I walked into a local fast food restaurant. My friends and I used to come there. In the very corner was our favorite table just next to a lovely flea market coat rack and some soft armchairs and a couch with faded herringbone pattern. It was just in front of the counter so that Tania could make eyes at a hot barista with a hipster beard and an ebony tunnel earring; Anna would inevitably lament about just another boyfriend; I could clearly see other guys giggling over someone’s dank memes or recently uploaded pictures. Now everything is hushed and dusky.

That hour I felt I went to a liminal space. I’ve read about them: the places where you can feel uncomfortable when one alone or during the night, like playgrounds or lecture rooms. The restaurant met the requirements. Random tired people were scattered around. Stuff members paced with sluggish evening energy. If it were not for some customers and a slow motion waitress, I would think I was in the mirror again: Avis through the Looking-Glass. I started kind of liking someone else's name.

I texted Max the exact address and plopped myself into a chair. I craned my neck sideways to find a regular crowd but saw only a bunch of strangers who were talking softly and their voices blurred together in one strange lulling whisper. Against the dark background of an evening street a pale, chiseled face was gazing back at me like a ghost in the window. I was shocked how bony and thin my face was. All features reflected in a glass darkly looked exaggerated like in a painting of a modernist artist: neck was too long, chin was too pointed, eyes were too big. Dark eyebrows created a strange contrast with my light skin complexion like in Vrubel’s “the Swan Princess”.

I ordered some mixed salad and French fries not to starve my body to death. Still I could barely eat and was munching fries with no appetite, making barricades and bridges out of the cucumber circles.

I wanted to get my mind off while waiting for my friend. Reading a book in my phone, I caught myself doing it without understanding. I could read one paragraph several times, but accidentally I would stick at one word that reminded me something, go deeper in my thoughts, perk up, and had to start again. The process was not satisfying; it was like reading for boring seminars or drilling some tedious rules.

“Hey, girl,” Max was standing next to me. He came faster than I expected. I hoped he didn’t play a street racer on the road.

Wishing the dim light would conceal my treacherous blush, I stood up to greet him. Max looked different today. Oftentimes he wore ball caps, hoodies, vintage T-shirts, and ripped jeans. But a boy from the block disappeared. My next door friend looked like a top manager who happened to drop in a cheap food court.

“Have you been preparing for a job interview, young man?” I asked laughing. “I’m so happy to see you!”

He said nothing but hugged me tightly. We never did it before. His body was so close and that was surprisingly exciting. I tried to remember when anybody had hugged me recently, but couldn’t. It felt like the first time; everything seemed anew and thrilling. I didn’t know I needed him so much or maybe it was because of the extraordinary circumstances. We were the same height, and I could feel his ear against my cheek and his hands touching my back. In his arms I had a false sense of security. Reluctantly, I halted the hug. Max looked into my face: his eyes were glowing; his chest was falling and rising. I turned away in confusion.

We sat together side by side on a couch, close enough to touch with our knees. I liked our childishly naive intimacy. I told him my story one more time, clutching in my hands a bag strap. Не listened to me without interrupting, though he had already known it.

“As it happens, I had a friend here, in this city. I talked to him while driving to you and gave him all details of your delicate situation. But don’t worry; he’s a cop and a very good one.”

“You never told me about him,” I was perplexed.

“You never asked,” he showed me his crooked smile. “The point is, he is working this case and prosecuting your criminals: Kaleb and Zarya. I didn't get into specifics on the phone, but he asked us to visit him as soon as possible.”

“No way! Can he really help me?”

“I’m sure he can. Lee said they must have hypnotized you, or something,” he said, looking at me tenderly. “He’ll ask you some questions. Probably, find you a decent counselor to help with your memory. Personally I believe your parents and friends are safe, but definitely not here. Your memories are real but might be mixed up with this place somehow,” he said it, rubbig his nose.

Maybe he is right; he confirmed all my hypotheses. Everybody is fine and perhaps they are worrying about me and thinking I have gone missing. And this city... I might have been on the excursion here or lived for a while, that’s why I know it so good!

“Let’s go,” he reached for my gym bag.

“Now?” Things were moving faster than I expected.

“He’s waiting for us at the police station. They need your testimony,” he said resolutely. “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you all the time.” He slightly touched my elbow with the tips of his fingers.

There were so many gaps and holes left, but Max’s explanations and confidence seemed perfect for me. As proof of that, the police officer knew their names. I had not mentioned them to Max and just called them “those two” or “blondie and marigold”.

“Zarya and Kaleb, Kaleb and Zarya, Zarya, Zarya” I was repeating their names in my head for no reason.

He took my bag and hold the door for me in a very gentleman manner. I sat in the front next to him and tried to ask more questions about his friend and his assumptions, but Max insisted I should get some sleep.

***

I woke up in a fear but relaxed when saw Max’s face. He was driving slowly through the darkness. He smiled comfortingly and gently brushed his hand against mine, but let it go quite quickly. I smiled at him, hoping we would have an opportunity to talk about us later.

“How long did I sleep?” I said, stretching and yawning. I sat with my hands in my lap, trying to understand where we were.

“Mmm? I don’t know, maybe 20 minutes?” Max said absently; his attention was focused on driving. And I understood why. The road was bumpy and without illumination. On both sides of the road there were lines of trees.

“Max, I think you’ve chosen the wrong way. Are we on the territory of the Botanical Garden? How did you manage to get here?”

I was there million times with parents: we had lovely picnics, fed cocky squirrels and tits, ride bicycles or simply walk. Maybe I did something similar with my real parents. There were small serpent roads for bicycles and pedestrians and some big ones for official vehicles which were used to transport fallen trees or some equipment for greenhouses and a rosarium.

“I wanted a little detour; the gates were wide open, there were no sign, and I thought it was a side road," he avoided eye contact and tapped his fingers against the wheel. "Oh, great!”

Across the road was a huge fallen tree. The workers seemed to have cut down most of the branches but left them on the road.

“They might return and take the rest of the tree. That’s why they left the gates open.” I was disappointed and wanted to visit the police officer as soon as possible to move the situation from the lethargic point, but the Gardens were almost in a suburban area. We would spend so much time returning!

He looked quite relaxed for a person who had trespassed the territory on his car without permission.

“Have you seen that man?”

“No, where? I was peering into the darkness.

“It must be one of the workers. I’ll go and ask him for help,” he said it, getting out of the car. “I’ll be in a minute. Wait here.”

“Where are you going? Let’s just turn around and drive back to the high-road.”

He paid no attention to my words and disappeared behind the windfall.

That’s ridiculous. The road is wide enough to go back to the gates and turn down the road we need.

Waiting about five minutes, I was at the end of my rope and decided to go after him.

Where the hell is he? Why are we even here?

I was scared of his unusual behavior and the darkness of the place in general. It seemed to be the farthest point of the Gardens with no street lights along the drive, no lodges or toolsheds, and no Max around too. I called him, but the answer was the sounds of the night forest. I advanced through the intermingled branches above my head and mossy ground under my stumbling feet.

I wanted to call his name again, but my tongue stuck in my throat. I felt my body was refusing me and fell on the ground. I thought I might have fainted, but I was completely conscious except for my numb limbs. I couldn’t move them like in a nightmare when somebody’s chasing you, but you remain motionless. I heard someone’s steps. It was Max. I saw his shoes next to my face. I tried to mumble, but it felt I had full mouth of marshmallows. I expected him to react or help me at least to stand up, but he was whistling something to himself.

“You are early, sweet bird, the portal is not ready. You’ll have to be a good girl and wait here for a while,” he said in his usual friendly tone.

I had a strong stab of panic. I would cry like a crazy if I could. His familiarity and condescending words hit me like daggers. I should have guessed. Everything was too good to be true: his friend cop, his calls, hugs and touches! I thought I knew him; I thought I could trust him; I thought I have...

No, no, no, no, stop that. Stop being a victim. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Move, just move! You’ll think about all your stupid feelings for him and cry a river later or else nobody would cry over your body, because nobody would find it.

Precious time flies fast, and he is going to return any minute. I was convinced I would never move my paralyzed body again, but slowly it regained motility. Fingers, toes, lips. Now I can move my neck and use all my strength to pull myself up to lean on my elbows. You never appreciate your flexibility only when one loses it!

The moment I got on my feet, Max returned. He tried to conceal his emotions, but I know him well enough to know he was very surprised.

“I was warned you way stronger than you look. I underestimated you, Mistress, my bad,” he bowed jokingly. “It was hard to find you, Mage Avis. I was not absolutely certain it was you, but you may thank your loyal pets, they helped a lot, even unwittingly. Don’t try to resist. It won't do you any good. I was ordered to bring you without injury. We don’t want to spoil this pretty dollface, do we?”

I know nobody will be able to hear me in the woods. My bag and the phone are on the back seat of the car. There are no proper sticks or stones on the ground to use them as a weapon.

A perfect place, I must say, dear Max!

Anger but not fear or fatigue was growing inside. I stood into a ready stance: one foot back with my hands came up in front of the face. I could use my elbows if he tried to catch me from the back; or I might reach for his groin with my knee; or do my heel palm to the face. I would rather die than let this maniac kidnap me or worse. I was not sure he could see my expression, for he sneered and headed to me with a resolute mien. The closer he was approaching to me, the more I was sure of myself. A feeling of excitement and anticipation filled my whole body and it needed a release. I starved for the fight. The moment he stretched his arm, all my energy and a strange desire to hurt him concentrated in my fingers and palms and gave the brightest wave of light. One second Max stood in front of me with puzzled face, the next second he was thrown away with my light. His body like a lifeless dummy crashed a thin maple limb, broke it in two, hit the ground, and remained there.

I was petrified and sweetly satisfied at the same time. Releasing the wave was as natural as breathing. Trembling of post-excitement, I ran up to the body. Не seemed dead, but I didn’t dare to check it out or touch him. I saw his red backpack under the bush. I grabbed it quickly and scurried away like a scared hare leaping sideways not to run into tussocks or roots.

I looked back. His car could be seen through the tree trunks. There was my gym bag and I might return to the body and get the car key from his pocket. No. I would spend too much time: he could come to his senses, and I didn’t think I could repeat my trick again. My fingers were trembling, and I exhausted my body. There was a chance he was not working alone; maybe those two were his henchmen. Max might have warned them and they could be on their way to help him. His car is not an option. I put my arms through the straps of his pack and hurried the opposite direction: away from the car, away from the body.