"See ya, Daniel. Same time tomorrow?"
"Sure, Eva. Only next time, remember the history book. We need to study…"
"I know. I won't forget!"
"That's what you said about the grammar book, the science text, the…"
"Look, I'll tie a ribbon on my finger for it," Eva smirked from the driveway, "If I have one." Her study partner laughed out loud from the doorway, "Well, remember this time." Eva just smiled and waved good-bye as she slung her book bag over her shoulder, ready to ride home on her rocket seat.
She was cruising at a low speed around Daniel's neighborhood; the memory of the rude traffic cop still delicately raw in her mind. Rounding a corner, she spotted a late garage sale packing up. Just for the fun of it, she stopped to take a look.
Most of the labeled boxes were filled with old, handled toys, another of clothes in the same condition. The items she would have been slightly interested in were already carted back into the house. Turning around to leave, however, something caught her eye.
A slightly battered book stood in front of her, cover made to look like a leaf embossed with a bronze title. Curiosity aroused, Eva walked toward it and dusted the cover, reading the peeling words after her sneeze blinded her for a bit:
Fables of Naurasia; translated by Medina Smith, it said.
"Can I help you?" A voice jerked Eva's surprised mind over to the woman working the sale. "Um, sure," she said, showing the lady the book, "How much does this cost?"
"This thing? Well, aren't you the surprising one. Aren't you affected by the current force of negativity aimed at the "Crog's puppets"?
"Uh, no. I met a nice guy, a Naurasian, and he became my pen pal." She wasn't lying; the prince of Naurasia, busy though he was, usually sends one letter per week to her door via winged (and feathered) serpents able to cast small portals to outside her window every Monday morning, patiently waiting up to two days (she never pressed her luck) for her to quickly write a reply.
"Pen pal; well, aren't you an old-fashioned person. Tell you what; since you're so kind with people like him, I'll let you have the book for free."
"Really? I-I mean, no, I'll pay you for this…"
"No, dear; just promise that you'll stay his friend and never turn your back on him. Princes usually don't go against the people who owe them kindness."
Eva was halfway down to the curb where her rocket seat was parked when the irony of the woman's words hit her. Prince? "Hey, how'd you know..?" She stopped yelling when the lady smiled at her from her door, and closed it.
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The lady walked into her home office and started a letter: My dear Aikka, this is your cousin Maralin writing from her humble abode of Earth. I finally met your young friend and have given her your gift…
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Eva, once reaching the main road, sped like an arrow down to her home. "Eva, is that you?" Her father, Don, was working at dinner when she came back in, yelling, "Later, Dad; got work to do," as she jumped the stairs two at a time up to her room.
The steady light of late afternoon met her as she opened the door at the far end of the second floor. Putting down her book bag, Eva leapt into the armchair usually reserved for homework, Fables in hand. Burying herself amongst the pillows, she opened the cover to have a card fall out. The cover was hand painted; a scene of beauty as she pulled her eyes over the flowing river, the starlit streets, and the two moons among the white stone houses and groups of Naurasians walking the paths.
Inside: Eva, the Festival of Blooming requires me to send gifts to all my close friends. I trusted this to a close acquaintance of mine to pass on to you, seeing that the mail couldn't handle packages that well. May your days be filled with life; sincerely, Aikka.
Placing the card on her nightstand, Eva opened the book and began to read.