The Ghost of Gillenormand

An invitation to trouble

         
              I find that friendship is something hard to attain, and even more so to keep. It is something based upon trust and loyalty. No, you are not permitted to tell any like that of a kin to you every secret you bear, but hiding an important truth is crucial. Some men are born with the happiest of manners, singing with the doves in the morning. They, sadly as some might deem them, can harbor terrible secrets. Some may be the deathly flaw that none must know, for they could be cast out from society, or worse.

           I am not so good at keeping friends, so I do not. Neither did our lady when it came to introductions. Marius had come and go, and would chat for many hours in his own personal time with her. She explained by using him as lab rat, she could determine if that strange fruit, otherwise known as a prickly pear, would be safe for her to use on her child.

           I will not get into the details of that any further. The date was December ninth now, and the snow fall came to be thin and more driven than the frost of November. The crisp scent would often set our lady at ease, and her mind became sharper in focus.

    While water leaked through the roof of the fourth floor, Tzilla screwed in her final touch of the door handle. The sheen aluminum was painted over the dull iron, replacing the rust she so long went to remove. A wonderful day it was for her, she found that her child no longer lay on her back, but sat up strongly to look her in the eye and giggle vivaciously.
          The neighbor boy, as our lady called Marius seemed to be awkward and distant whenever he looked to the baby. Always Efrat still have a gentle glow, and it drew him to visit more often. The speech of an infant was tiring really, and Marius was good company. However, the topic of politics never arose between them, and they surely would never agree.
         The only sentence Tzilla would have said was a quote from another she used to know ' I am not fond of globalists.'
       

       A faint glisten of sweat graced our lady's brow, and her fingers were sore. Someone had glued the old lock upon door quite handily, so it was a feet to get it off. All was well with it, it gave Tzilla and her child a home, and for once an honest living she conjured with her skill, with the great help and eternal debt to Lamarque.

      With Marius intending to say hello, he heard her clanking about upstairs. His feet so lightly came up, he did not expect a metal screw to become a projectile fired in his direction.

    "Christ!!" He bellowed.

    "Oh..... Sweet Elohim, you frightened me rabbi." Tzilla said, sitting up on her knees as she had been crossed legged on the floor.

    Marius laughed, his breath seeping out of his mouth like fire from the throat of a dragon. Our lady only found her self to be puzzled by this reaction, and her invisible brow knit tiger to make several pairs of stockings.
         "It is well Madam, you've got your reflexes in check that for sure and certain. May I ask what you are doing?"

      "Well I've be hired by the principal tenant to replace the lock on this door. She said the man living her has been complaining about people peeping through the door which cannot lock. I believe however that the only person to, peep inside without conservation is her." Tzilla was no longer interested in Pontmercy's company when he knelt  next to her.

    "The lock looks expensive, how much is she giving you to fix it?" He asked.

    "It didn't cost me much at all. I found it all rusty and broken while in the street. It's a curious find don't you think?" He grunted while biting his nail, and then the whites if his eyes shown through more pearly than of parchment.

    "So you fixed it up yourself?"

    "Yes." His hand roamed through his hair in slight recognition, and he wondered how a woman came to have a skill to do such. When he asked she only said 'A man of many talents taught me.'
       It simply wad not sufficient enough to be an answer.