Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Yes, to all the questions,” Hanna says, sitting on the couch. I sit beside her, but there’s not much room, so she’s practically in my lap. That’s fine with me. I put my arm around her, feeling like one of the old movies I liked to watch all the time, where a man was on a date with a woman and she brought him home to meet her family. It’s strange to be living that kind of life, one so unlike my own, even if just for a minute. It’s so disarming and surreal to feel and act like a mere mortal, a normal person.
There’s some kind of beauty in the simplicity of it all, and none of these humans realize it.
“So,” Torben says, bringing over a tray with two cups of steaming tea and a couple of flat, long biscuits. He sits down in the chair across from us, a bunch of books falling to the side and scattering to the floor. He waves at it, as if the books will clean themselves up later.
Then again, he is a Shaman. I’ve never seen a Shaman in his real habitat before. Perhaps I’m not so far from the truth.
“So,” Hanna says, reaching for a biscuit. She doesn’t eat it, just twists it around between her fingers. She’s nervous. She has no idea where to start or what to say. She’s going to try and wing it again.
I clear my throat. “I’m sure you’re very surprised to see that your daughter is alive and well, but rest assured, she’s been in good hands this entire time.”
He blinks at me rapidly and then looks to Hanna. “Can I ask where you’ve been? Can I ask why you haven’t told anyone? Hanna, dear, everyone thought you were dead. They also thought I was dead. Everyone said I had a funeral, that I had died, but that wasn’t true. That never happened.”
“What did happen?” Hanna asks, turning the questions to him already.
“Nothing,” he says with a display of his hands. “I never heard about a funeral. You apparently came to visit me at the resort up north, but there was no record of you. I never saw you, I know that much.”
“Was there…” she begins, weighing her words. “Was there someone else at the resort who perhaps might have lied about all of that?”
He blows his lips together. “They might have.”
“Who is they?”
“Eero and Noora worked with me up north, or they did until…anyway, they disappeared. At first, I thought maybe they had something to do with your disappearance, since it seemed to happen around the same time. I searched everywhere, but no one could help…” He trails off, worrying his lip between his teeth. “You see, Eero and Noora are special people, and I thought maybe they had ways…”
“Are they why you’re in hiding?” I ask.
“Hiding?” he repeats, his eyes narrowing. “Who said I was in hiding?”
“Your brother,” I tell him. “He gave us his car to come and see you. Didn’t you wonder how we found you?”
“Well, yes, but sometimes things just work out in mysterious ways.”
He doesn’t know we both know he’s a Shaman. It’s something he has kept from Hanna her whole life, along with his many other secrets.
“So why are you in hiding?” Hanna asks. “Is it something to do with them?”
“You’re asking me all the questions,” he says. “I’m the one who should be asking you.”
“Then ask,” she says, cupping her tea in her hands and taking a delicate sip. The way she drinks tea reminds me of a bird. My little bird.
“Alright,” he says, looking between the both of us. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you kept in touch? An email or a phone call would have gone a long way.”
“She has been indisposed,” I tell him. “And if we tell you exactly where she’s been, there’s a chance you might not believe us.”
“You can try me,” he says, straightening up and folding his hands in his lap. “I believe most things. I’ve seen a lot in my life.”
“I’m sure you have,” I say. “Shamans see more than most people ever will.”
Everything seems to go still and quiet at once, even the crackle of the flames turning off, as if a switch has been flipped. That’s his Shaman magic on high alert.
“Shaman?” he repeats, but his face is blank, carefully so. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So this is how it’s going to be,” I say, relaxing back into the seat. “That’s fine. I’ll just have to make you remember a little earlier than planned.”
“Already?” Hanna asks me.
“It’s for the best,” I tell her.
“The best for whom?” she counters.
I can almost hear her thoughts. It’s not the best for her, for me, or for her father, for him to remember the tangled web we’ve all weaved around each other, but him knowing the truth will make the next part much easier.