An elderly woman, a middle-aged girl, a teenage girl, and a baby girl live under the same roof. Everyone has duties that must be performed. People around them react strangely when they see them. A series of oddities leads them to a meeting with someone who knows everything about what is going on. The situation with the locals heats up to such an extent that they have to set off on a journey for a new life. And they are not the only ones like this.

“Look at this! They’ve hung up all sorts of things again!” old Helgamina grumbles, yet smiling as she looks at the infant in the cradle. “We’ll close the door tightly so the heat from outside doesn’t get in the house. You’re already almost overheated in the sun,” she places the cradle on the table. She takes the baby out and makes a funny face. The little girl smiles, looking at the woman.
“See, I told you, she went for the baby. Now she’s going to light a fire in the fireplace and boil the infant,” Mina whispers, sitting with Gami behind the wardrobe.
“Girls! Come here! Help me,” Helgamina calls, looking at the stairs.
“Well, there we go. The old woman knows we’re here. Now she’ll definitely cook us too,” Mina sighs. “Dibs on you going first!” she pushes the younger girl out from behind the wardrobe.
“There you are!” Helgamina immediately spots the golden ringlets in the sun. Gami hides in the shade. “And where’s Mina?”
“Right there,” the girl angrily points a finger at the older girl in her hiding spot.
“Mina!” Helgamina addresses her seriously. “What kind of frightening game are you playing?”
“Ghost,” Mina steps out from behind the wardrobe. She immediately hides in the shade next to Gami.
“And why did you bring out the Halloween decorations?” she removes a hanged doll. “You’ve put my portraits next to them. Do you see a resemblance to your ghost?” she holds the doll up to her face. “Gami, why do I always look so scary in your drawings?”
“Because you’re old,” the naughty girl replies.
“And I thought it was all because of your pencils. You’ll be old someday too. And your face will change. Just like mine,” Helgamina explains with a smile. “Will you draw yourself so scary then?”
“She just can’t draw,” Mina teases, tousling Gami’s golden curls. She runs between Helgamina and the infant. The girl chases after her.
“Quiet, girls! You’ll wake Heli! I just managed to rock her to sleep in the fresh air. There’s so little shade left now. All the trees have dried up, and there are no leaves. They used to have thick crowns. It would get cold in the shade in the summer.” She shivers, removing her hat with a thick, white lace veil. “Please take all this down. What if guests come over, and we have this mess?” she looks distastefully at the clutter in the house. “And wash the cauldron!”
“I call Mina to wash it!” Gami immediately volunteers.
“Then you do everything else!” Mina outsmarts her.
“I’d rather do everything else,” the little girl replies happily.
“You two take care of the chores, and I’ll feed Heli,” Helgamina carries the cradle and the infant to the kitchen.
“I told you,” Mina whispers again. “Now she’ll prep the vegetables, chop them finely. I’ll wash the cauldron. She’ll boil poor little Heli in it.”
“Stop it!” Gami can’t take the fear anymore. “She didn’t eat her before. She won’t eat her now!”
“Before, Heli was tiny. Just a bite. But now the broth will be rich and savory.”
“Then why didn’t she eat us a long time ago?” Gami asks seriously.
“I’m old, my meat is tough. But you have juicy little sides,” she grabs the girl’s sides.
“Get off!” Gami pushes Mina’s hands away.
“Let’s go. Pick up the Halloween decorations,” the older girl grins.
“Wash the cauldron thoroughly!” Gami replies, sticking out her tongue.
“I know what I’m doing,” Mina sighs heavily next to the black cauldron.
“No one eats until you’re both done!” Helgamina calls from the kitchen.
“We know!” the disappointed girls answer in unison, carrying out their tasks.
“It hasn’t been used in years,” Mina grumbles, wiping cobwebs from the top of the cauldron. “Ugh!” she flicks away a large spider and lightly dusts it with ash.
“Well, you're a heroine!” Gami peers into the fireplace. “Anyone can pick on little ones. We’re defenseless,” she strangles a doll in a noose. Playfully, she sticks out her tongue.
“Little ones cause more trouble than adults. Especially nasty ones like you,” Mina throws a piece of coal from the fireplace at Gami, hitting the hem of her dress.
“Couldn’t you think of anything better?” Gami throws the coal back. She brushes herself off. She carries the basket of decorations into the closet. She trips over the album, falls, and spills everything she collected. She angrily kicks the basket. “What are you looking at?” she yells spitefully at Mina. “I’m never taking these toys out again. What’s the point? We have the ghost of an old woman right here.” She casts a hard look toward the kitchen.
“I hear everything,” Helgamina shouts from the kitchen. “And I’m almost offended! A little more of that and someone will go hungry forever,” she adds with a smile in her voice.
“Our Gami will turn into a mummy,” Mina teases, pointing a finger covered in soot.
“Oh, great, you woke Heli up. And I haven’t even cooked the porridge yet,” Helgamina frets, rattling pots in a rush.
“We’ll all starve to death together!” Gami rejoices maliciously.
“We don’t matter; we need to care for Heli. The poor thing was left without her parents. And what’s this?” Helgamina gives the baby a little teaspoon to play with.
“Why did Heli’s parents abandon her?” Mina asks, pausing in her cauldron scrubbing. “She’s so cute,” she gushes, remembering the girl’s face.
“All children are cute until they grow up,” Gami tosses the toys back into the basket. The decorations bounce off and jump out, which irritates the girl even more.
“I don’t know,” Helgamina reflects sadly. “They probably couldn’t afford to feed her. Remember how weak we found her? She was so tiny and pale. But now look what a beautiful, rosy-cheeked girl she is!”
“She cried a lot!” Gami says out of spite. “She kept her parents from sleeping. So they went somewhere quieter. And they left Heli to cry, to scare away the crows and rats. She couldn’t even manage that!” she throws a boot at a rat. The victim runs away, and the girl jumps for her boot, still discussing it.
“She never cried for us,” Mina calmly reminds her.
“Of course, she didn’t cry,” Gami sneers. “Clever Heli knew that we would leave if she cried too. She kept quiet, so we stayed. And now she can cry all she wants, she can get on our nerves as much as she likes.”
“Heli never cries,” Helgamina notes with a smile.
“She hasn’t cried yet. Heli’s on probation, restraining herself. She’s waiting for us to get used to her,” Gami explains seriously. “Why do we need her anyway?” she says, as if she has found a useless object.
“You shouldn’t abandon children like that! Especially infants,” Helgamina declares. “They need special care at that age. Care, affection, warmth, and love.” She feeds Heli, smiling tenderly.
“I was abandoned when I was little too!” Gami recalls angrily. “And look! I manage somehow without all that nonsense of yours. You’re talking nonsense, that’s all!”
“I was abandoned as an infant too,” Mina replies. The cauldron gives a slight echo to the woman’s voice. “Now I realize it would have been much better if my parents had kept me.” She wipes her face sadly with a dirty hand. “A different life.”
“We were all abandoned,” Helgamina says seriously. “We can’t repeat that awful action and abandon those who need help and company. It’s much easier to live together. See how well we manage. And you shouldn’t be afraid to start a family,” she looks out from the kitchen, hinting at the girls.
“It’s too early for me!” Gami finally throws the basket of decorations into the closet. “But Mina’s old! No one will want to marry her!” she taunts the older woman, not realizing how deeply it hurts when no one wants you.
“Don’t talk nonsense!” Helgamina calls back seriously from the kitchen. “Our Mina will give all the young ladies a head start! She’ll have her own family soon, and she won’t have to listen to your endless foolishness anymore. You don’t understand anything yet, and you’re already speaking your mind.”
“Gami’s right,” Mina agrees sadly. “There are so many girls much younger than me. By the time it’s my turn, I’ll be as old as our Helgamina.”
“And you’ll be just as old and scary as our ghost!” Gami makes a face from behind the dresser with the bronze candlestick, coated in dusty, frozen wax. The girls glance at it and keep silent so they won’t be forced to clean it. Although, after the cauldron, it’s Gami’s turn. Mina kindly keeps quiet.
“Everyone grows old, changing beyond recognition,” Helgamina gently strokes little Heli’s face. “Enjoy your youth. When you grow up, you’ll remember the passing years with longing and silently listen to your children telling you how ugly you are.”
“Well, I won’t get old!” Golden-haired Gami sticks out her tongue at everyone. She accidentally steps into a sunbeam. “Geez, it’s a scorcher today,” she leaps back into the shade.
“Don’t burn before dinner. I don’t like burnt meat,” Mina jokes, finishing the cauldron. “The meat should be tender,” she mentally tastes a piece, “medium-roasted over a fire of fruitwood. Take care of yourself!”
“We’ll eat you today!” Gami shouts, offended, glaring at Mina. “There will be enough of you for everyone. And some left for tomorrow.”
“And I prefer young, juicy meat,” Helgamina peers out, licking her lips.
“Stop it!” Gami screams. She’s afraid of everything, especially Mina’s stories about ghosts and old women who eat children.
“The cauldron is clean!” Mina announces happily. “I can eat. But Gami hasn’t picked up everything.” She points to the torn photo album and the photograph of little Gami at Heli’s age. She also had golden fuzz on her head and chubby cheeks.
“I’ll clean it up now!” the girl grumbles unhappily, putting the album and books back.
“It’s torn?” Helgamina asks sadly, walking over to the cabinet. “What a shame.” She picks up the photo album. “I’ve looked at it every day for as long as I can remember. I used to wear this carnival mask.” She picks up the mask Gami was wearing while looking at the photos. It glistens, reflecting specks of light in the shade. “And this girl looks so much like our Heli.”
“That’s not Heli! That’s me!” Gami snatches the photograph, hiding it behind her back.
“That can’t be,” Helgamina assures her. “I’ve been looking at these photos since childhood; she was always there. I know for sure. And when we found Heli in the crib, I remembered her. Only, for some reason, it’s signed: ‘Gami’.“
“Exactly! Because the photograph is of me!” the girl argues.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence. Girls were called that a long time ago.” Helgamina calmly puts the album back and returns to the baby. “Whoever wants to eat, join us!” she calls from the kitchen. “After lunch, Gami cleans the candlestick, and Mina goes to pick the apples before they rot, as usual.”
“No! I knew it!” Gami laments.
“Cleaning the candlestick is easier than washing the cauldron,” Mina smiles.

“Can I just clean off the wax?” Gami asks, sleepy after lunch. “There’s a mountain of wax every time!”
“Fine. I’ll polish it to a shine myself once Heli falls asleep,” Helgamina allows.
“I could use a nap after lunch, too,” Mina says, lazily preparing to go outside for apples.
“You need to make it before dark. There are only enough candles left for a few days. And the locals are predicting rain tomorrow. If the apples get soaked with water, they’ll rot right away. The little one and you need vitamins to grow up strong and healthy,” Helgamina plays with Heli.
“The sun is still scorching,” Mina peers out the window from a distance.
“Put on my hat with the veil. It’s near the door. And stay in the shade. Sunburns heal badly,” Helgamina rubs her healed burns on her arms and face, recalling painful memories. “You don’t need any new ones, so cover up well. Better to be hot than in pain.”
“Not much difference there,” Mina takes the hat, putting it on in front of the mirror. She also keeps quiet about the dust on the mirror so Helgamina won’t make Gami wipe it. She adjusts the veil, rolls down the sleeves of her dress. She takes the basket for the apples. “I’m going now!” she sighs heavily, leaving reluctantly.
“And find yourself a groom out there!” Gami yells after her.
“Where will I find him!” Mina hides her hands in the shadow of the hat. She surveys the powerful, dried-up trees. The new ones growing are crooked and scrawny. It’s a wasteland all around. The fields are overgrown with thick grass. The locals don’t come here, even though there’s plenty of space nearby. “Apparently, there’s a second Mina in the village who scares the locals with tales about a ghost and a man-eating old woman,” she says aloud to herself with a smile, picking up the fallen apples. Some are rotten. Some are worm-eaten. “Doesn’t matter! They’ll all be good for juice. Or we’ll bake a pie. At least they’re ripe,” she quickly grabs them, tossing them into the basket. She hides her hands from the sun; it’s really burning. “I don’t have gloves. I wish it would just pour,” she gathers the apples in quick motions. The sun is less scorching. “Is it evening already?” she looks at the horizon, but the sun is not visible. Clouds are drawing across the sky, making it darker. A light rain begins to drizzle. She speeds up. Now she can gather the apples without worry. “Thank you, kind sky!” she looks up with a smile. “What’s wrong with him?” A man in the town looks at her, glances at the sky, crosses himself, and mutters. “He must be thanking the sky too,” she carries the full basket, swaying under the weight. The rain follows Mina, but stops right at the doorstep.
“Why so many!” Helgamina exclaims, getting up anxiously. “You’ll strain yourself!”
“It’s fine! At least I gathered everything. I won’t have to go twice,” she takes off the hat with the veil. “It’s so nice out there,” she smiles contentedly. “The locals weren’t wrong, the rain came, just now, not tomorrow.”
“What rain?” Gami asks in surprise. “There isn’t a cloud in the sky!” she points out the window with a knife and returns to the candlestick.
“Seriously, not a cloud,” Mina looks out cautiously. “I’m lucky, the sky helps me,” the woman rejoices.
“If it helps, where’s the groom?” Gami asks sarcastically.
“There was one guy there,” Mina recalls with a smirk. “He’d do for our Helgamina’s husband. Pious. He was talking to the sky, too.”
“I’m too old for marriage,” Helgamina smiles. “And why bother, what’s the use? Men only get in the way! You have to look after them like small children. And I already have three of you,” she counts the girls with a glance.
“I’m grown up!” Gami declares proudly. “You just haven’t seen normal men,” she says with an air of knowledge. “If you meet a good one, you’ll drop us in an instant, forget about us. Like my dad. It's a good thing he only abandoned me. He left with mom. A real man,” she reasons sarcastically, diligently scraping the wax off with a knife.
“Be careful not to scratch the metal!” Mina laughs, sorting through the apples.
“I won’t scratch it! You look after your own apples!”
“Everything is ours together,” Helgamina reminds them. “The candlestick, the apples, the cauldron, Heli. We are all one whole in this house. Everything in it is ours. And it will be passed on equally. When I go, a new Helgamina will appear.”
“We don’t need a new Helgamina like you!” Gami protests. “It would be better if at least one of our fathers came back. Just not yours,” she gestures toward the eldest woman. “He’s almost a hundred! Then, true, we’d have to look after him like a child.” From nerves, Gami polishes the candlestick to a shine, though she agreed to avoid it. “It would be better if my dad came back, or Mina’s. Heli’s is young and irresponsible. He’d make a mess for us to clean up later. But ours have grown up, gotten smarter. They regretted leaving. They’ll come back and help. Or they’ll take us with them.”
“Whose father are you talking about right now?” Mina clarifies.
“Mine, yours, what difference does it make! The main thing is to leave this life. The same thing every day. All these chores. Endless soot on the cauldron, cobwebs, dust, apples, wax!” she insistently rubs the candlestick with a cloth. “The heat from the sun is the worst!” she sighs. “And the locals cross themselves every time it gets dark or lightning flashes. Every time I go out, I see them crossing themselves. They should be saving their calloused hands. The locals’ nerves are shot,” Gami complains seriously, rambling.
“Why do you say that?” Mina says quietly. “People are talking to the sky, giving thanks.”
“They’re afraid of everything, asking for protection. Why protect yourself from lightning? If it’s your fate, it will find you and strike, no matter how much you hide. And why be afraid of the rain? You say you went out. A couple of drops fell from the sky, and a man crossed himself. What kind of people. They should have plowed the field and sown the seeds instead. The land is just sitting there idle.”
“You talk like a grown-up,” Helgamina observes.
“And I am a grown-up!” she brings a shine to the candlestick. “Not just men, all people are like little children. They act funny and silly! Why are we sitting in a dilapidated house? We’re lighting it with candles. They say the town has electricity. Light bulbs. And we’re lagging behind life. My dress is older than Helgamina. We sit here, the four of us, and life passes us by. It’s passing right there,” she points out the window, pulling her arm away from the sun. “Life is out there, and we are here. That doesn’t seem right. I don’t like it.”
“Then go, live the life you like, the one you talk about,” Mina snaps. Mina can't stand it. He wants to change, too, but nothing good is on the horizon.
“Why should I go alone? Let’s go together!” she seizes the idea.
“Let’s go! But in the evening. The moon is gentler on the skin at night,” Mina agrees.

“Let’s drink the juice and go!” Gami peers out the window, bravely showing her face to the night.
“I’ll take some with me,” Mina pours juice into a bottle. She puts on her favorite dress with a hem a little narrower than usual. “It’s easier to walk in this,” she justifies the dress’s slight immodesty to Helgamina.
“What about me? Do I have to wear the old one again?” Gami asks, disappointed.
“Take one of my new ones. I haven’t worn this one yet. Maybe the girl who lived here before left it. We’ll make it shorter,” Mina expertly gathers up the hem, hems it with a needle. “We’ll take it in. And lift it,” she shortens the straps with a few stitches. “It looks tailor-made for you!”
“Thank you!” Gami is rarely happy. Gratitude is usually out of the question. “Let’s go quickly!”
“We’re off. Don’t be bored,” Mina says goodbye to Helgamina and Heli. They’ll be going to bed soon, but the girls have the whole night ahead of them, until dawn.
“That’s one good thing about not having parents,” Gami notes. “You can roam as long as you want. If it weren’t for the sun, I wouldn’t ever come home. Watch out, be careful here.”
“Thanks,” Mina carefully steps around a hole filled with branches. “And is Helgamina not like a parent to us? Or a grandmother.”
“More like a friend. She doesn’t forbid us anything. She’s always waiting for parents herself. Hers or ours, to take us away quickly. Can you imagine living a whole life like that?” Gami pictures it with horror.
“Honestly, I can’t imagine a whole life. But thirty years of waiting for parents is tiring and tedious. Through disappointment, anger, and despair, you keep waiting every day. And every morning you think, ‘Today’s the day! They’ll come back. Or one of them will’. You’re waiting for your father more because you’re as strong as a boy. You need control. But I’m tired of being strong. I need motherly affection,” Mina says tenderly.
“I don’t even know what I want anymore. I’m so angry at everything and everyone!” Gami throws a stone into the bushes, and birds fly out.
“You won’t sleep yourself and you won’t let others sleep!” Mina scolds her with a smile.
“They shouldn’t be sleeping if we’re not! They should come with us to the town. They can look at people and show themselves off.”
“Let’s hurry!” Mina listens anxiously to a rustling sound in the grass.
“You scaredy-cat!” Gami teases. She speeds up when she hears the same sound.
“We need to go that way,” Mina rushes toward the first streetlamp on the corner, at the end of the last street.
“Where should we go to hang out?” Gami asks, in a good mood. “Let’s go straight to where all the drinkers and dancers gather. I want to dance too.”
“It’s too early for you to be out with adults,” Mina adjusts her dress and Gami’s. “If you dance, the straps might tear and the dress will fall off. Be ready.”
“I’ll catch it,” the girl answers confidently. “Look how they dance,” she peeks into the window of a local bar. “Let’s go inside.”
“We can’t,” Mina insists. “Men will bother me. And they’ll scold you. You’re so little, and you’re not asleep yet. I suspect they might bother you too. Let’s just keep walking, for a stroll,” she turns around. Gami walks into the bar. “Wait!” Mina runs after the girl. She rushes in. Everyone freezes, mouths agape. One man quickly drinks his shot, looks at the entrance, crosses himself, and holds his breath.
“Get them out of here!” a piercing female scream shatters the silence like a crystal glass. The bottle of juice slips from Mina’s hands and breaks. “What filth!” the bolder men chase out the snakes, mice, birds, ferrets, and locusts that have poured into the bar with the girls’ arrival. Glasses, bottles, and chairs fly at the creatures. Women squeal and hide under the bar counter.
“Let’s get out of here,” Mina says, seeing Gami frozen by the shower of broken glass. “Strange people. It’s dangerous to go near them.”
“Why did all those animals come?” the girl wonders.
“Maybe they ran toward the light,” Mina suggests.
“Did you see how frantic they got, as if the devil himself arrived or they saw a ghost,” Gami laughs. Mina can’t help laughing either. They walk down the dark street, laughing. “Even their pets are wild,” cats hiss at the girls, horses shy away, and dogs run off with their tails between their legs.
“They’re not used to fashionable women’s dresses,” Mina says importantly. “Did you see how the women are dressed? Everything is so dull, drooping, without petticoats. I don’t even want to remember it. It looks vulgar,” she turns away with disgust.
“They’re scattering,” Gami looks with a smile at the people running in all directions, along with the rodents and reptiles. “The winged ones have it good. They just flutter away and don’t hear the screams.”
“Did you notice they’re not eating each other?” Mina points out.
“A nighttime truce,” Gami jokes. “Civilized people with wild ones. They’re crossing themselves again. Did you see?” she laughs, mimicking the gesture. She doesn’t finish the sign of the cross; her arm suddenly feels heavy.
“The locals consider such creatures vermin, harbingers of evil spirits, I think.”
“If evil spirits wanted to come, they wouldn’t send so many small animals,” Gami reasons. “There were so many harbingers, and yet no one appeared.”
“Good evening, ladies,” a strong male voice addresses them. “Why are lovely beauties walking in such a troublesome town at this hour?” He steps between them and takes them by the arms.
“We’re looking for a groom for Mina,” Gami smirks.
“Stop it!” Mina pulls away. “We’re going home,” she draws the younger girl toward her. “Don’t talk to strangers,” she instructs seriously.
“A stranger?” the man protests with a smile. “Everyone knows me. And not just here,” he outlines the brim of his hat with a finger.
“We don’t know you. And we don’t need to,” Mina replies dryly and harshly.
“Going home?” He looks calmly at the women.
“Yes! And right now!” Mina answers, not looking at the stranger.
“But isn’t your house in the other direction?” He looks toward the house with a smirk.
“Mina, we came from the direction of the house,” Gami whispers. Fear intensifies inside her.
“Let him leave us alone, then we’ll turn back home. Gami, be quiet,” Mina says softly.
“Don’t be afraid of me. We are kind, eternal neighbors,” he says softly, moving away.
“We don’t have neighbors!” Mina turns around. The street is empty. Only the commotion near the bar can be heard in the distance. The brave ones, eager for a drink, return to their revelry. “Let’s hurry! Men are obsessed at this time of night,” a lump of fear is props up her diaphragm, making it difficult to breathe. Gami says nothing at all. She walks, eyes wide open. She’s afraid to blink. What if the man in the hat suddenly appears in front of them? She remembers all the scary tales she’s heard in her life. Now she realizes that she’s not grown up yet. She’s scared like a little girl. She doesn’t know that adults are afraid exactly the same way. Sometimes more so. Fear has no age. Everyone is afraid. “See, people are having fun again,” Mina soothes her, passing the bar.
“They’re crossing themselves again, looking at the door,” Gami notices.
“Fear stays in the soul,” they make their way through the steppe. They run into the house and lock the door with the bolt. They sit, hugging each other. They can’t catch their breath. They’re terrified.

I am not urging anyone to do anything.

All events and characters are fictional.

Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

I sincerely apologize if I have offended anyone.

Highly Recommended Age: 18+

The author bears no responsibility for the reader's perception of the book.