Three Converts

Part 21

"Hi Annie." My voice was lost in the hum of the crowd. I gave her a tap on the back. The woman turned with a smile, but I could tell things didn't register at first. Then, slowly she took in my clothes.

"Oh, my. Lucy." Her lips quivered and the next thing I knew I was suffocating in her ample chest. Suffocating in a good way, I supposed. I gave a little wiggle to indicate I needed air, which she provided. Her chest heaved with laughter. "Oh my, oh dear. Oh honey." She wiped tears off her round cheeks. Gosh, I'd expected a smile and hello, but this was something else completely.

"Gibby! Gibby!" A man appeared, who was looking at Annie with such adoration, he may as well have had two bright red hearts in his eyes. "Gibby, my love, can you man our station for a bit? I need a few moments with our Lucy."

"You wish is my command, Sweets," he smiled with a little bow, then shocked me by forcefully taking Annie in his arms, spinning her around and kissing her with gusto. It was quite a feat because she was at least a foot taller than him and probably outweighed him by fifty pounds. She swatted at him like a schoolgirl, and shooed him one way and me another. I'd never seen a kiss before. I was still considering it as she ushered me gently out of the tent.

"In here! In here!" She pushed me into a store and my stomach grumbled in instant recognition. "First order of business. You need a pastry." There was a huge line of people, but Annie motioned to somebody at the side of the counter and they passed her a pre-packaged box. We found a booth that was surprisingly quiet, given the crowd in the pastry shop. She set a napkin on the table and plopped something on top of it. "It's a Danish," she informed me. "Eat."

Even if I'd wanted to refuse, something in Annie's voice suggested I shouldn't. Shakily, I took a bite. It was the most incredible thing I'd ever tasted. Diety himself must be the baker in the back room. There was no other explanation. I closed my eyes to close out all other senses. "Glorious," I murmured, and Annie laughed.

"The healing powers of Danish," she chuckled. She let me finish every last bite, then put another in front of me. I was stuffed and my teeth ached from the sweet, so I let that one sit.

"Now, tell me everything," she ordered in a bossy, but polite sort of way.

Still, I hesitated. I was reluctant to badmouth the commune. My family was there. Most people on the mountain were good, and I didn't want my story to taint the commune's reputation. Instead, I tapped my fingers on the table and offered her a smile.

"Ah," Annie nodded, understanding. "Loyalty. Of course, you are a dear, loyal girl." She leaned back in the booth and her wooden bench creaked.

"I was not as loyal, but I still remember the... complicated emotions."

I shook my head, confused. "Sorry?"

She took a bite of her own Danish. Swallowing hard, she said softly, "I grew up on the mountain too."

This was hard to believe. Annie was older than me, but not that much older than me. Maybe ten years? When somebody leaves the commune, the scandal reverberates for years. I would still be hearing about her.

"I was Kimmyann back then."

And just like that, it made perfect sense. Her kindness toward me, her understanding. She knew the gravity of what I'd done.

"Kimmyann," I whispered.

She put a finger to her lips. "Shhh. They'd still try to haul me back up that mountain if they could."

"What? No. I'm so confused!"

So Annie/Kimmyann told me her story: