“We need to leave, I feel it in my gut.”

-Love That Lives

Dein roughly sanded down a spoon. He pushed his hair back bringing the spoon close to his face. Far too many places weren’t sanded, and was that an un trimmed bit of wood? He took a carving tool to it, but unsteady hands made him slip up. Dein sucked air through his teeth dropping the spoon into a pile of wood dust. A few bits of wood shavings flew into his face and hair. Coughing up bits that went in his mouth, he found a small strip of cloth to wrap his finger with.

He tried to breathe his way to patience, but failed. 

Sighing, he glanced at the clock while tousling his hair to get the wood bits out. Half past seven. Lips pressed together, he abruptly stood. The moment Sylva had stepped out of the house his heart began racing. No amount of even breathing calmed it. Scattered thoughts and shaky hands disturbed his workflow. 

        I should check on her.

Snatching his coat, he ran out of the house. Only a short distance down the road he came to an uncertain stop. Absolute silence. Where were the townsfolk? By this time of day everyone should be stirring, setting up business, or headed to pasture. Not even the scent of foul smelling fish, or fresh bread hung in the air…

Taking a few cautious steps forward, heartbeat drumming harder by the second, he kept his eyes peeled for any movement.

“DEIN!” Gladys, the baker’s wife– and town gossip, bustled out her home, children hanging in the doorway, “Tha’ girl of yours nearly pulled my babies and the other children in a lacuna with her. Just because-”

“With her?” Dein looked at her eyes wide, “What lacuna?”

“The lil murder-” The woman stopped when she saw the Dein’s expression. 

With a few swift steps, Dein was in her face. In a barely a civil tone asked, “Where’s my daughter?”

        The woman changed her tone immediately, all bluster gone, “H-how would I know?”

Dein shifted his eyes to the children behind her, “Where is she?”

The kids gulped and pulled back a few feet into the house. Dein moved Gladys to the kids. She pulled at his sleeves feebly while calling out for her husband. Dein roughly pulled his arm away.

“Glady, wha’s all the fuss?” Huxley, her husband, came downstairs, only seeing Dein when he reached the bottom. “I see, how can I help you?”

Dein watched only the children, “You know where she is, don’t you?”

The boy and girl looked anywhere besides Dein. 

Dein knelt in front of the kids, and with what patience he could muster asked, “Where’s Sylva?”

“We don’t know.” The boy said. The daughter nervously hid behind her brother, hiding her face. The boy looked away.

With a gentle, but firm hand on the boy’s head he made the kid look at him, “Where?”

Huxley snatched Dein by the collar, “Keep your hands off my family!”

        “I need to know where my daughter is!” Dein jammed an elbow into the crook of the Huxley’s arm and twisted him into an arm lock. “Tell me where she is or I’ll break your father’s arm!” 

Dein pulled Huxley's arm to make him let out a grunt. Gladys let out a dramatic wail, running to the door shouting for help.

“S-She fell into a big lacuna in the fields—D-down a slope!” The boy said eyes darting from Dein to his father, “Don’ hur’im”

Dein released the man and sprinted from the house. Those fields don't have slopes.

The streets were now full of curious eyes from Gladys’ wailing. He pushed past everyone, accidently knocking a few people over.

At the field’s edge he paused to figure out which way to go, but the tall grasses obscured his view. He frantically tried to pick a direction when someone tugged his sleeve. A little girl not much younger than Sylva. Her large eyes were full of fear.

“Are you looking for the ghos’?” She asked. Still out of breath Dein only managed a nod. She pointed somewhere further west, “Over there.”

“How- Nevermind, thank you.” Dein gasped out before sprinting off.

Muscles brutally burned from the run through sucking mud, but he made it to the slope. At the edge he peered down. Where? His eyes scanned the massive lacuna. Where!? Where is SHE?

He glimpsed her pale hair, the rest of her- Dein took off down the slope, tripping and tumbling most of the way down. His shoulder struck the lacuna hard, but at least he landed a mere few feet away from her. The pain seared through his arm and quickly spread across his body. 

Summoning every ounce of strength, he crawled over to Sylva’s lacuna covered body. Gritting his teeth, he pushed his arms into the lacuna to reach under her body. The pain tripled and he let out a grunt of pain, but quickly bit it back. The lacuna swallowed his arms, bits stretching and breaking in glops like glue as he lifted Sylva into his arms. He barely caught sight of what looked like a her shadow fall into the lacuna. He would need to think about that later. First, get out.

He staggered through the lacuna. His body twice as heavy with pain. The lacuna tried to consume him, but each step broke it's hold. The edge was only a few steps away! With the rest of his strength, he stumbled out of the lacuna to mud. His legs buckled and he fell onto his knees in the mud. The lacuna remnants immediately retreated from their bodies to it's mother mass. The stabbing pains immediately eased off. Dein gave himself a mere moment to recover, then clawed his way to level ground with Sylva cradled in one arm.

Now able to think, he pushed mud away from Sylva’s face. Please, not you too. Holding his breath, blinking away the welling tears, he held a finger just below her nose. Breathing. Two fingers by her neck. A pulse. A shuddering breath escaped him. He held her close, rocking back and forth, stifling tears.

“Is she okay?” The girl from earlier poked her head through the grass.

Smiling weakly through tears, he nodded. 

“I’ll tell the others!” The girl nervously said unable to look him in the eyes. She ran off toward town. 

Dein clambered to his feet, Sylva’s body limp in his arms. Nearly buried with mud rested the magnifying glass by the slope’s edge. He tucked it into a pant pocket. Dein would talk with the town later. First, Sylva needed him. 

***

Sylva stood up in the middle of a street. A big machine raced toward her. She scrambled out of the road. Heart racing she wildly looked around, but no one paid her any attention. A woman approached her. Sylva thought she wanted to check on her, but the woman passed through Sylva’s body– as though she were a ghost.

Alarmed Sylva called out, waved, even jumped into people’s path. Still no reaction. They walked through her, momentarily blinding her. She stumbled away finding herself backed against building. Am I actually in the city? It’s not going away like my visions…

People stared at lights hanging from metal poles. They watched them for a while, and when it changed from an oddly hand-like red picture to a human like white picture they crossed. The big machines liked to stop and watch the lights too but they preferred the circle shaped lights that had three colors. Red, yellow, and green. The machines yelled at each other with horns when the light turned green. Is that a signal to fight?

Sylva saw the metal cart that she often saw in her visions. Relieved to see a familiar object she hurried over. Now that she had time to get a good look at everything she could see the metal cart had pictures stuck all over it with numbers, and a man stood inside the cart where twisted breads came out from. The man didn’t see her—like everyone else. She wandered around the cart and found a half door leading inside.

She could touch objects in this world, but not people. Could she move objects? She wrapped her hand around the latch and turned it down. The door creaking open called the man’s attention. She froze. He approached her with an arched eyebrow. She thought she was finally seen, but he just reached for the door. After looking in either direction he pulled it shut.

Confused Sylva went to the door and opened it again. The man turned around irritatedly saying, “Aw, c’mon, I just fixed it last week!” 

He shut the door roughly and watched it with squinting eyes. Someone called out for something called a pretzel, so he returned to the window.

Sylva quietly opened the latch this time and entered. The smell of bread made her stomach growl and mouth water. She saw the twisty breads to the left of the man. He picked one up with metal claws and put it in a papery type bag. The person outside gave him green paper in exchange for for the food. 

They use paper for money? I have a  paper in my pocket…and it hasn’t even been written on yet. Sylva stood on tip toes to reach one of the twisty breads called pretzels.

Her fingers brushed against one making it swing on it’s rod. The man glanced at it, but shook his head and went about his work. Sylva reached again this time getting a firm grip and took the pretzel down. The warm smell of salt and yeast wafting up her nostrils, stomach growling once again. As she was about to take a bite, she froze. The man stared, mouth agape, at her. He pressed himself against the opposite side of the cart—which really only put four feet of distance between them.

Sylva, once again hopeful she asked, “Can you see me?”

The man clumsily pulled out a rectangle, tapped it a bunch of times with his fingers, then held up the rectangle in her direction. Sylva tilted her head, but shrugged off his weird response. She wanted to eat this pretzel, and if the man couldn’t help, then it was time to eat. Oh I have to pay. She put the paper on the counter where he could grab it and chomped down on her pretzel. That paper should be worth two pretzels.

Every time she took a bite, a strangled noise came from the man as he held the rectangle in shaky hands. Sighing she sat on the cart floor. His rectangle followed.

“Wait, you CAN see me!” Sylva said excitedly leaning forward. Again he stifled a horrified cry. Why’s he scared? 

Sylva waved the pretzel holding hand at him and he flinched, eye squeezed shut holding out the rectangle as far as he could. Sylva dropped the pretzel and took a few slow, cautious steps toward him moving around the rectangle. When he opened his eyes again he saw the pretzel on the floor then looked back and forth from his rectangle to the pretzel multiple times. A crazed chuckle slipped from his mouth while his eyes darted around nervously. 

Someone called out for something called a calzone. He tapped the rectangle, it beeped, and he shoved it in his pocket. While at the window he glanced over his shoulder a few times, but couldn’t see Sylva. Shoulders drooped, Sylva went to grab a new pretzel. As she walked away Sylva saw the man pull out his rectangle again with a startled yelp. She would have to find another way to communicate with people.

People stared as she strolled down the street. What’s with the rectangles? Everyone pulled out a rectangle and held them in her direction. Were they some kind of shield? They were too small for a shield though. Each one had a different pattern on it, and some had more tiny circles than others. Pouting her lip she hesitantly approached a woman with wavy, dark ginger hair. Others backed away, but this woman actually stayed put and stared harder at her rectangle.

“Can you hear me?” Sylva asked. The lump in her throat grew as her hope rose. The woman waved at her, but didn’t look away from the rectangle. Eyes going wide, Sylva waved back desperately.

The woman smiled, “Who are you?”

She’s talking to me! Sylva attempted to say her name, but no one heard. She had nothing to write with either. Sylva crouched down on the grey, hard ground and traced the letters of her name. When she finished, the woman frowned slightly. It was brief, but then the woman smiled, and said, “Hi Sylva.”

“What is it?” Someone else asked.

“I think it’s a ghost.” The woman said excitedly.

“Oooo, someone call an exorcist.” A teenage boy laughed. He hadn’t pulled out a rectangle.

An exorcist!? A ghost. I’m a ghost here too…maybe even more of ghost than back home. What would an exorcist do to me? Am I dead? Sylva took a nervous step back.

‘Wait, don’t leave.” The woman said reaching out hand.

Scoffing the teenage boy said, “Yo, who you talkin’ to lady? It’s just some gag for a reel. The pretzel's probably hanging from on one of those thin strings. Don’t be stupid.”

        "Do you SEE a string anywhere?" The woman retorted.

Sylva sprinted away. She came to the street where she had awoken and crossed without thinking. A big machine raced toward her, its lights blinding. The impact hurled her down the street. Her body rammed into a metal pole.

She sat up. That, didn’t hurt? Sylva inspected her body for any injuries. She looked around quickly. Of course no one stared at a ghost. She got to her feet, a bit shaky from fear, but otherwise intact. 

She scurried away to what looked like the opening of a cave. People came up and down the cave stairs endlessly. A loud rumbling and some kind of horn bellowed from it occasionally, but people weren’t scared. She ran down thinking it would be a good hiding place from the people who called her a ghost. She hadn’t seen them follow, but just in case they called an exorcist she should hide.

At the bottom of the steps were metal contraptions with metal tubes blocking the way through. Some people took out small paper rectangles and slid it through two smaller pieces of metal. Others pulled out their rectangle with tiny circled and hovered it over another glowing rectangle with letters on it. When it turned green it said go and the people would walk through the turning tubes. Sylva saw a door off to her right. Why don’t they just use this door? She didn’t bother reading the red sign. As soon as she opened it a loud alarm went off.

Sylva bolted through the door covering her ears. Follow the majority. Da isn’t here to help me…Why'd I have beg him to go out? If I wait, will Da show up?