Gwynna spent the first night in the house of her grandparents almost sleepless. She was used to the noise of New York because the city never slept. Here you could only hear the noise of the trees and some nocturnal animals running through the garden or sitting in the trees. She also kept thinking about her uncle's letter. Why didn't he just come to her? Why would she meet him in the dark in a park? Was he a criminal on the run, perhaps? Around four o'clock in the morning she finally fell asleep and dreamed of wandering shadows.
The next morning she trotted into her bathroom completely tired and threw her underwear into the laundry basket before she went into the shower and let the warm jet trickle on her head. Her grandmother had bought her favourite shampoo for her - with jasmine fragrance - and Gwynna thoughtfully foamed her hair with it. After shaving her armpit hair, she took a large towel from the washbasin and dried herself. Finally she wrapped a towel around her wet hair, because she liked to dry it without a hair dryer and went back to her room, fetched new lingerie from the dresser and rubbed herself with body lotion before putting on a pair of jeans and a shirt with short sleeves.
Gwynna marched the winding wooden staircase to the ground floor. Arriving down in the small entrance hall, she opened the front door and took the fresh milk bottles from the porch, which were delivered every day. Arriving in the kitchen, she took coffee pads out of the drawer - her grandparents also eagerly and joyfully operated the machine that Gwynna had given them for Christmas - and brewed a cappuccino. Finally she fetched toast from the fridge and toasted it. Gwynna especially liked to eat it with melted butter. After she had prepared her breakfast, she went out onto the terrace and sat down in the Hollywood swing to drink her cappuccino.
The silence was heavenly. Finally she was able to relax and unwind. Gwynna noticed how tense and nervous she had been lately. The city, the work demanded everything from her, she had practically no private life any more, even her last relationship attempt had therefore failed. She remembered David, the saxophone-playing teacher she had met through her friend Melissa. "Melissa had said at that time and dragged him along to a dinner. Well, Melissa knew her well. David was tall, broad-shouldered, had dark brown hair and light brown eyes, and was a humorous and interesting conversationalist. They had laughed a lot on this first evening, followed by others at different locations: Cinema, theatre, restaurant, park and finally David's apartment, which he shared with a friend to save rent.
Gwynna remembered the embarrassing moment when David had kissed her and she was just about to rip his shirt off when his chaotic roommate stormed into the room, completely drunk, bottle of beer in his hand, pants half open and "sorry, puking" on the way to the bathroom ridding himself of his stomach contents. The romantic evening had thus become a two-hour cleaning orgy to remove the mess, while his buddy lay snoring loudly in David's bed.
Gwynna swore that she only wanted to have sex in her apartment and promised David a next date with her. And just when she thought it would become a relationship, her colleague Stuart broke his arm and Gwynna had to take over his shifts, so her life turned into eat-sleep-work-eat-sleep-work. So she could forget about dates, sex as well and Dave threw in the towel after six weeks, not without first calling her frigid. Oh how she loved her job! She wondered if people in earlier centuries had it easier in certain things. At least they didn't know the stress of a big city, but they had essential existential problems. Life was simpler, hardly any technology, laboriously safe, no proper medical care, but nevertheless...
And so the day went by with dreaming. After the night program on television, which Gwynna had listened to only with half an ear, she went to bed and finally fell asleep deeply and firmly. As morning approached, the meeting with her uncle came closer. At noon Gwynna took a ready meal from the freezer and warmed it in the microwave. She ate without appetite. The day was slowly coming to an end and still she hadn't made a decision if she wanted to meet her uncle, if she even wanted to take the chance to go alone into the park in the dark. Of course, she could go to Elizabeth's brother's house and ask him to accompany her, but what would she tell him? 'Oliver, I'm about to meet someone in the dark in the park pretending to be my uncle. Could also be a psycho. Maybe I won't make it through the night'? I don't think so. He would probably advise her to call the police and barricade herself in the house. No, that wasn't the answer.
Slowly the sun leaned towards the earth, the garden was bathed in red light. Gwynna had pulled a sweater over her shirt and black shoes with which she could run if necessary. "Damn it!" she thought and marched to her car just as the sun was setting. The park was only 10 minutes away and was well frequented during the day. Families liked to hike through the well-kept complex. The tall trees stood on the edge. Gwynna could still remember the oak tree that Cedric had mentioned as a meeting place in his letter. It stood in the more wild part of the park and was at least two hundred years old. Gwynna had taken a flashlight and a kitchen knife as a precaution - who knew what was waiting for her there?
Finally she reached the park. The lanterns were on fire in the parking lot and she got out of her car. She didn't lock the car. Maybe she had to flee quickly and whether she could put the car key into the lock in panic was very questionable. There were no lamps burning in the park anymore, since a petition had enforced their deactivation, because one feared to disturb the nocturnal animals of the park with the brightness. So Gwynna had to rely on her flashlight and so she lit up the path she was hurrying along. She flinched every time it rushed in the bushes along the way and was glad when after a few minutes the contours of the old oak appeared.
There was no one there. Gwynna stopped. She hadn't expected that. She got closer to the tree. Nothing. She walked around the tree. Nothing. Now she got angry. Did someone take the liberty of joking with her?
"Cedric? Damn it, if you're anywhere, then show yourself! What the fuck!" Gwynna drove herself over her forehead and pushed the unruly hair back, which had already come off the clasp again. "All right, I'll go then. Spinner" she murmured, but then suddenly she heard a strange noise. A buzzing like thousands of bees sounded behind the tree and an unnaturally bluish waving light manifested itself. Gwynna gasped in horror, took a step back and fell over a stone along the way. "Ow!" she screamed up and landed with the back on the lawn. She also lost her flashlight, which fell to the ground and went out.
At that moment, a figure emerged behind the tree. It was a man in his 40s. He was lit by the strange light that was still visible. Gwynna saw a beard, shoulder-length hair and a strange garment consisting of a coat shirt, leather belt, wide trousers and high boots. At the side hung a small leather bag on the belt. The man looked like a person from times long gone. He stepped on her.
"Gwendolyn ? Is that you?" Something seemed familiar to her in his voice. He stepped closer and offered her his hand to help her up from the ground.
"Uncle Cedric?" "Yes, my child. I'm Cedric." Gwynna took the offered hand - it was rough and strong - and rose from the ground. "I-I lost my flashlight."
"Oh, it doesn't matter." Cedric turned around, went back to the tree and pulled out a lamp containing a large burning wax candle. "I brought one."
He held up the lamp to take a closer look at Gwynna.
"You look like my mother. You've never met Ailis, have you?"
Gwynna looked at him surprised. "No, I only know dad's parents. I don't even have a picture of them. Mum never really talked about her."
Gwynna saw the bluish light behind the tree slowly fading.
"So, what's this? Where the hell did you just come from? I just walked around the whole tree and there was nothing. What kind of light is that? What do you even look like? What's this meeting in the middle of the night in this park for? Why haven't you called me back?"
Cedric smiled slowly as Gwynna's questions poured into him. He raised his hand: "Gwendolyn-". "They call me Gwynna."
"Well, Gwynna, I'd like to explain everything to you. I brought a blanket. We can sit next to the tree, then I'll try to explain everything to you."
Cedric took his lamp and went to the tree where he pulled out a blanket from an opening.
"I brought it the last time. You can't take so many things at once, you know?"
Cedric spread out the blanket and placed the lamp next to it on the floor. The candle gave only little light, so that Gwynna could hardly see his features.
"Sit down, there's a lot to tell." Gwynna cautiously approached and finally sat facing Cedric, who leaned his back against the tree.
"Well? I'm listening." Cedric sighed. "When I start, please don't interrupt me. I know that what I am about to tell you is hard to believe, but still, listen to me first. I'll try to answer all your questions then. Is that all right?"
"All right. I'm listening." Gwynna put her knees up and embraced them with her arms.
"So I'm telling you the story of a man who moved out to look for something he couldn't find here."
Gwynna couldn't help himself. "In this country?"
Cedric smiled. "No... in this time. But now shsh."