The knock resonated through the large house as the knocker fell upon the door. So many years of this, she was used to the sound. So she stood patiently, arms wrapped around a small bundle of paper.
"Who is it!" A voice sounding off made her jump.
She looked over to the side of the door and saw the tiny speaker that the harsh voice had come out of.
This was new; usually, William just greeted her at the door. She pushed a little red button and spoke into it, "Uh, its Kat—"
"Katherine!" The voice that followed was far kinder.
"Who?" The harsh voice asked.
"Relax Beatrix; she visits me all the time." The voice, she now recognized as William himself made her let out a breath of relief. "I'll be right their Katherine, don't move."
There were a few quiet minutes, where she brushed away some of her brown bangs that had a tendency to get in her face. The sound of familiar footsteps echoed inside before the door swung open. Standing there was William, tall, but not terribly so, and the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Hello! I am so sorry about the radio call, recently installed; believe me when I say it was not my idea." He waved an arm to welcome her into his house.
Katherine knew that he was the kind of person who liked to greet people personally, face to face. He was good like that, friendly. "Why did you get it then?" She couldn't help asking.
"Ehh…It was a compromise, either 24/7 guard duty or a radio. I think I chose the better don't you?" He asked giving her a smile.
She nodded in agreement and continued to follow him into his mansion. Honestly, it wasn't as big as most mansions. He was a simple man, nothing too much to worry him. The Guards were no doubt requested by his son. William was an acclaimed author and director as well as illustrator. And when she told him her story, he didn't doubt her for a second. Which was unusual for an adult, but she did sense a childlike instinct inside of him. That was probably why so many children loved his stories.
Of course his fame bread money, and as a result, thieves were constantly on a search for it. At least that's what William's son thought. Normal people were brought to an office down the hall and two the left. It was small, dry, simple, and very professional, perfect for visiting adults with business, politics, and money on their mind. Katherine, however, was brought to the kitchen, which was comfortable, small, brightly colored and full of the scent of freshly baked cookies. A laptop sat open on a small oak table draped with a blue tablecloth.
"Mmmm," Katherine said, sniffing the air, "Chocolate Chip."
"Your favorite, excuse me." He grabbed some kitchen mitts and ran to the oven pulling out the freshly baked cookies. "They'll cool in a bit."
She smiled warmly and sat down in her usual chair.
"Your fourth story was a success you know, still getting messages about it if you want to read." He pointed to his laptop, and she shook her head. "You know, I don't like taking the credit for your stories Kat," he said pointedly.
"I know, but I have lived a long time. I don't need any more fame than I already have."
He sighed, shaking his head slightly as he did, "You should read them Kat maybe they will help you—"
"No." She said simply, it was quiet, not harsh but firm.
William knew that was the closest he would ever get to truly making her angry. With a little pause to look at her with pity, he sat down at his desk and folded his hands. "So what's going on?"
She unfolded her arms from around the bundle and handed it to him, "I finished the next chapter of the fifth book."
He looked at it frowning, "Oh…I see…" He took it from her hand, the bundles lettering titled: Chapter 2. William glanced at her briefly. He knew that this was a hard book for her to write, but only two chapters? The deadline had already passed for the book's publication. Frantic readers were complaining about, hiatus. He didn't complain though, simply placed the handwritten papers on the side. "You know Kat; I really enjoy your visits."
She nodded.
"But the last couple times you've come…" He waited for her to answer.
"I know, but I'm busier now." She pulled up the sleeve of her brown sweater.
"I'm aware you feel the need to help children but, is it possible you are forgetting something even more important?" He leaned forward in his chair, "Helping yourself."
She turned away from him, unable to meet his eyes, instead of looking out over at the colored leaves that filled the window.
"Katherine, you can't help anyone else, if you don't allow yourself to heal."
She crossed her arms, "I'm fine William; we all deal with loss differently."
"But you haven't dealt! You've buried it. And that just makes things worse." He took a deep breath, "The whole point of telling me these stories was to help you."
"No, the whole point in telling these stories was to help the children, and in turn, help the Guardians. I don't need help."
He sighed deeply, running a hand over his bald head, a habit from having hair many years ago that would never be broken. "I suppose their's nothing else I can say. But if we don't get the next chapters soon the publishers may cancel the project."
"I'll get them here as soon as possible." She got up from her chair, brushing out her yellow shirt. "Thank you, Mr. J—"
"William, you know I hate being called by my last name, especially by you." He got up from his chair, "I really wish you could stay a little longer Katherine."
"I would love to, but I am a substitute at Burgess Elementary this week—"
"And then a counselor at Greenville College, then Nanny to some other poor child in California. You really need to take a break."
She smiled, "The kids need me, William. Besides, it is my job."
"Just…try to get that next chapter here when you can. Don't hurt yourself but…"
"I'll be fine. Save me some cookies for next time okay?" She smiled warmly at him, but her gray eyes held none of the normal sparkles he loved so much to see in them.
He nodded, returning the grin she gave him as well as he could, "Always. Be safe."
She made her way outside and was greeted by the brisk cold wind of autumn. William waved to her from where he stood on the porch until he could no longer be seen. She wrapped her sweater around her tighter as she headed into the woods.
Will meant well, he was kind-hearted if not a little bit of a pushover, especially with children. But she couldn't bring herself to stay and be berated any longer. It was her life, her choice. Besides, she was doing fine. Her work was going well...for the most part and the children were getting the help they need...sometimes.
Katherine let out a long breath, before releasing a low whistle and sitting on a nearby log. As much as she felt some relief from leaving here also felt a little bit of guilt for her reaction to him. He wasn't truly hurting her, perhaps she had overreacted.
A large goose, about the size of a van, came walking up to her on big flabby feet. She was pushed off the log even before she could stand, by the large affectionate birds' nose. "Kailash!" She protested at the bird tried to peck at her sweater. "No, Kailash, I have no treats!"
Kailash let out a normal squawk that Katherine translated into, "But Mother! You used to get me a treat every time!"
Katherine sighed in response and wrapped her arms around Kailash's neck. "I know sweetie, but I've been busy lately. We have our responsibilities you know."
The Goose didn't like it, but she didn't argue. With her 'Mother'. Still hugging her neck she lifted her carefully onto her back. As soon as she did she felt a massive breeze, cold and fast. Katherine shivered and pulled her bag and sweater tighter. "Let's go, before we freeze."
A boy was sitting on top of the Eiffel Tower in France. Snow was falling through the cloudy skies as he stood on top. The air brisk and icy, he held onto the spire with one hand, a crooked staff with the other. A smile played on his lips as he stared over the lit city. People below walked through it smiling. Children ran squealing, into the white dusting, teens held hands with cups of warm drink. Adults shouted protests at kids throwing snowballs. For the most part, it was a happy group of people, all having fun, just as he liked.
He rolled his staff in his hands, playing with the idea of creating a snow storm. The thought made his grin widen. Just as he was about to do so his thoughts were bombarded by another's, "Not now Jack."
"You always come at the most inopportune time Mani." But Jack smiled. Since becoming a Guardian nearly seven months before he welcomed the voice that filled his head. It was comforting and kind, usually with thoughtful advice. Maybe it was annoying sometimes, but it beat the 300 years of silence he lived with. He put a hand in his hoodie pocket as he walked over the roofs of houses.
His staff spread flowery designs of these houses he walked upon. A child looked up through a frost-covered window pane, "Mère regarde! Jack Frost!"
He easily translated the words, "Mother! Look! Jack Frost!" It was amazing how those hundreds of years wandering had made him so attuned to so many different languages. He saluted the child. His mother looked up briefly, but upon seeing nothing she scolded her child quietly and pulled them away. Jack chuckled and leaned back against a fireplace. What a beautiful night, cloudy, cold and white. Winter was just beginning, and Mother Nature was a powerful deity. He knew she wouldn't be happy if he stayed too long.
"It's time to go." Mani's voice filled his head.
Jack straightened up and looked back at the city blanketed with snow. "See you all soon." He said. Then he called for the wind and was gone.