Sophia caught me just as I was closing up shop. Seeing I was fine, it put her at ease. Cleverly enough, she disguised her concern as a checkup on my fever, as there were still guests around the shop to hear us. All she needed was a quick yet thorough examination of my face, then she was off to the next subject, already gauging my interests and arranging the details for my visit to her flat. I couldn’t quite give her a date yet, but I committed to visiting her eventually, sometime this summer. I truly was grateful for the efforts she took. She was a chatty one, but at least she veiled her words well.
I returned home on a good note, ready to face what I knew was coming. Just before the path broke out, I came to a stop under the shade. Orbs of light floated around me, ginning up my composure. Chorus of crickets built up my confidence, like the cheers of a parade. Taking a deep breath before moving forward, I thought of what I would say. I expected the spirit girl to be back. Perhaps naively, in a rash swing of character, I was ready to forgive her. An honest mistake, I presumed. She was probably unaware that hiding on the rooftop was not good enough. As long as she learns from this and promises to do better, I will forgive her.
Entering the glade, I did not see her. At the doorsteps, she still did not appear. Without much thought, I went inside and prepared supper. Just a simple porridge this time, with rice and potatoes. I considered adding in some egg as well, maybe a little beef, but I could not recall, in that moment, whether she ate meat. Instead, I chopped up another potato into small pieces and cobbled them in with the rest. I gathered Alice would be hungry tonight. She ate supper quite early yesterday evening, and likely did not have anything substantial to eat since.
Focused on reflecting the events of my day, it felt like the porridge was done in no time. I gave it one final stir, then took it off the stove. Thinking I must have missed her soft knocks to the bubbling pot, I slid open the back door to take a look. I did not find her there. Just the drifting orbs of glowing light. The sun was steep, the shadows already growing long. Stepping barefoot out onto the porch, I turned around and gazed up at the roof. She was not there either. After a thorough glance around, I decided to call out her name. The name I had given her. I did so twice, and still she did not show up. She was being careful this time. Or she was not close by yet. Oh well. She can take her time. I returned indoors, leaving only the screen door closed, and enjoyed supper alone.
Thinking about it, it had been a bit since the last time I had an evening to myself. I read the day’s paper, frequently breaking to swallow a spoonful of hot porridge. I prepared it well today, the fluffy texture melting the remaining chunks in my mouth. After a hot and humid afternoon, there was now a pleasant breeze to fan my sticky skin. After finishing, I leaned back in my chair and read the rest of the interesting columns I found. There was no one to watch me. No one to distract me. No one to watch over.
Without anyone else in my presence, I lost myself to my leisure. It wasn’t until I got up to tidy the table when I remembered the spirit girl. Glancing outside, the sun was gone. Alice was not there. After washing the dishes, I checked again. Still, she was nowhere to be found. Drying my hands with a rag, I stayed at the door a little longer, staring into the dark. Listening to the forest. Waiting for nothing particular. I wiped my forearms with the wet side of the cloth. It was certainly one of those days I needed to wash myself. I felt disgusting in my clothes. Though, I was afraid I would miss the spirit girl while I was bathing. Ah, but I did not want to do so too close to bedtime. I needed ample time to dry my hair. In the end, that rationale won out, and I went upstairs.
As I thoroughly rubbed myself with soap, I remembered the cut on my finger and checked it. All that was left was a tiny sliver. It recovered quite quickly, no longer stinging. Still, I took care to avoid it, as I did not want to accidentally tear it open. It was a bit annoying to wash myself this way, as if I were missing a finger. But, with a final rinse and wipe-down, I got around it.
Returning downstairs, renewed and refreshed, the table was still empty. Outside, it was still just the glowing orbs. No trace of the girl. No silhouettes in the outskirts of the glade. She was nowhere to be found.