baseball or soccer, however.
“Baseball is not a sport,” was all Elsa could muster as she sampled another dumpling. “There is no blood involved.”
Changing the subject seemed like the best idea. “Tell me about being a fairy, Lily.”
Lily put down the container of garlic green beans. “What do you want to know?”
“Why do you work in the library?” was my first question, followed by “Where is your family and what kind of powers do you have?”
“I come from a clan of fairies that has always lived in the human world,” Lily said. “We’ve dedicated our lives to public service. Although we make visits to the Other Side, we mostly stay in this world. I’m one of a long line of librarians. And yes, I have added a little magic to the library system. Who would return to a library if it never had the book you wanted? Having a well-run, popular library system is good for San Francisco.”
“Why libraries?”
Lily finished chewing before she spoke again. “Because fairies are voracious readers of books and texts in many languages. Working in a library affords us the luxury of being surrounded by words and information. There is no better way to learn about humans, and the world in general, than to work in a library.”
“What does that have to do with public service?” I asked, putting another dumpling on my plate.
“That is easy,” Lily said. “Libraries are important for humans. In the human world, being able to read is the key to all of your activities. It’s pretty clear that the less people know, the worse their fate is. Allowing people to have access to the same kinds of information for free is important. When people are uneducated it …well, it creates opportunities for others to manipulate the situation.”
Elsa snorted. “Humans want to be controlled; they appreciate limited choices.”
I decided to ignore Elsa’s pointed remark for the moment. “Tell me about the rest of your family.”
“Everything you know, the story I’ve told you, is true. My father and mother are retired, but did work as librarians. They do live in San Jose. My sister really lives in Seattle and my brother really lives in Portland. He’s a firefighter, but that’s rare; normally we’re terribly afraid of fire.”
“And your powers? What kinds of things can you do?”
“I’m not a circus act,” Lily said, again sounding slightly annoyed. “I don’t do tricks.”
“I’m sorry, Lily. That came out badly.”
Elsa placed herself into the conversation and turned to me. “I think we need to focus our energies on freeing up your gifts.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“I have to run an errand,” she said, “but tomorrow we’re going out on an overnight adventure.”
“Overnight? Are we camping?” I asked, wondering what destination she had in mind.
“You could say that,” she said with a smile. “I need to leave in a few moments to look for some supplies. Assuming I’m successful, we will leave here tomorrow night after sunset.”
“Where are you going? And how will you get there?” I asked casually, not expecting the reply I received.
Elsa looked at Lily when she spoke. “I travel using a portal in the park.”
“Can I come tomorrow?” Lily asked.
Elsa nodded. “Yes, it will be better if there are two of us.”
“What’s a portal?” I asked, worried.
Lily and Elsa exchanged knowing glances. “It will be better if we show you,” Elsa said.
“OK,” I said, feeling relieved to avoid, if temporarily, yet another hidden detail about the world I’d missed. Lily and Elsa left the house in unison and I watched as they walked down the street together into the night’s thick fog. One minute I could see them very clearly, and the next, they were gone.
****
CHAPTER 8
For the first time in many days, I woke up alone in the house. I confess I missed my roommate, or at least I missed the feeling of having someone nearby. I don’t have a great track record with men. There have been no great romances in my life. Instead, I have amassed a collection of single-night memories. To be sure, there have been a few multi-week excursions, but they never transformed themselves into repeat engagements.
It would be nice to feel great passion for someone, to feel my body long for another with every fiber of my being. But that has not been a sensation I’ve experienced. Perhaps watching my mother come unraveled has made me timid. From where I sit, spilling over with emotion looks messy, and if unreciprocated, humiliating. As a result, the only