"Darling," mother called to me in her sing-song voice as I came in through the mudroom door.

"Yes Mother?" I replied straight away while hanging up my cloak and bending down to unlace my boots.

"Darling, don't get undressed."

I left my partially untied laces and stood up to peak through the door into the kitchen. Mother was walking briskly toward me with a smile on her sainted face.

"What is it Mother?" I asked, curious to know why I was not to come in.

"Your aunt Emmi came by this afternoon. She has asked that you would come right away."

Mother reached out with both hands to take my face in them and to place a kiss upon my lips. She smiled warmly and her dark brown eyes held much love for me and, perhaps, just a dash of amusement. Whether she was amused by me or the aunts I could not readily say.

"You should hurry dear."

I gave her a grin and then bent down to re-lace my one partly undone boot. I loved to visit the aunts and I was particularly fond of being summoned urgently. My two aunts were always up to some mischief and I did sorely love to be a part of whatever nonsense they were getting into.

Grabbing my cloak, I fastened it around my neck and waved goodbye to my mother as I stepped out the mudroom door and into our little courtyard littered with hens. The hens scattered to the four winds as I took off at a run through the yard while gathering up my ankle length skirts and leaping over the little gate that lead out onto the public road. I paid the hens no mind. They would settle in again just as soon as I'd gone. 

Once on the road I struck out for Draper's field. It would take me almost half an hour to walk to my aunts' if I stuck to the main road, but only half that time if I cut across the field not far from home. Eager to know what the aunts had found, I got a running start.

These were my father two elderly aunts who lived together in a two-story stone cottage by the seashore on the outskirts of the village. They were the sweetest and silliest creatures that ever were. And they had two great loves - adventure and treasure.

I remember going on endless excursions with them as a child. They would often take me in a little paddle boat not fit for the sea and we would scull our way along the coastline looking for pirate ships and sunken treasure. Or, they would find a map stuffed in an old chest and convince me that it lead to riches right in the little woods beside their home where we three would strike off to find the spot marked X. On rainy days they would take me up to their dusty little attic and we would go through all the trunks – those great and those small – looking for a long forgotten fortune in gems, coins and bobbles.

The truth was, since I was a tiny little tot, my two aunts had spent most of their free time looking for treasures only their imaginations could conjure up.  There was never a dull moment to be had with them and even though I was no longer a girl anymore, I had not lost the wonder they had instilled in me all those years treasure seeking.

Of course, they made a treasure out of everything that washed up on the shore. And, they hung their finds from an old apple tree at the edge of the cottage. The tree, whether in summer or winter, sparkled in the sun and chimed in the wind like some fantastic fairy dwelling - something only seen in children's tales. It was the most magical place in the whole world.

When there was no room left to hang trinkets there, we went into the woods that were north of the cottage and along the hilly coastline, and found another favourite tree. We began to hang our bobbles there. Over the years the woods have become overrun with dangling, shimmering, clanking and swinging riches. All of which have come from the sea. It was safe to say that the woods were no less enchanted now than the precious apple tree by the cottage. But then, everything the aunts touched, had a bewitching charm that adulthood had not washed away as yet.

I was my mother's last child and was born to her many years after the others. The aunties had always taken a special liking to me. They called me the unexpected gift and often said I was a haltija – a little spirit sent to bless the family. I believed them wholeheartedly when I was young. As I aged I understood that while I may not be a haltija I certainly held a special place in the hearts of both my great aunts, which drove me to want to look out for them and take care of them as best I could. No two little old ladies could mean more to me then them! And it wasn't a wonder to anyone that we three were practically inseparable.

However, it was unusual for the aunts to come calling for me with any urgency. I wasn't alarmed though - only excited. Aunt Emmi's call today likely meant the two had found something of great interest to show me and I was eager to see it -whatever it was.

As I sped through Draper's field I could make out their little cottage by the sea. There was a tendril of smoke ascending from their stone chimney. I did not spy either of them in the yard. Racing down the hill and into their dooryard, I sent their geese flying in every direction. They made such a silly sight that I laughed aloud as I came to knock on the aunts' front door just before I squeezed the latch and pushed the door in.

"Aunts, I've come!" I called cheerfully. But there was no response. "Aunts!" I called in a louder voice. Still no answer.

I shut the door behind me and listened. The house was as still and quiet as the tidal pools at low tide. How strange. Perhaps they were down on the beach.

I turned right around and left the cottage for the path that lead to the cove. Looking about, I tried to spy their grey heads. The aunts rarely wore bonnets and their grey hair was always being whipped around by the sea winds, which made them easy to spot from a distance. My eye searched the tall grass, the shore line and the beach but I did not see them. I stood at the edge of the path where the grass met the sand and listened. Then to my great surprise I heard a loud grunt.

"Aunts!" I yelled with a little alarm.

Up poked a grey head and then a body from the rocks on the far left of the beach. It was a dangerous spot and we seldom ventured there. Especially not during high tide. It was nearly high tide now. Whatever were the aunts doing?

I rushed to them but my progress was hindered by the sand. My boots sank into it something terrible, which made running nearly impossible. But, I made it over there all the same and climbed the rough rocks until I was standing face to face with my Aunt Emmi. She was the younger of my two aunts.

"Where is Aunt Jaana?" I asked with great concern.

"Oh, never mind her child. She is not what is important. Come see what the sea has left us!" My aunt said with great excitement. 

We climbed over the rocks and I watched the rising tide with some anxiety. Were the aunts not aware it was coming in? Were they not worried? I worried for them. Perhaps, in their old age, they were beginning to forget the dangers of the tide.

And then I saw what the excitement was all about. They had found a man, who had been washed up on the rocks. Aunt Jaana was kneeling beside his prone and pale figure. He looked like a corpse. I had seen enough during the Iris fever epidemic a few years back to be familiar with the look of them. My heart sank and my knees went weak.

Why were my aunts grinning from ear to ear as if they'd found the most marvelous thing? Had they gone mad? How could they rejoice so over this poor soul that the sea had drowned and then cast out? I was appalled at the sight of their eager faces. In a state of shock, I sank to the rocks unable to stand a moment more.

And then, the corpse blinked.