Patience, Grasshopper

Chapter 13

I manage to wake up with full recollection of what I've dreamt about. I'm filled with sadness and anxiety as I try to process. The clock reads 10:45am. Only 15 minutes before book club. I jump out of bed and rush to get dressed before rushing out the door. Luckily, the meeting spot is only at the café just up the street. 

After tossing on some athleisure and semi brushing my teeth, I rush out the door. A brisk walk allows me to make it with just enough time. Upon arriving, I greet everyone before taking a seat in the far back. The meeting has just began. 

Today's selection is about an unlikely friendship that took place during World War 2. I do not have the book so I cannot read along.

 At the café section of the store, I see a man flipping through a book. He has large black headphones on, with damp hair. I noticed him brush his hair back with his fingers, like he was stressed. Or possibly looking for something particular.  

Suddenly, I hear a voice whisper "Page 117." I continue to stare at the man as he angrily rummages through a series of books. Compelled, I get up and excuse myself from the book club before walking up to the man. 

 "Excuse me." I interrupt. He looks up defensively before removing one side of his head phones from his ear. He waits for me to summarize the purpose of me approaching him.

 "I hope you don't find this strange. But by any chance, could what you're looking for be on page 117?" The man raises an eye brow before looking down in a mocking manner. "117 in which book?" I look down and notice a minimum of 10, large volume books on the table. My eyebrows furrow as I realize I hadn't thought this through in full. The man looks away and scoffs. 

 Suddenly, one of the book options manages to catch my attention. I point to it. The boy shakes his head and chuckles before opening the book and flipping to 117. He reads a few sentences before his eyes widen. Then he slams the book shut and begins putting away the books he gathered except the one I pointed out. I step aside and watch from afar. Unsure if I should let him be or wait for him to settle. 

 He notices my dilemma and returns beside me once more.

  "How on earth did you do that?"

 "Just a hunch" 

 "What are you, a witch?"

For some reason, his questioning created fury in me. Luckily, I was able to restore my calm just in time to end the conversation. 

 "I'm glad you found what you needed. Good luck with everything."

 The man watches me walk away with suspicion. He doesn't break eye contact until I'm outside. I decide to head back home. It's still early. I take some time to study the tell tale signs of a witch. After reading the article, I feel disconnected from myself.

Suddenly, a bird pops up near the window again. This time, it's beak is poking at the window pane. I open the window to let the bird in when it transformed into a rather large looking humanoid with feathered wings. I could not believe my eyes, stepping back in amazement.

 "Hello Diana, nice to finally get acquainted with you. I'm Raphael."

I am too stunned to respond.

 "I'm sure you'll have a million and one questions once the excitement dies down." He winks at me. 

"For now, I will do most of the talking." My eyes widen, too enamored to speak but also, too afraid that remaining mute will cause the encounter to end sooner than I'd like. I finally have the words to respond. "This is incredible." 

 Raphael smiles before returning to a more neutral disposition. "In regards to your earlier assumptions, no. You're not a witch. There's a lot more going on than you and others may understand at this time. But I'm here to help you on your journey towards discovery." 

 I begin to grow confused, making me a bit bolder. "What exactly is going on then? Surely you're here to provide me with some answers?" He studies me carefully, his expression seems concerned. 

"In due time you will learn all that you need to know from your appointed Guardian. That's not quite my role sister"

 "So what is your role?" He chuckles and tilts his head to the side, the way an adult looks at a child that couldn't get a concept no matter how hard they tried. 

"Pack some clothes and a couple of snacks. Be ready by noon tomorrow. We will be going on an important trip."

"Wait, what do I tell my family?"

"Leave a note. Tell them you will be staying with a precious friend during a period of bereavement."