A Psychopomp Wanders

The bell rung with a sweet toll as Melanie stepped into the cafe, which smelt faintly of sweat and espresso. The young woman scanned the cozy site, fidgeting with the keys in her hand until she thought she found the right group, 4 strangers settled into the couches towards the back, already giggling with books on their laps.

Melanie had found the book club flyer tapped to the wall of the cafe’s backroom 3 weeks ago, among the nail tech business cards and “drummer needed” pleas. Only now though did Melanie’s desperation for friends overpower her fear of embarrassing herself. She had friends, Melanie had good friends. Yet she still found herself alone most weekends, that gaping hole between herself and everyone around her had only grown after graduation.

Melanie found her legs moving before she’d planned to, the group had already noticed her entrance and had quieted down. She fiddled with her keys again before she spoke, “I saw the flyer, the one in the back, said you were having your meetings here from now on?” Melanie chattered, her eyes darted from each member’s eyes to the next.

There was a moment before the woman in the middle spoke, “Ah yes, we’re so happy to have a new member.” She gave a look to the person, lanky and bored looking, to her left before she continued. “I’m Evangeline,” Her voice was gentle yet striking. Melanie was reminded of the beauty of the deer that had attacked her uncle up north last year. “I started this little get together years ago, gods it's felt like decades really.” The man in the seat beside Evangeline’s couch rolled his eyes. Evangeline reached across and gently squeezed his knee. “Why don’t you introduce yourself, Mattias?”

After introductions, Melanie found herself squeezed next to Evangeline on the couch as the group swapped stories. She’d learned the lanky one next to her was Rino, who swore too much while recounting the mishaps at their teaching job. Beside Rino on a beanbag was Clara, on his third iced tea according to Evangeline’s comment. Clara spoke the least out of the group, but his face seemed to give all the opinions the others needed. Finally, there was Mattias. Melanie assumed Mattias was Evangeline’s boyfriend, judging by the way it seemed only she held his attention during discussion.

Despite the fervent talk, all the books were forgotten on their laps or the table. Melanie supposed this was more of a friend group she’d infiltrated than a real club, but she couldn’t find it in herself to take her chance to leave.

Hours floated by, every person seemed to have another story to tell after the last. Pictures of messy breakups, unheard of movies, beach days, and too much more dancing around Melanie’s mind from her new friend’s words. These people seemed like they had too many lifetimes to air out over coffee and tea. Melanie felt like a feather that found the right breeze, she’d found a familiar confidence among these friends, she fell into their rhythm like it was her own.

Normally, by now Melanie would back out. She’d remember the chasm Melanie could never fill that her relationships always halted at and excuse herself, too worn from years of failed bridges to try again.

Melanie was almost too bundled in the group’s warmth to notice how many of these tales didn’t line up with the modern day, but she couldn’t stop catching details. Mattias had mentioned his time in Venice but referred to a merchant as selling ottoman goods, Rino complained about “This new calculus thing” he’d been forced to teach last year, even Evangeline made a comment about missing corsets.

The topic changed once more and Melanie was ready to forget these jokes, she would let herself assume she was missing the titles to these far off books every time, when Evangeline spoke up, “Oh that reminds me of a few years back, I had this amazing dinner with that sparkling cousin of mine, I believe the first Suleiman was still on his throne? Hard to say though, all those sultans really flew by.”

Melanie couldn’t take it anymore. “What the hell are you talking about?” She blurted out, immediately it seemed the work paused. Even Clara stopped, his tea inches away from his face.

“What’s wrong, Mel?” Evangeline asked gently, Melanie couldn’t be bothered to care that she hadn’t even told these people her name this whole time.

“You just said you worked on Henry Ford’s assembly line.” Melanie snapped at Clara before she quickly turned to Mattias. “You keep talking about the Ottomans! The empire that fell in the 20s? And you!” She pointed a finger down at Evangeline. “Since when was the reign of Suleiman the Magnificent a few years back?”

There was a collective blink among the friends before they burst out in laughter, Mattias was the first to speak. “So you were telling the truth, Evi, she can’t remember a thing!” His face was red and tears breamed his eyes, which angered Melenie even more.

“Is this some kind of hazing?” She stood, now ready to leave, her face was red and hot.

Evangeline’s hand slipped into hers before Melanie could move though, “Darling, we’re sorry.” The woman’s smile almost completely cut through Melanie’s agitation. ”Please let us explain.”

Melanie sighed and sat down, though she didn’t like how easily she was comforted by the gentle one next to her.

Evangeline glanced at Clara, who decided to take the reins. “Melanie, we’re your friends.”

“I thought you were my new friends, yes but now it feels like this is a prank.” Melanie mumbled as she played with her keys again.

“This is all real, and we’ve always been your friends.” Clara glanced away, now noticed the cafe still frozen from their haste, he snapped his fingers and the buzzing of the afternoon continued.

Melanie made a sound like a croak, she hadn’t realized everything had actually stopped at her outburst, nor did she notice her hands were now empty until Clara raised one of her keys, the oldest and most rusted, now free from its ring. Melanie quickly tried to reach over, “Give that back, it was my-”

Clara caught Melanie’s wrist, “Your grandfather’s? No, Mel, it wasn’t.” Clara pushed Melanie’s arm away, making her elbow Rino, who didn’t seem to notice. “That’s what I made your father believe when he was chosen to be yours.” Clara crushed the key in his hand like an autumn leaf, sprinkling the crumbs into the open book in his lap.

Before Melanie could protest, a cold wave hit her heart. Bursting streams of light and sound overwhelmed her senses. Endless roads, down to a never ending swallow of darkness, too many feet slapping the ground. She was dying, Melanie could feel it, a million little cuts to her skin.

Melanie was hauled back to the present by Rino’s hands now enclosing her’s. Melanie blinked back tears as she remembered her first and longest life, Rino held her until she stopped shaking. Not only did she remember who, or rather what she was, she remembered her friends.

Mattias, the wanderer and lord of medicine, held hands with Evangeline, love herself, each gazed at her with hope. Rino’s thumb rubbed gentle circles into her hand, like they’d done when the first story was told all those millennia ago. Dear Rino had held her hand the same way before that, when she guided their first creation, the first human being, down into the new paradise she’d forged for all generations of Rino’s masterpiece, the human race.

Clara, the father, the mother, the parent of all life including her own, examined Melanie’s face. “We’ve missed you, Melsie.”