Ophelia

Elena added the last book to the display window and allowed her attention to drift out the large glass panes. The sky sparkled a glorious gemlike blue. Her brows crinkled as she spotted an unfamiliar young girl walking down the street.

“Do you recognize her?” Elena asked Frieda, the owner of Hamish’s Bookstore. Frieda’s gray hair was perched in a lopsided bun and a beige cardigan hung on her slim frame.

Frieda shrugged. “I’ve never seen her.”

They lived in a small town, the kind of place where everyone knew everybody. Elena watched the small girl continue down the street, her footsteps taking her past Rita’s Dinner, River’s Bend Gifts, Griff’s Hardware store, and Kline’s Insurance. An unkempt cream-colored dress fell below the girl’s knees and dark stockings covered her legs. Small hands dropped from beneath long sleeves. Her blonde hair hung limp around her narrow face. She turned onto Forest Street.

“Maybe the Smith’s finalized the adoption they were talking about,” Frieda said.

Elena smoothed the pleats of her plaid wool skirt. Gold earrings swayed beneath her dark long hair. “They did yesterday. It’s a boy.”

“Tourist’s kid maybe.”

“We don’t get much of those here.”

“You never know.” 

Elena supposed Frieda was right. Sometimes people did show up, seeking an escape from the city, but they usually drove through without stopping, unless they needed gas.

“She could have strayed from her parents if they stopped at the gas station,” Elena reasoned.

“There you go.” Frieda’s footsteps creaked across the wooden floorboards as she moved around the counter. She picked up a box cutter and sliced into cardboard.

Elena walked forward to help. The smell of new books wafted into her nose and she tried not to sigh in content. Books, everything about them, from the smell of new pages to the magnificent stories between their beautiful covers, were her favorite thing in the world. She was working on writing a novel of her own. She had high hopes for it, someday.

The morning passed quietly, as it usually did on a weekday. A few elderly people shuffled through, including Mr. and Mrs. Nickels, bundled up in wool jackets.

“How are you today, Mrs. Nickels?” Elena asked.

Mrs. Nickels wrinkled face spread into a grin. “Lovely, thank you Elena.”

Old Vic stepped passed Mrs. Nickels. “Excuse me,” he said down his long nose, in a bored tone. She shuffled out of the way.

Elena sighed. Mrs. Nickels was treated like an outsider, even after residing in River’s Bend for thirty years. The town didn’t take well to newcomers. Elena wished it would. The town was dying and needed fresh blood. Too many people her own age had fled to the cities. Sometimes she felt foolish for returning to such a town after she completed her English degree at University, even if it was where she grew up. She supposed she still could leave. She was only in her mid-twenties.

“Your favorite customer is back,” Frieda said, emerging from her office with a stack of books.

Elena looked to where Frieda gestured and snorted. “Most difficult customer.”

Caspian Jacobs, an executive at Kline’s Insurance. Young, handsome, with dark rimmed glasses sliding down his nose. He came to the shop at least once a week during his lunch break and dropped frequent complaints on the lack of book selection. He had inherited a home from a deceased aunt he had never met and had taken up work at Kline’s. It was a rare individual who chose to move to River’s Bend.

“Most reliable customer,” Frieda countered.

Elena grudgingly agreed. He was good for one or two books a week. A sale was a sale. She allowed a smile to part her mouth and approached Caspian, as she would any customer. She welcomed anyone who came into the shop like they were a guest in her home. “Do you need help finding anything today?”

He straightened from his crouched position. “No, I already see you don’t have what I’m looking for. No matter, I’ll find something else.”

“I can offer recommendations if you need one.”

“Thanks, but I’m going to look back here.”

He strolled down the narrow aisle and Elena turned away. He frequented the store and she spoke to him every week, but he still acted as if they were strangers. Most people picked up an easy rapport with her after one or two visits to the bookshop.

Elena returned to the counter, checking out the Nickel’s, and then the store was quiet, nearly empty. Before long, Caspian was at the counter with a book and Elena rung it up. A lengthy horror novel.

“You know we can order any book you would like,” Elena said, sliding the book across the counter into Caspian’s waiting hands. “And we welcome suggestions for authors to carry.”

“If I wanted to order a book, I would do so online.” He glanced down at the book and returned his eyes to hers. “Thank you.”

He turned on his heel and fast walked towards the door.

“See you next week,” Elena called after him, annoyed.

He cast a furtive look over his shoulder and carried on.

*

The next week, the child was back. She stood staring at Hamish’s. She wore the same faded cream dress as before. The temperature had dipped and dark clouds hung overhead. Elena had thought the weatherman had said the sun would be out, but she supposed she misheard.

“I think the girl is homeless,” Frieda said, following Elena’s gaze. “I’ve caught glimpses of her around town the last few days.”

“Me too. She can’t remain outside. It’s freezing.”

“I can call the police. Human services. She needs help.”

“She should come inside.”

“Elena,” Frieda reached out, gripping her arm. “You have a big heart, but we don’t know anything about her. It’s best to let the proper people take care of it.”

Elena didn’t know why, but the thought of the girl being driven off in a police car or the shiny suburban of a DHS representative unnerved her. It shouldn’t, but it did. And she had known the police chief her entire life. He was a good man in his late fifties and great with kids. DHS people dealt with these issues frequently. Why then, did she feel so uneasy about Frieda calling them?

She couldn’t place it. “Let’s talk to her first. Perhaps she is interested in a book.”

“Where are her parents then?”

Elena didn’t have an answer. “We need to help her. We can’t do nothing.”

Elena rushed outside and started yelling. Her breath fogged the air. “Come inside! Little girl!”

The girl’s attention dropped from the upper story windows of Hamish’s to Elena’s waving arms. She turned and began walking away.

“We’ll help you,” Elena shouted. “Come inside! It’s too cold out here.”

The girl ignored her. Elena was about to run after her but stopped herself. She couldn’t chase a young child down the street. How would that look to the people already casting curious looks out shop windows? More importantly, it would make the child more afraid. Elena watched the girl disappear down Forest Street. She turned around and Caspian was standing outside the bookshop, watching her, brown hair ruffled by wind. The cold colored his pale cheeks faint pink, as it did hers.

“Were you trying to talk to the mystery kid?” Caspian said. Despite the temperature, he wore no jacket, other than his suitcoat. A couple cars drove past, tainting the air with car exhaust.

“Do you know anything about her?” Elena crossed her arms, the cold seeping through her sweater. She had mentioned the girl a few times over the last week, but no townsperson had seemed willing to talk much about her. She was an oddity, they said. They hoped she was passing through and would be gone soon. Someone cheekily said she was a wood sprite.

He shook his head. “I’ve seen her pass by Kline’s a few times over the past week. She sat on the doorstep and Jenner shooed her away.”

“I saw the same thing happen at Griff’s. Mrs. Emerson came out, spoke to her, and then the girl darted off as if spooked. I didn’t think Mrs. Emerson would be cruel to a child.”

His mouth curled in a bitter smile. “I didn’t expect that kind of behavior from Jenner. He’s got three kids. But business is business, and the town hasn’t exactly been adding numbers. No one wants anything to jeopardize a sale or a contract.”

“I want to help her. Frieda thinks we should leave it up to the authorities.”

“You’re probably the only one in this town who is willing to help.”

She raised a brow. “You wouldn’t?”

“I wouldn’t know what to do.” He glanced at his watch and moved passed her into the bookshop. Elena followed, feeling blissful as she returned into the warm air of the shop, but she stopped as she was closing the door. The girl was back and was walking towards her. Droplets of cold rain began to fall in a soft drizzle.

Elena opened the door wider and gestured for the child to come inside. She didn’t speak this time, concerned perhaps her shouting had scared the girl initially.

The girl stopped outside the door, studying Elena with round blue eyes. Her hair was growing damp from the rain. Elena smiled, kind and welcoming, even though by the way the girl was staring at her, she wanted to back away. If she looked at people like that, Elena reasoned, she could see why people didn’t want to help her, but she was still a child.

The girl entered and Elena shut the door. Only Frieda and Caspian remained in the store. As a downpour began, Elena figured they wouldn't have more customers, until the rain let up.

The girl’s wet boots squeaked across the floorboards. As she reached towards a book with fingers slicked by rain, Frieda flinched from behind the counter. The girl must have sensed Frieda’s look and dropped her hand. She gazed around the shop instead. Warm wood shelves were spread into four neat aisles. The shop was longer than it was wide. Log beams held up the ceiling. A counter containing the register and a selection of bookmarks was against the right corner. Elena thought the shop was cozy.

“Paper towels,” Elena said. Frieda nodded and returned with a stack.

Elena bent and carefully took the girl’s hands, wiping them dry. “What’s your name? Do you want us to call someone?”

She stared up at Elena. “Ophelia.” Her voice was dry and reedy. Almost breathless. 

Elena almost sighed in relief. She had been nervous the child wouldn’t speak. “Ophelia is a pretty name. Where are you parents?”

Ophelia looked at Elena vacantly, as if the word parent held no meaning.

“I’m calling the police,” Frieda said.

“Frieda!” Elena started, but Frieda had closed her office door.

Thunder rumbled outside and lightning splintered the air. Wind ripped at the flag waving outside. Elena had Ophelia sit on the low bench at the end of an aisle and tried to open Frieda’s door. It was locked.

She turned, shaking her head, and Ophelia was gone. She was panicked for a moment, until she heard voices. She walked around the aisle and found Ophelia with Caspian.

Ophelia pushed a book into his hand. “Read, please.”

He narrowed his brows, but complied, beginning to read a picture book about cats. His voice, a low and steady lull. Elena moved away before Ophelia or Caspian could spot her. Ophelia seemed content, so Elena had time to deal with Frieda. She pounded on the door, but Frieda refused to come out.

Elena sighed and leaned against the counter. The rain had intensified. Wind lashed at the building. The roof creaked. Ophelia and Caspian rounded the corner. She was chewing on a packet of crackers Caspian must have had in his pocket.

“She has to go,” Frieda said, emerging from the office. “The police are patrolling outside of town and are having a hard time returning. A lot of downed trees with the storm. They said I could leave her at dispatch.”

Elena had a sick thought of Ophelia being swept into a cold police station. “She’s staying with us until we figure out what to do.”

“I have figured it out. The police will take care of it.”

“Frieda!” Elena couldn’t believe Frieda could be so insensitive. It wasn’t like her.

“It wasn’t supposed to rain. It was supposed to be sunny and warm the past seven days, but it hasn’t. The weather’s been cold and stormy since she came to town.”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

A branch suddenly flew through the front display window, scattering glass shards. One of them lodged into Frieda’s arm. Cold wind blew through the window, flipping pages of books, swinging the overhead lights.

“It’s her! She is causing this,” Frieda shouted, ignoring the blood running down her sleeve.

“It’s a storm,” Caspian said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s not unusual.”

“Calm down, Frieda,” Elena said. Ophelia gripped her hand, frowning.

“No,” Frieda growled. She stormed towards Ophelia and grabbed her arm. She gave a violent tug, her teeth gritted, and her eyes narrowed to slits. Caspian jumped to his feet and launched himself at Frieda, knocking her away from Ophelia. Frieda screamed. Elena stared horrified. She had never seen Frieda act in such a manner. She wasn’t acting like Frieda at all, as if some stranger had taken hold of her body.

She unfroze when Frieda started pounding her fists against Caspian’s back as he moved her towards the door. Elena yanked the door open, helping Caspian shove Frieda through. She slammed the door closed and locked it.

“What has gotten into her?” Elena asked, clutching her hands together.

“What has gotten into everyone?” Caspian pointed out the broken window. People had poured out of each building onto Main Street. She spotted Jenner punching the hood of a suburban. Mrs. Emerson ran at Julie Ham from Rita's, fists raised. People tossed rocks through shop windows and used glass shards as weapons. Frieda was in the mix, running her nails down the arm of Old Vic.

It was pure insanity and the storm raged on. Lightning illuminated drenched people attacking each other with a madness Elena had never witnessed. These people were hurting family, friends, people they had known their entire lives.

Elena and Caspian dragged Ophelia behind a bookshelf at the back of the shop. The roar of the wind continued. Elena tried to calm down, her mind tumbling. Seeking explanations, finding none.

“What do we do?” Caspian asked. “Are we going to be like that?”

Elena shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“This is madness. My car is across the street. We can take Ophelia and escape.”  

“We wouldn’t make it.” It was as if the entirety of the town had flooded main street. “Nothing like this has ever happened here. Until…” her gaze dropped to Ophelia. Ophelia who was silent, eyes wide and vacant. A thought dawned on Elena. “They didn’t welcome Ophelia. Frieda didn’t. None of them did, except us.”

He followed the thread. “They wouldn’t welcome her, so she’s made everyone angry and violent. She wants them to feel hurt and upset. How she feels.”

Elena nodded. “It’s crazy. It can’t be.”

“It’s an explanation for why everyone else is going nuts and we’re not.”

Elena crouched by Ophelia, taking the trembling girl into her arms. “Ophelia, you have to stop this. It’s you, right? Causing the storm. Making people violent?”

Ophelia simply stared over her shoulder.

“They weren’t kind to you,” Caspian said. “They cared more about money than a kid who needed help. They’re flawed, but it doesn’t mean they need to tear each other apart.”

“We helped you. I welcomed you into Hamish’s. I tried to keep you warm. Caspian read to you and offered you food. You can’t destroy this town. It’s our home.”

Ophelia frown deepened, her eyes becoming lighter.

“Let go of the anger,” Caspian pleaded.

“We’re your friends,” Elena said. “Listen to us.”

Ophelia shook her head and Elena looked at Caspian helplessly as chaos continued outside the shop. What more could they do?

“Mother,” Ophelia said, reaching out and gripping Elena’s hand. Elena tried not to flinch from her iron grip.

“Father.” Ophelia grasped onto Caspian’s hand.

“I’m not –,” Caspian began, before Elena shushed him. If this parody of a family was what Ophelia needed, if it could calm the rage running rampant, they could allow Ophelia’s fantasy to play out.

“Darling daughter,” Elena said.

She gestured at Caspian with her eyes, sliding a look from him to Ophelia.

“Our Ophelia.”

Ophelia exhaled, as if she had found peace, and the swirling storm dissipated. The town’s people collapsed to the ground. The wind ceased, and silence descended over main street.

Elena dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around Ophelia. The girl sunk into her embrace and then pulled back, her expression one of confusion.

“Who are you?” she said. “Where is my mom? Daddy? Where are they?”

Elena stood up and looked from Caspian to Ophelia. The girl seemed deflated, a husk of what she had been. Elena didn’t know how to comprehend it, how to understand what had happened.

She felt suddenly wobbly. She thought the world was going to tilt from beneath her, but then Caspian’s hand slid into hers. Something real she could cling to, steadying her. He offered her a smile.

She squeezed his hand and glanced at the girl before her. She heard sirens in the distance. A warm breeze drifted through the bookshop. The sun was rising, and people were picking themselves off the ground. She didn’t understand what had happened, but she believed they had saved the town.