When Autumn Leaves: A Novel Read Free

the Winter Solstice celebration came around nine days later, the word had spread around Avening like wildfire. Autumn was looking for an apprentice. But she wasn’t, not technically. What Autumn really needed was a replacement.

December 21: Winter Solstice
    E LLIE PENHALIGAN WAS A SLOW WALKER. IT WASN’T that she was unwell, and she wouldn’t have called her ambling “philosophic.” It was just that Ellie knew exactly how long it would take to arrive at any given destination. That’s the kind of person she was.
    On December 21st at 8:15 a.m., there Ellie was on Brigid’s Way, making her slow and deliberate steps, one foot in front of the other. If you were an average person walking down that same street on that very same crisp morning, you probably wouldn’t notice Ellie at all. Even if you were acquainted with the woman, more likely than not you still would fail to see her. Invisibility was Ellie’s own special magic.
    When she was younger, Ellie used to believe that her invisibility was a metaphor for something else, assuming it was her awkwardness, her fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. She had thought as she grew older, more confident, wiser, she would outgrow this not being noticed. But lately, Ellie really felt like a ghost. She would be in a place, but not really there. People looked through her, past her. Her invisibility had taken on a life of its own. It wasn’t a metaphor anymore, or a defense mechanism or eccentric little tic. She was actually invisible. At least, that was how it felt to her.
    Ellie wondered whether her parents were to blame. They were, after all, children of the sixties who had met at a love-in or lie-down or something of that sort, about which Ellie knew little except that a lot of drugs had been involved. Could Ellie’s lack of physical presence be a genetic mutation caused by acid or mushrooms? Ellie grew up on their hippie commune among the highest, densest redwoods, where they dug their hands deep into the soil and grew their own food, made their own clothes. So perhaps it is there that the mystery is solved. Ellie indeed was a child of the earth, a baby of beiges and taupes and browns and muted greens. Nature doesn’t scream and shout, demanding constant attention, and neither did Ellie. Maybe her invisibility was just her blending right in.
    Ellie pulled her long camel coat close and shoved her hands deep into the pockets. Even with gloves on, she could feel their tingling. It was desperately cold, too cold even to snow. She needed the jolt of caffeine as much as she needed to wrap her hands around something warm for the remainder of her walk. She stepped inside Hallowed Grounds, the coffee shop, and stood momentarily to let the heat of the colorful little café find its way into her bones. Besides the selection of tea and coffee, Sean sold an assortment of baked goods made by his wife, Rona. And although Ellie could never quite taste it, she figured Rona must use an abundance of cinnamon in all her creations, because the smell of it always stayed in Ellie’s hair and on her clothes long after she had left the coffee shop.
    Ellie was pleased to see Sean today. There was something about him, something that made her feel like she’d been given a big cat tranquilizer. He wasn’t handsome in any kind of conventional way; truth be told, he was not even that friendly. But she could tell that he liked who he was. “Hi Sean. I’ll have a latte, please.”
    Sean looked at Ellie and his mouth curled into a half-smile. She knew this smile all too well. It was the relay of a spinning brain, a brain working to figure out who she was and how he knew her. Ellie had come to accept it in her everyday interactions with people. She was unremarkable, though her stomach flinched a little as she thought so.
    “Uh, Sally, right? No, let’s see, Lori?”
    “Close enough. It’s Ellie.” Ellie smiled to let him know that he was entirely blameless.
    “Right, sorry about that. A latte,