FAR FROM ERIS • FreenBecky •

SEVENTEEN

Becky woke up not knowing what time it was. With Patty out of the house, making no noise in the kitchen at seven in the morning, it was harder for her to orient herself. She knew it was Thursday, but nothing more at that moment. Nor did she quite understand why that retired woman, with no obligations, got up before the sun rose. She had gone to visit a friend who lived in a nearby town for a few days, leaving Becky alone in that apartment full of flowers and books.

Becky's memories of Patty had always been like that; flowers and books. The old woman helped her grandmother maintain the flowers in their garden, and Becky used to spend time with them while they read some of those books they shared in the book club or took care of pulling out weeds from the garden.

Becky's first books were gifts from Patty. Every year for her birthday, as if it were a tradition, Becky received a different book. Almost always revolving around the same theme, because the old woman was a confessed fan of science fiction. Once, while the three of them were sitting in her grandmother's garden, Patty told them that her mother was a physicist, or a mathematician, or both. The truth is that Becky didn't remember that story very well anymore. But she remembered that Patty told them her mother was an extremely intelligent woman who asked questions about the universe that no one dared to at that time. And even less so being a woman. So Patty, as she told them, grew up in a house full of notes hanging on the walls, equations written anywhere, and stacks of books that talked about black holes and interdimensional travel, even though her mother ended up running that flower shop that she would later inherit.

Becky always thought Patty had a privileged imagination, and a part of her felt sorry for that woman. The war took almost everything from her, and she never managed to study what she wanted, yet she managed to cultivate her brain just like she cultivated her flowers. And she knew things. Strange things.

Important things.

Becky wandered around for a while in the small library Patty had in her apartment. There were titles of all kinds, although as Becky knew well, the strange ones predominated. However, it was one book that once again caught her attention. Freen's book was placed on the shelf, and Becky smiled instantly upon recognizing it. She picked it up and opened it, paying attention to the dedication written inside.

For Patty 

May your tulips always return 

as the water always does.

-Tulips- she thought. Suddenly she visualized the flower shop full of those flowers, just because she imagined that Freen would like that. Her thoughts were somewhat out of control since the night before, especially because she hadn't received any messages yet, and deep down, she hoped for an impulsive and spontaneous act from the girl in which she couldn't resist for even five minutes and wrote to her as soon as she got out of the elevator. But it didn't happen, and no matter how much Becky checked her phone, she didn't receive any notifications.

In a way, she was the one who chose that situation. She could have asked for Freen's number too, and now she could be the one initiating a casual conversation. But something told her that Freen had to be the one to take the initiative in the advances of their relationship. -But what relationship, Becky, what are you saying?- she scolded herself, shaking her head as she put "Far from Eris" back on the shelf.

When she decided to come to the city, she knew this could happen, but she didn't expect it to happen almost immediately. It had been a couple of years since Patty, in their usual Wednesday afternoon conversation, told her that Freen had entered her flower shop. Becky couldn't help but be surprised at the magnitude of the coincidence. What were the chances that, out of all the cities and all the flower shops in the world, Freen would end up in the same place as Patty? Becky knew they knew each other from the book club, but she also knew that after Freen disappeared after that fateful night, they hadn't had any contact. So she supposed that coincidences swirled around that girl, and she still felt a shiver remembering the day she told Patty what happened on the bridge.

Many months had passed since they last saw each other, on the day of Becky's grandmother's funeral; months during which Patty and Becky had not maintained any contact. The old woman was convinced that the girl was still angry with her for leaving, and preferred to give her space to heal her wounds before attempting to get in touch again. And then Becky called her. She still heard in her head the broken and disjointed voice of the old woman as she narrated what had happened, and how between the shock and anguish she noticed the name of the girl Becky said she had spoken to on that bridge.

Freen.

-¿Freen? ¿a girl with long brown hair and huge eyes with front teeth slightly larger than the rest?- Patty asked as Becky was surprised that Patty kept such a description of that supposed stranger in her mind.

-Yes, just as you describe her, yes- Becky replied. Patty took her time to speak again.

-I think you're talking about Freen, the girl from the book club- she finally said.

Becky knew who the girl from the book club was. Both Patty and her grandmother spoke highly of her, although due to her health at that time, her grandmother had coincided with her far fewer times than Patty. But Becky had never put a face to her, and she didn't remember them ever mentioning her name. It's true that "Freen" was a particularly peculiar name, but the description the old woman gave left no room for doubt. It was the same Freen.

-Do you know how to find her?-Becky asked.

-I have no idea, darling. The last time I saw her we said goodbye because she was moving to another city-

-I've tried to find her, but it's like she's disappeared-

-She can't have vanished- said the puzzled old woman.

-Well, that's what it seems like- the girl concluded.

Rebecca was lost in her memories while, distracted, she continued to observe Patty's collection of books, when she realized that one of them had a postcard sticking out with a worn corner and an image of a field of flowers - Tulips - she murmured to herself as she took out the book out of curiosity.

Dear Patty,

Thank you for sending me this book. It's not like I'm too into physical and paranormal stuff, but I really liked it. I guess you're right about what it says and there are always two versions of everything. Of stories, situations, feelings, and maybe even people. I'm still trying to improve, at least, mine. My promise to return it to you when I get out of here still stands.

Hope to see you soon.

F.S.

Becky smiled, thinking that maybe it was true that everything surrounding Freen was a spiral of coincidences, or perhaps it was a maneuver orchestrated by fate.

And fate once again intervened, preventing Becky from noticing the date stamped on the postage seal.

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