Escape from Windenburg | 7

By morning, Sid was looking healthier and had found a comfortable bed of his own to finally curl up in for a much-needed full night of sleep. I could tell he'd made up his mind about this place already. He was settled in for the long haul. I couldn't blame him. I felt well-rested, clean, and safe for the first time in months. I had always taken these feelings for granted before, but now that I knew what it was like to go without, I didn't think I'd be willing to give them up again without a fight.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a chaos of big, clumsy paws scrambling across the wood floors. Before I knew what hit me, a large, fluffy dog leapt into my arms, panting excitedly, tongue flopping out to plant slobbery kisses all over my face. "Aren't you friendly?" I cooed, laughing and hugging the dog back. "What's your name?"

I lifted up the bandana wrapped loosely around the dog's neck and found a collar with a hand-crafted nameplate attached: Chiyo. "Where's everybody else, Chiyo?" I asked. The dog only yawned contentedly in response as I scratched beneath its chin.

Through the window, I could see a man I didn't recognize outside at a woodworking station. This must be Aarti's husband, I realized. He looked so deep in concentration on whatever he was crafting that I was hesitant to break his focus. I approached with slow, tentative steps and asked in nearly a whisper, "Excuse me. Are you Enji?"

He turned abruptly, a distant, unreadable expression on his face.

"I-I don't mean to interrupt. I don't know if Aarti told you about me. But I'm-"

"Rowan, of course!" he interjected, cracking a jolly, gap-toothed smile that made me question how I could have ever seen him as intimidating in the first place. "I'm sorry we didn't get to meet last night. I was out scavenging for scrap wood. Look at this beauty." He slapped his hand against the dark, sturdy hunk sitting atop his workbench. "Isn't she remarkable?"

"Um, yes, it's... a really nice piece of wood." I groaned internally at how lame I sounded, but, to me, it just looked like any old hunk of lumber. I couldn't even begin to guess what he saw in it that made this particular piece so special.

He chuckled at my attempt to be enthused then mercifully changed the subject. "Did you sleep well?"

"I don't think I've ever slept better," I replied truthfully.

"Rowan, over here!" I heard Aarti call from behind me. I had walked right past her and didn't even realize. "Join me for a minute or two, won't you?"

"It's a beautiful morning," she said cheerily. "I think spring has finally arrived. The sun is out. The birds are singing. The sky hasn't been so clear and blue in months. I don't know about you, but it immediately lifts my mood!"

My mind had been so preoccupied that I barely noticed, but she was right. There'd been a remarkable shift in the weather overnight. The temperature was mild enough to be comfortably barefoot, and the air was blessedly pollution-free for a change. I took in a big lungful. It was all almost too on the nose as a metaphor for how my own outlook had dramatically changed for the better in just a few short hours.

"I was hoping to get a head start on my garden this morning," Aarti continued, "make sure it's good and ready for a productive growing season. I thought maybe you'd like to join me."

"Of course!" I blurted immediately. I was eager to make myself useful, to prove that I wouldn't be a burden if I stayed.

But Aarti was in no hurry. She patted the empty seat next to her invitingly, and I settled in. She took a long sip of tea from her mug. "Now, I'm not usually one to pry," she began, suddenly serious, "and after today I promise I won't. But it would help me to know a little bit more about your situation. I don't need all the details. I mostly just want to make sure we're not harboring a fugitive."

I swallowed the anxious lump that had formed in my throat. "I'm not a fugitive," I told her. "I don't think I am, at least. I did run away from home, not because my family is horrible or anything. I love them, for the most part. But my mom died a few years ago, and it's been hard ever since. I think my dad just wants to forget her. He tried to forbid me from doing... activities that made me feel closer to her and demanded that I throw out a bunch of her things. He wouldn't even consider my perspective. So I left." I purposely kept my story vague, skirting around any aspect that even hinted at magic, mostly because I wasn't sure how Aarti would react but also because I didn't want to be reminded of my failures.

She was quiet for a moment, taking in everything I'd told her. "Does your dad know where you are right now?"

"Not really," I admitted. "I talked to my sister a while back. They know I'm alive."

 

"Rowan, I'm going to need you to contact him. You're still a minor. He could've reported you missing."

"No way!" I responded defensively. But then my mind flashed back to seeing Dad with the detective. Had my conversation with Sabrina been enough to appease him, or would I soon stumble across my face plastered on a milk carton? Still, the idea of calling him filled me with dread. "I can't talk to him yet. I just can't. He won't understand. He'll force me to come back home."

"Don't you think you might not be giving him enough credit - or yourself, for that matter? Maybe he'll be more understanding than you think. Maybe you're better at standing up for yourself than you realize."

I mulled this over silently.

"We'd be happy to let you stay a while," she concluded. "But that's the condition, and it's non-negotiable. Your dad has to know where you are. It's not fair to put us in the middle if he's actively looking for you."

She shook her head as if to clear it of the heaviness of our conversation. "We can worry about all that later. Now, let's get gardening! I'll go find some work clothes for you."

I wasn't sure what I was going to do about my dad, but I quickly discovered that gardening was a form of Zen I'd truly been missing out on. Soon, all of my anxious thoughts drifted away like departing storm clouds. But it was also yet another thing that reminded me of my mom. She used to love tending her modest little flower garden behind our house. As we weeded and pruned and watered, I felt her presence swell inside of me for the first time since losing my magic.

While we worked, Aarti told me more about how they lived. Aarti and Enji believed in the "wisdom of experience," which meant they thought learning most effectively occurred through getting one's hands dirty, both literally and metaphorically. Of course, they had home-schooled their children in a more conventional sense when they were younger, but as soon as they could make decisions for themselves, they set them free to start exploring and researching and experiencing their own personal whims and passions. They afforded the same autonomy and independence to any young person who came into their home, in the hopes that it would instill them with the confidence and self-sufficiency needed to successfully transition into adulthood.

"The most important philosophy we ascribe to," Aarti continued as she collected honey from her bees and I looked on in mild fear, "is that whatever passions you pursue should serve to enrich not only your life but the lives of those around you. For example, Enji is an excellent woodworker. He finds the craft personally fulfilling, but more than that, it's given him the ability to fill our home with durable, sustainable one-of-a-kind furniture while also selling his work to others, bringing profit to the entire household."

"And you're fulfilled by gardening and beekeeping," I offered, "but it also provides you with fruits, vegetables, herbs, and honey that can feed your entire family."

"Exactly! You'll find that we all have our special talents. One day, you'll discover yours, too."

"You'd better introduce yourself to the honeybees," she told me. "They'll be curious about our new house guest."

I was hesitant, to say the least, but having been soothed already by Aarti's familiar presence, the bees were surprisingly friendly, rising up from their box to circle around me in a sort of dance, their buzzing almost meditatively gentle and low. "I think they approve," Aarti said as I stood stock still and completely awestruck.

We returned to the house to find Rav waiting at the kitchen table, clearly fuming over something. The moment she saw us, she exploded. "Mom, that stupid cat keeps attacking Chiyo! You know Chi-Chi is sensitive. She hates fighting. She can't even properly defend herself. It's not fair!"

"Oh, honey," Aarti replied dismissively. "You baby that dog far too much. She hasn't been a puppy for a long time now. She's perfectly capable of standing up to a challenge, and I hardly think a feline less than half her size even poses one."

"Chi-Chi wouldn't hurt a fly! That cat just keeps scratching her up. I can't believe you're taking her side." I noticed that she avoided saying my name but somehow managed to make my mere presence sound offensive anyway. She lobbed that single syllable in my direction like a bomb. "You can't just let any random person and their pet walk in here like it's nothing. You have no idea where they've been!"

"Your father and I didn't raise you to be so judgmental, Raveena," Aarti chastised her daughter, though her voice remained calm and even. "I expect you to adjust that attitude and start treating our new guests with respect."

She passed through the living room, where Chiyo and Sid were sparring lazily, Sid batting his paw at the dog's muzzle. I knew Sid could be territorial, but it was hardly a knock-down, drag-out fight. "They're just getting acquainted with one another," Aarti said. Then she called back to me, "Why don't you go find the boys? They'll show you a few more ways you can start helping out."

I tracked down Rahul and Alejandro in the upstairs bedroom they shared. The door was already open. "Hey," I said tentatively, walking inside. I hadn't seen much of them the night before. For all I knew, they shared Rav's resentful attitude toward me. Thankfully, they greeted me with open and genuine eagerness. "Aarti said you guys could show me some of the ropes around here."

I couldn't help myself from covertly investigating the contents of the room to try and learn a little bit more about them. I was shocked to turn around and find a desk cluttered with various occult-related objects - Ouija board, tarot cards, Henry Puffer poster on the wall, and, most shockingly of all, a stack of books that bore some very familiar insignia. They were the same symbols that appeared on the covers of my mother's magical tomes, and one of the books was a striking, familiar shade of red. "Are you guys into this stuff?" I asked, as casually as I could manage.

"Hey, the paranormal is totally legit," Alejandro said defensively, his tone becoming far more animated and impassioned than it had been just moments ago. "Unexplainable shit happens every day. There's got to be more out there than meets the eye. We definitely aren't the sole inhabitants of this world, you know what I mean? That would be way too disappointing!"

"Dude, stop boring her with all your supernatural crap," Rahul piped in. He clearly didn't share Alejandro's beliefs. "I don't know why you leave that stuff out. It gives me the creeps just to look at it!"

Alejandro smirked at him. "What, you afraid a spirit's going to come flying out of that Ouija board and possess you?"

"No way," Rahul scoffed. He didn't sound like he entirely believed himself. "It's just weird, that's all."

"I think my mom had some books like that," I said, trying to sound entirely clueless. I wanted to gauge Alejandro's reaction. He was obviously naive, but I thought he might still prove useful to me at some point.

His eyes immediately lit up. "Are you serious? I found those at some weird-ass secondhand shop a few months back. They're full of nonsense. I can barely understand a word. Can you read them?"

"Dude!"

Alejandro rolled his eyes. "All right. Put a pin in that conversation. We'll come back to it once we get rid of this non-believer." Then he and I followed an exasperated Rahul to the roof. I was relieved I'd have more time to consider exactly how much I wanted to reveal.

Among the plethora of activities the household engaged in to contribute to their continued financial security, candle-making was universal: everyone (quite literally) dipped their fingers into it. I watched as Rahul demonstrated the art of dunking a long piece of string into a vat of bubbling wax over and over again, allowing it to slowly build up until it thickened.

Then Alejandro showed me how to operate the elaborate machine they used to transform fruits and flowers from Aarti's garden into fizzy juice, seltzer, and kombucha. Apparently, their drinks had become a favorite among the locals, resulting in one of their most reliably steady streams of income.

Since it took several hours for the machine to do its work, we headed back downstairs, where Alejandro grabbed us a couple bottles from an older batch to enjoy in the meantime. He was eager to resume our earlier conversation. "What do you really know about those books?" he asked.

I deflected his question with one of my own. "Have you ever actually managed to contact someone on the other side?"

He took a couple long swigs of his drink. "Well... no," he finally admitted. "But mostly because I haven't had a chance to properly try yet. I'm too nervous to go it alone, and no one else seems interested in backing me up, no matter how many times I ask. They all think I'm wasting my time with this stuff."

"I think one of those books has spells in it to do with raising the dead," I said carefully.

Alejandro's eyes widened, and he nearly spit out his drink. "Spells? You mean magic? Hold on, are you telling me-"

But Rahul shut him down again from across the room. "Come on, man, stop trying to suck her into your weird little ghost cult! I like her too much to stand by and watch her join the dark side."

I was happy to know I'd made a positive impression with Rahul. His sister was another story entirely. When I tried to apologize to Rav for Sid's aggressive behavior toward Chiyo earlier in the day, she pretended not to hear me. She just kept running her fingers through Chiyo's lustrous coat, nuzzling her face against Chiyo's head, and murmuring sweetly as if reassuring a child, "Who's the kindest, prettiest, smartest, friendliest, most well-behaved dog in the world? You are, Chi-Chi. You are!" I sighed heavily. Unless you were a cuddly canine, it seemed that attempting to win Rav over was a lost cause.

Luckily, the perfect distraction arrived in the form of Aarti asking for volunteers to set the table for dinner. I immediately offered to do it, and Alejandro helped, though I did my best to skirt the subject of magic. Instead, I tried to learn more about him, but he was being cagey, too. He would only tell me that he didn't know his biological family and had spent most of his life in overcrowded group homes until he got fed up with the system and struck out on his own. It was clear neither of us fully trusted the other quite yet.

As darkness fell, the air had grown nippy, but we all threw on a couple extra layers and barely noticed the drop in temperature. Since Mom died, family dinners at home had grown tense and mostly silent. I had almost forgotten what it was like to sit around a table with people who actually wanted to be there, talking and laughing and passing around food until we were all too stuffed to take another bite. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I actually belonged.

Well, most of us wanted to be there. Rav spent nearly the entire dinner glued to her phone, making it clear to everyone that she'd rather be anywhere else. What is her deal, I wondered to myself. As much as she intimidated me, she intrigued me, too. Her aloofness made her seem mysterious and cool, like she occupied an entirely different reality than the rest of us. She was a riddle, one I wanted very badly to crack, if she'd ever let me get close enough to try.

After dinner, Aarti surprised us with a honey cake. The scent was heavenly. "I baked it in Rowan's honor," she said, cutting the first slice for me. "If she hasn't made up her mind about staying yet, hopefully this'll be sweet enough to convince her." I was overwhelmed by gratitude. The universe had wanted me to find this place. There was no other explanation.

 

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I couldn't contain myself from leaping up to give her an enthusiastic hug.

She laughed and squeezed me back. "Is that a yes then?"

I nodded. "As long as you'll have me, anyway."

To close out the evening, Rahul and Alejandro performed a few songs on violin and guitar. Their instruments were rough but charming, probably lovingly hand-crafted by Enji himself, and the boys played well - clearly, this was their special talent. I hoped I would find my own unique way to contribute soon. For now, though, I sat back and soaked up every last little moment I could of what would almost certainly go down as one of the most perfect days in my life.

Partway through the performance, Rav hopped on her motorized bike and disappeared into the night without saying goodbye. I watched her ride off, wondering where she was going, wondering if I had done something to offend her without even speaking to her yet again. But, still, there was that small, nagging part of me that yearned to follow her, to uncover the hidden key to unlocking her friendship. Would I ever manage to find it?