Peter Wood stepped carefully around a construction site, clutching a lunch-box close. His bright brown eyes scanned the area around, no sign of his dad.
He stopped a large, husky voiced man with white hair and a mustache. “Sir, I’m looking for Andrew Wood.”
“I haven’t seen him, your daddy hasn’t been in since yesterday. If or when you find him, tell him that he’s late.”
“Yes sir, thank you though.” He kept walking, soon he’d been all around the site.
He walked back to his apartment that he stayed in with his dad and his girlfriend, very slowly at first, but soon sped up.
They always expected dinner done when they got back from work and counted on him to do it.
Peter made his way into the kitchen, and was just setting out the sausage and eggs when he heard a loud knock at the door.
There was a tall, dark skinned man with a Navy-blue suite and a blue and grey tie. He knocked again.
“Who are you?”
“None I’ve ever met.”
“Let me in.”
“No. I don’t let strangers in here.” Peter smoothed back his short, light brown hair. “Go away. Come back in about three hours, then you can talk to my dad. Goodbye, sir.”
Peter closed the peephole, then rested against the large, heavy door. Another knock. “I told you to leave.”
“What? It’s me, Lilly Ratchet.” He opened the door, letting her in.
“Sorry, a guy came up a minute before you did and wanted to come in.”
“Ok, it’s fine. Need help cooking?”
“I’m not that bad at it.”
“Don’t lie to yourself, you’re better at drawing then cooking. Why don’t you just help me cook, Donna sent me here to help.”
Peter nodded, then went back to the kitchen. “We’re making breakfast burritos.” After they had finished, they sat on the couch with their sketchbooks and pencils.
“Why are you so pale? Well… Paler than usual, is something wrong?”
“Just this thing… Don’t worry about it.” Lilly’s dark auburn hair was a little past her shoulders, her dark blue-green eyes darted around like a scared rabbit’s.
Her sketchbook showed a tall man, dressed in red and black.
“I don’t know. Just someone from a nightmarish dream.
” The face of the man sketched was a smudge, around him were the words: Dunkel, Kalt, Allein, Einfrieren, Blut, Rot, Fünfzehn, and Höllenfeuer.
There were more blank spaces where more words could’ve been.
“It’s German.” Peter said, tapping the page. “Dark, cold, alone, freezing, blood, fifteen, and Hellfire.” Lilly closed her sketchbook, and handed it to Peter.
“Just look through this and maybe you’ll get an idea of what it is.” Her voice was shaky and small.
Looking through it, pictures of medieval knights, townsfolk, elves, wizards, a king, a prince, and monsters with fire coming out of their eyes or mouths, and the same man who she was drawing.
“How long have you been drawing this stuff?”
“Since I moved in with my Grandma and Papa, a year ago.”
Peter stopped, then opened his notebook to a picture of a man dressed in black, red, and gold and was sitting on a throne.
The words: Güterzug, Vertassen, and Tot; Freight Train, Abandoned, and Dead. The rune for Thor was on the bottom of his page, her page had none.
“Do you have a rune on any of your pictures?” He asked, going through the rest of his pictures.
“This one, it’s the rune of Loki, and I have an infinity knot here on my neck.” She took off her choker, tattooed Tiwaz, Thurisaz, and Algiz was on the side of her neck.
She handed a ripped out page of creatures from her notebook, in the center was Loki’s rune.
“In all the years I’ve known you… When did you get that?”
“Dad, Mom, and I got matching ones so we know and remember that none of us are alone. I was about twelve.” She stuffed the choker in her sweater pocket.
“It’s normally covered with cover-up or a sweater neck, or sometimes a choker.”
“That explains why I never noticed it.” He took out a stone ring. “It’s a Fehu, luck and foresight rune.” Slipping it back into his pocket, he checked the time. 6:35 PM.
“We should probably go eat dinner soon.”
“Yeah, it’s getting a little late.” Lilly got up, bony, pale hands swiftly gathered the sketchbook, pen, pencil, and bag.
“Are your Grandparents home?”
“My Grandma is, Papa’s out on a business trip. Do you want to come over for dinner? We’ve got plenty, there’s always leftovers.”
“Sure.” He scribbled a note, saying that he’s eating dinner somewhere else and will be back soon.
Lilly led the way to her grandparent’s house. As Peter walked in, the smell of homemade food and the crisp smell of ginger waved over him, just like when his mom was alive.
“Grandma! I’m home, and brought Peter, just how you asked.” A small, tan, bent old woman came down the stairs, holding sketchbooks and old, leather bound books.
Lilly went up and helped carry some of the books, Peter stood in the doorway, as if he was waiting to be invited in.
“Come in, Peter, I’m Lilly’s grandmother.” Her smile was warm and welcoming.
“Hello, Mrs. Oliver.”
“Look at that, Lilly! The first one who got it right! Come in, child, stop standing out in the cold.” Peter hurried in, closing the door behind him.
“Just in time for dinner, I have some things that you two may like to look through.”
“Grandma… Did you look through my things?” Lilly stared hard at the little woman.
“Yes, dear, and I have a solution for those dreams. Lilly, don’t stare, it’s rude. Close that trap of yours, Peter, a fly will land in there.”
“Just call me Granny, all children do.”
“Now, into the kitchen with you both. Wash off that charcoal from your hands, then sit at the table while I get the food served out. Go on, now. Shoo!”