Dreams, mementos and dimensional travel

It was Lucija’s last day. The last few tourists were just finishing up, agonising over keychains or comparing different t-shirt sizes. As they made their choices, paid and left, Lucija thanked them each in their own language. When the last had gone, she ran straight upstairs, throw off her uniform and slipped into her blue summer dress.

Mrs Spiteri and Mr Rossi were waiting for her as she came back down.

‘Lucija, sweetie, we are going to miss you so much. You have been a great help to us.’ Mrs Spiteri said as she hugged the young girl.

‘I’ll miss you to Mrs Spiteri. You were so helpful when I first started, and I will never forget your delicious biscuits.’ Lucija hugged her back as the two gave a good squeeze.

‘Here you go,’ Mrs Spiteri said as she handed over a small, wrapped gift. ‘Just something small from the two of us.’

Lucija untied the knot, pulled on the ribbon and loosened the opening. Out popped a foot.

It was a cold foot, despite the warm room, with a slightly rough texture. Lucija thought that it must be some sort of metal, but she didn’t know which. She stroked her finger across the bubbly toes towards the ball of the foot and onto the engraved lettering in the centre. The words read in English:

May your home be where your feet lead.

‘Thank you, Mrs Spiteri, I love it. What a thoughtful gift.’

Lucija turned around and mumbled, ‘thank you too, Mr Rossi.’

‘That’s no problem at all. You have been such as good and diligent worker; we will be sad to see you go.’ The whole time he spoke Lucija found a spot on the wall just behind his head to stare at. She nodded a couple of times, wondering if she could go.

After she had made her escape from Mr Rossi, she half-ran down Republic Street to the bus shelter outside the Valetta’s gate. She started to tap her feet while looking at her phone. Looks like the bus is late again, she thought.

As she waited, she took another look at her gift. On the reverse side, the metal was shaped into a 3D image of a backpacker walking up a hilly path leading to an expansive beach under a sunny sky. Lucija slipped her one and only key, the one for her suitcase, onto the ring. She had already returned the key to her father’s place.

She contemplated the meaning behind the keychain’s words. Her English wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. She thought it meant either, home can be whether you go, or maybe a prayer asking for safe travels that eventually lead home.

I think I like the first meaning better.

When the bus finally arrived, it was utterly packed. Lucija gripped the pole with both hands to keep steady. The air con was fighting a losing battle against warm bodies and hot sun. Lucija was feeling sticky. Her hands were sticky. The pole was sticky. Her dress was sticky, and the floor was especially sticky.

She passed the time thinking about what her trip will be like. Will she get scouted to be a model in Paris. Will she uncover some lost treasure at an archaeological dig in England. Or maybe she will meet a young and handsome prince in Amsterdam.

Lucija pulled out her phone and searched for ‘Dutch royalty’. She clicked on one of the links and read. Three daughters and no son? That’s a disappointment. As she thought about it, maybe it’s for the best. She wasn’t ready to settle down, still too many adventures left to have.

She next searched for ‘British royalty’. No, they are all children.

That’s right, she thought, too many adventures left, and marrying into wealth and fame is too easy. It’s like her father always said: if you want to succeed, you must work twice as hard and suffer three times as much. That was the only lesson he taught her that stuck, other than disappointment, loneliness and, of course, fear.

As she tried to forget that depressing subject, she thought she could her music. Was that a choir? Interesting choice. The sound quality is amazing. To her ear it lacked the slightly metallic, electric sound of headphones of speakers.

The notes hit a high part of the climax, before falling away again and eventually disappearing entirely. Within seconds, Lucija had completely forgotten about it.

When the bus reached her stop, she squeezed out through the mass of bodies and stepped off. The sun was hot, beating down on the limestone buildings, turning them into molten gold. Lucija slipped on her sunglasses and walked down the street to the hostel she was staying. That’s when she noticed something in the road.

A cat was sitting in the middle, lazily swinging its tail, not paying attention to the traffic. The whites of Lucija’s eyes grew large as she watched a truck that was heading towards it.

Lucija wanted to look away, but her eyes were fixed, waiting to see what comes next. She managed a half-hearted ‘look out’, but the truck kept driving and...

Nothing happened.

The truck’s front tyre and then the back simple passed straight through. The cat remained sitting there, its smug upturned mouth looking straight at Lucija. Another truck came into view, then a couple of cars. All passed right through the cat.

Lucija stood for a while, her heart still trying to jump out her chest.

She started walking closer, still staring at the cat. This was clearly no ordinary cat, and not just because it had avoided becoming a flat cat pancake.

It was massive, well massive for a house cat, maybe the size of a labrador. The fur was long and thick, too thick for the Maltese heat, and it was blue, an iridescent blue, mainly on the back and sides. The fur on its front was a light buff and particularly thick.

As Lucija got closer, the cat slowly stood up and walked down a narrow side street. She could see clearly the chevrons of orange forming a zigzag pattern along its back.

She ran to try and catch up, turning the corner onto the side street. It was an old street too narrow for cars. The irregular paved steps slowly climbed up the slope, flanked by rows of limestone houses. The doors were large and multi-coloured with big brass or iron looped knockers.

The sun had started to retreat behind the buildings; the shadows grew longer and sharper. The cat was sitting halfway up the flight of steps. Lucija climbed after, its face becoming clearer: a wide face, with slightly upturned lips. The eyes were closed, but on each of the blue lids was a small, tight spiral of white fur.

The cat twitched its large ears, twice as long as normal and ending in long tufts. It turned away and continued to leap from one step to the next until it reached the top. There it stopped again and waited. Eyes still closed.

As Lucija got closer, the ground moved.

The floor was carpeted by a swarm of moths, each as big as a person’s hand, and they shone. Cyan blues. Pinks. Mauves. They were obscuring markings on the ground; shapes and letters, or some sort of runes, formed a circle on the ground.

Lucija climbed another step, and the moths exploded, all flying in different directions. As she followed their flight, they began to fade, and as they left the boundaries of the circle, disappeared entirely.

Then the cat's eyes opened.

Pure white stared at Lucija. No pupil, not even a hint of a shadow, just white. A voice spoke.

Deep and textured, it reverberated in Lucija’s head 'Do you crave adventure.'

She fell to her knees and covered her ears. Her eyes pinched shut. The volume was unbearable.

'Do you crave adventure.' The voice repeated 'Do you crave importance. Do you crave meaning.'

'You who is alone. You who is unloved. Come. You can find all these things and more.'

The reverberations slowly faded. The pressure of the voice relented. Lucija’s body relaxed as she uncovered her ears and opened her eyes; the cat’s eyes filled her vision.

Images flashed into view. Images of great cities and terrible monsters. Shining armour and blood sodden ground. Dragons and gold. One image followed another, then another, and another. Thousands of them. Lucija watched it all, her eyes fluttering left and right repeatedly.

After the images began to slow and eventually stop, Lucija dropped to the ground, her lungs fighting to breathe.

'Well, are you coming. A new world is waiting, and you can be anything.'

The voice lost its terror and became light and springy. Only the cat was in front of her, its eyes now looking somewhat normal, a bright hazel yellow. It tilted its head to the right and its lips moved. 'This is a one-time invitation. I’d take it up if I were you.'

The cat walked into the circle. Lucija, in a daze and without saying a word, stood up and followed. One last time she looked out as the sun set over the old streets of Birgu. I think I am in for a real adventure now, she thought. Her right hand rubbed the metal foot in her pocket a few times, and she entered the circle.