Michaela was gone.

Anna collected her shoulderbag, stood, and got off the train, all in a daze. She walked through the empty train station. On the other side, she crossed to the post office, beyond which stood Old King, the scarecrow, only witness to her arrival. She looked at the domed, blue mailbox and thought about what Michaela had said, that she was lucky. Lucky to have Violet. To have Violet’s last name.

She sat on the bench outside the post office, setting her shoulderbag beside her. She withdrew a postcard from the package Violet had given her, and an amethyst bright pen. It was early still. Too early for most of Glenwood to be awake. Too early for most shops to be open. Too early for the train’s usual stop in Glenwood. But she could smell brewing coffee and baking bread. Her stomach rumbled.

Violet,

I hope your summer is going well. It’s quiet here. I like it.

But I wish you were here with me. I know you have to work and that you like your job, but I miss you. I don’t want you to feel bad. You’ve done so much for me and though I didn’t know it at the time, sending me here was the right decision, so thank you.

You’ll be happy to know

I’ve made a friend

Michaela Madigan

She’s not always there though

She might be a time traveler

A ghost from sixty years ago

Or maybe I am,

But I’ve grown fond of her

She fills the hole within my aching chest

It was a far cry from iambic pentameter, but Anna addressed the card and dropped it in the mailbox before she could change her mind.

The walk down Clayfield Street was quiet. The morning was cool. When she crested the hill to Kenny and Sarah’s house, Kenny was waiting for her at the door. He smiled.

“Hey there, kiddo. You had us worried.”

Anna stopped and looked at her feet. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to explain why and where she’d been for the last several days.

“Sarah’s on the phone with Violet. I was just about to scramble some eggs. You want to come in?”

Anna nodded and Kenny opened the door for her. Inside, Sarah was on the phone. It was an old style of phone, a big lemon yellow box mounted on the wall by the couch in the living room. It had a circular dial and a handle with a speaker on one end, a microphone on the other, and a coiled cord attaching it to the box. Anna had seen them in old movies.

“Here she is,” Sarah said. She smiled at Anna and held the phone handle out to her.

Anna took it. “Hello?”

“Anna? They said you were out all night. Are you all right? Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

Anna’s knees went weak with relief. She’d only been gone all night. She tried to speak, but all she could manage was a shaky breath.

“Anna? Are you there?”

Anna coughed and cleared her throat. “I’m fine. I just… I lost track of time.”

“All night?”

Anna nodded. “I didn’t mean to. I was just… thinking.”

“Oh.”

Anna thought she could hear Violet crying on the other end of the line. She cleared her throat. “I put a postcard in the mail this morning,” Anna said. “I should have written you sooner, but I’ve been getting used to things. I wanted to tell you… to thank you for sending me here for the summer. It’s been helpful.”

“Oh,” Violet said again. “I see. Well… please Anna, please don’t do something like that again. I’ve been worried all night.”

Anna wanted to promise, to assure Violet, but what if the fog came in and that other world grabbed hold of her again? She’d had no control of how long she’d been held at Castle PAC. She was lucky she’d only been gone a night and not nearly a week.

“I’ll be careful,” Anna said.

Violet cleared her throat. “I have to get ready for work. Are you going to be all right? Should I come out there?”

“I… No. I’d be happy to see you. But you don’t need to come out.”

Violet was quiet for a while. Anna wondered if she’d hung up.

“Okay. I’m glad you’re all right. Will you call me this evening?”

Anna nodded. “Sure.”

“Okay. Have a good day, Anna.”

“You too.”

Anna hung the phone handle on its box and turned to find Kenny and Sarah puttering about the kitchen. She could smell cooking eggs and frying bacon and steeping tea.

“I’m sorry,” she said, forcing the words past the fear weighing her tongue. “I was writing mom a postcard.” Anna caught herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d called Violet her mom. “I really didn’t mean to be out all night and I never want to do anything to worry you.”

Kenny kept his eyes on the tomatoes he was cutting. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. It’s not like you can get into any trouble in Glenwood after nine o’clock. Unless you run into ghosts. Did you see any ghosts?”

Anna thought of Michaela. “Maybe.”

Kenny looked up and winked at her.

Sarah came around the counter to the living room and grabbed Anna in a big hug. Anna did not let herself cringe. Sarah’s hug was tight and enveloping and it was the least she deserved for worrying them. “Oh, sweetie, we’re not mad at you. We just need to know you’re not hurt. Just, let us know if you’re going to be out late, all right?”

Anna nodded into Sarah’s embrace.

Breakfast was thoroughly plentiful. Kenny talked about how he was nearly finished with the cabinets the Goldman’s had commissioned. Sarah talked about how the tomato plants were growing heavy and it was time to start canning. Anna didn’t talk about anything. She let their conversation flow over her like a gently familiar rain. When breakfast was done, Anna insisted on cleaning up while Sarah and Kenny went about their mornings. It felt not unlike working in the kitchen at Castle PAC and more than once she found herself looking around for Michaela.

She bit her tongue on a sigh. It was too obvious, too morose, too much like what she’d been sent here to escape. “It’s all right,” she said aloud to the quiet kitchen. “The fog will come in again. The magic will work.”

But what if…

“No.”

But what if she really is a ghost? Or from a parallel dimension? Or what if you just made her up? What if none of this is real?

She shook her head to dislodge the thoughts that would not stop.

What if you broke the magic by talking about it? What if Yaga locks her away forever? What if the fog rolls in on her side and not yours and the Witch of Puppets gets her hands on her? What then?

Anna set the last plate on the drying rack, hurried from the kitchen, and out the back door. There, she found Kenny, five wooden cabinets set upon sawhorses. A metal can stood open upon a nearby workbench. He dipped a sponge into the can and carefully applied the stain.

“Care to help out an old man?

“I’ve never done it before,” said Anna.

“It’s not hard,” he said. “And it’s easy to fix your mistakes. Come on, let me show you.” He handed her a new yellow sponge and demonstrated, dipping his in the can of stain and applying it along the length of the cabinet in long, sure strokes. “The biggest thing to look out for is not letting any of it pool, or the stain will dry unevenly. Unless, of course, that’s the effect you’re going for, but in this case we’re aiming for traditional.”

The stain had a thick, deep scent that matched its dark color. The sure, meticulous nature of it soothed her thoughts. When they were done, they washed up in the little bathroom just off the back door.

“They’ll take some time to dry,” Kenny said. “But if you’re looking for more to do, Sarah’s in the garden.”

The garden was on the front side of the house, where Anna found Sarah sitting on a stool, picking tomatoes.

“Pull up a stool,” Sarah invited.

Anna picked up a short, three-legged stool and made her way between plants so she could sit next to Sarah.

“A steady grip, but not firm, is best,” Sarah said. “At least, that’s always worked for me. If you give it a small twist, that helps break it from the vine.”

Anna didn’t know how long she spent methodically picking tomatoes. She didn’t know how long she’d spent staining cabinets with Kenny. But by the time they carried several baskets of tomatoes into the kitchen, it was noon and she was hungry.

“That was nice,” Anna said. “It distracted me from…” A part of her wanted to tell them about the fog, the other Glenwood, and Michaela, but there was no way they’d believe her. “Things.”

Sarah nodded. “Sometimes it’s the silence between moments that’s most important. If you’re always on task, it can be difficult to make any meaningful progress. You cannot always be focused on the conflict or you’ll lose sight of why it mattered to begin with. Staining cabinets or picking tomatoes or going for a long meander all night, it helps declutter thoughts.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Lunch was fresh tomatoes, soft cheese, and generous cuts of summer sausage. Kenny brought in a large glass jar he assured them wasn’t wood stain, but tea he’d been brewing in the sun all morning. They passed a quiet lunch and Anna felt herself growing sleepy. She remembered her morning had started several hours before she’d arrived at Kenny and Sarah’s front door.

“I think I’m going to take a nap,” Anna said.

With the balcony door open wide and the bedroom door open a crack, a bit of summer breeze zephyred through the room. Anna took a quick shower to sluice off the sweat, then lay in bed on her back. Between the work calming her thoughts and the food filling her belly and the water cooling on her skin, she drifted to sleep.

When she woke, she immediately felt for Michaela at her left before remembering she was no longer at Castle PAC. Tears leapt at her eyes, but she took a breath and stifled them, trying to remember what Sarah had said about the silence between moments. She felt the familiar ache that heralded the hole in her chest. She crept down to the kitchen where the oven told her was eleven-thirty. She poured herself a drink of water and tried to talk herself out of despair.

“Tomorrow morning you’ll ask them about internet access. You will find Michaela Madigan in a suburb called Glenwood. How many could there be?”

But when morning came and she asked over breakfast, Sarah made a disgruntled sound.

“There’s roadwork down valley, and someone hit the fiber optic line. Or something like that. Internet is down valley wide. They’re working to restore it, but for now internet access in the valley is spotty at best.”

“I wasn’t able to get my owls up on the pinpage,” Kenny said. “Cell towers still work, you can call and text, but trying to access a web app is so slow it’s barely worth it. It’s almost as bad as dialup.”

“I didn’t bring my phone,” Anna said. “I was trying to disconnect for a while, but there’s some research I want to do.”

“The library’s got plenty of computers,” Sarah said. “But they’ve said it’ll be late summer at the earliest before we have regular internet access again.”

Anna made her way to the library that morning and though she was immediately afforded use of a computer, Kenny and Sarah hadn’t exaggerated the difficulty of using the internet. Pages were slow if they loaded at all and regular social media platforms were missing many of their functions. And that’s when access didn’t shut off all together. Anna made due the best she could. She found several people named Michaela Madigan, but none were the one she was looking for. She wondered if Michaela had an online presence. Was she allowed a social media account? Was she allowed on the internet? Did she even know what the internet was?

Anna realized they should have exchanged detailed information, and the next time the internet went down, she gave up her computer and took out a notebook and pen, writing down her full name: Vivianna Lawrence; her foster parents’ names: Violet Ayn and Arthur Kent Lawrence. She wrote down her birthday and her parents’ birthdays. She wrote down the date Arthur had died. She explained she had no information on her birth parents. She wrote down her address and cell number, Kenny and Sarah’s address. She didn’t know Kenny and Sarah’s phone numbers but resolved to ask. She wrote down everything she could think of to help Michaela find her in this world.

• • •

When she had nothing to do, the hole in her chest threatened to return, so she helped Kenny pick out handles for the cabinets and accompanied him to the lumber yard. She learned the basics of canning from Sarah and helped choose fabric for a new quilt. She spent as much time as she could in the library trying to find a hint of the Michaela she knew. But when she had nothing to occupy her, she could think of nothing but Michaela and her chest would clench.

• • •

“Are we expecting guests?” Kenny asked.

They were all at lunch after a long morning in the garden. Vegetables had been chopped and stewed and pickled and canned and there was plenty more yet to do.

Sarah shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of, but there’s always room for more.” Her smile as gentle as her chuckle, she made for the front door. A few minutes later, “Anna, it’s for you.”

Perplexed, Anna went to the front door to find Frank with a shy smile and a hopeful look. “Hey, Anna. I wanted to invite you down to the hot springs.”

Anna knew her expression must be plainly shocked. She hadn’t been invited to anything for several years and she knew Frank thought she was odd.

“You see, it’s my birthday today and one of the benefits of a summer birthday is I always get the day off, and the hot springs are great any time of year. We’re all getting together in half an hour or so, do you want to come?”

“Sure,” said Anna, before she could think better of it. She’d brought a bathing suit in anticipation of the hot springs, she just hadn’t expected to be invited.

“Great,” said Frank. “We can walk down together.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” Anna said and cringed at her own bluntness.

“Oh, that’s fine,” Frank said. “Just you coming will be nice.”

Anna felt certain that wasn’t true and she gave Frank a skeptical look. He blushed and looked away.

“Why don’t you come in and wait,” Anna said. “I’ll go get my things.”

She walked back to the kitchen and felt Frank follow her.

“Do you guys care if I go to the hot springs?” Anna asked, gesturing at Frank who waved awkwardly.

“That’s fine,” said Sarah, “Just let us know if you’re going to be out late.”

Anna hurried upstairs, put on her swimsuit, and put on a t-shirt and shorts over it. She borrowed a couple of towels from the bathroom, slipped on her borrowed shoes and went back downstairs.

Anna wasn’t terribly interested in birthday parties or parties in general, but it was nice to be invited and it might provide a good distraction. Frank and Anna walked down the hill together into Glenwood. Anna wasn’t especially good at small talk, but Frank talked enough for the both of them. He talked about everybody who would be there: Bertie and Olivia and Charlotte and so on, and how great the hot springs were, he talked about how he and Bertie were supposed to be the class presidents for eighth grade next year, that there’d been an election and everything, but he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted the job. Already there’d been three separate school activities during summer break he’d been expected to attend. He talked about a new mountain bike he was excited to try out on the trails. And a camping trip he was planning. And how his batting average this summer was way better than last summer.

Anna didn’t deliberately ignore his chatter, but she only came in and out of the thread.

They crossed the Okagawa River onto Clayfield Street proper, down a couple of blocks, then took a right toward the river. There was a large hotel before the pool. The woman at the front desk waved them in.

“Hiya Frankie. Your guests are starting to arrive. I thought you were going to miss your own party.”

Frank laughed easily. “Just wanted to invite the new girl. I don’t have her number yet.”

“Wouldn’t do you any good,” said Anna. “I left my phone at home.”

To the right of the main lobby of the hotel was a bar and grill open for lunch. To the left was the hot springs entry and a sign pointing to the locker rooms. Frank escorted her to the front desk where the woman stamped the back of her hand.

“If you need extra towels, there’s clean ones on the carts near the locker rooms. You guys are set for the day. Have fun, kids.”

“See you on the other side, Anna.” Frank hurried off to the men’s locker room.

Anna decided it was easier to keep her clothes with her as she had her swimsuit on underneath, so she bypassed the locker room and went straight out to the pool. The space beyond the Glenwood Hotel was expansive. A map showed the all-ages swimming pool, complete with water slide, to the right. The heated pool for soaking was right in front of her. To the left was a set of small, secluded pools at temperatures in the high nineties. The sign specifically asked for no unaccompanied minors and low voices.

Anna was tempted to go to the left. The idea of soaking in hot water, even on such a summer day, sounded wonderful and should be good for her asthma. Though she hadn’t had an attack, she realized, since coming to Glenwood. She wondered why. The altitude perhaps? The lack of pollution? But she’d come at Frank’s invitation, so she decided to wait for him.

At the bottom of the map was a bronze plaque declaring, in worn letters: In Loving Memory of Oscar Clayfield.

Anna paused. It was the wrong last name, but it was the first prominent use of the name Oscar she’d seen since hearing of Oscar Agayaba’s disappearance on the other side of the fog.

“Certainly there’s no connection,” she muttered.

“Anna?” Bertie sounded surprised and Anna turned to face her. “I didn’t know you’d be here.

“Frank invited me,” Anna said and immediately regretted it. Bertie pursed her lips angrily. “Look, Bertie, you should know, I’m not interested in Frank. I mean, not like that anyway. I’m sure he’s very nice, but…” she thought of Michaela and cleared her throat. “I’m just here for the summer. I’m not interested in getting between whatever the two of you…”

Bertie blushed. “We don’t have anything going on. He’s not my boyfriend, Anna.”

“Oh.” Anna had been certain that was why Bertie gave her a dirty look whenever Frank came up. “I… My mistake. Sorry.”

“Anyway, I’m glad Frank invited you. You’re the most interesting person to come to town in a long time.”

Anna didn’t know what to make of that. She looked away and her eyes lit upon the plaque. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Bertie shrugged.

“You’re supposed to be president of Glenwood Middle School next year. I don’t suppose that means you know a lot about local history?”

Bertie smiled. “As a matter of fact I do. What do you want to know?”

Anna pointed at the plaque. “Who’s Oscar Clayfield?”

Bertie’s expression turned serious. “He went missing when he was only 9 years old. This was around sixty, maybe sixty-five years ago.”

“And he was descended from that guy who founded the town?”

Bertie nodded. “Ali Clayfield’s great great grandson. His mother, Catherine Sabina Clayfield was a prominent city council member and owned the hot springs here. She was always feuding with one of her second cousins, Aileen Clayfield. Aileen owned a bunch of vineyards down valley. Each of them thought they had a right to the other’s land. The Old King has a lot of family still in the region and for a while there were fights about who in the family had rights to which of his properties.”

“Huh, like when the real-life kings of ancient times died and hereditary rule was disputed,” Anna said.

“Precisely. These days, the municipality of Glenwood has bought most of it and considered the land once owned by Clayfield to be the trust of the people. Public land is for the public and all that.”

Anna nodded. It was interesting, but didn’t help with the dilemma on the other side of the fog.

“Still, it’s a shame about Catherine Clayfield,” Bertie said.

“Why’s that?”

Bertie blushed. “Oh, you don’t want to hear about small town history. This stuff is boring to anybody but me.”

“I really do,” said Anna. “I find this kind of thing fascinating.”

“Oh. Well, all right then. Catherine had two sons. Ivan and Oscar. Ivan was born out of wedlock and Catherine never told anybody who his father was. Then she married and went from being a Westcote to a Clayfield. Thing is, the Westcotes and Clayfields are related. Catherine and James were second cousins. Which is probably the only reason she never became mayor of Glenwood. But all the research I’ve done says she was a phenomenal council member, good with keeping the town on budget.”

“What happened to Oscar?”

Bertie shrugged. “No one knows. Some assume he fell in the river or got lost out in the woods. Some think Aileen Clayfield had something to do with it, since they were always feuding. Catherine certainly believed so. And when Aileen got herself elected to the council, that was the beginning of the end for Catherine. There were a lot of public shouting matches and three fistfights according to police record. Then Catherine just disappeared from public life.”

“What was her middle name again?” Anna asked.

“Sabina. Why?”

“It’s just interesting. What about Aileen? Did she have an interesting middle name?”

“Yeah. It was Yulanna. Her mother’s name I think. Another interesting tidbit about the two of them, they were born on the same day: ninth day of the first month in 1919. Twins after a fashion.”

“Hey, you guys, come on.” Frank shouted from the pool.

Bertie smiled at Frank. “Let me know if you have any more questions. I’m always happy to talk about the history of Glenwood. I plan to be mayor one day.”

That made Anna smile. “Cool.”

Anna found an out of the way pool chair. She took off her shirt, shorts, and shoes, folding the clothes and setting them neatly upon her towels, and tucked her shoes underneath. She’d gotten used to changing in front of Michaela, but she blushed to undress at the poolside, even though she had her swimsuit on underneath. She tried to swallow her embarrassment, pretend it wasn’t there, and went to the pool. Her black one-piece with its high neck and low hips was modest compared to the colorful swimwear of her peers.

The invitees to Frank’s birthday ranged in age. Anna wondered if being such a small town meant everyone was invited or maybe just everyone showed up. Or perhaps that was the result of a birthday party at a pool in the summer.

She kept close to the edges, not wanting to get involved in the raucous games. Frank and his buddies seemed fond of dunking each other, wrestling about, and splashing like children. After a while, when no one was paying attention to her, she moved from the swimming pool to the heated pool, where voices were lower and no one was splashing. People sat quietly. Steam rose off the water surface. Anna found a bench along the wall and sat, the water coming up to her chin.

She wondered about the peculiar parallels of Glenwood’s history on this side of the fog to that side. Catherine and Aileen Clayfield, cousins born on the same day. It wasn’t the same as a pair of feuding sister witches, but it was close. The middle names of Catherine and Aileen as the first names of the Agayaba sisters, was too similar to ignore. Did Oscar Clayfield’s disappearance on this side of the fog sixty-some years ago give her any insight into the disappearance of Oscar Agayaba on the other side?

Perhaps it was as Ivan had put it. They were different books on the same shelf. Parallel stories perhaps. Anna roused from her reverie as someone sat next to her. It was Frank.

“You all right?” he asked.

Anna nodded.

“It’s just, you’re not hanging out with the rest of us.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just… shy. And quiet. I don’t really fit in with exuberant crowds.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you invited me and I’m glad to be here. I just… I’ll enjoy the party from a safe distance.”

“Safe?” His expression turned confused, like a puppy certain there was a tennis ball a moment ago.

Anna smiled. “I’m teasing. I just mean I hope you’ll be patient with my shyness.”

He shrugged. “Sure. But don’t be too shy or you’ll miss out on pizza and cake.”

Anna’s stomach burbled. “Don’t want to miss out on pizza and cake.”

“Okay. Thanks for coming.”

About ten minutes later, Frank made an all call and most of the young people at the Glenwood hot springs converged on a pavilion at the far end of the grounds where stood two stacks of pizza boxes, a varicolored multitude of liters of sodas, and no fewer than three birthday cakes. A pair of adults Anna assumed to be Frank’s parents, herded them into a couple lines. Anna got herself two slices of pizza, a cup of orange soda, and a bit of cake. She stood toward the back as Frank was serenaded in the traditional songs and watched him open a few presents.

With everyone focused on Frank, Anna collected her clothes, got dressed, and slipped away. It was approaching evening, she realized as she walked down Clayfield Street toward the bridge over the Okagawa, and she hadn’t once felt the ache in her chest. She hadn’t missed Michaela.