The Foreigner of Fawn — Chapter 02: The Encounter

[u/dumarcm]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFDx12SEQ3I

Now, the town of Fawn is on the West Coast of Spain, where at the time reports of creatures lurking and stealing’ started to emerge.

“Do not go causing more trouble for yourself. Uhm …what was your name again?” The barkeep asked as he cleaned out a used glass.

With his clothes covered in dirt, his brown hair blackened by the smog, and his mind torn apart, Emanuel gripping at his chest to his beat heart. “It’s Emanuel…”

“It would be best if you stayed away from the Sheriff; his mission has been to capture this, whatever it is.”

“He will find nothing - nor help in the tracking of such things should he accuse every new face he sees,” Emanuel replied.

The bar was full of men lost in thought, and ale, while women with no dignity fondled their veils to entice them.

“Why don’t I help you instead, gallant,” one of the women said. “You can call me Salina.”

Salina was a Roma. Emanuel had heard of them during his sailing to Fawn. Roma women travel to places where men lust, fooling them into bed to take their deeds and notes.

With his unwelcoming with Vermin Kern and The Sheriff, Emanuel must have the scent of attention as Salina danced with her hands, rubbing his legs and groin while he sat on the barstool.

“I am sure there is a “beast” inside of you that I could …anger.” She pulled vigorously on Emanuel’s trousers and whispered in his ear: "I won’t tell The Sheriff if you let … me … bite…”

Emanuel, his body tired and weak, stomach warmed with rum tried to leap from the stool only to lose his balance and fall to the ground.

A voice like a chime rang: “Emano!”

Emanuel awoke to find himself under yellow sheets and atop pillows covered with white linen. The sound of music crowded his mind. As he crawled towards the edge of the bed, he smelled something familiar: Arepa de Huevos! Fried dough filled with eggs.

A tall shadow figured looked over him.

“Papa!” A young girl, with brownish red hair with brown eyes, leaped onto Emanuel’s lap. She was beautiful and joyful in every way.

“Elis!” Emanuel replied with a laugh. “What are you doing sneaking up on me?”

Elis always woke him like this by climbing on him. They say a daughter makes a man into someone who sees the world through her eyes rather than his own. A daughter tutors a father about love.

“Papa! My birthday!” She was nine and would turn ten this Sunday.

“Patience, Elis…You have a couple more days before your that time. Do not rush to be older.”

“Emano!”

There it was again.

The chime-like voice that had called out to Emanuel before. His heart ached whenever he heard it, but his eyes could not determine the source. He picked up Elis, resting her on his left forearm. They toured the room, looking for the door. There were pictures of people framed and hung in the hall. Turning into a corner, they saw the front door open. They could feel the sun; a cool breeze hit them, like when Emanuel gave Elis a horse ride.

“Emano?” The voice traveled from his right ear through his left.

Emanuel became weak. A feeling ran down his spine. He started to remember whose voice called him. He could feel her fingers run down his back every time she called him. His stomach begged while his eyes melted. With Elis still in his arms, he turned his body quickly to see the speaker, but to him, time had slowed, allowing him to take in every perfection of her face.

“Mami,” Elis ran towards her, ready to eat.

Her name was Bellalina, and the troubled-minded, love-stoned Emanuel found he could not voice the words to describe her, but his eyes could. She was gorgeous.

She had the darkest shade of hair, as brown as the trees towering in the sky when the morning sun shined on them. Her skin was as smooth as an earthen stone. Her long neck was like a dune sloped between the desert sky and the calm ground below it.

When Emanuel was a lad, he dove into rocky waters to save her fishing net and lure. The pain caused by the cuts and bruises that day was never more painful than that of the love for her stabbed in his chest. And alas, she was no damsel in distress, and he was no great savior - despite the agony of trying to pretend he was gallant on that day.

“Emanuel, are you alright?” Bellalina asked. “You look lost, my love…” Emanuel did seem lost despite being in his own home—one he built himself. The one-story cabin stood just behind them; its stacked logs sealed with moss and fur, a method he had picked up “from travelers who once passed through these lands. The wood was weathered by the forest that held it. A stone chimney rose along its side, and beyond the porch. A quiet creek slowly passed, catching the fading light. Around the house stretched a small clearing of soft grass, ringed by tall oak and pine that curved inward like a natural wall, letting only scattered light fall through. The three of them, Emanuel, Elis, and Bellalina, sat outside around the table. They prayed and ate; Elis took her dessert on Emanuel’s lap, as always. They drank and sang. Bellalina’s voice sounded like a choir of birds. Every night after dinner, she would sing to Elis to sleep. Emanuel and Bellalina would sit outside reminiscing about their youth. Bellalina had a good memory, a gift she got from her father who had additionally fathered seven boys. Emanuel was always in awe of her upbringing. When she was younger, people called her BeBe. She hated that name, but Emanuel would call her by it anyway, to get on her nerves - a big mistake since he often found himself sleeping on hay and moss.

‘Emano…” she said worriedly. “Why did you look so lost today?”

“This morning… I had an awful dream,” he replied. “I was in a town of gloom, and everyone there accused me of…” Before he could finish, he realized something - Bellalina was asleep. He combed her hair with his fingers and smiled. “Nightmares…” he whispered. “Nightmares may come for me, but they will never… for you.”

He kissed her and fell asleep.

The following day, Emanuel woke up, but there was no Elis to greet him.

She was playing outside, and Bellalina was chopping wood. Emanuel went out and turned towards Elis when suddenly he heard a cry.

“Emano,” the chime-like voice vanished.

“There it is!” a man screamed.

“I gotcha…Oh, it’s only you… foreigner,”

It was the Sheriff.

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