Chapter 32

One Fine Morning

Ding-Dong!

Brumhilda felt extremely seedy and well, also strangely happy in the streaming sunshine coming through the kitchen windows as she wandered around in Ralph's borrowed dressing gown slowly stirring the tea bag in her cup.

Ding-Dong!

'Was someone going to answer the door?'

She looked about in the quiet house but there was no one else.

It seemed she was the only one awake at this hour of the morning. She walked up to the front door. Still dipping her tea bag and still feeling only half awake she suddenly had a thought "Oh, gosh I hope it's not Ralph's parents," and with a tiny harumph in her throat, she warily reached up and pulled open the door.

Lisa was there and she was awfully wet...

It was a nice sunny, blue sky day as Lisa stood before Brumhilda on the patio dripping drops from her wet clothes, falling, dribbling away in between the dry cracks of the flat stones on the front porch. Lisa wiped her sodden sleeve over her forehead and said, "Mr Su's."

"Mr Su's?" inquired Brumhilda, "Yeah... he's gone... with Horatio and umm... Oh, perhaps another time, I need a rest." Her tired eyes looked at Brumhilda standing on the porch still dunking her tea bag in the early morning sunshine. Lisa grabbed the cup out of her hand, carefully removed the tea bag and plonked it down in Brumhilda's empty palm. Lisa then swigged the whole cup's contents down in one gulp and handed her back the empty cup and said to her bemused face, "Nice... What's for breakfast?"

It was later in the evening...

Lisa and Ralph were sitting on the couch down in Ralph's basement. He looked over at Lisa's frizzy golden curls and the face that seemed to be asleep and said, "I wonder what happened to Ivan and Brumhilda?" Lisa shrugged, yawned and said, "Brumhilda must have whisked him off back home." Ralph looked at Lisa, she cuddled up to him as he clicked on the TV remote. Immediately they were accosted by a loud, old-time movie theme that came roaring from out of the TV's speakers. Their faces were struck in horror when a black and white, old-time sailing ship faded in and filled the whole screen. Lisa quickly snatched the remote out of Ralph's stunned hand and turned it off. Ralph collapsed back into the cushion with a nervous sigh, "Yeah I think I've had enough of pirates to last for the rest of my entire life. She smiled at him and snuggled in close.

It was later that night...

There was someone sitting in the driver's seat of an old black sedan parked at the top of a blustery seaside clifftop.

The driver removed their black pointy hat and put it down on the front seat beside them. Brumhilda then made a swish of her long black hair and looked out over the ocean. She wondered for a moment about the image that had come into her mind. She had found herself picturing Ivan looking out of his little four paned glass window in his bedroom... It was just like the one... the window in her bedroom... and she wondered what if anything it meant. It was then she had remembered the conversation, the one she'd had with him on his front doorstep just a little while ago...

"You know we missed Halloween this year," he said. She turned slightly to look at him, "Did we...?"

Ivan laughed, "No I suppose not... well, not really."

She smiled at the memory with his voice lingering in her mind and then looked down from the windshield at her hands. They were rough, knarled and scratched, and she wondered for a moment if Lisa would know what to do with them. She harumphed to herself and reached for the cars steering wheel and was about to turn the key when a loud screech came echoing from across the ocean waters... then she saw them...

Three winged creatures were flying out there, wild and free, zooming and gliding in the evening moonlight air. She watched the three dragons, Horatio, Hubert and Horace as they flew silhouetted in the big yellow moon as it's fullness slowly sank into the moonlit ocean waves...

It was early next morning...

Brumhilda was staring at her calendar, pinned to her cottage door.

She suddenly grabbed a red felt-tipped pen and put a big red cross over the date of her birthday. She then went and grabbed a knife from her wooden kitchen draw, and reached across to the large orange pumpkin that was sitting on her kitchen stone bench. Halloween was past but she hadn't had time to do it before and she couldn't stand the thought of not having at least one pumpkin glowing about her cottage at this time of year. She shoved and levered the heavy pumpkin towards her. Then straddling her arm around the bright orange skin, with a zest, began to carve...

She said loudly to herself as she struggled with the knife, "Now I know why witches don't have birthdays." She stopped, leant back on the old wooden stool and laughed out loud for quite some long minutes. With tears dribbling down her cheeks from her manic outburst she let out a breathless sigh and then smiled... 'They're my good friends... best friends? ... And I guess there's always next year... well, just maybe...'

The End.