Chapter 11
The Gap
Preparing for the trip was a blur.
Each day, I woke up on Lisa’s couch and went into the depths of the garden to find the peacocks roaming around.
They had completely changed their attitude and no longer accosted me.
It may have been because I’d hidden the Firebird’s feather in the cushions of Lisa’s couch and now appeared like a perfectly normal person to them.
Then I met Harry by the stables.
After feeding him, I ate myself, and the two of us went for a flight.
Though at first we called our rides “practicing,” the two of us soon realized we enjoyed the thrill of lifting off into the air.
We explored the surrounding terrain, went swimming in a lake we’d found nearby, and then I rummaged in the forest.
Lisa taught yoga classes, mostly to the same group of women I’d seen on my first day at the resort.
After some time, I started telling some of them apart, though they looked very similar.
They smiled the same toothy smiles, wore nearly identical outfits, and had hair pulled back in something Lisa called a ponytail.
During her yoga classes, Lisa reminded them to breathe and then made them do slow and deliberate movements, which were called asanas.
These asanas didn’t look like much, but the women seemed to enjoy them.
After each class, Lisa’s yoga students would surround her and chat, mostly complaining about their husbands.
As they did this, they would tell Lisa how lucky she was to be divorced and how wonderful it was to be free of the useless men, who were “good for nothing.” They would glance at me, but, as I mostly busied myself with sweeping or wiping off dust and didn’t respond to them, the women ignored me and acted as if I were invisible.
That suited me just fine. There was too much to do, and I wanted to help Lisa.
Lisa had given me the magical device, the one she’d called an iPhone 11, and I learned how to use it.
We even practiced speaking to each other, and she showed me how to call her to tell her what I was doing and where I was.
It took several tries, but after a few attempts, I’d even learned to answer Lisa’s calls, and we established contact.
A few times, I tried calling her from the garden while she was doing yoga, but she explained to me that she was busy and that my calls were a distraction and that I should only call her if it was a true emergency.
With practice, I’d gotten used to taking the iPhone with me during my rides with Harry.
Lisa and I spent every evening together, drinking tea.
After I’d told her how I’d made tea for my brothers and Papa ever since I was little, getting the coals going first to heat up the samovar, boiling the water, and then setting the teapot with the tea leaves on top, she told me tea could be made very quickly.
“A samovar? You won’t need that. I’ve got a kettle right here.
Let me show you and you can make it the next time.
” Lisa poured water, clicked something, and I watched, in awe, as the kettle hissed and the water went to a rolling boil in mere minutes.
“These are the tea bags—they already have tea leaves inside them.” She showed me a box and took one out.
She then put a tea bag into a mug and poured boiling water over it.
As Lisa handed me the mug, I watched as the clear liquid turned a dark shade of brown in mere seconds.
“I’ll make it for you tomorrow,” I noted as I observed her.
“You know what? Why don’t you also help me make tea during yoga? I’ve always wanted to serve it to my students after class.” Her face looked beautiful in the soft glow of the kitchen light.
“Sure thing,” I said, already picturing myself holding a tray with the cups.
“But I wonder—it sounds kind of dangerous, a little boy boiling water in a samovar,” Lisa said. “Your brothers, they’re older, right? Did they offer to help you?”
“No, never. Peter and Ilya were very busy. They had a lot going on. Doing things around the house didn’t really suit them.”
“I see. And your father?”
“Papa? Oh, no. But Papa sometimes thanked me with a smile. If he didn’t smile, I knew he was in a bad mood and it was better to stay out of his way.”
As I said this, something shifted in Lisa’s expression. It wasn’t pity, but recognition.
“You know, I did that, too,” she said as she placed another tea bag into her own mug, pouring water over it. “I used to watch Quinn’s face in the morning and try to guess if he was in a good mood. Try to figure out what version of him I was going to get that day.”
Lisa spoke lightly, as if she’d made peace with this, but her hands tightened on the mug a fraction.
“That sounds tiring,” I said. I knew the feeling well.
“It was, for sure. It was such a relief after we got divorced to not have to deal with that any longer.”
“So it was a good thing, right? Your divorce?”
Lisa set her mug down. She looked at me for a long moment with an expression I couldn’t read.
“You think so?” she asked.
“Me? You know, people never ask me for my opinion. I think it’s because of the nickname.”
I hadn’t meant to say the last part. I’d avoided mentioning the embarrassing nickname to Lisa and assumed—hoped—Lisa had forgotten about it. But it had slipped out on its own. I expected her to laugh or to ignore it, but Lisa just nodded slowly and looked into her tea.
“You’re not a dimwit at all. I hope you know that. Sometimes we start believing the hurtful things people tell us about ourselves. But what’s important is to shed that and move on past it.”
I didn’t respond. Outside, the Fernwood Resort grounds were dark and quiet. The kettle hummed. Lisa went very still. We sat like this for a while longer. There was no need to say anything else. And though we didn’t speak, I noticed Lisa had stopped tightening her hands on the mug.
* * *
Preparations for the trip were progressing well. The only thing remaining was to pack our provisions for the trip and to estimate exactly how long it would take Harry and me to fly over to the Seminole Mill Bed-and-Breakfast.
Here, I must mention something that had occurred over those ten days that was like a dark cloud looming on the horizon: Harry’s growing dislike of Lisa.
I couldn’t pinpoint the exact time the rift had started.
It may have been there from the very beginning.
I’d hoped it would go away, but the opposite happened.
Harry’s distaste grew stronger and stronger.
It had gotten to a point that the pony would openly scowl at my hostess and would pointedly turn away if Lisa approached him and started a conversation.
Which brings me to the morning two days before Harry and I were to set out on the quest. Just like the days prior, I went to pick up the pony near the stables, and we flew over the fields together.
I confronted Harry, just as we’d landed on the edge of a lovely forest.
“Harry, don’t you think you could be more polite to Lisa?” I said, eyeing the pretty field flowers. I picked one forget-me-not, then another, placing them together. The pretty blue of the flowers reminded me of Lisa’s eyes.
“No, I’m protecting you, don’t you see?” Harry glared. “I’m the only thing standing between you and disaster.”
“How so?” I picked a few more flowers and, satisfied with the bouquet, placed it in my pocket.
“You’re falling for this woman, and she’s treacherous and mean.” Harry nuzzled into me.
“Harry, what are you even saying? Lisa is the sweetest thing. She’ll help me get the Firebird as soon as we bring her that document.
And the egg with the magical ring.” I petted his head absent-mindedly, realizing too late he’d reached into my pocket and was chewing on the bouquet of forget-me-nots I’d put together for Lisa.
“Harry!” I yelped. “Did you just eat my bouquet?”
“Your bouquet? Oh, sorry, I thought you’d collected it for me.” Harry smirked, licking his lips. “I love those little flowers. They taste so sweet.”
“This was supposed to be for Lisa,” I sighed. “Did you do that on purpose, Harry?”
“Of course not.” Harry shook his head in protest. “But about Lisa—I can just tell she’s lying. And since you’re not from around here, you can’t read people.”