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Wanda shouted, elated that school was over for the semester. She dropped her bag next to her friend's by the steps leading to the school entrance. Students walking by ignored her effervescence, overwhelmed by their own highly spirited mood.

Alfred, the school janitor, stood some distance away with a lawnmower on the newly cut lawn in front of the school. Alfred's hair was long and all over the place, reaching down to his shoulders and covering half his face. He was slightly bent; his head shook constantly and involuntarily like he had a mental disorder that needed to be treated.

"I don't know what you like about Alfred," Wanda's classmate and best friend Tutu said, looking at Alfred.

"Nothing. I just wished someone, or perhaps the school, would help him. I think he’s sick, but everyone says he's done several medical checkups, and he's okay."

“Anyway,” Tutu said, turning back to Wanda. “What did you say you'll be doing during the holidays?”

“We are off to Paris next week,” Wanda said, not disturbed by the number of times she had explained this to Tutu. “I'm so looking forward to it!”

“I really want you to come with me to camp.” Tutu looked discouraged.

“I know! Tutu.” Wanda studied her best friend for a moment, looking at her brown-skinned complexion and gorgeous face. “I know I keep reneging on my promises; I'll try next holiday to come to your camp. It's a real promise this time.”

“And I hope this is not a way of running off and making sure I can’t be part of your seventeenth birthday?” Tutu said.

“My birthday is months away.” Wanda replied. “I am not running away from school. It is just a summer holiday in Paris. I will be back before resumption. Why do you think I wouldn’t come back to school?”

“Yeah.” Tutu rolled her eyes. “That’s how you disappeared on your sixteenth birthday and said it was so…”

“I know.” Wanda said. Her eyes showed they had spoken about it several times and she was frustrated apologizing to Tutu about her sixteenth birthday. “My mum gave Jason and I a special trip on my sixteenth birthday and flew us away to Malta. I promise you my seventeenth birthday is not going to be like that, and I am inviting everyone.”

“You better.”

Wanda looked behind Tutu, and suddenly her expression changed as she saw the boy she had been observing in her school for some weeks.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Wanda said without hesitation. She tried to ignore the painful cramp nibbling at her stomach. Tutu opened her mouth, but Wanda spoke before she could. “Have you seen that guy around here before?” Her stomach relaxed from its twisted knot when she asked the question.

Tutu turned around, then turned back to her friend. “Who exactly are you talking about? Practically the entire school is out here, girl!” Tutu rolled her eyes.

“That boy.” Wanda tried not to point. She raised her hand and then quickly withdrew it. Tutu turned again as Wanda added, “The blond boy in the denim jacket resting against the wall over there.”

“Oh, him . . . Eric,” Tutu said with a slight hiss. “Is that why you were ducking like your heart was going to—”

“I wasn't ducking.” Wanda suddenly became brisk.

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I was not.”

“You were.” Tutu's voice was soft but firm. “So admit it.” She smiled, teasing Wanda.

“Well, I noticed him a few weeks ago, and he seems to stare at me a lot . . .” Wanda broke off, not wanting Tutu to tease her any further.

Tutu was already all smiles. “Seriously, it has nothing to do with any feelings of affection.” Her expression instantly turned uncomfortable, like she had lied.

"Okay, and how would you know?" Wanda stared at Tutu, wanting to hear more about this Eric boy. She knew Tutu very well, and she could see the discussion had made her friend nervous.

"Well." Tutu shrugged. "I know his name is Eric," she admitted. "He's not really in this school, and he's kind of weird." She turned back toward Eric, who was now looking away.

“You still haven't told me how you know his name,” Wanda pried.

“Monica . . . Monica told me last week. She saw him on the school premises.”

"You see, I’m not the only one who noticed him." Wanda was secretly elated not to be the only one inquiring about Eric.

“Yes, but Monica didn't duck like you did when she told me about him.”

“I didn't duck,” Wanda said defensively.

“Yeah, right.”

“Okay, so how did you know his name?”

“Monica, of course,” Tutu said. “Monica walked up to him and asked for his name and number. You know how she can be.” Tutu winked.

“Ah, Monica!” Wanda exclaimed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes like Monica was a rare alien breed she could never understand.

“Petter is here,” Tutu said. Her face lit up with a smile, though Wanda saw how she tried to hide it.

“Petter,” Wanda echoed, wondering why Tutu mentioned Petter's name so affectionately. She turned to see Petter dressed in a pair of jeans and a polo T-Shirt. His blond hair was low and perfectly cut; it looked like he had just stepped out of the salon. He stood about three inches taller than Wanda.

“Hi, Petter,” Wanda said as he walked over to join the two girls.

“Hi. Monica told me I would find you girls here.”

Tutu glared at him as he spoke. Wanda noticed Tutu's expression, but she ignored it. As far back as she could remember, Tutu had secretly liked Petter, but for some reason Wanda did not understand, Tutu never wanted Petter around them.

“What are you girls planning for the summer holiday?”

“And why do you care to know?” Tutu jibed, fixing her eyes on Petter.

Wanda turned again to check if Eric was still staring, but he had left.

“Tutu!” Wanda said in a warning tone when she heard the rudeness in Tutu's voice.

“Why doesn't he tell us his plans? Why ask for ours?” Tutu complained.

Wanda was about to apologize to Petter when he answered.

“I won’t be doing much. I’ll be around the city.”

“Well, Tutu invited me to her—” Wanda began.

“No.” Tutu butted in instantly, stopping Wanda from mentioning her invitation to the camp. “Wanda is traveling with her mum and brother.”

Wanda looked at Tutu and wondered what was going on. Tutu was freaking out unnecessarily about the camp invitation. Tutu once told her not to mention the camp to anyone or even tell them she had invited her.

“Oh, seriously?” Petter looked surprised. “You’re leaving the city? Where are you going?”

“What is wrong with everyone?” Wanda said. “I'm not running away; it's summer break.”

“Why do you want to know?” Tutu gave Petter a haughty look.

Wanda saw the look Tutu gave Petter and understood it. Tutu was trying to make his moment with them as uncomfortable as possible.

“Just curious,” Petter said, ignoring Tutu's efforts to frustrate him. He turned to Wanda for an answer.

“Paris.” Wanda smiled.

“All the way to Paris. That's not out of town. That’s out of the country. You’re leaving Norway.” Petter's surprise was evident in his expression. “I thought you'd be around, like other summer holidays.”

“My mum told me several times she and my dad met there. I'm interested in seeing the city of love, as they call it, and the Eiffel Tower—” She broke off when Petter interrupted.

“Okay, see you.” He was already a few steps away.

“That was quick,” Wanda said with a frown. She usually enjoyed Petter’s company.

“Isn't that what they do? Boys!” Tutu whined. “They show up and rush off again.”

“What is with you and Petter?” Wanda said. She stared at her best friend with a cunning smile.

“What?” Tutu turned away from gazing after Petter till he disappeared into the crowd.

“The way you seem to hate him . . .”

“Oh, if I could get him off you . . . he's always partnering up with us every time there's group work—”

“That's not what I mean.” Wanda's sneaky smile was evident as she raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“So what are you saying?” Tutu said fiercely. “You are the one he's always trying to talk to.”

“You seem to like him.” Wanda's smile broadened.

“What!” Tutu exclaimed.

Wanda held her smile. “You seem to have this ‘I like you’ kind of hatred for him—but . . .” Wanda broke off.

“But what?”

“I don't know. You seem to always want him around, but when he comes, you are always attacking him, pushing him off.”

“If I had my way, I would break his legs so he'd stop disturbing us.” Tutu scowled.

“Okay, forget it.” Wanda backed off, knowing Tutu could be very defensive when it came to how she felt about Petter. “I know you can break his legs. By the way, Petter is an orphan, so stop stressing him like everyone in school does.”

“I have to go.” Tutu stole one more glance behind her.

Wanda, who had looked up toward Alfred, noticed he was soliloquizing where he stood some distance away by the road.

“I can't believe Alfred talks alone in the open when people are around. It's weird, isn't it?

“Yes, it is,” Tutu replied, looking in Wanda's direction.

“I really wish he could get better treatment, you know,” Wanda grumbled. “Sometimes, I feel bad that Alfred can't be given better . . .”

“Are you all right?” Tutu asked as her voice trailed off.

Wanda's tone and speech slurred as if her tongue had suddenly become heavy. “I am . . . I'm sure that man wasn't there before . . .”

“What man?” Tutu turned toward Alfred.

“The man in the shiny yellow raincoat with the hood pulled over his head. I wonder why he's wearing that in the summer.”

“What man?” Tutu looked bewildered.

“That huge man.” Wanda pointed straight toward Alfred. Why couldn’t Tutu see the man?

The open field in front of the school had started clearing. Only a few students were left; most had been picked up by their parents or left with the first batch of school buses.

“Alfred is talking to himself. What other man are you talking about?”

Wanda froze for a few seconds, her heart palpitating intensely. She looked at the person next to Alfred who Tutu could not see. As she gazed at him, she saw him better. He was huge; the width of his shoulder was unusually wide, with one side bent low in comparison to the other, a very wacky twist that would have made it impossible for a normal man to stand up straight. The man, or thing, or whatever it was, turned, and immediately it occurred to Wanda that it had a back carved in a wide-angle, making a big concave shape inside the yellow raincoat he wore.

“You know, it's funny what they say.” Tutu spoke out loud, concern in her voice. “Things we see are made of things we cannot see.”

Wanda jerked awake from her daydream of staring and studying the man. Tutu’s statement reminded her of her late father. It was a constant statement from him: “Things that we see are made of things we cannot see.”

Unexpectedly, the last words her father spoke to her and her brother flashed back in her memory, a warning her father had given them like he knew this day would come. He had looked them straight in the eyes as he advised them late in the night before she and her brother went to bed.

“On the day you see what others cannot see or you smell what no one can smell . . .” Marcus said to his children as they stared at him in amazement of the beautiful tales he shared about fighting beasts and how to overcome them.

“What will happen on that day, Dad?” Jason, Wanda's brother, asked, with all his senses intensely attentive to his dad, like a flower experiencing the rising sun in the morning.

“On that day.” Marcus smiled. Beneath the beautiful smile, Wanda noticed a warning. “You run with all your strength.”

“Oh, but Dad,” Jason protested in disappointment. “I thought we were supposed to fight them, like in your stories.”

“You know they are only stories, Jason,” their mum, Sofia, said, standing by the door with her shoulder

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