring the rock's longevity, the spell had caused her friend to be joined with the rock to achieve its longevity.

The witch sank down to her knees and sobbed, "What have I done? Oh my dear Gyárfás, what have I done to you?"

And while the witch cried until she had no more tears left, the gnome inside the rock continued playing his fiddle. Only as the day dawned and the full moon disappeared from view did the sound of his playing fade, and the witch was left shivering on the cold wet ground, with such an emptiness in her heart that it seemed to be too great to ever be healed.

And as she lay there unmoving, the animals of the forest gathered around her. The deer came forward and nudged her, the birds sang their most beautiful songs to cheer her up, and the squirrels brought walnuts and laid them in front of her face. But the witch only stared at the rock, not really noticing anything of her surroundings, not even noticing how cold she was.

Then a pack of wolves appeared, but none of the other animals fled. They knew that the wolves had not come to hunt. They knew that the wolves worried about the witch just as much as they did. Thus, they all watched as the wolves neared the witch, some lying down beside her, some even covering her with their furry bodies to give her warmth.

At noon, as the sun was beating down, the witch finally stirred, and the wolves got up to give her room. Slowly, the witch sat up, and with a sad smile on her face she patted the wolf closest to her and said with a voice hoarse from crying, "Thank you, my friends." And as she got up, all the animals uttered their relief, each in its own voice.

Back at home, Zsálya consulted every book on magic she owned to find a way to reverse the spell, but to no avail. As a last option she travelled to her old mentor who lived far away on the other side of the mountain. But as she arrived at the place she learned that her mentor had died a few moons ago.

Broken-hearted, the witch returned home.

She continued her life, surrounded by her friends of the forest, and every full moon she went to Gyárfás' place and listened to his playing until it faded at dawn; but she never managed to reverse the spell.

Hundreds of years went by, maybe even a thousand, who knows? But I think we can agree that it was a long, long time after, the mountain that was once the gnome's home became a quarry, and the piece of rock with which Gyárfás had been joined came into the possession of a very talented sculptor. And the sculptor started to chip at the rock, intending to sculpt a bird bath for a customer. However, his hands wouldn't work in the way he wanted, and instead of the form of the bird bath which he tried to envision, he kept seeing the image of a gnome playing a fiddle. At first he refused to change his intention, thinking of his customer and the money it would earn him. But as his hands continued to work on their own volition and the image of the gnome persisted in front of his inner eye, he finally accepted his inspiration. And with his imagination and his skill, - and a little help from Mother Earth - he freed the gnome from the rock.

Now he is living at the bottom of my friend's garden. And on nights of a full moon, if you listen very carefully, you can hear him playing his magical tunes on his fiddle.

### The Fool

With a brooding expression Rebecca watched her friend Bärbel adjusting her summer dress as she was getting on a seat of the antiquated looking Chair-O-Planes.

Why had she let Bärbel drag her to this fair? Admittedly, she hadn't been in a socialising mood ever since she lost her partner a year ago, and her friend had been increasingly worried about her because of it.

"You've got to stop living like a hermit!" Bärbel had scolded her, "I know Sabrina's death has been hard on you, but I'm sure she would be just as worried as I am if she saw you like this. You've got to go out and live again, Rebecca!"

Rebecca thought that this was a moot point. If Sabrina were still alive there would be no need for her to worry as they would still be happily living together. Happier even than they used to be, Rebecca would make sure of that. Nevertheless, Rebecca felt obliged to humour her best friend, who had helped her through the worst of times. But couldn't they have gone to a nice little café instead? Why did it have to be a fair? She wasn't in the mood for it at all, it was loud and crowded and she couldn't go on any of the rides as ever since she was a child she got nauseated from just looking at them. And worst of all, the cheerful atmosphere painfully reminded her of Sabrina. Rebecca groaned unconsciously as past memories resurfaced unbidden.

Sabrina had loved fairs, and although Rebecca had never been fond of loud and crowded places, she had always enjoyed going to fairs with her partner. In the eight years they had been together, Rebecca had won countless of prizes for Sabrina at the shooting galleries, and her partner had kept them all. All the gingerbread hearts and plush animals and accumulated bouquets of plastic flowers, and of course her most precious prize, a big brown teddy bear she named Ben. It had been the first prize Rebecca had won for Sabrina.

The big old bear had consoled Sabrina many a night when Rebecca had pulled yet another all-nighter, working at her computer.

Back then, Rebecca had always found it endearing to find her partner cuddled up with the bear clutched to her bosom.

How could I be so bloody ignorant?! Why didn't I just work during the day while she was off to work? I could have spent more time with her, could have held her in my arms more often, but no, I had to insist that my muse could only work at night.

Rebecca swallowed a lump in her throat as grief and guilt started to overwhelm her, and bracing herself against the ticket booth, she shook her head in order to force herself back into the present.

Ironically, ever since she had started to work again, Rebecca had her most creative ideas in the early morning hours, while at night it was now she who clutched old Ben.

The Chair-O-Planes started, and Rebecca began to feel the familiar dizziness creeping up. She turned away from the spinning seats, but the flashing lights of the other rides in the vicinity gave her a headache, and the excruciating noise all around her didn't help either. The terrible beer tent music, the shrilling sounds of the rides, the shouting of the vendors and the yelling of kids all mixed with the overall murmur of the crowd and resounded in a blaring cacophony. She squinted and let her gaze wander over the candyfloss and roasted almonds booths, the sweet flavours wafting over to her and intermingling with those of bratwurst and beer. The concoction of scents, loved by so many people, and once loved by her as well, now only enhanced the queasy feeling in her stomach.

Disgruntled, she cursed herself yet again for agreeing to accompany her friend. Without Sabrina, there was really nothing here that even remotely interested her. Most of the carnival games around her were for children anyway. Not that that would have bothered her with Sabrina at her side, but she wasn't at her side; and her friend was having fun on the carousel. Rarely had Rebecca felt as alone in a crowd of people, and try as she might, she just couldn't get her mind into that happy playful mood she had enjoyed with Sabrina. Instead, she experienced an odd feeling of detachment, as she watched all the cheerful people mingling about, until her gaze fell upon a group of middle aged men having a blast at the balloon and dart booth. It was only Saturday afternoon, but going by their loud laughter and bawling, they were obviously already three sheets to the wind. Disgusted, Rebecca averted her eyes, only to witness another group of drunks staggering out of the beer tent. Shaking her head, she suddenly raised an eyebrow as her gaze fell upon a small, rather shabby looking tent with a sign that read: Tarot - 1€.

_Weird_ , thought Rebecca, _I never noticed this before_. _Perhaps I could give it a go? Not that I'm hugely interested in tarot, but at least it is something I have never done before and I would be able to escape this noisy, stinking torture for a while. One euro seems a fair price for a few minutes of peace in the middle of this blustering hell!_

Wondering how long a tarot reading might take, she cast a quick glance behind her and saw that the carousel was just beginning to spin at full speed. The tarot tent was right on the opposite side. She would probably be back before Bärbel got off that infernal thing.

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and stepped forward in order to fight her way to the other side through the crowd.

#

"Hello," said Rebecca as she entered the tent.

" _Jó napot_ , young lady."

Rebecca curiously looked around. The tent smelled much better than she had imagined. Frankincense, she noted. However, the shabby outside appearance of the tent was rather consistent with that of the inside.

The only light source was an old rusty camping lantern, which hung on a hook in the far corner. It provided a warm glow that softened the edges, and kept a lot of the details hidden in the shadows, which was probably better that way, thought Rebecca. However, despite of the poor illumination, it was easily noticeable that the muddy brown tent was patched in several places.

Surprised, Rebecca noticed with a sigh of relief that the shabby canvas seemed to be thicker than it looked. It almost completely drowned out the noise outside; and that although there was no floor, only the bare soil of the fairground and a moth-eaten rug beneath the furniture at the far end of the tent. Said furniture consisted of a small plastic table which supposedly had once been white if going by the matching two plastic chairs which still showed some of their original white colour. A third chair, this one behind the table, was occupied by a white-haired old woman whose wrinkled neck reminded Rebecca of a 100-year-old turtle. She guessed that the woman wasn't much younger, although her piercing blue eyes contradicted this impression. They sparkled in the light of the lantern and seemed to bore right through Rebecca, as if to search the bottom of her very soul.

Rebecca cringed at the scrutiny, and she was about to turn around and leave as the woman held out her bony hand and said in a low voice, "Come, come. No need to be afraid. I won't bite." She chuckled, the wrinkles on her dark-skinned face showing that she did so often, and she flashed Rebecca a smile that showed several gaps between her yellowed teeth.

Hesitantly, Rebecca stepped closer, and upon an encouraging gesture from the old woman she sat down on one of the dirty plastic chairs. _Good thing I put on the old pair of jeans_ , thought Rebecca.

"Your soul is troubled," stated the old woman softly, "You have tried to escape life for a long time, but now you come to seek answers."

"Well, actually I just came in here to 'escape' the hubbub out there," said Rebecca defiantly. The woman's words had hit a bit too close to home for her liking, and the gentle knowing look with which they were delivered unsettled her. _This is ridiculous_ , she thought, _this woman doesn't know anything about me; she is just doing her hocus-pocus job. She probably says that same hogwash to everyone_.

The old woman smiled and inclined her head, "As you wish. But since you are here," she picked up the deck of cards and asked, "Would you like to ask tarot anyway? It is only one euro."

Rebecca shrugged, "Yeah, why not."

The woman shot her a toothless grin and began to shuffle the cards. When she was satisfied, she fanned them out on the table and said, "Pick five cards and place them next to each other in a row. The first card will represent what lies in your past."

With mild curiosity Rebecca did as she was told. However, as she saw the picture on the first card, she frowned. Dark clouds hanging low in the sky gave the impression of doom, which fit with the depicted scene of a person lying on the ground, pierced by ten long swords.

It had taken the mugger only one stab with a knife to kill Sabrina. He had hit an artery. She bled to death before she was even discovered. Rebecca felt sick. _I should have accompanied her, but no, I had this 'great' idea that I wanted to work on_.

"Go on," said the old woman gently, "The next card will represent your potential."

Rebecca shook her head to bring herself back to the present. She looked up at the old woman, and when she nodded encouragingly, Rebecca hesitantly reached for the cards and pulled another one out of the fan. A fleeting smile flashed across her face as she looked at the picture of the card, called The Sun. _Now, this one looks a lot nicer_ , she thought, _though I doubt I would be as happy as that child if I were riding naked on a horse_.

"The next card will show how far you live up to your potential," explained the woman, and gestured Rebecca to pick the next card.

Not bothering to fumble another card out of the fan, Rebecca picked the uppermost card on the edge. She regretted her decision as soon as she looked at the card. The card depicted a church scene with a person lying in repose on what looked like a coffin. At first Rebecca felt disturbed by the image, but on second glance, she noticed that the 'person' was painted in the same colour as the coffin, so perhaps it wasn't a person after all, but just a statue. But what did the picture mean?

As if the old woman had read her thoughts, she explained, "We will talk about the meaning of the cards in the end. Now, pick the next card. It will advise you what to do next."

Rebecca was getting tired of this game, and she quickly pulled another card out of the fan, messing it up in the process. "Sorry," she apologised.

The old woman shook her head slightly, "It doesn't matter."

Rebecca refused to take a closer look at the card, which was called The Hanged Man, and she just stared at the messed up fan, waiting for the woman to tell her to pick the last card.

The woman regarded her for a moment with her piercing blue eyes before she went on, "The next card will show a glimpse into what your future may hold for you, if you listen to the advice."

To get this over and done with, Rebecca picked up a card that had been separated from the fan with her last move. Nothing of this mattered anyway; it was just hocus-pocus. And although she was glad that she had escaped the hubbub of the fair for a while, she was beginning to get antsy. Bärbel didn't know where she went, and she would surely worry about her if she couldn't find her.

She glimpsed at the last card, at least this one looked friendlier again. It was called The Fool, and as Rebecca took a closer look, she found herself smiling at the androgynous figure on the picture, which seemed to dance soft-footed and happy with a white rose in her hand and a little dog danced beside her. The figure reminded her of Sabrina. Not so much with regards to looks, but rather because of her carefree attitude. Why the card was called The Fool, Rebecca couldn't fathom. Perhaps, because it looked as though the figure was dancing right into the abyss. But you couldn't see if it really was an abyss, maybe it was just a small step?

When Rebecca looked up, her gaze was met by the woman's sparkling blue eyes.

"Are you ready to hear what the cards want to tell you?"

Rebecca nodded.

"The card of the past," the woman began and pointed at the Ten of Swords, "Shows that you have suffered a great loss."

Rebecca swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded again.

"The Sun as your potential shows vitality and confidence, and a joy of living. But you are stuck in the past. You have withdrawn from life," she pointed at the Four of Swords, "You keep yourself locked up instead of dealing with the pain and grief in your heart. But it is time to change your perspective or you will never reach your potential."

Rebecca reluctantly followed the woman's finger to the Hanged Man card. So it wasn't a bad card after all? No, now that she looked at the picture more carefully, she noticed the relaxed body language of the upside down hanging man. With his arms casually crossed behind his back, he didn't look terrified about hanging from the tree. In fact, he looked rather serene; his features showing no fear or pain.

"It is a card of acceptance and letting go of the past," the old woman explained, and went on, "He is hanging of his own free will from the world-tree, gaining new perspective on his whole self." Picking up the Fool and the Sun card, the tarot reader fixed her intense blue eyes on Rebecca and continued, "If you listen to the cards, you will be able to gather the pieces of your shattered soul and move on open minded into the beginning of a new future in which you will be able to live up to your potential."

Despite admitting that the cards were rather fitting, Rebecca felt disappointed. This was just the standard psychological hogwash as with the daily horoscope. It always fit - at least to a degree. She didn't know what she had expected... well, granted, she hadn't really expected anything initially... nonetheless, maybe because of the old woman's look and the appearance of her shabby tent, she had somehow imagined the interpretation to be a little more mysterious. "Well, thanks for the reading," she said and fished a euro coin out of her pocket.

A smirk played on the woman's lips. "You are disappointed. Have another look at the future card, and memorise it well."

"All right," said Rebecca, and looked at The Fool for a moment. Then she placed the coin on the table and got up, "I must go now. Good bye."

"Life is a journey, and guilt is not a good guide. Keep your eyes open, young lady. The cards may be more precise than you would imagine," said the woman and winked at Rebecca.

#

When Rebecca stepped out of the tent, the Chair-O-Planes was just coming to a halt and she spotted Bärbel with her untamed blonde locks and her baby blue summer dress. _Wow_ , thought Rebecca surprised, _just in time!_ And she quickly made her way through the crowd, back to the other side.

"Whew! That was fun!" exclaimed Bärbel as she joined Rebecca.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Can we go home now?"

"Are you crazy? We only just arrived," complained Bärbel, "I haven't even had candyfloss yet."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. Her friend was behaving like a child, and Rebecca really couldn't fathom why a 45-year-old would want to eat this disgustingly sticky sweet stuff. "It's right over there. You can get yourself one and eat it on the way."

"On the way to the ghost train, yep, that's what I'm intending to do," said Bärbel grinning and headed for the candyfloss booth.

Sighing, Rebecca followed her friend through the throng of people.

As she took her candyfloss from the vendor, Bärbel turned to Rebecca and asked, "Are you going to continue being mopey or are you going to join me on the ghost train?"

"I'm not 'mopey'," argued Rebecca as they made their way towards Bärbel's next destination.

"So, you are going to join me?"

"No."

"Oh, come on, you can hardly get nauseated on a ghost train."

"Maybe not, but I don't like scary stuff."

Bärbel sighed, "Had I known you were going to just stand around waiting for me, I wouldn't have dragged you here."

"I can't help it," said Rebecca, "I hate fairs!"

"Since when?"

"Since they remind me of Sabrina," said Rebecca defiantly, but truthfully.

"Everything reminds you of Sabrina," said Bärbel, "There is no place in this world that would not remind you of Sabrina. There will always be something that triggers your memory, even if it's just a painting on the wall or a certain flower on the table. You've got to start living in the present, Rebecca. Life is more than just a memory!"

Annoyed, Rebecca rolled her eyes, "You sound like the old fortune teller."

"What?" Bärbel looked at her as if she had lost her marbles.

Chuckling at her friend's expression, Rebecca nudged Bärbel's arm and explained, "I haven't just been standing around. I went to the tarot tent and got a reading while you were on the Chair-O-Planes."

Bärbel shot her a sceptical look. "You got a tarot reading in... what... five minutes maybe? - at the most."

Rebecca shrugged, "Yeah, well, it felt more like 15 minutes, but since I got back right when the carousel halted, I suppose it didn't take as long as it felt."

Bärbel still looked doubtful, but she asked, "Where is this tent? I didn't notice it. Maybe I will go there on the way back. Was it any good?"

Rebecca stopped and turned around. "Hm, I can't see it from here. It's behind the bratwurst booth, right opposite the Chair-O-Planes. The old woman was a bit weird, but it was only one euro, and for that I suppose it was okay."

"One euro? Well, it's certainly not a professional reading then. Probably just a load of rubbish. No wonder it only took five minutes," said Bärbel, and she nibbled the last bits of candyfloss off the stick and threw the empty stick into a rubbish bin.

"I don't know," said Rebecca, as they reached the queue in front of the ghost train's entrance, "I didn't think it was that bad, really; just not particularly spectacular."

"Hm okay, maybe I'll check it out after all. Spending a euro certainly won't break the bank," Bärbel grinned, and she pulled a wet wipe from her pocket to clean her face of the sticky remnants of the candyfloss.

Rebecca buried her hands in her pockets and looked around. A child was shrieking with joy when the booth attendant handed her a rather big brown teddy bear which her father had just won at the shooting gallery. It looked exactly like Ben - well, a new, yet unwashed and un-cuddled version of him.

Freezing for a moment, Rebecca suddenly felt as though a warm blanket was wrapped around her, and as she closed her eyes, it was as if she could hear the voice of Sabrina in her head, _"Ben was the best prize you ever won for me. I cherished every night when I could cuddle with him and enjoy the peaceful quiet, only the faint sound of your typing in the background."_

_"I'm so sorry,"_ thought Rebecca, _"I should have been there for you more often."_

"You were always there for me."

_"No I wasn't,"_ protested Rebecca. _"I should have gone with you to the cinema."_

"You were my partner, not my nanny! I would never have let you accompany me to see a film you didn't want to see."

Rebecca cringed, it was true, she didn't care for romantic comedies, and Sabrina had always said that she would rather indulge in such films on her own than having to worry about Rebecca being bored out of her mind. _"OK,"_ thought Rebecca, _"But instead of insisting on working at night, I should have spent the nights with you."_

"And not even grant me the few hours of solitude?"

Rebecca furrowed her brow in confusion, _"But I could have held you in my arms. Then you wouldn't have had to use Ben as a substitute."_

The voice in her head chuckled, _"Oh, silly Becster. Ben is a teddy bear. I loved him, but he was never and could never be a substitute for you."_

_"But,"_ Rebecca tried to argue, but the voice interrupted her.

"No but, Rebecca. The years with you were the best years of my life. There is nothing I regret, and neither should you. Stop using me as an excuse for being miserable!"

"So, what are you going to do while I'm in there getting terrified?"

Rebecca shivered as the warm-blanket-feeling abruptly vanished. Befuddled, she looked at her friend and asked, "Huh?"

When Bärbel repeated her question, Rebecca shrugged, "I might try my luck over there," she gestured with her head towards the shooting gallery. _Damn!_ she thought, had her late partner just given her a tongue-lashing? - And not the good kind either. It had certainly sounded like Sabrina. Had she dozed off for a minute or was she going crazy?

"All right," said Bärbel, "You go and have fun with the shooting. I'll meet you there, okay?"

"Okay," agreed Rebecca and watched her friend settle into one of the guided vehicles and disappear into the darkness. Perhaps she should listen to Sabrina's lecture, even if it had just been a figment of her warped imagination. Maybe her friend and the fortune teller were right after all. Perhaps she should try viewing things from a different perspective. She used to love the challenge of the shooting gallery. Maybe she could learn to love it again.

#

Surprisingly, the shooting gallery was almost empty and Rebecca was the next in line. She smiled as she spotted a little white dog curled up on a cushion in the corner of the booth.

As the guy in front of her reloaded his air rifle, she let her eyes wander over the prizes, and finally opted for a little pocket knife which only required to shoot off one of the ceramic tubes.

Once it was her turn, she bought four shots and the female attendant handed her the rifle.

Rebecca got into position, raised the rifle to her shoulder, aimed for the tube that belonged to the pocket knife and fired. However, instead of hitting the targeted tube, she nicked the tube next to it, which held a white rose. _Damn!_ she thought and reloaded the rifle. She certainly didn't want to win a stupid plastic flower now that she no longer had someone to give it to.

"That could change soon."

"What?" asked Rebecca before she realised that the voice she had heard had only been in her head.

"Almost," said the attendant with an encouraging smile.

"Why don't you just open your eyes and see what's in front of you?"

Annoyed, Rebecca ignored the voice and tried again to aim for the pocket knife. _Blast it!_ she cursed inwardly, when she nicked another splinter off the rose's tube.

"Just one more shot and you'll get the rose," said the attendant.

_"I'm sure she would appreciate the rose,"_ said Sabrina's voice in her head.

_"Be quiet! I can't concentrate!"_ thought Rebecca, refusing to look in the direction of the attendant despite feeling an odd urge to do so.

She was almost certain now that the rifle wasn't properly calibrated. It didn't happen as often as people thought, but Rebecca had experienced rigged rifles on occasion. Taking a slow breath to steady herself, she raised the reloaded rifle to her shoulder and aimed for the tube to the right of the pocket knife. Alas, instead of hitting the desired tube of the pocket knife, she missed entirely.

"You've got one more shot," said woman, "I'm sure you can make it."

Sighing, Rebecca reloaded the rifle, and raising it one more time she decided to aim for the pocket knife's tube again. _Better to win a bloody rose than nothing,_ she thought and fired.

"You did it!" said the attendant and she picked up the white rose and held it out for Rebecca to take.

Rebecca glanced at the rose and then for the first time she took a closer look at the attendant, a woman in her forties, like herself, with short blonde hair. She was wearing a green vest, which was embroidered with red and yellow flowers, over a long-sleeved white shirt and tight fitting beige leather pants. Rebecca felt her jaw drop as she thought of her future card.

The woman raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are you going to take the rose?"

"Keep it," squeaked Rebecca and cleared her throat, "You are my future."

"Excuse me?" said the attendant and furrowed her brows. Nevertheless, an amused smirk played on her lips.

"I'm sorry," stammered Rebecca, blushing, "I mean you look like The Fool... uh... no... wait... let me explain..."

The attendant leant against the counter and crossed her arms, waiting for her obviously highly embarrassed customer to continue while her workmate attended to the guy next in line.

Rebecca closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Finally, she continued, "I've just been to the tarot tent over there," she pointed in the direction of the tent.

"What tarot tent? There's no tarot tent at this fair," said the attendant.

"Of course there is!" exclaimed Rebecca, "It's behind the bratwurst booth."

The attendant shook her head, "The beer tent is behind the bratwurst booth."

"No! Between the beer tent and the bratwurst booth," explained Rebecca, "A shabby little tent. Tarot - one euro," she tried to refresh the woman's memory. "I swear it!" she said as the woman looked at her doubtfully. She hadn't imagined it, had she? No, she had definitely been there. She had looked into the woman's eyes, had heard her talk with her ears, not just in her head, and she had seen the cards with her own eyes, she had even touched them, and she had spent one euro. She certainly couldn't have imagined it all.

The attendant eyed her upset customer for a moment, then she turned to her mate, "Frank, can you manage without me for a few minutes?"

"Sure, no problem," replied Frank.

"Thanks, I'll be back in a few," said the woman and turned back to her customer, "Would you show me this tarot tent?"

"Of course," Rebecca nodded, and while she waited for the woman to exit the booth, she typed a short message for Bärbel on her mobile phone and pressed 'send'. When she looked up from her phone, she shook her head as she saw the dog, which looked like a white Spitz just less fluffy, jumping and dancing around the woman. The two really looked astonishingly similar to The Fool and his dog on the tarot card.

"My name is Mónika and that's Jojó," said the woman, pointing at the dog that was still running and jumping around her, "He follows me everywhere."

"I'm Rebecca. Is he always this energetic?" asked Rebecca as they headed for the tarot tent.

"Only when he has been inactive for a few hours," said Mónika grinning. However, her grin vanished quickly, and she said seriously, "If there really is a tent on the place you are saying, I will have to inform my uncle. The place would normally belong to my cousin and her husband, but they had an accident. They are both all right, thank God, but their trailer was destroyed. If someone snuck in and is making money on their spot, my uncle won't be pleased, to say the least."

"I don't think the old woman is making a lot of money with her one euro readings," said Rebecca, suddenly feeling the need to defend the weird toothless tarot reader, "Perhaps she asked your uncle for permission?"

Mónika shook her head, "He would have told me if there was a fortune teller here."

"What the..." Rebecca froze as they reached the end of the bratwurst booth. The shabby tent was nowhere to be seen; only an empty paper cup was lying on the otherwise bare fair ground. "I swear it was here. It can't have been more than 15 minutes since I left the tent!"

"I believe you," breathed Mónika. "Look at Jojó," she pointed at her dog who seemed to be searching the bare place with his nose, alternating between sniffing the ground and the air until he finally stopped and looked around in confusion. Again, he sniffed the ground and the air, and then suddenly he began to whine and turn around as if he couldn't make sense of what he was perceiving.

Both women went over to the confused dog.

"Poor Jojó," said Mónika as she squatted down to pet him.

Furrowing her brow, Rebecca bent down and picked up a one euro coin, "Look what I found," she said baffled, as she turned the coin around to look at it from all angles.

Raising an eyebrow, Mónika said, "That's not unusual. You'll find a lot of change lying around after so many people have been here. Jojó's behaviour is far more telling."

The dog was obviously still upset; he had buried his head in Mónika's lap and was whining quietly.

Rebecca pocketed the coin and was about to squat down too when she noticed something in her peripheral vision. Turning her head to get a better view, she squinted and took a few steps towards a flat object which lay on the ground.

"Another coin?"

"No," said Rebecca, and she turned the object so that Mónika could see it, "My future card."

Mónika nodded, "It's from a Rider deck. My great grandmother used that. Jojó was her dog until she died last year."

Rebecca looked at the card and asked, "Your grandmother was a fortune teller?"

"My great grandmother," corrected Mónika and got up from her crouching position, "Yes. Tarot reading was her specialty, although she didn't really need the cards. They were more like a tool to her to get her messages across to her customers," Mónika shook her head with a lopsided grin, "And she is obviously still doing it. It's nice to know that she is looking out for me."

"What do you mean?" asked Rebecca confused. Surely the woman didn't mean to tell her that she had spoken to a ghost? That she was hearing Sabrina's voice in her head was one thing. She could explain that with being emotional and being reminded of Sabrina so much today, so her mind could easily play tricks on her; but she certainly hadn't suddenly turned into a medium who could talk to ghosts!

"Well, what did she tell you?"

"The tarot reader?" asked Rebecca while she tried to remember what the old woman had said. When Mónika nodded, Rebecca said, "She told me to memorise my future card, and to keep my eyes open, as the cards may be more precise than I might imagine."

Mónika grinned, "There you have it. Vague as it was, no tarot reader would ever tell you to keep your eyes open for The Fool. For one of the court cards, maybe, but not for The Fool. But my great grandmother knew that I resemble the look of The Fool to a degree, including the white dog and even the rose. You didn't want the rose, did you?"

Rebecca shook her head, "No, I was aiming for the pocket knife, but I thought..."

Mónika shook her head, "My uncle's rifles aren't rigged, they are actually fairly precise. So unless you're drunk, if you're halfway decent at shooting, you should be able to hit the tube you aim for. But," Mónika continued with a wink, " _Dédi_ , my great grandmother, obviously had other ideas."

"I like her. She's catching on quickly."

There was Sabrina's voice again, and Rebecca rubbed her face with her hand, feeling confused and unsure of what was happening to her. She was about to ask Mónika a question, when her mobile phone rang. "Sorry," she excused herself and pulled out her phone. She made a face when she saw that it was Bärbel. "Yes?"

"Where the hell are you? I've been waiting for you for ages here at the damned shooting gallery! You said you'd be right back."

"I'm sorry. I got held up. I'll be there in a minute." She shut her phone and looked ruefully at Mónika, "Sorry, that was my friend. She is waiting at the shooting gallery."

"No problem, I have to go back anyway," said Mónika, and as they made their way back, she asked, "I'll finish at eight, how about we meet for a drink somewhere?"

Rebecca smiled, "That would be nice. I'm dying to hear more of your wild theories. Where would you like to meet?"

"Do you know the Rainbow Café?"

Rebecca raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I've been there once or twice."

"So, let's say, nine at the café?"

Torn between her feelings for Sabrina and the sudden wish to move on, Rebecca hesitated for a moment. The Rainbow Café was a lesbian café, and a rather nice one at that, thought Rebecca. So, Mónika didn't only look like her future card, she was also a lesbian.

_"Of course she is a lesbian,"_ said the voice in her head, _"Do you think we'd have gone to all the effort if she wasn't?"_

_"Why are you doing this?"_ asked Rebecca.

"Because you are both ready - even if you can't believe it yet"

_"Don't you,"_ Rebecca swallowed, _"Don't you love me anymore?"_

"Don't be daft, Becster. I will always love you."

"Then why are you trying to hook me up with Mónika?"

"Because I can no longer be with you, and Mónika is perfect for you."

"She belongs to the fairground people - how can she be perfect for me?"

"She doesn't live with the fairground people. She only helps out her family whenever they are in town. She is actually a nerd like you."

Pausing, Rebecca thought, _"This is not something I could have knowledge of. How the hell does my mind come up with this?"_

"Would another time suit you better?" asked Mónika when Rebecca didn't answer.

"What?" asked Rebecca, turning to Mónika, "Sorry, I'm still a bit confused."

"It's okay," said Mónika with a smile, "I just asked if nine would suit you, or if you'd rather meet at another time."

"Nine is fine," said Rebecca, returning the smile.

"All right then, nine at the Rainbow Café it is?"

"I'll be there," acknowledged Rebecca.

"Great! See you then," said Mónika, and waving good-bye she headed for the door of the shooting gallery.

Rebecca returned the waving as Mónika turned around before she let Jojó into the booth and followed him inside.

_"I have to go now,"_ Sabrina's voice sounded serious and a touch sad.

_"What? Why? Where are you going?"_ asked Rebecca with a sudden feeling of urgency.

"I can't explain; there are no words."

"Will you come back?"

_"I will always be with you in some way, but I will no longer be able to communicate with you. You are not a medium, unfortunately. Mónika's_ dédi _is helping me to keep the link. She is really cool. You should ask Mónika to tell you about her. She can also show you photos. They will reassure you that you aren't losing your marbles,"_ Sabrina chuckled.

Rebecca didn't care for Mónika or her great grandmother at the moment. The prospect of losing the connection with her beloved partner after having just begun to admit the reality of it made her heart ache all over again, and choking with desperation, she pleaded, _"Please, don't go yet. There are so many things I want to tell you."_

_"I know everything you want to tell me,"_ said Sabrina gently, _"I have been and always will be with you whenever you think of me. Now, go and have fun. Bärbel is waiting for you. And remember, I will always love you, my sweet Becster."_

A tear rolled down Rebecca's face as the cacophony of the fairground noises penetrated the deafening silence she felt as Sabrina's voice left. Blinking, she found herself still staring at the now closed door of the shooting gallery. Wiping the tear off her face, she took a shuddering breath. Surprised, she realised that despite the sadness, she felt as if a heavy weight had lifted from her, and an involuntary grin spread across her face. She shook her head at the weird mix of feelings, and when she spotted Bärbel with a bag of popcorn in her hand, looking in the opposite direction, she headed towards her friend.

"What have you been up to?" asked Bärbel when her friend finally joined her.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," said Rebecca still unable to stop grinning, and before her friend could prod further, she grabbed Bärbel's arm and exclaimed, "Let's go and have some fun!"

And a bewildered Bärbel let herself be dragged along by her suddenly unexplainably cheerful friend.

###

Thank you for reading this eBook!

If you enjoyed the book, it would be very nice if you'd leave a short review.

My Smashwords author page: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/SophiaDeLuna

My website: www.sophiadeluna.com

Discover other titles by Sophia DeLuna:

Taxi series:

Taxi (Book 1)

Taxi - Trials (Book 2)

Taxi - Trauma (Book 3)

Taxi - Timing (Book 4)

Taxi - Talk (Book 5)

Taxi - Tuxedo (Book 6)

Fantasy short stories:

Desert Wind

A Matter of Faith

Alternatives

Other short stories:

Summer Holidays (young adults, short story)

Fire and Ice (short love story)

Novels:

Hidden Secrets (science-fantasy novel)

Laments and Liaisons (romance-mystery novel)

Children's stories:

Once upon a Dragon (children's fantasy story)

The Little Owl (children's and language learners' short story / English)

Die Kleine Eule (children's and language learners' short story / German)

A kis bagoly (children's and language learners' short story / Hungarian)

