I approach the bus stop. A soft wind has picked up, and Russet stuffs emself back into my bag to avoid detection. I stand under a large tree, which provides much-needed shade from the summer heat. Awaiting the bus to take me to the airport, I peek back up at the mountain that I just hiked down, smiling fondly at the small, huddled white buildings that sit atop its peak. I wonder if he misses me already.
The bus finally arrives and I take my seat in the back, gazing out the window to watch Iris Academy shrink farther and farther away until it's completely out of sight.
We make it to the airport and Russet sneaks under my shirt, then when I receive the pat down e teleports away from spot to spot, clinging onto me. It tickles, but the security guard only smiles at my giggling, unaware.
We board the plane without a hitch, and once the plane lifts off, to my delight I find that no one is seated next to me. I sit my bag beside me and prop it up so that Russet can peak out of the plane window without being seen.
"I've never flown before."
"You'll enjoy it, if you're not afraid of heights." I inform.
"By the gods! Look how high up we are! And this is how the mundane regularly travel?"
I chuckle. "It's pretty impressive isn't it? All done without magick." We admire the bright sky, and Russets hops with excitement as we tear through the clouds.
Funny to think that e's an old man, in actuality. But I suppose when one is sexless and has a life-expectancy spanning for centuries, there is no standard form of behavior. I mean, e looks like a stuffed animal- makes sense e would be so... cute.
"Will Verwildert be waiting there for us?" E asks.
"Yes, he's expecting us, so he'll already be there when we arrive."
E chirps softly. "Oh, we have so much catching up to do. I look forward to exploring your home as well."
I smile sheepishly. "It's his home to be honest. I was just lucky enough to be welcomed in. Papa will make sure you'll feel right at home yourself, and this time you can try my cooking."
"Ooh. I'm looking forward to that! Be sure to prepare plenty of potatoes. They're my favorite!"
I cannot help myself when I snicker at the hilarious coincidence. Hahahaha! Russet potato!
When e finally falls asleep, I take the chance to start writing my letter to the professor. I twirl the pen around and resist the urge to tap it against the notebook, otherwise Russet will wake up and I'll lose my brief period of privacy. What to write? What to write?
I can't think of anything!
Maybe I'm being silly. I haven't even been away a day yet and I'm so eager to send him a letter. A blush creeps over me. I should let some time pass. In fact, I should wait until he writes to me first. I close the notebook and begin snacking on my peanut butter and banana sandwich.
Still I find myself distracted. Lumie, you need to calm down. I touch my cheek. He kissed me. Then my lips. He actually kissed me.
Then I panic.
Does that mean we're making a go of this marriage thing? I twitch. Woah! Are we?! I hadn't even thought of that. I was so wrapped up in the moment, I didn't bring it up. Does this mean he's my boyfriend now? D-do I have a… Boyfriend? I shift around, hoping no one else is noticing my internal turmoil. But I don't think the professor would appreciate being referred to as "boyfriend". It'd probably make him gag. But, he is my "husband". Would he mind it if I called him out on that? ...Ugh, actually that's a bad idea.
What are we anyway?
Lovers?
No. Not really. I'm not exactly '"feeling the love".
But we're together.
But we're not 'dating', per say.
But we're married...
He's definitely more than just a crush now- our feelings are out in the open. Whatever they are...
I'm in a relationship with my professor!
Not a contract, not a prison, but a young, fragile relationship. I mean it is a contract, and it kinda does act like a metaphorical prison.
Stop, Lumie. Stop. You're thinking way too much into this. Just relax. Enjoy the ride. Eat your sandwich, and maybe you should take a nap like Russet.
I don't, I drift off here and there, but I can't get my mind off of Hieronymous. Huh. When did I start referring to him by name? Hieronymous… I like his name. And what was his father's name. Aloysius? I wonder what they mean. Maybe it would impress him if I found out. I make a mental note to do just that.
Lumie get a hold of yourself! Do NOT become a boy-obsessed, love-struck, sappy teenager.
Er. Well. He's no "boy". That's for sure. Mmm.
No! No! Do not think about him! Even if he is refined, intellectual, confident, commanding, and mysterious…
Dammit. Ginia was right. I "totally have the hots for him".
Get him out of your head. Get him out of your head. Get him out of your head! He's not even here. Do not become the clingy-girlfriend!
But no, wait. I'm not his girlfriend, isn't that what I was debating about earlier?
And he's most certainly not my boyfriend, if that's the case.
Man-friend?
I breathe out, trying to find my zen. It's alright to be excited. It's okay to be nervous too. This is all new to you, Lumie. It's only natural that you'd freak out and gush a little bit. Just. Don't. Be. A moron.
He doesn't have to be all you think about. There are tons of other things to be thinking about!
…Oh, there's no helping me. Is there?
Agitated, and embarrassed, I pull out a puzzle book full of crosswords, word searches, and riddles. That should occupy me for the rest of the flight.
Three more hours later, and we make it back to New York. It's a struggle to get down the stairs and find my suitcase because the airport is packed. How could I forget? It's summer. TOURIST SEASON. That means it's going to be loud and hot, and all the good places to go are going to be crowded.
…I am becoming bitter before my time.
I'm pushing my way through the crowd, hugging my backpack, poor Russet is clinging onto me for dear life. I turn this way and that. Where is he? He should be here by now. I wish I had a cell phone.
"Missy!"
I gasp in happiness. "Papa?"
I see a long arm waving over the throngs of people. "Over here!" I follow the German accent to my beloved grandfather.
He squeezes me, and I have to remind him that Russet is in my bag, and not to crush em. " I missed you so much."
"I missed you too. Velcome back!" He leads us away and outside the airport we wait for a cab.
Russet whispers from my bag. "Pssst! Verwildert!"
Papa turns around in surprise, recognition in his face. He whispers back. "Russet? Vhy hello zere! Goot to see you. You actually came. How vas zee ride?" Papa offers his finger and Russet shakes it heartily.
"Smooth as cream, thanks to Lumie here." Russet has to stuff emself back in my bag as the cab strolls up. We enter, and Papa sits in the back with us.
I'm confused. "We're not going home yet, Papa?"
"Not yet. I vant to take you both out to eat first."
I blink. "The both of us? Are we going somewhere special?" I half whisper- half giggle.
Papa winks. "Indeed vee are. Now zat you're old enough and properly registered, vee can finally start havink some enchanted fun."
We exit the cabby and after paying the fee, Papa takes my suitcase and rolls up to a shopping strip a little ways from the city's most famous park. We pass many restaurants and make our way up beside a diner. But we don't enter the diner. Instead, we stand adjacent to it, facing its back wall.
Uhhhhh.
Papa taps his cane on the cement in a numerical pattern and the wall shimmers to reveal a hidden door. "Papa? How do the mundane not see us?" I look behind us. People are just walking by, not even noticing the magick being performed in broad daylight.
Papa opens the door open for us. "A very advanced combination of spells, beyond your textbooks Missy. Zis is government magick. No one non-magickal can so much a look at zis spot- in fact vee currently do not exist."
I figured as much, so it seems that there are secret spots stashed all over the world for us wizard-folk to hide in. A part of me thought we lived everyday lives just like the mundane and that it was up to us to keep ourselves hidden.
There's no way I'd be able to do magick like this. Despite my large arsenal of spells, if I tried to hide, people would see me disappear first, then I would vanish. But here we are out in the open and no one even knows! I can't even grasp how they managed to pull that off in one simultaneous swoop.
Papa leads us inside and I'm pulled from my thoughts to marvel at the sight in front of me.
The walls are bright yellows, greens and blues with tiny zig-zagged prints on the wallpaper. The floors are a sandy tile, savory scents waft through the air, reminding me of barbecue. The entire place is happily lit with bright, warm lights. I notice the many, many paintings dotting the walls, but there's something a little more to them…
They're moving! They're not paintings- they're portals! That one over there is depicting a boat at sea that has bobbing waves and soaring seagulls. I can even hear them calling, and the waves crashing. This one over here depicts a majestic forest. I can hear the sounds of hidden wildlife, the rustling of leaves, and the trees sway in the passing breeze while a red bird hops to and fro from branch to branch. A deer pops into view, to nibble on some grass. Oh, and this one I can actually smell, because I'm close enough. It's raining. The pitter patter of heavy rain against a scenic road lulls my ears. I can smell the fresh air, the water, the damp soil. There are a few rumblings of thunder.
But the décor isn't all there is to this place, our small group is the most human-looking here.
That man has one rather large, sharp fang protruding from his closed mouth. He also has small horns on his head and long, pointed ears, with clay-colored skin that is pigmented with blackish-brown stripes. He's sitting amidst a group of his own kind, all different shades of clay with variants to their horn and fang sizes. Some are striped, some speckled, some plain.
I see a woman with feathers behind her ears and bird wings. She's thin, with a long, pointed nose, she's also got piercing eyes. Her hair is short and spikey, it curves delicately upward with golden highlights. She's quite the looker.
Sitting opposite her is another gorgeous woman. Long, silky black hair that trails down to the floor, bright green eyes with slits for pupils and a thin, short nose, she has a sharp bone structure. The both of them have long nails, but I'm going to assume those are claws. I realize when I pass her, she has a snake tail for her bottom half instead of legs.
Russet emerges from my bag to sit atop my shoulder, looking rather comfortable now that e is free to be out in the open. Papa directs us further in and I pass more people and paintings- though I don't really know what they are actually called. I have to duck to avoid a floating tray of food over my head. Then I have to lift my foot to avoid squashing a family of pygmies.
The food looks normal enough, but one has to scrutinize the details to tell the difference.
For one instance, that salad has leaves bigger than my face. The fruit on that platter is glowing. That plate of food over there has a fish I've never seen before with spikes on its skin and sharp teeth. I watch as a waiter comes in with a butcher's knife to chop off the head, which the customer mentioned contains a venom that e is not immune to. Yikes! What animal did that hunk of meat come from?! It's humongous -almost as big as the table- and it's still on the bone!
Papa snags us a small booth at the far end of the place, only two or three tables are adjacent to us. That, and they're not too close to be within hearing range. A basket of bread is set on our table, which Russet happily partakes in. I look at the painting hanging on the wall to my left. It's an expansive field of rolling hills, covered in flowers. The sky is cloudless and the sun is bright, there is a slow breeze that lifts the floral perfume into the air and to my nostrils.
"I can see you're impressed. And you schould be. Hehe. Zis is Zee Compass Crossvays."
"Compass Crossways?" I repeat.
"Aye. It's one of zee few restaurants zat uses so much magick. Aside from zee Oservorld. I know every goot place to eat in zee city. But zis, is on zee favorites list of mine."
I'm a little lost.
"It's called zat because zis place offers a range of food from all over zee vorld. Includink zee Oservorld."
I gasp.
He chuckles. "It's a place vere zee rich and poor can dine alike. Zee prices range from very cheap to absurdly expensive. Your bill of course, is determined by how exotic you prefer your meals. I know you've been gawkink at zee paintings, vell. Zey aren't just for looks. Zey are more like dimensional mirrors zan artvork. Vere you are seated vill determine vat menu is offered to you. And zat menu is determined by vat paintink you are seated vith. See ours?" He motions his hand to the field of flowers and hills.
"You're a vegetarian. So I sought zis may be zee best. Plenty of Oservorld herbs and fruits you haven't tried yet, I'm sure. But notink dangerous for you to try, either. Maybe funny-tastink, but not deadly. And if you don't feel like beink adventurous, you can alvays settle for a salad or soup of some kind. And zee food is seasonal here as vell. So if you're goink to order sometink mundane, it'll be from a selection of sommer vegetables I'm certain. Zey change zee general décor every season too, if I'm not mistaken. Zat explains vhy it looks like a Hawaiian hut since zee last time I've been here."
Aw. He thought this all out for me? "This is awesome! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I say happily and excitedly.
Papa looks proud of himself.
"Well, Verwildert, shall we pick up where we left off?" Russet offers.
"Ah. Yes. Vee schould." He agrees.
Russet's ears perk up. "Oh. You know what, we should include Lumie in this conversation, I'm sure she wants to know as much as I."
"Know what?"
"Ve'll do zat." Papa decides.
The three of us decide to shift and fidget and make ourselves comfortable. Papa speaks first. "I've known you for a goot length of time now. But, because of your predicament, you haven't been able to explore my past as much as I've explored yours."
I stiffen. He's right. I know near nothing about his origins. His magickal ones anyway.
"You said you hail from a large farm in Germany, Verwildert?"
He does, I at least know that.
"Aye, I do. I vasn't alvays rich, you schould know. I vas taught zee value of hard vork! I grew up in zee country. I lived vith my Mama and Papa, and my brothers. I'm zee middle child of fünf children."
Russet interrupts. "What does 'fünf' mean?"
Papa raises an eyebrow at me expectantly.
"Oh. Yes. 'Fünf' is 'five' in German. Um. Let me tell you the numbers from one to ten. Papa doesn't always count in English." He nods, depicting a face that says "Go on." I clear my throat, ready to alliterate, and motion the numbers with my fingers as I count in German. "Ahem! Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben, acht, neun, zehn."
Russet squints and nods, then resumes eating es bread.
"And zee numbers from elf to zwanzig?" Papa challenges.
Russet sits up straight, ready to learn. I use both of my hands to shape out the numbers to em. "Elf, zwölf, dreizehn, vierzehn, fünfzehn, sechzehn, siebzehn, achtzehn, neunzehn, zwanzig." Pfft, this is baby stuff, I don't why he would test me other than to show off.
Papa smiles and goes back to sitting in a relaxed manner, his "tutor mode" presumably passed.
"What else should I know?" Russet asks.
Papa again, looks to me, resuming "tutor mode".
Darn it, now I've got to make sure I don't mess up. "Well, he speaks fluent English Russet, it's just that his accent can get pretty thick. Once in a while he might break out into full-blown German, but that's usually when he's engaging in a private conversation with me. So I don't think you need to worry about anything else."
"Well that's no fair, I at least want to be able to get the gist of what you two would be talking about."
I don't even have to look at Papa to know what he expects of me already. He's probably eager to show off his star-student.
Russet scooches closer to me, awaiting my response.
Okay, better teach him the absolute basics then, because I don't plan on spending my entire summer teaching a brownie how to speak German.
"From the top then:
Sunday-Sonntag, Monday-Montag, Tuesday-Dienstag, Wednesday-Mittwoch, Thursday-Donnerstag, Friday-Freitag, and Saturday-Samstag."
Russet repeats the numbers from one to ten, and then the days of the week.
"Now, for the months of the year:
January-Januar, February-Februar, March-März, April-is the same. May-Mai, June-Juni, July-Juli, August- is also the same. So is September. October-Oktober, November-is... November. Lastly, December-Dezember."
Russet needs to go through the months two more times before getting it memorized.
"Last lesson, Russet." I say.
I clear my throat. "New Years- Silvester, Valentine's Day- Valentistag, Halloween- Allerheiligen, Thanksgiving- Danksagung, Yuletide-Weihnachtszeit. Those are the holidays we celebrate in this family, anyway. Neither of us are the religious type. But if you have any more, I could translate for you. Oh, I forgot! Birthday- Geburtstag, and Anniversary-Jahrestag."
Papa hums in approval.