Priya Echo's Adventure - Part 13

CHAPTER 45 - SNOW’S CAFE

“This must be it,” the first woman said to the other two, as they looked at the skinny, neglected space between the lumbering office buildings. Besides the glass, which had sparsely cracked at all over the years, the remainder of the building was weathered and grayish white. A lonesome storefront sign in spaced letters across the top spelled “December’s Delicious Cafe”. From the south a paltry wind blew, causing the door to creak in its frame. “Not much to look at, isn’t it?” the friend on the left said. Made ever so hesitant by the worrying, almost premeditated lack of character behind the glass the other friend took a step back. It was an empty space without merit. But the woman only stood sentinel, feeling the smooth caress of wind in its feeble senility, and then pressed forward, saying “That’s our invitation I guess”. Beckoned, the friends followed. Once inside, she began to rub her temples, and look around. The patron was speechless as she paced about the room in sporadic motions. “Patroness, are you alright?” April Frosting asked of Snow. “Calm down, we need to find whatever is here” Alluring Philosophy reassured her. “Exactly! Exactly! That table was here … and that chair was there … and that picture was there!” she declared pointing at vacant spots all around the room. In flashes her counterpart's life began to return. “Little does it matter where we came from, even in our past lives” Alluring Philosophy interrupted, trying to cure the woman’s distress. “I was over there, behind the counter, minding my shop, watching people come and leave,” Snow answered, gliding over to where the partition for the kitchen was. Both of the friends sighed with lack of enthusiasm as they watched her stand behind the counter, as if to offer them a snack. Then they noticed that she was not looking at them, but beyond, glaring out the window with a blank expression. April Frosting waved her hand to get Snow’s attention … and break her from her reverie. “What did you see?” the metacoma questioned, seeing how the shop-owner had a hand over her mouth, as if to subdue what was trying to escape. “This was my cafe. Now I remember the minute it happened. I was standing here and cutting an onion for a sandwich. The shop was empty, as it was early morning. Looking up, I peered out the window, out there. At first there was nothing, but then one at a time the snowflakes came. Before long, winter danced outside the glass. It came, unspeakable sheets of white. In awe of the beauty, I cried, and tears streamed down my face. It may have been from the onion, or from what I saw, or both. And I may have fallen asleep for a minute. That was when I split, and below, when Echo saw Sam as Dazin, I was brought into being” Snow recognized. “Interesting,” Alluring Philosophy remarked, dispassionate like a proper sleuth, “who did you sell it to?”, in reference to the sandwich. Kneeling down, clearing away cobwebs to a locked cabinet, she unsealed a metal box, “I kept all my receipts down here”. Thumbing through the receipts by date, she finally came to the right article. “Eugene Traveler” the signature on the receipt indicated. “I know this one, he is within the portion” she said, and rushed out of the shop. They continued through downtown Vancouver. As they did, April became more concerned with the ambiguous weather. For when the temperature is just so, it cannot be felt at all, and it is as if … nature is absent. Sensation ceases and curiosity remains. “The patron’s mood will liven when we find what we are looking for” she reassured herself. Traveler could be found in the commercial district, tending to a trade fair booth for civil pharmaceutical telecommunication. Nearby, rattle cuttlefish had found their way in through a window. They had at the ends of their tentacle's chimes like that of a rattlesnake which, when vibrated, resonated like a windchime incessantly. A security guard was dispatched to shoo the strays away. “Mr. Eugene, would you be able to answer a few questions?” Snow asked. “I would be happy to answer any questions you have about our products. Ever since the architect pharmacist Bates Origami founded our company, we have had the goal of serving the public with the highest quality” Traveler answered, thinking he could capture their interest. “I’m not here for a sale. What I am looking for is more specific, and personal” the patron replied, then took the receipt out of her pocket, handing it over to him. “You want to know about a sandwich I bought more than ten years ago?” Traveler, raising an eyebrow, replied ... not quite sensing the deviation in time. “I know it’s a lot to ask” the woman admitted. “This place hasn’t even been open since the old days. It’s in the forgotten part of town” he recalled, passing his eyes over the small type with care, a glint in his eye. “We are conservators paid for by the committee. Any history of the old city, we would definitely like to be acquainted with, if it could be preserved” fabricated the detective, hoping for more. “But this was just a quaint little shop” Eugene countered, taken somewhat aback by the rare request. “After a complete record is made, locations important for Vancouver’s cultural history will be selected. This is important as a step in our process” Snow elaborated and saw that she had finally won his trust. “I see. December’s Delicious Cafe… yes, I can almost picture it now ...lunched there from time to time. They had sandwiches and charming cups of lemon tea. That was before the phenomenon, before lemon tea was augmented by crystals and interpretive dance. My favorite was the swiss. I would have a slice of banana bread on the side. Kind and inviting, filled with light gossip. The owner was pleasant and ran the place herself. Now that I think of it … that was the one place everyone always looked forward to going. You're making me nostalgic for the old days'' Eugene divulged to the guests. As the words entered her, she shivered subtly with nervousness, preparing to ask the next question, “Can you tell us about the sandwich?”. Traveler rubbed his chin, thinking, “Lucky for you, that was a day I could never forget. I was on my way back to work when the bag was stolen by some runaway scamps. Never got a good look at them ... even so, that was so long ago”. As he extended an arm to return the receipt, she placed her hand on his wrist saying, “Thank you for your assistance, friend. Keep this, it’s a piece of the past”, and walked away with the other two. Back at the shop, April formed a table and chairs from cake frosting for them to rest. “Well, at least we know it went to good use” Alluring Philosophy remarked, in order to cheer up the rest. “Should we continue to look for clues?” April wondered aloud. Snow looked at them both, “I wouldn’t think so. Duchesses, since our harmony is strong, I will relate to you what is now becoming clear. If you will recall, I came into being the moment that Echo saw Dazin at that party. Likewise, I witnessed the snow with tears streaming down my face as I cut the onion. I was in awe. Just as I am a personification of awe at first sight, I am love at first sight, an entity called forth by that experience of Echo. For this reason ... my identity has been contingent upon their continued bond. Had history found a different course, separating the two, I would not have survived, but faded away, dissolving like a snowflake upon the tongue, just as a dream”. “Fascinating!” April exclaimed as Alluring Philosophy gasped from the swift surprise. “Perhaps I was being naïve when I shouted at mother before. Now that I am face to face with a similar dilemma, I feel her struggle” Snow thought to herself. “However, I was broken from this requirement recently by a spell. The dream reflection. At the time I did not recognize the consequences. Now I … we … are free to claim our own identity. But I am at a loss as to what path I may wish for. Where there was purpose … now there is possibility. Duchess … I feel so afraid” the patron confided. Overwhelmed, they all embraced each other. Separating, she led them out of the shop and towards the street, listening to the clack off the door as it closed behind. Yet before the return, the woman turned again to examine the shop. “A runaway scamp you say …'' she whispered to herself. They went back into the interior, walking through the back kitchen until the door to the cellar revealed itself. “Let’s go this way and see if it leads somewhere” Snow proposed, gratified by her friend’s fortitude and the new lead. Below, in the musty cellar, there was a chasm in the wall that led for a mile underneath the city, to a society of subterranean misfits. Tattered red and white flags, some of them strips, hung from the ceiling of a communal gathering where bartering tradesmen of the underworld thronged. “A proper freshening of the portion is in order” April began. Alluring smiled back at the humor. Then, powerful waves of drowsiness overtook both of the duchesses, and they fainted onto the dirty ground. Snow felt it, but shook it off, kneeling down to place a hand upon April’s shoulder to rouse her ... but then realized, in a true awakening of horror, what had occurred. “Etab'' she thought, realizing the enterprise of the empress and the dark patron had been successful in sending lucidity across space and time. Then this would be a natural backlash, like a shockwave passing through the fiefdom. The metacoma, most of them would be plunged deeper into that precious state and be unable to aid them in a battle that was on the horizon. They would be defenseless. Rambling up to them from the crowd, an old black-bearded vagrant in a thick hood noticed the disturbance. “My April … and Maude, '' he stuttered. The expression on his face gave it away. “Then the scamps were these two” the patron surmised as she rose to talk to him, “They fainted when they saw you. It was too much for them … after all these years. They will be like this for a good time, maybe weeks if not years. Will you look after them? I have a spell so they do not hunger”. With tears making paths upon his face, clean lines, the ragged man embraced her, and lifted up one of them while Snow lifted the other to where he had his quarters behind a shower curtain and placed them down upon a bed. When it was done, the cafe owner returned back through the tunnel to the cellar, up the staircase and out into the still air of Vancouver. Snow looked down at her hand, realizing that she had perhaps dropped the ring somewhere in the dark. “I didn’t lose it. I feel … interesting” she realized. For the solid ring had become mirror light that entered her and became blood. Whispers melded as an alloy. Somewhat unburdened by the new angst that had presented itself so suddenly, the woman smiled with fierce courage and continued back towards the heart of the portion.

Chapter end