A WORLD OF MAGIC
On the way back to the house, he related his dream to Chick. When he began to describe the girl on the hill, Chick stopped him.
“It sounds like you saw Sarah. She’s one of ours. Been living at the house for a couple of months. She loves to dance at the top of the hill. Same spot all the time. She rarely does it during the day though.”
“Sarah,” he said. Alex liked the way the name felt on his tongue and in his head. “She lives at the house?”
“She does, but, I must warn you, she’s very much a free spirit. I have seen many of my brothers try to move into her space. Most by now have given up on what they perceived as being a hopeless cause.”
Chick glanced at his companion, who had resumed his awkward gait, and could not help but feel a twinge of pity. The writer had been here less than a day and already had sore feet, in addition to his soon to be broken heart.
“Take a breather. I’ll give you a tip, only to delay the sting of rejection by a day or two.”
Alex gratefully stopped walking and gave his full attention to his newfound friend.
“At night, before their bedtime, Sarah will tell the three children of the house a story. Sometimes another woman or two will join her but never any of the men. It might be beneficial for you to sit in at storytelling time.”
“Why haven’t any of the other guys tried that?” Alex asked as they resumed their walk.
“Because it’s storytelling time,” Chick replied as they continued their walk.
They arrived at the house on Ashbury Street shortly after six in the evening. Alex relied on his watch because Chick refused to wear one. Chick, in fact, had pressed hard during the day for Alex to lose his. “Keeping track of time is a businessman’s burden,” he said at one point. “Let the day flow into the night on its own accord. That is the natural way of things. Step out of the world of time and into the world of magic.”
His heartfelt speech affected Alex to the extent of moving the object of scorn from his wrist to his pocket.
The difference in the house between the time they left it and now was quite amazing. The place virtually bustled with activity. A group of hippie types, men and women, lounged out front, while inside the open front door he saw figures walking back and forth.
They climbed the wobbly steps; Chick introduced him to those assembled outside. After the handshakes and the raised fingers of peace, Alex resigned himself to forgetting most of the names he had just heard. The women had the odd names of Belladonna, Cactus Girl, Celeste, and Isis. The men’s names were mostly normal, Skip, Benny, and Cowboy. The exception was Sandman who, according to Chick, earned his moniker by his ability to fall asleep at any time without provocation.
Inside, they encountered a flurry of activity. He attempted to appear nonchalant as he scoured the room for a girl named Sarah.
“Supper time is a big deal around here,” Chick announced. “No one wants to miss a meal prepared by the Hope sisters.”
“Who are the Hope sisters?” Alex asked, as two small girls playfully ran past him.
“They’re trained chefs who decided to take a sabbatical from their cooking school to visit our eccentric community. They’ve been here for over a year.”
More introductions took place in the hallway before they moved into the kitchen. Alex saw her immediately. Her back was to him as she prepared food over the sink. She was dressed as she was on the hill. He saw that she remained barefoot, and the crown of flowers still adorned her head. The room was alive with activity as several women shuffled about, preparing the evening meal. Alex only saw one, a girl dressed in white with flowers in her hair.
“Ladies,” Chick said loudly. “Allow me to introduce our newest boarder, Alex.”
He broke out of his daze long enough to realize that this was the first time Chick had addressed him by his given name.
The kitchen became quiet as everyone stopped in his or her tracks and turned to the new houseguest. He acknowledged them by a wave of his hand and an ill at ease grin.
When she turned to face him and their eyes met, his heart melted in his chest. His dream, and the brief sighting of her on the hill, had not prepared him for her delicate beauty.
She wore a dress of pure white. Thin straps held it to her shoulders. The dress continued to her ankles where it billowed out, but not enough to hide her bare feet.
Her long blonde hair, parted evenly across her brow, followed the curve of her shoulders, ending near her elbows. Centered atop her head was a tiara of colorful flowers, all in various stages of bloom.
Around her neck was a gold chain attached to a locket. A jeweled bracelet adorned each wrist, but her fingers were undecorated.
The sunlight filtering into the room from its only window favored her above the others, burnishing her pale skin in its glow.
She was smiling at him, and he could not look away. The girl next to her whispered something in her ear and Sarah’s blue eyes shimmered slightly, just enough to draw him to them. In this brief space of time, when a dream became real and the earth ceased its spin, he knew Chick was correct. This was a world of magic.
“You can stop grinning now,” Chick said, as she turned away to face the sink.
Alex assumed more introductions awaited him, but he was not ready to leave the kitchen yet.
“She’s a moonchild you know,” Chick said.
He watched her hair move about her shoulders as she prepared fruit for the evening’s meal. “A moonchild?”
“Sarah was born when the moon crossed the sun. She entered this world during a solar eclipse.”
A moonchild, he thought as he watched Sarah laboring over the sink. At that moment, he would have believed Chick if he was told she was parented by the Gods of ancientGreece.
Someone said something to Sarah and she laughed. It was a beautiful sound. He knew then, in that moment, he had found a place where beauty truly existed. A place where a child of the moon danced on a summer hill in a sun washed breeze. A place where the laughter of a girl dressed in white and a windswept song not only shared the same moment, but also had the exact same sound.
