Life and other Disasters
4. The sisters

Beth opened the door. A warm gust of air blew in their faces, the smell of roast lured Ava into the building. When she stepped inside, she found herself in the interior of an old fashioned tavern. People were sitting at the bar, at long tables, eating, drinking, talking. A man played guitar in the corner, singing an old love song.

“Welcome.” A woman behind the bar smiled invitingly at Ava; then, her gaze shifted to Beth, who walked right behind her. “Who did you bring with you this time, Sister?” Her words were warm, curious.

Ava had never seen two women so different calling each other sister. They both had curls, but that was the only resemblance. Where Beth’s curls were small, neat, and dark, the ones the woman behind the bar had were big, red, and lush. Beth was lean and muscled. Her face wasn’t unfriendly, but it had something solemn. The other woman was round; her cheeks were shiny and red. Her hands never seemed idle, cleaning the bar, pouring a drink for a customer, and in between, she was knitting something that resembled a scarf.

Beth extinguished her lantern and took a mug of beer the bar lady offered her.

“This is Ava. She will stay here for a while.” Beth licked the foam of the beer off her lips.

“Welcome, Ava,” the barmaid said. “Can I offer you something? Ale, cider, or some boring old water?”

‘Eeeh,’ Ava was too overwhelmed. Never in her life had she seen a place like this. “Do you have any recommendations?” She wanted to sink into a hole in the ground immediately. Asking for recommendations was something her parents would do. And one thing was sure; she never wanted to become like her parents.

“Aren’t you a cute one?” The woman laughed heartily. “Where did you replace this one, sis?”

Beth sighed, turned to Ava.

“Don’t mind my sister Liz, she’s the owner of this establishment and a terrible meddler.” Ava noticed Beth paused before the word sister as if it wasn’t the right word, and only used it for the lack of a more appropriate term.

Liz rolled her eyes at Beth’s crude description of her character, filled a large glass with yellow fluid, and offered Ava the drink. “My best cider, taste it. It’s good, made from apples from my orchard.”

Ava stared at the glass, she sniffed, and the scent of apples filled her nose. Wasn’t there a story of a woman who got trapped in the underworld as soon as she ate something? Quickly she washed her worries away with a big gulp of cider. Drinking wasn’t eating. The cider was fresh and sweet, and it tasted like summer. Now that she thought of it, Liz looked a bit like an apple herself, with her red hair, her full cheeks, and freckles all over her face.

The two sisters stood together, having a conversation in whispers, too soft for Ava to hear anything they said. Ava took the time to look around. She noticed that the room was lit by candles, setting it in a soft glow. There was also a hearth, where a small group of people had gathered. One of them was telling a story, while the others listened intently, having fun and laughing together.

Some people were sitting alone, some had gathered and were talking, but one thing stood out; there was no cell phone to be seen, no one huddled over a blue-lit screen. There was electricity, Ava had spotted a jukebox in a far corner of the room, there were just no cell phones.

Quickly, Ava checked her pockets, although she already knew she wouldn’t replace what she was looking for. Patrick always carried her stuff around, or, in the case he wasn’t around, she would carry it around in a handbag.

Was it even possible to use your cellphone here? she wondered. Call home to her parents, call Patrick. “Hello, this is me. I’m in a coma, but I want to tell you I’m okay.” It would scare the crap out of them, and the thought made her smile.

A soft bump against her shin startled her. When she looked to the ground, she saw a beautiful orange tabby cat, who looked at her with his huge orange eyes. She stuck out her hand, let the cat sniff it, then scratched behind his ears. He flashed her a smile, his whiskers shivered, and she could hear a soft purr rise from his scruffy body. Once or twice he stroke against her legs and then walked out of her reach behind a chair. When Ava checked where the animal had gone, it had disappeared entirely.

“They can walk between the worlds,” Beth said. Ava looked wonderingly at her.

“Cats,” she explained. “He might come back. They like it here, it’s warm, and Liz feeds them the left-overs. She cherishes them; they keep the vermin away from her precious apples.”

Ava was still wondering what Beth meant by worlds. Was there more than one?

“Come with me; I’ll show you your room,” Beth said. The caretaker guided her through a thick oaken door, into a large hallway. There were several rooms; Ava could hear sounds coming from behind the doors. She could hear people laugh, she heard music that sounded like it came from a long-forgotten time. The words were incomprehensible, the sound unfamiliar and crestfallen.

Beth walked up the stairs, with wooden steps that creaked every time she moved. Ava thought the building was a lot bigger from the inside than it had looked from the outside. She couldn’t remember seeing a second or third floor when she was outside, but this staircase was at least reaching the fifth floor.

On the upper floor, the hallways were covered with a soft red carpet; their footsteps sounded muffled. Finally, Beth opened one of the doors. Behind it was a small and cozy room. The walls were painted white, the curtains were closed. In the middle of the room stood a canopy bed. Intricate figures were cut out of the wood, the canopy was made from a deep blue velvet, adorned with small golden stars. At the far end of the room was an antique mirror with a small faucet. The scent of lavender and roses hang in the room.

“This is your room. I hope you like it. Most people who stayed here loved it. The view is beautiful. Sleep as long as you have to. If you’re hungry, ask Liz.” Beth sounded like she had said this at least a thousand times before. She turned around to walk out the door when Ava stopped her.

’Wait! Where are you going?” Ava didn’t want to admit it, but she felt lonely. Beth was the first person she got to know, and her intention to leave, made Ava realize that she was all alone in a strange world. She wanted to clasp to her company a little longer. She was tired, though, and she was rocking back and forth on her legs.

Beth sighed. “My job is not done for tonight. It’s never done. There are other people out there, and I’m going to show them their way. Some might end up here, some may end up somewhere else. Everyone’s path is different, although one day, everyone will end up at the same final door. Emperors, beggars, scientists, and popes, there are no exclusions. No matter what your beliefs are, everyone will face death one day.”

Ava looked suspiciously at Beth. “Are you Death?”

Was that the reason why she could see the woman? Was this the true personification of death instead of a skeleton dressed in a black robe, a scythe in its hand?

The woman shook her head. “I’ve seen death, and I’ve seen life as well. I like to think of myself as a guide. That’s what I do. I guide people back to the road they have to go, whether that continues living or stop living. There are many words for me, as I have many faces and even more names. I can’t change fate, I can’t kill someone I don’t like, and I can’t bring someone back to life if I want to. Go to sleep, Ava. As I told you, it’s not your time yet, not tonight. But I do know that troubles lie ahead, and you need your rest to be able to fight them.”

But Ava wasn’t done yet. “And what about Liz?”

“What about her?” Beth’s voice sounded a little irritated.

“Is she a guide as well? I mean, you called her your sister.” There were too many questions in Ava’s head, and she was never afraid to ask them. She had driven her teachers crazy with her questions and theories, telling her to come back after class, as her questions were derailing the lesson. Her own mother walked away whenever she started a sentence with the word ‘why’, but that was who she was. And if no one gave her an answer, she would replace one herself.

“We have the same mother, but Liz has a different task. You can ask her tomorrow, she will tell you her story yourself.” The woman looked into the hallway as if there was someone waiting for her. “But now you have to sleep.”

With those words, Beth closed the door, leaving Ava alone with her thoughts and questions.