Amira now had a car and was able to visit Waldmeer every weekend or so. She loved being home so regularly. Besides, there was much to do in caring for another house and garden. She put an ad in the local paper saying that a healer was available, once a week, in Waldmeer. She made the ad small hoping that the conservative folk would not see it.
Early on, Amira felt her parents in the house, occasionally. “Please don’t feel you have to visit,” she said to them knowing that they would find a change of dimensions difficult and tiring. “As you can see, I am perfectly fine. I might not look after the house quite like you, Mum,” she said with a smile, “but it’s passable, don’t you think?” She added more seriously, “You both have other things to think about now. Don’t look backwards, look forwards. Besides, I will soon enough be with you.”
Many of Lucy’s friends no longer went into Waldmeer Corner Store and Cafe. Amira didn’t go in either. One day, while in the other Waldmeer cafe, Amira saw Farkas sitting in the corner reading the paper.
“Do you mind if I join you for a moment?” said Amira.
“Maria, hello,” said Farkas. “How are you? Are you better now?”
“Yes, completely better,” said Amira. “I haven’t had an opportunity to thank you for taking me to the hospital. I eventually worked out who my ‘brother’ was.”
“Well, the nurse was so insistent to know who I was,” said Farkas explaining nothing. He didn’t mention that the reason he said he was her brother was because Galahad had once told him that Maria was his sister under a different name. Everything about that was confusing but Galahad was a male of fewer words than Farkas.
“I have a new name now,” said Amira. “It’s Amira. Do you like it?”
“Amira?” said Farkas. “Amira, yes, yes, I like it. I like it very much. I used to have a friend called Amira.” He struggled to recall who that friend was exactly. It was not only Farkas who could not remember his long ago association with Amira. It was Amira too. As a human, many things disintegrate when one enters the Earth’s atmosphere. Memory is one of them.
“We are closing now,” said the waitress.
They walked out of the cafe into the late afternoon. It was the end of winter. They could hear the ocean rolling in; unrelenting and unconcerned with the fast fading light.
A seriousness grew over Farkas’s face. “I hate winter,” he said. “Sometimes, I hate Waldmeer.” He might as well have said I hate myself but he stopped before those words had a chance to come out. Amira touched his hand.
“Please stop hurting yourself,” said Amira. “That voice you listen to is no friend. It promises so much but when has it ever given you what it promised? When has it ever given you any happiness longer than a fleeting moment? It has your destruction as its goal, not your happiness.” Farkas put his hands in his jacket. He didn’t want to hear such words but the trouble with words like that is, once heard, they become implanted in our mind. There they grow whether we like it or not. The road is certain for anyone who ventures near it.
“It’s not as dark as last week when I was here,” said Amira. “The days are definitely getting longer. The cold will be gone soon.”
“I’m glad you are better,” said Farkas looking at Amira. “I’ll go home now.”
“Yes,” said Amira. “So will I.”
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