Ferry loved the quiet afternoons at home. If he wasn't doing his homework at Ben's, he was staying home with his mother. In the small living room where always smelled like butter biscuits, and where the heat was coming from the hearts and not only from the smoldering fire in the fireplace, Ferry was happy. He used to spend the afternoons drawing. He loved to draw and sometimes he, too, was amazed by the wonderful things his hand could draw. His drawings seemed like improving with each day. At first, the most beautiful flowers and plants were emerging from his crayons. But in time, his drawings became... different. Besides flowers and plants, fantastic birds and beasts appeared. Then floating, light beings were coming to life on the paper. Creatures that both amazed and frightened him.

That particular afternoon though, he wasn't in the mood for drawing. He barely did his homework, then he tried to draw something; but after a few shaky lines, he gave up. Instead, he stared through the window at the grey sky. The trees were almost leafless; only a few fragile, ruby-like leaves were still hanging, isolated on the branches. But in front of the powerful wind, they eventually gave up. Then, they would swirl in the air and vanish somewhere in the highest skies. They reminded him of the whirlwind at the veiled lady's house; it seemed so alive as if it had a will of its own.

"Mum, what do you know about Lavender Sky?" he asked his mother.

Mrs. Donovan was taken by surprise as she always was when Ferry was asking her the most curious questions. She took off her glasses, a sign she was to give her son her fullest attention.

"So you met her..." she said. "It isn't much to say. She's the oldest person in town. And nobody knows too much about her. Maybe the older people, who lived in the village, before the town was built, could have known more. She comes to town every now and then to buy some groceries or to collect some woods for the winter. Sometimes I could see her picking up branches from the sides of the roads. But never from the forest, if I come to think of it. I never thought how odd this was, not until now..." she said, lost in thought.

"Yes, but why does she cover her face? And why isn't she talking?"

His mother gave it a thought for a moment.

"Well, I couldn't tell you. All I know is just hearsay. People were talking, you know... That she was the victim of a great fire that took place many years ago and that her face was burnt badly. As for her not talking... I don't think anyone ever talked to her. Maybe that's why we thought she couldn't talk. And maybe she became a mute because of the trauma from the fire. Who knows? And people... Well, people are afraid of things they don't understand. I believe that's why they've been avoiding her the whole time."

Ferry felt sorry for the old lady.

"So no one is visiting? Ever?"

"Well, as far as I know, some women from the church visited her a while ago. They were worried because no one had seen her for a long time. That was many, many years ago before you were born. So those women decided they should check how she was doing. She lived at the foot of the northern hills, in complete isolation. And then—"

And Mrs. Donovan stopped, trying to find the right words.

Ferry was on the edge of his seat, "And then?"

"You see, it's hard to believe what people are saying," she said with a sigh. "I've heard so many things... Even about you. That's why you don't have to believe everything you hear."

"What about the church ladies? Have they talked to her?"

"The church ladies did found her, indeed. But as talking to her... They were too frightened to speak; too terrified about what they saw."

"What did they see?" asked Ferry with his heart ticking.

His mother fussed in her rocking chair, "Well, it's been a long time. We've just moved to town, your father and I. But the news traveled fast, especially in a small town like ours. And the whole town was buzzing about the old lady. What the church ladies thought they saw was hard to believe.

"They said they reached the old woman's house, and that they were amazed about the wonderful flowers and plants growing in her garden. Plants they've never seen before. But what intrigued them the most was Lavender Sky herself. They've called her, they've knocked at her door, but no one answered. Then, they started to look for her around the house. They found her in the back garden and she— Well, she was floating. She was actually floating in the air, above the fountain in the middle of the garden. She was muttering some words in a strange language they could not understand. Butterflies, insects, and birds were gathered around her, making a terrible noise. When she finally saw the church women, she simply vanished, leaving a bundle of thin steam behind.

"You can imagine the horror those women felt. They left the garden as fast as they could. When arriving in town, they told everyone what they've seen. A meeting of the most important people in town took place almost immediately. The word witch was on everybody's lips. They decided that some of the most courageous men in town should pay a visit to the old lady. Without further delay, the men started to the veiled lady's house. They came back pretty fast, dizzy and confused. They hadn't seen anything the women from the church mentioned. The house was actually a hut, surrounded by weeds and wild shrubberies. Not a trace of the wonderful garden. They eventually found the old lady dozing in the doorway, in her rocking chair. They've tried to talk to her, but couldn't understand a word of her mumbling and her meaningless gestures. So they've decided to leave, and let her be. They then met with the Mayor and the Priest and decided she's not a menace for the people of the town.

"As for the four women of the church... It was well known that every Thursday afternoon they loved to play bridge. And they also loved to have one or several glasses of brandy. Each. And that particular day was a Thursday.

"As for the old woman, she was rarely seen ever since that incident. Nobody really knows how she has survived so far. I'm actually surprised she's still alive. She must be over a hundred years old."

Ferry could barely breathe. He, too, had seen the strangely beautiful garden. He had seen the birds and bugs and heard their song. He shivered when seeing the whirlwind of leaves and flowers. And he wasn't the only one. Ben and Matilda had also been there. And none of them used to drink brandy.

"Did she have any children? Is anyone else living with her?" he asked his mother.

"Not that I know of," she answered, surprised with his question. "As for her children, they are probably pretty old themselves. At her age, she should have grandchildren or great-grandchildren. And I don't recall anyone lives with her. But you mustn't be afraid. She's just an old woman. A sad, lonely old woman."

⃰

Ferry couldn't get the veiled lady out of his mind, no matter what. If he closed his eyes, he could clearly see her thin figure, her face covered with the thick veil, and her long, thin fingers in lace gloves. And soon, he could see her for real.

He saw her, one foggy morning while going to school. She was watching him, motionless, from the other side of the road. The moment he saw her, Ferry broke into a run and didn't stop until he reached school. He was just about to fall when he saw her again, just as motionless, watching on the other side of the school. How did she get there so fast, without him seeing her? Not to mention he was a pretty fast runner. A lady her age could barely walk, let alone run. And for a second, Ferry thought maybe, just maybe, the old woman was a real witch.

Then, the encounters started to occur more often. He would meet her on the street when he was going to Ben's. He could see her watching him during the school break, quietly sitting outside the school gate. And he would see her when coming back from school.

One day, he even met her at the grocery store. Ferry was accompanying his mother for the Sunday meal shopping. While Mrs. Donovan was asking the grocer for some beef, butter, and flour, the bell on the door rang, announcing a new customer. And the noise of all nine customers in the grocery that day suddenly stopped. They all step aside, making room for someone. And that someone was the very Mrs. Lavender Sky.

But she wasn't heading to the store's shelves, as she usually did. She was walking slowly, but with a firm pace, towards the counter where Ferry and his mother were chatting with the grocer. It was so quiet in the store, that they could hear all the dusty folders of her purple dress rustling. Everybody was watching, like in a trance. The veiled lady stopped in front of Ferry; so close, he could feel her fresh scent of moist moss. No one moved, waiting. The old lady leaned as in slow motion and, through the thick veil, she whispered in Ferry's ear. That was the moment Mrs. Donovan woke up as from a nightmare, snatched her son away from the strange creature, and almost dragged him out of the store.

"Maybe she's following you because you stole her feathers," said Ben when Ferry told what had happened to his friends. "Maybe she wants them back."

"I don't think she wants that," said Ferry. "Besides, she was the one who gave them to me."

"Maybe she's trying to keep us quiet and not tell what we saw. I mean her house, her garden, and all the other odd things," added Matilda.

"I really doubt that. I think she would have found a way to stop us back then. I don't know... I don't know what she wants from me."

"So what did she whisper in your ear at the grocery store?" Matilda asked. "I thought she was a mute."

Ferry could hear in his head that clear, melodic voice, whispering like in a dream.

"She said Come to me" he answered, shivering.

Matilda sniffed, "She's not expecting you going to that weird house again, is she? You won't go, will you?"

That question followed Ferry all day long. Even when he went to bed, the question still echoed in his head. Should he go to the forgotten garden again? Should he step into that otherworldly house once more? He almost fell asleep, when a faint hissing woke him up. He thought maybe it was his raven, which hasn't shown up for days. He watched the nest near his window, but it was empty.

Something else caught his eye, though. A whirlwind of silver leaves and flowers, wriggling in front of his window. He watched it like in a daze, unable to take his eyes away from it. Then, he saw the shadow dripping on the frozen ground, close to his walnut tree. He could clearly see her standing there. Looking, head raised, straight at him. The veiled lady. Motionless like a statue, the wind playing with the folders of her heavy dress.

With a trembling hand, he opened the window. He didn't know what to expect. The whirlwind of flowers and leaves was getting closer. Whispers he couldn't understand came from all over, carried away by the wind. And when the shimmering leaves and flowers clashed against his window, exploding in thousands of sparkling petals, he could finally understand the whispers. Talking to him clearly, in the voice of the veiled lady.

"Come to me..."

Thank you for being part of Ferry's adventure. I really want to know what you think about the story so far. We are almost halfway through. So please vote, comment, and share the story with your friends! Thank you!