“I’m so sick of this ghost,” complains a thirteen-year-old girl in a carnival dress and mask, flipping through an old photo album underneath a bookshelf.

“If you want to get rid of her, why did you hang up her portraits all over the house? The dolls with nooses around their necks give me the creeps,” shivers a woman of about thirty, standing on a ladder behind the girl with the album.

“I don’t know! That annoying old woman drives me crazy!” she slams the album shut, flipping the page. A loose sheet tears off and falls to the floor.

“The album isn’t to blame for your anger.” The woman descends the ladder, picks up the page, and wipes off the dust. “Albums carefully preserve our memories. We should be grateful.” She takes out a photograph and reads the name on the back. “Do you even know your name?” she asks the girl in the mask mysteriously.

“I do!” the girl closes the album, tossing it aside. “Gami!”

“And the album knows too.” She turns the photo over, showing the name ‘Gami’. “When you’re old, you’ll lose all your memory and forget your name, but our album will calmly remind you. It won’t just throw a photo at you.”

“Give it back! It’s my photograph!” Gami reaches for the dark picture. “My name’s on it!”

“You haven’t even seen who’s in it,” the woman pulls the photo away. “What if it’s me, not you?” she looks at the girl cunningly. “I can’t tell who you are with the mask on. I don’t know who you are.”

“My name is on it! Gami! What’s your name?” she tries to snatch the picture, jumping up but failing to reach it.

“Mina. You’re right, no one calls me ‘Gami’. Let’s confirm who’s in the photograph. Take off your mask. Prove that you’re Gami.”

“It’s me!” she keeps jumping. “Give it back!”

“How am I supposed to know?” Mina shrugs. “I still can’t see your face. What if it’s a different Gami in the photo?”

“Fine!” she abruptly pulls off the mask. Golden ringlets spring apart and fall onto the girl’s shoulders. “Look! See, I’m in the photograph!” she poses her face in the sunlight toward the picture.

“Now I see,” Mina laughs. “You only had a few golden hairs back then.”

“Give it back!” Gami snatches the picture and hides back in the shadow. “It’s hot today. I don’t want to be in the sunlight. I have extremely sensitive skin.”

“You wouldn’t know it from your personality,” Mina returns to the ladder. “Nasty little brats usually have thick, cold skin, like a toad,” she teases the nervous girl.

“And your face is like a toad’s!” Gami mimics her.

“But I can stand in the sun,” she sticks out her tongue, turning her face toward the sunlight. “You’re right, the sun is hot today,” she hides in the shade.

“I’m telling you, but you don’t believe me,” the girl says petulantly, running her fingers over the books on the shelf. “If only autumn would come sooner,” she whispers dreamily. “I’m sick of hiding from the sun during the day. It moves across the room, chasing us into the corners. I don’t like this kind of tag.”

“But at night you can walk all over the house and not be afraid of the sun,” Mina runs up and down the ladder. “You can roam all night long. No one tucks you in. And there’s no one to scold you.”

“I’d rather be scolded,” the girl dreamily runs her finger along a book spine. “But they just packed their bags and left. They didn’t even say goodbye. They only left mine. They should have just told me they didn’t want me. They just silently left while I was asleep. And they even took my bear right out of my hands. I can’t sleep without him at all! I have to wander around the house with you at night. I’d rather be dreaming. I like dreaming.”

“And I prefer walking around at night. Just not in the house,” Mina says cheerfully, walking along the edge of a sunbeam. “It’s better outside at night.” She smiles, looking out the window. “But that old woman keeps locking the door at night!” the older girl can’t help blurting out. “What is she afraid of? She’s the ghost among us. Her name is strange—Helgamina. What does it mean? I’ve never heard a name like that before.”

“Me neither,” Gami agrees. “It must be German.”

“And what’s your name?” Mina asks, looking at the girl’s face.

“French,” Gami replies importantly, fiddling with the lace frills on her dress. “A royal name.” She glances out the window dreamily.

“And mine is Spanish!” Mina tosses Gami’s golden ringlets. She jumps onto an armchair.

“Stop touching my hair!” the girl protests. She chases Mina, jumping from place to place.

“I’m jealous of you!” Mina justifies herself. “You have such golden ringlets, and mine are like a chimney sweep’s. And they aren’t as soft as they used to be.” She languidly lifts her hair; it falls in a waterfall to her waist.

“Why did you dye it?” Gami hints that the woman is to blame. She nearly catches up.

“I had to,” Mina sighs heavily. “When you grow up, gray hairs appear. And I got tired of being a blonde! Everyone wants to touch your hair,” she says, teasingly tossing Gami’s curls.

“Shh,” the girl stops, listening to the street.

“The old woman’s coming,” Mina whispers. “Let’s hide before she sees us and eats us,” she scares the naive girl.

“What if she catches us, chews us up, and eats us?” Gami looks with eyes full of fear.

“She’ll definitely eat you,” Mina assures her seriously. “Have you seen a single girl in the neighborhood?”

“No, not one,” Gami whispers in a trembling voice.

“Me neither. The old woman is the last person who sees them. She goes out, sees where the little children are playing. She lures them with sweets or dolls. The girl comes closer, and the old woman just grabs her! And immediately takes her home. She boils them in that cauldron,” she points to the old, deep cauldron covered in grease, dust, and cobwebs.

“They haven’t used it in a long time,” the girl reminds her.

“That’s because the children in the neighborhood ran out a long time ago,” Mina explains seriously. “See how thin the old woman has gotten. Ghosts need to eat to be scary. People aren’t afraid of skinny ones. See, I’m not afraid!” the woman bravely stands up, seeing the old woman approaching the house.

“Are you crazy!” Gami pulls her back down. “She’ll eat you. If she sees me, she’ll eat me too! Because of your bravery, we’ll become her lunch and dinner,” the girl scolds, and the golden springs of hair bounce with every word, adding conviction.

“Alright,” Mina calms down. “We’ll wait until it gets dark. We’ll leave the house ourselves and go outside. The old woman is afraid of the dark. But she’s not afraid to scare us,” the woman says, surprised. “She should just move out and leave our house alone!”

“Then let’s drive her out!” Gami suggests happily.

“How? If even your hanged dolls don’t scare her.” She uses a pointer to nudge a doll hanging above them. The toy swings, hitting the girl’s scattered photographs and drawings.

“Look at this! They’ve hung up all sorts of things again!” old Helgamina grumbles, yet smiling as she looks at the infant in the cradle. “We’ll close the door tightly so the heat from outside doesn’t get in the house. You’re already almost overheated in the sun,” she places the cradle on the table. She takes the baby out and makes a funny face. The little girl smiles, looking at the woman.

“See, I told you, she went for the baby. Now she’s going to light a fire in the fireplace and boil the infant,” Mina whispers, sitting with Gami behind the wardrobe.

“Girls! Come here! Help me,” Helgamina calls, looking at the stairs.

“Well, there we go. The old woman knows we’re here. Now she’ll definitely cook us too,” Mina sighs. “You first! Called it!” she pushes the younger girl out from behind the wardrobe.

“There you are!” Helgamina immediately spots the golden ringlets in the sun. Gami hides in the shade. “And where’s Mina?”

“Right there,” the girl angrily points a finger at the older woman in her hiding spot.

“Mina!” Helgamina addresses her seriously. “What kind of frightening game are you playing?”

“Ghost,” Mina steps out from behind the wardrobe. She immediately hides in the shade next to Gami.

“And why did you bring out the Halloween decorations?” she removes a hanged doll. “You’ve put my portraits next to them. Do you see a resemblance to your ghost?” she holds the doll up to her face. “Gami, why do I always look so scary in your drawings?”

“Because you’re old,” the naughty girl replies.

“And I thought it was all because of your pencils. You’ll be old someday too. And your face will change. Just like mine,” Helgamina explains with a smile. “Will you draw yourself so scary then?”

“She just can’t draw,” Mina teases, tousling Gami’s golden curls. She runs between Helgamina and the infant. The girl chases after her.

“Quiet, girls! You’ll wake Heli! I just managed to rock her to sleep in the fresh air. There’s so little shade left now. All the trees have dried up, and there are no leaves. They used to have thick crowns. It would get cold in the shade in the summer.” She shivers, removing her hat with a thick, white lace veil. “Please take all this down. What if guests come over, and we have this mess?” she looks distastefully at the clutter in the house. “And wash the cauldron!”

“I call Mina to wash it!” Gami immediately volunteers.

“Then you do everything else!” Mina outsmarts her.

“I’d rather do everything else,” the little girl replies happily.

“You two take care of the chores, and I’ll feed Heli,” Helgamina carries the cradle and the infant to the kitchen.

“I told you,” Mina whispers again. “Now she’ll prep the vegetables, chop them finely. I’ll wash the cauldron. She’ll boil poor little Heli in it.”

“Stop it!” Gami can’t take the fear anymore. “She didn’t eat her before. She won’t eat her now!”

“Before, Heli was tiny. Just a bite. But now the broth will be rich and savory.”

“Then why didn’t she eat us a long time ago?” Gami asks seriously.

“I’m old, my meat is tough. But you have juicy little sides,” she grabs the girl’s waist.

“Get off!” Gami pushes Mina’s hands away.

“Let’s go. Pick up the Halloween decorations,” the older girl grins.

“Wash the cauldron thoroughly!” Gami replies, sticking out her tongue.

“I know what I’m doing,” Mina sighs heavily next to the black cauldron.

“No one eats until you’re both done!” Helgamina calls from the kitchen.

“We know!” the disappointed girls answer in unison, carrying out their tasks.

“It hasn’t been used in years,” Mina grumbles, wiping cobwebs from the top of the cauldron. “Ugh!” she flicks away a large spider and lightly dusts it with ash.

“Well, you’re a real hero!” Gami peers into the fireplace. “Anyone can pick on little ones. We’re defenseless,” she strangles a doll in a noose. Playfully, she sticks out her tongue.

“Little ones cause more trouble than adults. Especially nasty ones like you,” Mina throws a piece of coal from the fireplace at Gami, hitting the hem of her dress.

“Couldn’t you think of anything better?” Gami throws the coal back. She brushes herself off. She carries the basket of decorations into the closet. She trips over the album, falls, and spills everything she collected. She angrily kicks the basket. “What are you looking at?” she yells spitefully at Mina. “I’m never taking these toys out again. What’s the point? We have the ghost of an old woman right here.” She casts a hard look toward the kitchen.

“I hear everything,” Helgamina shouts from the kitchen. “And I’m almost offended! A little more of that and someone will go hungry forever,” she adds with a smile in her voice.

“Our Gami will turn into a mummy,” Mina teases, pointing a finger covered in soot.

“Oh, great, you woke Heli up. And I haven’t even cooked the porridge yet,” Helgamina frets, rattling pots in a rush.

“We’ll all starve to death together!” Gami rejoices maliciously.

“We don’t matter; we need to care for Heli. The poor thing was left without her parents. And what’s this?” Helgamina gives the baby a little teaspoon to play with.

“Why did Heli’s parents abandon her?” Mina asks, pausing in her cauldron scrubbing. “She’s so cute,” she gushes, remembering the girl’s face.

“All children are cute until they grow up,” Gami tosses the toys back into the basket. The decorations bounce off and jump out, which irritates the girl even more.

“I don’t know,” Helgamina reflects sadly. “They probably couldn’t afford to feed her. Remember how weak we found her? She was so tiny and pale. But now look what a beautiful, rosy-cheeked girl she is!”

“She cried a lot!” Gami says out of spite. “She kept her parents from sleeping. So they went somewhere quieter. And they left Heli to cry, to scare away the crows and rats. She couldn’t even manage that!” she throws a boot at a rat. The victim runs away, and the girl jumps for her boot, still discussing it.

“She never cried for us,” Mina calmly reminds her.

“Of course, she didn’t cry,” Gami sneers. “Clever Heli knew that we would leave if she cried too. She kept quiet, so we stayed. And now she can cry all she wants, she can get on our nerves as much as she likes.”

“Heli never cries,” Helgamina notes with a smile.

“She hasn’t cried yet. Heli’s on probation, restraining herself. She’s waiting for us to get used to her,” Gami explains seriously. “Why do we need her anyway?” she says, as if she has found a useless object.

“You shouldn’t abandon children like that! Especially infants,” Helgamina declares. “They need special care at that age. Care, affection, warmth, and love.” She feeds Heli, smiling tenderly.

“I was abandoned when I was little too!” Gami recalls angrily. “And look! I manage somehow without all that nonsense of yours. You’re talking nonsense, that’s all!”

“I was abandoned as an infant too,” Mina replies. The cauldron gives a slight echo to the woman’s voice. “Now I realize it would have been much better if my parents had kept me.” She wipes her face sadly with a dirty hand. “A different life.”

“We were all abandoned,” Helgamina says seriously. “We can’t repeat that awful action and abandon those who need help and company. It’s much easier to live together. See how well we manage. And you shouldn’t be afraid to start a family,” she looks out from the kitchen, hinting at the girls.

“It’s too early for me!” Gami finally throws the basket of decorations into the closet. “But Mina’s old! No one will want to marry her!” she taunts the older woman, not realizing how deeply it hurts when no one wants you.

“Don’t talk nonsense!” Helgamina calls back seriously from the kitchen. “Our Mina will give all the young ladies a head start! She’ll have her own family soon, and she won’t have to listen to your endless foolishness anymore. You don’t understand anything yet, and you’re already speaking your mind.”

“Gami’s right,” Mina agrees sadly. “There are so many girls much younger than me. By the time it’s my turn, I’ll be as old as our Helgamina.”

“And you’ll be just as old and scary as our ghost!” Gami makes a face from behind the dresser with the bronze candelabrum, coated in dusty, frozen wax. The girls glance at it and keep silent so they won’t be forced to clean it. Although, after the cauldron, it’s Gami’s turn. Mina kindly keeps quiet.

“Everyone grows old, changing beyond recognition,” Helgamina gently strokes little Heli’s face. “Enjoy your youth. When you grow up, you’ll remember the passing years with longing and silently listen to your children telling you how ugly you are.”

“Well, I won’t get old!” Golden-haired Gami sticks out her tongue at everyone. She accidentally steps into a sunbeam. “Geez, it’s a scorcher today,” she leaps back into the shade.

“Don’t burn before dinner. I don’t like burnt meat,” Mina jokes, finishing the cauldron. “The meat should be tender,” she mentally tastes a piece, “medium-roasted over a fire of fruitwood. Take care of yourself!”

“We’ll eat you today!” Gami shouts, offended, glaring at Mina. “There will be enough of you for everyone. And some left for tomorrow.”

“And I prefer young, juicy meat,” Helgamina peers out, licking her lips.

“Stop it!” Gami screams. She’s afraid of everything, especially Mina’s stories about ghosts and old women who eat children.

“The cauldron is clean!” Mina announces happily. “I can eat. But Gami hasn’t picked up everything.” She points to the torn photo album and the photograph of little Gami at Heli’s age. She also had golden fuzz on her head and chubby cheeks.

“I’ll clean it up now!” the girl grumbles unhappily, putting the album and books back.

“It’s torn?” Helgamina asks sadly, walking over to the cabinet. “What a shame.” She picks up the photo album. “I’ve looked at it every day for as long as I can remember. I used to wear this carnival mask.” She picks up the mask Gami was wearing while looking at the photos. It glistens, reflecting specks of light in the shade. “And this girl looks so much like our Heli.”

“That’s not Heli! That’s me!” Gami snatches the photograph, hiding it behind her back.

“That can’t be,” Helgamina assures her. “I’ve been looking at these photos since childhood; she was always there. I know for sure. And when we found Heli in the crib, I remembered her. Only, for some reason, it’s signed: ‘Gami’.“

“Exactly! Because the photograph is of me!” the girl argues.

“Maybe it’s a coincidence. Girls were called that a long time ago.” Helgamina calmly puts the album back and returns to the baby. “Whoever wants to eat, join us!” she calls from the kitchen. “After lunch, Gami cleans the candelabrum, and Mina goes to pick the apples before they rot, as usual.”

“No! I knew it!” Gami laments.

“Cleaning the candelabrum is easier than washing the cauldron,” Mina smiles.

“Can I just clean off the wax?” Gami asks, sleepy after lunch. “There’s a mountain of wax every time!”

“Fine. I’ll polish it to a shine myself once Heli falls asleep,” Helgamina allows.

“I could use a nap after lunch, too,” Mina says, lazily preparing to go outside for apples.

“You need to make it before dark. We only have enough candles left for a few days. And the locals are predicting rain tomorrow. If the apples get soaked with water, they’ll rot right away. The little one and you need vitamins to grow up strong and healthy,” Helgamina plays with Heli.

“The sun is still scorching,” Mina peers out the window from a distance.

“Put on my hat with the veil. It’s near the door. And stay in the shade. Sunburns heal badly,” Helgamina rubs her healed burns on her arms and face, recalling painful memories. “You don’t need any new ones, so cover up well. Better to be hot than in pain.”

“Not much difference there,” Mina takes the hat, putting it on in front of the mirror. She also keeps quiet about the dust on the mirror so Helgamina won’t make Gami wipe it. She adjusts the veil, rolls down the sleeves of her dress. She takes the basket for the apples. “I’m going now!” she sighs heavily, leaving reluctantly.

“And find yourself a groom out there!” Gami yells after her.

“Where am I going to find one!” Mina hides her hands in the shadow of the hat. She surveys the powerful, dried-up trees. The new ones growing are crooked and scrawny. It’s a wasteland all around. The fields are overgrown with thick grass. The locals don’t come here, even though there’s plenty of space nearby. “Apparently, there’s a second Mina in the village who scares the locals with tales about a ghost and a man-eating old woman,” she says aloud to herself with a smile, picking up the fallen apples. Some are rotten. Some are worm-eaten. “Doesn’t matter! They’ll all be good for compote. Or we’ll bake a pie. At least they’re ripe,” she quickly grabs them, tossing them into the basket. She hides her hands from the sun; it’s really burning. “I don’t have gloves. I wish it would just pour,” she gathers the apples in quick motions. The sun is less scorching. “Is it evening already?” she looks at the horizon, but the sun is not visible. Clouds are drawing across the sky, making it darker. A light rain begins to drizzle. She speeds up. Now she can gather the apples without worry. “Thank you, kind sky!” she looks up with a smile. “What’s wrong with him?” A man in the town looks at her, glances at the sky, crosses himself, and mutters. “He must be thanking the sky too,” she carries the full basket, swaying under the weight. The rain follows Mina, but stops right at the doorstep.

“Why so many!” Helgamina exclaims, getting up anxiously. “You’ll strain yourself!”

“It’s fine! At least I gathered everything. I won’t have to go twice,” she takes off the hat with the veil. “It’s so nice out there,” she smiles contentedly. “The locals weren’t wrong, the rain came, just now, not tomorrow.”

“What rain?” Gami asks in surprise. “There isn’t a cloud in the sky!” she points out the window with a knife and returns to the candelabrum.

“Seriously, not a cloud,” Mina looks out cautiously. “I’m lucky, the sky helps me,” the woman rejoices.

“If it helps, where’s the groom?” Gami asks sarcastically.

“There was one guy there,” Mina recalls with a smirk. “He’d do for our Helgamina’s husband. Pious. He was talking to the sky, too.”

“I’m too old for marriage,” Helgamina smiles. “And why bother, what’s the use? Men only get in the way! You have to look after them like small children. And I already have three of you,” she counts the girls with a glance.

“I’m grown up!” Gami declares proudly. “You just haven’t seen normal men,” she says with an air of knowledge. “If you meet a good one, you’ll drop us in an instant, forget about us. Like my dad. Luckily, he only abandoned me. He left with my mom. A real man,” she reasons sarcastically, diligently scraping the wax off with a knife.

“Be careful not to scratch the metal!” Mina laughs, sorting through the apples.

“I won’t scratch it! You look after your own apples!”

“Everything is ours together,” Helgamina reminds them. “The candelabrum, the apples, the cauldron, Heli. We are all one whole in this house. Everything in it is ours. And it will be passed on equally. When I go, a new Helgamina will appear.”

“We don’t need a new Helgamina like you!” Gami protests. “It would be better if at least one of our fathers came back. Just not yours,” she gestures toward the eldest woman. “He’s almost a hundred! Then, true, we’d have to look after him like a child.” From nerves, Gami polishes the candelabrum to a shine, though she agreed to avoid it. “It would be better if my dad came back, or Mina’s. Heli’s is young and irresponsible. He’d make a mess for us to clean up later. But ours have grown up, gotten smarter. They regretted leaving. They’ll come back and help. Or they’ll take us with them.”

“Whose father are you talking about right now?” Mina clarifies.

“Mine, yours, what difference does it make! The main thing is to leave this life. The same thing every day. All these chores. Endless soot on the cauldron, cobwebs, dust, apples, wax!” she slowly works a cloth into the candelabrum. “The heat from the sun is the worst!” she sighs. “And the locals cross themselves every time it gets dark or lightning flashes. Every time I go out, I see them crossing themselves. They should be saving their calloused hands. The locals’ nerves are shot,” Gami complains seriously, rambling.

“Why do you say that?” Mina says quietly. “People are talking to the sky, giving thanks.”

“They’re afraid of everything, asking for protection. Why protect yourself from lightning? If it’s your fate, it will find you and strike, no matter how much you hide. And why be afraid of the rain? You say you went out. A couple of drops fell from the sky, and a man crossed himself. What kind of people. They should have plowed the field and sown the seeds instead. The land is just sitting there idle.”

“You talk like a grown-up,” Helgamina observes.

“And I am a grown-up!” she brings a shine to the candelabrum. “Not just men, all people are like little children. They act funny and silly! Why are we sitting in a dilapidated house? We’re lighting it with candles. They say the town has electricity. Light bulbs. And we’re lagging behind life. My dress is older than Helgamina. We sit here, the four of us, and life passes us by. It’s passing right there,” she points out the window, pulling her arm away from the sun. “Life is out there, and we are here. That doesn’t seem right. I don’t like it.”

“Then go, live the life you like, the one you talk about,” Mina snaps. She wants a change herself, but nothing good is on the horizon.

“Why should I go alone? Let’s go together!” she seizes the idea.

“Let’s go! But in the evening. The moon is gentler on the skin at night,” Mina agrees.

“Let’s drink the compote and go!” Gami peers out the window, bravely showing her face to the night.

“I’ll take some with me,” Mina pours compote into a bottle. She puts on her favorite dress with a hem that’s a little shorter than usual. “It’s easier to walk in this,” she justifies the dress’s slight immodesty to Helgamina.

“What about me? Do I have to wear the old one again?” Gami asks, disappointed.

“Take one of my new ones. I haven’t worn this one yet. Maybe the girl who lived here before left it. We’ll make it shorter,” Mina expertly gathers up the hem, stitches it with a needle. “We’ll take it in. And lift it,” she shortens the straps with a few stitches. “It looks tailor-made for you!”

“Thank you!” Gami is rarely happy. Gratitude is usually out of the question. “Let’s go quickly!”

“We’re off. Don’t miss us,” Mina says goodbye to Helgamina and Heli. They’ll be going to bed soon, but the girls have the whole night ahead of them, until dawn.

“That’s one good thing about not having parents,” Gami notes. “You can roam as long as you want. If it weren’t for the sun, I wouldn’t ever come home. Watch out, be careful here.”

“Thanks,” Mina carefully steps around a hole filled with branches. “And is Helgamina not like a parent to us? Or a grandmother.”

“More like a friend. She doesn’t forbid us anything. She’s always waiting for parents herself. Hers or ours, to take us away quickly. Can you imagine living a whole life like that?” Gami pictures it with horror.

“Honestly, I can’t imagine a whole life. But thirty years of waiting for parents is tiring and tedious. Through disappointment, anger, and despair, you keep waiting every day. And every morning you think, ‘Today’s the day! They’ll come back. Or one of them will’. You’re waiting for your father more because you’re as strong as a boy. You need control. But I’m tired of being strong. I need motherly affection,” Mina says tenderly.

“I don’t even know what I want anymore. I’m so angry at everything and everyone!” Gami throws a stone into the bushes, and birds fly out.

“You won’t sleep yourself and you won’t let others sleep!” Mina scolds her with a smile.

“They shouldn’t be sleeping if we’re not! They should come with us to the town. They can look at people and show themselves off.”

“Let’s hurry!” Mina listens anxiously to a rustling sound in the grass.

“You scaredy-cat!” Gami teases. She speeds up when she hears the same sound.

“We need to go that way,” Mina rushes toward the first streetlamp on the corner, at the end of the last street.

“Where should we go to hang out?” Gami asks, in a good mood. “Let’s go straight to where all the drinkers and dancers gather. I want to dance too.”

“It’s too early for you to be out with adults,” Mina adjusts her dress and Gami’s. “If you dance, the straps might tear and the dress will fall off. Be ready.”

“I’ll catch it,” the girl answers confidently. “Look how they dance,” she peeks into the window of a local bar. “Let’s go inside.”

“We can’t,” Mina insists. “Men will bother me. And they’ll scold you. You’re so little, and you’re not asleep yet. I suspect they might bother you too. Let’s just keep walking, for a stroll,” she turns around. Gami walks into the bar. “Wait!” Mina runs after the girl. She rushes in. Everyone freezes, mouths agape. One man quickly drinks his shot, looks at the entrance, crosses himself, and holds his breath.

“Get them out of here!” A piercing female scream shatters the silence like a crystal glass. The bottle of compote slips from Mina’s hands and breaks. “What filth!” the bolder men chase out the snakes, mice, birds, ferrets, and locusts that have poured into the bar with the girls’ arrival. Glasses, bottles, and chairs fly at the creatures. Women squeal and hide under the bar counter.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mina says, seeing Gami frozen by the shower of broken glass. “Strange people. It’s dangerous to go near them.”

“Why did all those animals come?” the girl wonders.

“Maybe they ran toward the light,” Mina suggests.

“Did you see how frantic they got, as if the devil himself arrived or they saw a ghost,” Gami laughs. Mina can’t help laughing either. They walk down the dark street, laughing. “Even their pets are wild,” cats hiss at the girls, horses shy away, and dogs run off with their tails between their legs.

“They’re not used to fashionable women’s dresses,” Mina says importantly. “Did you see how the women are dressed? Everything is so dull, drooping, without petticoats. I don’t even want to remember it. It looks vulgar,” she turns away with disgust.

“They’re scattering,” Gami looks with a smile at the people running in all directions, along with the rodents and reptiles. “The winged ones have it good. They just flutter away and don’t hear the screams.”

“Did you notice they’re not eating each other?” Mina points out.

“A nighttime truce,” Gami jokes. “Civilized people with wild ones. They’re crossing themselves again. Did you see?” she laughs, mimicking the gesture. She doesn’t finish the sign of the cross; her arm suddenly feels heavy.

“The locals consider such creatures pests, harbingers of evil spirits, I think.”

“If evil spirits wanted to come, they wouldn’t send so many small animals,” Gami reasons. “There were so many harbingers, and yet no one appeared.”

“Good evening, ladies,” a strong male voice addresses them. “Why are lovely beauties walking in such a troublesome town at this hour?” He steps between them and takes them by the arms.

“We’re looking for a groom for Mina,” Gami smirks.

“Stop it!” Mina pulls away. “We’re going home,” she draws the younger girl toward her. “Don’t talk to strangers,” she instructs seriously.

“A stranger?” the man protests with a smile. “Everyone knows me. And not just here,” he outlines the brim of his hat with a finger.

“We don’t know you. And we don’t need to,” Mina replies dryly and harshly.

“Going home?” He looks calmly at the women.

“Yes! And right now!” Mina answers, not looking at the stranger.

“But isn’t your house in the other direction?” He looks toward the house with a smirk.

“Mina, we came from the direction of the house,” Gami whispers. Fear intensifies inside her.

“Let him leave us alone, then we’ll turn back home. Gami, be quiet,” Mina says softly.

“Don’t be afraid of me. We are kind, eternal neighbors,” he says softly, moving away.

“We don’t have neighbors!” Mina turns around. The street is empty. Only the commotion near the bar can be heard in the distance. The brave ones, eager for a drink, return to their revelry. “Let’s hurry! Men are obsessed at this time of night,” a knot of fear restricts her diaphragm, making it difficult to breathe. Gami says nothing at all. She walks, eyes wide open. She’s afraid to blink. What if the man in the hat suddenly appears in front of them? She remembers all the scary tales she’s heard in her life. Now she realizes that she’s not grown up yet. She’s scared like a little girl. She doesn’t know that adults are afraid exactly the same way. Sometimes more so. Fear has no age. Everyone is afraid. “See, people are having fun again,” Mina soothes her, passing the bar.

“They’re crossing themselves again, looking at the door,” Gami notices.

“Fear stays in the soul,” they make their way through the steppe. They run into the house and lock the door with the bolt. They sit, hugging each other. They can’t catch their breath. They’re terrified.

“How was your walk? Did you have fun?” Helgamina smiles, walking in with Heli in the cradle.

“Not fun,” the gloomy girls say, having sat up all night without closing their eyes.

“Didn’t you like the music?” she asks in surprise, removing her sun hat with the white veil.

“The people were strange,” Gami complains. “They all ran away, screaming. What’s so scary about animals?”

“What kind of animals were in the town at night? Did the horses and dogs cause a panic?” Helgamina smiles, looking in the dusty mirror.

“All kinds of rodents, snakes, insects, and birds swarmed in from the fields and marshes. And then a man cornered us on the street,” Mina recalls.

“Snakes?” Helgamina asks warily. “A man?”

“One guy cornered us,” Gami grumbles. “We were walking away from the bar when he came up behind us. He had a strong voice. He ran his finger along his hat like this,” she mimics the movement.

“He ran his finger along his hat,” the woman whispers, not blinking.

“Do you know him? He said everyone knows him. And that we’re neighbors,” Mina remembers.

“If I understand correctly who you’re talking about, he’s not the best neighbor,” a flustered Helgamina carries the baby into the kitchen. “Who’s washing the mirror?” she asks in an even tone, not looking out at the girls.

“I’ll wash the mirror and clean the candelabrum. I washed the cauldron yesterday. It’s Gami’s turn today,” Mina immediately states. “It’s all fair.”

“The cauldron again,” Gami looks wearily and resignedly at the dusty, greasy cauldron, covered in cobwebs and a layer of years-old soot. “How much more of this? Let’s just throw it out!”

“Remember, we tried,” Mina reminds her.

“Why does it always come back? I can understand it being blown back into the house from the yard by a strong wind. But from the bottom of the swamp? And why clean it every time? We don’t use it.”

“Everything in the house must be orderly. You wash yourselves, don’t you?” Helgamina points the ladle at the girls.

“Were you walking around last night?” the girl asks. “We sat by the door all night. We thought you were sleeping upstairs. But you came in again this morning.”

“You dozed off, and we slipped out quietly so as not to wake you. We went for a walk with the little one before the sun got too hot. I hoped there would be clouds, since the locals promised rain. Not a single cloud in the sky yet,” Helgamina cautiously peeks out.

“Forget them! Those wild locals!” Gami irritatedly throws the brush into the cauldron. Dirty splashes run down the fireplace walls. “I’m not going to town again.”

“Where else are we supposed to go?” Mina asks, disappointed. “And take off the dress before you ruin it,” she says, taking care of the few good things they own.

“We’ll figure out where,” Gami goes upstairs to change. Helgamina stares with a fixed gaze at the porridge boiling in the pot. She shudders. She stirs it again. She shakes her head, throwing off bad thoughts. She glances at Heli. Mina watches silently.

“What’s taking you so long?” Mina goes upstairs, looking to see if Helgamina is following her. “Did you see how she changed when we mentioned the beasts and the man in town?”

“The old woman is always strange,” Gami says indifferently, adjusting her old dress. “Our Helgamina is odd.”

“Did you ever wonder where she goes every morning with little Heli? Isn’t that strange?”

“I’m more worried about the cauldron that keeps coming back!” Gami protests. “Life would be so much easier without it. Even in this house,” she looks at the cracked beams.

“I think,” Mina whispers uncertainly. “It’s time to run.”

“Run?” Gami almost shouts with joy. Mina quickly squeezes her hand.

“I don’t know where or when yet. We’ll find a time. Until then, not a word. Understand?”

“Not a sound will come from me,” the happy girl runs downstairs. She scrubs the cauldron with unprecedented zeal. Mina wipes the dusty mirror. She watches Helgamina wander around the house with the cradle. She sings softly, although it’s too early for Heli to sleep. The woman’s voice trembles constantly. Gami doesn’t pay attention to anything. She tries to clean the cauldron as quickly as possible. She thinks that will make them leave sooner.

“Don’t rush, you’ll rub your hands raw,” Mina says seriously.

“Don’t distract the girl from her work,” Helgamina says faintly, looking out the window. “There’s still a lot of work to do around the house. Who’s going for apples today?” she looks at the sky, then at the ground. She peers into the cradle. Heli is playing with a doll Gami made from her old dress. It wore out a long time ago. Soon this one will wear out too. The baby will have a new doll with a lace veil, like the one on Helgamina’s hat.

“We’ll go together,” Mina replies, wiping the mirror frame with a damp cloth.

“Why go out into the sun together right away?” the woman asks in surprise. “There’s only one hat.”

“I saw a second one upstairs,” Gami remembers. “Probably the other girl’s.”

“Alright. And we’ll stay at home,” Helgamina strokes the baby’s stomach. Mina’s heart clenches. How can they leave without Heli? She never lets the baby out of her sight for a minute.

“Can we sometimes take Heli for a walk?” Gami notices Mina’s worry.

“Why? She’s fine with me,” Helgamina looks into the cradle with a smile. “And it’s safer. You yourselves said the people in town are crazy,” she carries the baby away from the window.

“Then we’ll walk around the house, in the fields,” Gami doesn’t give up.

“I walk with her there too. Don’t get distracted, work,” she carries Heli upstairs.

“You shouldn’t have said that so suddenly,” Mina looks upstairs sadly.

“What difference does it make? You saw, she never lets the little one out of her hands. She definitely won’t trust us with her. They’re like one unit, inseparable day and night. They come back together every morning,” Gami reminds her. “I always thought Helgamina got up earlier than us and went for a walk with Heli. Turns out, she doesn’t even go to sleep.”

“I wonder where they go?” Mina muses in a whisper.

“Doesn’t it scare you to think about that?” Gami asks quietly. “It scares me.”

“If she wanted to hurt us, she would have done it a long time ago,” Mina realizes how unconvincing she sounds. A clever villain always prepares and waits.

“How will we get the second hat?” Gami worries. “We can’t go with just one.”

“Hold on,” Mina walks into the kitchen, past the sunbeams. She takes the tulle curtain off the cornice, alternately hiding her hands in the shade. She sews the folded curtain to a straw hat that has been lying there for years. “And it’s done! We can go,” she puts on the strangely fashioned hat. “Don’t forget the basket!”

“Why do we need these apples every time?” Gami grumbles, head bowed.

“Don’t complain. That’s not the main thing right now. Let’s go,” the woman urges strictly.

“Let’s go,” Gami walks out listlessly into the scorching sun. Her exposed skin is quickly turning red.

“Protect your hands!” Mina shows her how to hide from the sun. Gami copies her, quietly pleased. “We need to figure out how to take Heli.”

“Are you sure we should?” the girl doubts. “It’s dangerous with us. But with Helgamina, she’s always looked after, cared for, and peaceful. Maybe Heli is better off here?”

“Sometimes I think you’re not thirteen, but much older. You reason like a grown woman. I understand you, and I’m starting to think the same way. My heart aches when I look at the little one in the hands of the strange Helgamina. She used to be different. Or maybe I just didn’t notice. How could I have been so indifferent to everything before?” Mina wonders to herself.

“I was indifferent to everything, too,” Gami admits. “I looked at everything calmly. Then what was happening started to make me angry and irritated. The trip to town yesterday finally pushed me over the edge. I want to burn the town down along with the fields. If I could, I’d burn the swamp too!” she viciously squeezes an apple, crushing the flesh.

“Fire!” the cry rings out from the town. The scream is repeated. Panic spreads through the city. The bell tolls frantically. People hustle, running with buckets of water.

“It burns well,” the man in the hat from the night town stands behind the girls.

“Let’s go,” a serious Mina pulls Gami toward the house.

“Wait, girls,” he stops them gently. “I have an important conversation to have with you. It can’t take place without you.”

“We don’t have time,” Mina answers sharply, without turning around.

“You don’t have to speak. Just listen to me,” the man’s voice grows firmer with every word. “Please stay. It’s cozy with me.” He spreads his arms wide. A shadow spreads, covering the apple tree, the house, and the vegetable garden from the sun.

“Are you doing magic?” Mina turns around. The dry trees are instantly covered with lush, vibrant foliage. The black-burgundy leaves are filled with thick sap. They shimmer in the sun with a deep, gem-like luster.

“Why jump to magic?” he protests with a smirk. “I’m simply creating the necessary comfort for a pleasant and helpful discussion. Do you like the shade from your trees?”

“Such beautiful leaves,” Gami admires, examining a torn leaf. Burgundy sap drips from the stem.

“Don’t hurry,” the calm man persuades them. “Set the basket on the ground. Your hands hurt after being in the sun, don’t they?”

“They do,” Gami admits, setting the basket down. She examines the leaf, holding it with her other hand. The sap soaks into the sunburns. The wounds disappear without a trace. Scars flatten out. “Heal your wounds, Mina,” Gami offers. “The burns have marred your beauty,” she looks at the woman’s scorched face.

“What will the cost be for this miraculous healing?” Mina asks seriously.

“You’ve learned. Everything has its price,” the man smirks. “Don’t worry, this is a gift. Completely free of charge. Payment for a couple of minutes of your precious time from the forthcoming eternity spent with a forever-black and dirty cauldron in the fireplace, a dusty mirror, and a bronze candelabrum whose shine doesn’t last long.”

“How do you know all that?” Gami asks in surprise.

“Let’s just say I was involved,” the man admits. “You don’t talk to strangers. Perhaps that’s why our conversations feel tense. For the sake of easier communication going forward, let me introduce myself. Mr. Davy. Just Davy to you. I’ll answer your questioning looks right away. I’m not from around here. Nevertheless, we are the closest of neighbors.”

“Where is your house?” Gami asks, looking around the wasteland surrounding the burning town.

“You live on my land, in my house,” he looks affectionately at the two-story leaning house. “Don’t be afraid, no one is evicting you!” he reassures the girls. “And forgive me that only the town is burning, as you requested, young lady. I don’t care for the locals much either. And the lovely wastelands will still come in handy for you.”

“That’s good enough,” Gami replies generously, smiling as she looks at the blazing town.

“When I asked for rain to protect me from the sun, was it you who gathered the clouds while I was picking apples?” the woman guesses.

“Forgive me, I couldn’t stand to watch your suffering,” he sympathizes with the pain of the burns.

“Thank you for your concern,” Mina nods. “But is this kind of thing normal?”

“Caring for your neighbors is a perfectly normal thing. Necessary, even!” Mr. Davy states animatedly.

“I mean how exactly you care for us,” she clarifies to the evasive neighbor.

“Ah, you mean that!” he smiles innocently. “This is my land. I do as I please!”

“Is the sky yours too?” Gami smiles.

“Everything above my domain and everything beneath it is mine!” Davy answers with proud authority. “I apologize for your daily toil. It’s necessary. You will understand later. And you’re tired of apples, aren’t you?” He looks at the girls sympathetically.

“Only apples grow here,” Gami looks mournfully at the dried-up garden and trees.

“Precisely. Only apples,” Mr. Davy regrets. “I wanted to grow oranges or peaches. It won’t take. The soil holds only poisonous saps. The apples feed from the underground waters that pass through my domain.”

“What did you want to talk about?” Mina reminds him.

“I wanted to get acquainted with my lovely neighbors. I apologize right away for settling here,” he sincerely apologizes, removing his hat. The girls look at his black-burgundy hair. “Who wants the details?” He puts his hat on jauntily. “I have news for you.”

“I’d like to know more,” Mina says with a faint hope.

“Let’s step aside. Someone might see or hear us!” he closes the shutters instantly. “Sit down,” molten rods emerge from the earth. Cooling immediately, they become ornate benches, gleaming red, works of valuable stone. “Don’t be afraid, they’re cold,” Davy touches one with his hand.

“How beautiful!” Gami sits down, petting the bench like an obedient cat. “It’s so smooth.”

“Don’t be shy,” he invites Mina. “But don’t forget to heal the wounds on your face and hands.” He picks leaves for the woman.

“After the conversation,” she accepts the gift. “I don’t want to miss anything important.”

“Where to begin,” Mr. Davy rubs his hands thoughtfully. “There’s so much! Maybe it’s better if you start asking questions?”

“Why does the sun burn us?” Gami asks first.

“Excellent question!” Davy beams, pondering. “How can I answer that delicately?”

“Speak plainly, just tell us the truth,” Mina insists seriously.

“Alright. That’s easier. The skin of a restless soul is like air,” Davy explains.

“The skin of a restless soul?” Mina becomes alarmed.

“Allow me to continue,” the narrator politely asks. “The skin of a restless soul is light and vulnerable. The second membrane, covering the soul, holds it on the earth between the sky and my domain. Sunlight does not belong to me. In the sun, the membrane evaporates. The rays scorch the exposed soul.”

“If the whole membrane burns up, is the soul set free?” Gami asks.

“Not exactly. If the membrane burns up, the soul flares up and disappears. The film protects against the harmful effects of the sun,” Mr. Davy explains importantly.

“Why keep a soul in constant danger at all?” Gami protests.

“You see, some souls don’t do well in my underground domains. And they aren’t allowed up above. Which I personally think is wrong!” he says, looking up at the sky. “I arrange a life on earth for such souls. As best as I can and as necessary. I’ll answer your next question right away. The housework is necessary. It’s the payment for dwelling in my domain on earth. It’s how you strengthen the membrane of your soul.”

“Why do you speak of us as restless souls?” the woman interrupts.

“I’ll correct you right away,” Davy hedges. “I speak of ‘a soul’, not ‘souls’.“

“And what does that mean?” Mina asks nervously.

“You see, it’s like this,” he fidgets with his fingers.

“We agreed to speak plainly!” Mina reminds him firmly.

“We did. In short, you are one restless soul,” Davy states directly.

“Gami and me?” the surprised woman asks again.

“Not quite,” Davy stammers. He gathers his courage under Mina’s heavy gaze. “The four of you are one restless soul!” he breathes out with relief. “You’ve all invented such complexities!” he involuntarily looks up at the sky. “It’s quite exhausting.”

“Helgamina and Heli are parts of our soul?” Mina looks at the house, which has two parts.

“That’s right,” Mr. Davy confirms. “Helgamina is your collective name. Heli, Gami, Mina. Helgamina.”

“Why that name, specifically?” Gami protests, scratching the bench with her nail.

“Why are we a restless soul?” Mina asks resignedly.

“And where are our parents?” Gami asks, following up.

“Good timing on the second question,” Mr. Davy praises. “They’re interconnected. I was looking over these lands. They weren’t mine then,” he clarifies for absolute understanding. “A young couple lived here. They had a daughter. They named her after the wife’s grandmother. Helgamina. How much happiness there was in this beautiful house. It blinded my eyes,” he confesses, rubbing his eyes. “I even envied it a little.”

“And what happened to them?” Gami impatiently urges him on.

“The girl fell seriously ill at the age your Heli is now. The parents were beside themselves. When they couldn’t stand to see the little one suffer and cry any longer, they managed to put her to sleep, covering her tiny face with a heavy pillow. When the suffering ended, they left the peacefully sleeping girl. The woman only took the teddy bear that Gami slept with. That’s what the parents called her.”

“So that’s who took my teddy bear!” Gami cries out. She softens, thinking of her mother.

“Gami,” Mina whispers. “Mom took the teddy bear to keep a memory of us.”

“And left the photograph,” the girl grumbles, offended, crossing her arms.

“I remember how painful it was for your parents to look at the photographs,” Mr. Davy recalls with bitterness.

“Then these lands weren’t your domain,” Mina reminds him.

“They became mine forever on that terrible day. Honestly, I didn’t want any of this,” he sighs heavily, looking at the ground.

“Why are there four of us, and why are we all different ages if we died as a little girl?” Gami asks, confused.

“When a small child dies, the restless soul splits into four parts. The first part is the moment of death. The second is the age at which she should have grown up. The third is the fully formed personality. And the fourth part is the moment of death under normal circumstances.”

“If we were supposed to die as the old Helgamina, why did we die as the little Heli?” Gami asks, puzzled, staring intently at Davy. Mina is curious too.

“The situation is complicated. Premature deaths are beyond anyone’s control. Up there,” he points to the sky. “They determined how long the soul sent to earth could live. Life determines how long one lives. I accompany the restless souls on earth in my new domain.”

“Why don’t they take such souls up to the sky?” Gami glares angrily upward.

“They don’t need them up there. If a soul hasn’t lived out its allotted time above and died early, it’s considered unfit for settling into a newborn. Such rules always infuriated me!” Davy throws an apple at the house. Pieces of flesh and juice spray everywhere. “Stupid rules!” he yells at the heavens.

“Shameless!” Gami throws a second apple at the house.

“Unfair!” Mina throws the ripest apple. Juice flies like a fountain.

“Now, at least, you understand me,” Mr. Davy smiles contentedly.

“And what happens to us next?” Gami asks anxiously.

“It all depends on you personally. If you protect the membrane, you’ll continue to live in my earthly domain. If you don’t protect it, you’ll burn up irreversibly in the sun. I can take you to my underground domain at any moment. It’s your choice,” he openly states the options. I’d rather have neighbors like you than any others.

“Are you going to kill and torment us?” Gami looks at Davy with distrust.

“What an idea, child? How could I!” he is genuinely outraged. “In my memory, only they torment unhappy souls by sending them to earth,” he looks irritably at the sky. “But we have our own atmosphere down below. It’s a bit dull, a bit gloomy, but no one burns up in the sun. Everyone is upset about dying before their time was up. They didn’t make it up above. Remember the restrictions,” he reminds them with a sidelong glance upward. “But otherwise, we spend eternity peacefully. We have fun just like on earth. Just without any of that anger or aggression. It’s nice with us,” he sighs with a smile.

“And where do the bad ones go, if you only have peaceful and good ones?” Gami ponders.

“They burn up immediately,” Mr. Davy answers calmly. “Nobody needs them. They spoil on earth, and then they’re surprised that no one wants them in their company. At first, I felt sorry for them, I took them in. I got tired of it. They constantly lied, caused disturbances, and hurt other souls. I couldn’t take it, so I gathered all of them and sent them back to earth. They flared up so brightly,” he recalls thoughtfully with a smile. “It’s a shame people didn’t see the consequences of that behavior. Now we only have good ones. And I always give restless souls a choice. Come to my underground domain. Or stay there, on earth. They often choose their own home. That’s your case. It’s hard for others to stay in the place of their death. They burn up or come to me. Everyone has a choice.”

“If all souls burn up or come to you. Which ones do they send to earth for a new life then?” Gami points to the sky.

“They collect the rays of the burned ones. They make new ones. The good souls most often burn up themselves. So in the end, there are more bad ones collected on earth,” Mr. Davy explains calmly.

“And if we go down, is it all four of us at once?” Mina clarifies.

“If all of you come down in parts, it will get crowded with us. And this way, it’s spacious. The soul itself chooses in what form to descend. Mostly young people. Whatever they like.

“And what if one of the parts burns up in the sun?” Mina asks. “And is killing your own part considered a sin for which the whole soul burns up immediately?”

“Interesting question. Do you want to burn the old woman?” Davy laughs with a smirk.

“It’s a last resort,” Mina clarifies seriously.

“If one part burns up, the memories, emotions, and feelings of that part of life burn up with it. The others remain intact. And no, it’s not the sin of murder. Souls often get rid of the worst part of their lives. Many burn the last part. It’s the heaviest, it weighs down the rest of the soul. It brings many unpleasant feelings. The bitterness of realization, regret, remorse, sadness, and many such things.”

“And where does Helgamina go every morning with little Heli?” Gami looks at the house.

“Helgamina takes Heli outside every night to burn her. She thinks about it all night. Every time at dawn, she backs away from the terrible thought. She returns home.

“Why does she want to burn the little part of us?” Mina asks in surprise.

“She thinks if she burns the first part of your soul, the rest will be set free. Once she set Heli’s crib out in the field under the open sun. I barely managed to summon birds and insects above her. It created a protective dome. Then I gathered the clouds. I saved the little one, and I warned Helgamina not to do that again. Otherwise, I’ll burn just her,” Mr. Davy tenses up from the remembered trauma.

“And is there no way around cleaning the cauldron and the candelabrum with the dusty mirror?” Gami asks plaintively, hoping for the mandatory chore to be canceled.

“I’m sorry, girl, it must be done,” Mr. Davy regrets. “I accepted those terms to save the souls. Up there,” he points a finger at the sky. “They offered to burn all the souls immediately. Without separating them into good, bad, and restless. I negotiated to save the good and restless souls from sun-death. They resisted for a long time. I barely persuaded them. They agreed in exchange for several conditions. You know the first one, the work in the house. The responsibility is entirely mine. And I must watch over them eternally, especially on earth, so they don’t bother the living. And I enjoy how people get scared and agitated when they see ghosts,” Davy laughs, making faces.

“Now it makes sense why they always cross themselves,” Gami realizes.

“They think they’ll be helped, saved. They’re scared, so they cross themselves. But they don’t know that nobody wants them. No one will help, and it’s all for nothing,” Mr. Davy sadly admits.

“So you save the good souls after death, and everyone speaks so badly about you?” Mina makes a serious conclusion.

“It seems so,” Davy smiles sadly. “What can you do, that’s just the way it is. People are told what is good and what is bad. They believe it without question. It’s easy to live by other people’s words. No need to strain yourself, look at things clearly, or draw correct conclusions. Did you see how people reacted to the appearance of my little friends?” He speaks affectionately of the creatures. “But they came with gifts. They brought berries, nuts, medicinal herbs, and nectar. And how were they greeted?” he recalls with disappointment and anger. “Such cruelty! I took the little ones in for a while. Let them heal their spirits and nerves. I’ll return them to the fields and swamps. That’s why I didn’t burn their house down.”

“Right,” Gami supports him. “But why did you set the town on fire?”

“To distract them from you. Now they’ll rush to rebuild their homes before winter. And they won’t be concerned with you. You can calmly decide what to do with your soul. Think about it; you still have time,” Mr. Davy smiles good-naturedly.

“And how will we let you know our decision?” Mina wonders.

“Just call me. You won’t have to call for long. I come to my dear souls right away. Care is paramount. Maybe I’ll drop by for a visit sooner. Think it over. Bye for now!”

“Bye,” Gami waves goodbye.

“We’re one restless soul,” Mina whispers, stunned.

“You didn’t guess?” Gami smirks. “Run! The leaves are disappearing!”

“Hurry!” Mina smears herself with the sap from the gifted leaves. The wounds and scars disappear.

“We made it!” Gami rejoices, closing the door of the house.