The Crystal Circle: A Paranormal Romance Novel (6 page)

“Where?”

Lynn explained about the schnitzel stand, and Dave immediately asked if, at the earliest opportunity, she’d help him to prepare some cutlets. Lynn glanced at the many shelves that covered the small trailer. They were covered with masses of books. It seemed that Dave was not averse to any idea that human civilization had to offer. Geophysics, the history of mankind, Garcia Lorca, Virginia Wolf, TS Eliot and Stephen King all stood side by side with hardcover art books by Degas, Matisse, Van Gogh and Rembrandt.

“Have you read them all?”

“Yes,” he smiled. “Why? Would you like to borrow something?”

“I’d be happy to... once I have an organized place of my own. You know and remember what’s written in each of them?”

“The majority,” he said modestly. “I love to read, but unfortunately I don’t have much room in this small trailer. After two years or so, I give books away, and because people know my hobby, wherever there’s a library selling off its books, or people are getting rid of some, they bring new ones to me. Tell me, when do you have to go to work at the restaurant?”

“Today I start at half past two, but usually I’m supposed to report there by twelve.”

“Great, so we have some time. Listen...” He smiled, pulled a book from a shelf and began reading to her. It was Paulo Coelho’s
The Devil and Miss Prym.
After reading a few sentences, they began to discuss whether Man is indeed intrinsically bad, as Coelho implies in his wonderfully concocted tale, or whether there’s goodness at his base and evil is the necessity of circumstances. They agreed on many things, and the conversation flowed until there was a sudden knock on the door and a bustle of kids could be heard outside.

“Oops, sorry.” Dave jumped up. “I’d forgotten about the children. My turn, today.” Lynn looked curiously at Dave. He opened the trailer door and five children between four and seven years old came bounding in calling, “Hello, Dave!” as they were accustomed to. They grabbed pillows and sat on the floor, looking at Lynn in silence and amazement. Dave rushed to introduce her. “Children, today we have a new guest. Her name is Lynn. Say hello to Lynn, kids!”

“Hello, Lynn,” they said in unison, a cheerful choir of high-pitched voices.

“Hello to you too, children,” she said, and felt a small tear choking her, a longing for something unknown. What was in her past that was so obscure and encrypted? Did she have children and didn’t remember them? How was it possible to forget a child?

“I’m on call on Tuesdays,” said Dave. “Every day, someone takes and fetches the kids from kindergarten and school to play with them and feed them until their parents arrive. I have no children of my own, but I volunteered for the rotation. Lynn,” he whispered to her, “would you like to help me with something?”

“Yes, gladly.” She jumped up, ready to help the generous man who welcomed her into his house.

“You said you know how to make cutlets? There are some in the freezer. Could you fry them for the children?”

“I’d be happy to.” Lynn quickly found what she needed in the tiny kitchenette and was about to fry cutlets as she listened closely to the tenderness and pleasantness with which Dave read stories to the children. He made sure to ask them about details in the story and to explain the moral. The children would often participate with their thin voices. They were fascinated. Meanwhile, Lynn cut some cucumbers and piled the cutlets on a plate. The children sat around the table and, within very few minutes, nothing remained of the meal. Immediately afterward, she apologized and said she had to go. Dave stood up and walked her to the door.

“Would you come by after work? We’re not done talking, and there’s so much more to talk about.”

Lynn thought about it. “Why not? I’ll come sometime after eight o’clock. See you, kids!”

The children shouted, “See you, bye bye!”

She started to run so she’d make it on time to the job she’d acquired just the day before. On the way, she thought that there was something very attractive about Dave. Although he wasn’t good looking in a manly sense, he had charm and appeal despite the limp, or maybe because of it. He intrigued her very much... and he wasn’t intimidated by the possibility that she was being followed.

Lynn was so deep in thought after work that she didn’t notice the man who shadowed her as she walked past the stalls along the promenade. He pulled out a cellphone and dialed, said a few words, and hung up. In the evening, she noticed a few masculine stares accompanying her on her way back. It was difficult to know who was interested in her, who wanted her, and who was following her. Was someone taking a picture of her or the view?

She started to run. By the time she came to the camp, a few small generators were providing electricity to some of the vans while some of them operated on rapidly- emptying batteries.

People were getting ready for bed. Children were already showered and in their pajamas. Most meals had been finished, and dishes were being washed under the water pipes and shower hydrants. Television lights flickered here and there from those caravans which had antennas on them.

The door opened immediately, and there stood a man with a look of joy on his face. His eyes were sparkling with the fire he’d lit in the stove, where a fragrant casserole was already bubbling for her. It was a feeling of home.

Home…. I probably wasn’t always alone,
she thought.

“Welcome, Lynn! I’m very happy you came back.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she wondered, panting and wiping the sweat from her face.

“I had a moment of doubt,” he admitted, “and then all this casserole would have to be thrown into the garbage and the cats would be having a great dinner.”

“You can give them some of the joy without reducing our pleasure...” She laughed, sipping big gulps of air.

“You’re breathless,” he remarked. “Did you run all the way? I’d have waited for you for another half-hour. Were you worried that there wouldn’t be anything left to eat?” He chuckled hoarsely.

“I ran fast... because…” She didn’t elaborate.

“And how was the schnitzel business today? You made good tips?”

“I’m not a waitress. I cook and coordinate the kitchen behind the scenes. It’ll be nice to eat someone else’s food for once. And... I don’t get tips. Just a weekly salary.”

He approached the table, which was beautifully set with a checkered tablecloth and a vase of flowers, just like in an Italian restaurant, and put the steaming casserole on top of it. The smell of the stew hit her nose strongly. She ate and savored every bite. “Where did you learn to cook like this, Dave?” she asked.

“It’s a natural gift. Born with it.”

“And where were you born, really?” A cloud covered his face, and he looked at Tom the Cat. He didn’t answer. Lynn felt that she’d trespassed somewhere forbidden.
Everyone has secrets,
she thought.
You have to know where to step and where to carefully skip over the pitfalls...

“Dave,” she turned to him at the end of the meal. “I’m looking for a place to live, somewhere they won’t ask too many questions I don’t have the answers to. A place where I won’t be chased, a place to live for a short while until I’m clearer about what’s going on with me. Would you recommend this place? The trailer park?”

Dave raised an eyebrow, paused, and finally said, “Someone came after you?”

“I ran because I thought someone was taking pictures of me. Maybe it was random... people were following me at the promenade... maybe. I really don’t know.” Dave recalled that Lynn had arrived sweaty and breathless. His eyes took her in, warm and soft. He knew that Lynn was independent and optimistic, yet felt she needed protection. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman for years... or at all.

“As for the trailer park, I really like living here. I’ve been here three years and have never been bothered. The residents are all discreet because everyone has secrets and reasons for living here rather than in the city. But... I’m afraid, Lynn, that there aren’t any trailers to rent. People just park their trailer, or hut, or tent, and others join them.”

She was disappointed. “Maybe a small room with someone?”

“In that case…” he began solemnly, “it just so happens...” He smiled. “I have a small room in the trailer, behind the kitchen. It was designed to be a study when I bought the trailer, but at the moment it’s used for storage. I was actually thinking about renting it out. Interested?” Dave didn’t sound so convincing in his honesty, but even if he hadn’t intended to rent, but rather had the idea sprout in his mind that moment, it was still an appealing idea to both of them.

“So how much are you looking for?” She looked at him, cool and businesslike, not wanting him to be tempted even for a second to offer it as a gift. To be in someone’s debt, there was nothing she hated more.

“I haven’t thought about it yet. Maybe... 200 shekels per month?”

“It’s too little. We’ll close on 300,” she stated.

“You’re exploiting me!” He groaned with pleasure. “These are definitely odd negotiations,” he remarked.

“And I have more conditions, Dave.” She was obviously in no position to impose conditions, but she really needed to align and coordinate expectations from the get go.

He smiled. “Yes, boss. What conditions?”

“I get a key to both doors, the front and the room. I suppose there’s a bed in there?”

“Yeah, Ok...” He was curious about what was next on the list.

“I bring my own linen, but at first I’ll use your stuff until I get my own. And... most importantly...”

“Yes?” Dave was already grinning, trying not to laugh out loud.

“We sign a landlord/tenant contract right now. We won’t mention what period of notice the landlord must give the tenant, but we’ll certainly write that the relationship will be that of a landlord and tenant, and won’t include any interpersonal relationship of any kind.” Dave could no longer hold back and gave out a loud laugh.

“You’re great, Lynn! Who invented you? I’ll draw up the papers.” They wrote the agreement together, signed two copies and Lynn paid him 200 shekels upfront. Then they shook hands and raised a toast. He showed her the room, and they agreed that the next morning, very early, she’d come and help him sort out all the things that were stored in it. Lynn admitted that she was tired, but the contract was to be valid only from the following day.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?” Dave asked worriedly.

“There are maid’s quarters in the Herods Hotel. There’s space for me to sleep on a spare bed. Starting tomorrow, I’ll have my own place,” she smiled.

Dave put a CD on the stereo, some jazz band he’d discovered in New Orleans that was “better than all the dank jazz caverns of Manhattan,” as he said. They washed the few dishes together and splashed happily at each other to the rhythm of the saxophone. They remembered to put out a small plate of leftover casserole for the park cats. For Tom, Dave put some in his little dish.

“I shouldn’t indulge him too much. He only throws up afterwards,” he said.

“Thanks for the delightful evening and the wonderful meal,” she said. As she approached the door, she remembered something important. “Do you have a large scarf?” she asked.

He thought he did. After a few minutes of searching, he found a somewhat dusty green scarf. She tied it around her hair so that every curl was covered up, and also asked for a pair of sunglasses. Unfortunately, he didn’t have sunglasses, just some old frames that had lost their lenses.

“Excellent!” Lynn said. She put on the glasses and looked like someone else, perhaps someone religious, or, God forbid, sick with cancer... or both.

“And why?”

“It’s better this way,” was her only comment.

“If you want, I’ll walk with you.” He understood the purpose of the disguise. “It’s rather a long way, and it’s dark now.”

She was really touched by his concern for her safety, but refused. “I have no words to thank you, Dave -” she began, and he cut her off with a gesture. Lynn hesitated on the doorstep, and then rushed off. He watched her through the window and saw her disappear. Her reflected image remained in the eye of his mind long after she was gone.

06/22/2013 - Seventh day of disappearance

The next morning, Lynn went to the trailer, still wearing the same handkerchief and glasses, to Dave’s surprise. When she removed them, he froze, his mouth opening as he slowly swallowed his saliva. The pile of honey-colored curls that almost touched her shoulder blades was gone. In its place were short curls that covered her head without even reaching down to her neck, and her new color was dark brown, almost black, in fact.

“Lynn, what have you done?”

“Shaken off my stalkers. Men are actually easy to fool. Hair color, glasses, a different dress, and they’re already confused,” she smiled. “I had to get rid of it. It’s only hair. It’ll grow back!” she said flatly, laughing at the panic that spread across his face. “You attach too much importance to hair. It’s not the whole essence of a woman.”

“And what is the essence of a woman?” Dave reflected.

“To resolve disputes, solve conflicts, to induce harmony where there’s an argument, to promote intuition and... to find things that men have misplaced.”

“And maybe to increase the beauty of the world solely by existing?” smiled Dave, looking deep into her eyes.