The Light in the Fall

The package appears on a normal Autumn morning. It’s one of those days that starts like any other and holds the expectation that nothing will change. Everything is as it should be. Waiting for the kettle to boil, I stand at the kitchen window watching the rainy morning unfold. Neighbours hurry by with umbrellas and yellow raincoats, sparrows bathe in puddles, and a cat races from the shelter of one tree to the next, trying to stay dry. The whistle of the kettle breaks my focus and brings me back to myself; the familiar routine of making tea and settling into the window seat to read. The mesmerizing sound of the rain on the window, the warm steam from the tea cup, and the blanket I have tucked into, lulls me into relaxation and soft focus. 

I’m unsure if minutes or hours have gone by as I am caught off guard by a light rap on the door. Rising from my seat, I move slowly towards the front door, placing the tea cup in the sink as I pass by. The window is empty and I hear nothing. Locks unlatched and doorknob turned, I open the door expecting to find nothing. At first I think maybe my mind has played tricks on me; no one is there and no one is nearby. Going to close the door, I notice an unassuming box resting on the stoop. The address label is hand written in an unfamiliar script but has my name written clearly. I try to recall if I am awaiting a package or if I was expecting something and cannot come up with anything. 

Reaching for a knife, I move to open the package I’ve brought inside. The contents reveal themselves to be a sealed envelope addressed with my name, and leather-bound book beneath it. Something in my chest clenches at the sight of the illustration on the cover; a gold foiled star surrounded by an ouroboros. Getting up from the table I rush to my bedroom to grab a necklace buried deep in the safety of my jewelry box. The piece of jewelry was a gift from a father I never knew, a gift left for me when I was born and my father walked out. I knew nothing of this man aside from what I’d been told. My mother’s words served as a warning all these years, she warned he wasn’t someone I’d ever be safe knowing. So, I never did, I rarely remembered he existed. If I wasn’t careful, today could be the day that changes everything. 

Venturing back out of the bedroom, I sat as far from the package as I could. It suddenly felt like it was taking up all the space in the house. I couldn’t look anywhere without seeing it, even as I tried to avoid it. It was omnipresent. My thoughts raced and my mind felt so loud that I tried to plug my ears, realizing only after that it would be no help. Maybe I needed to move it out of sight, maybe I needed to distract myself, maybe what I really needed to do was leave for a while and clear my head. As fast as the thought came was as fast as I managed to bounce up, don my jacket, and head outside. 

It wasn’t possible for my legs to take me as far away from the house as I needed. My mind whirled, what could this be? What could he want with me after 30 years and having never met? My heavy steps did me no favours as the water on the sidewalks splashed, the cold from the day seeping into my legs. Slowing down, I loosed a breath and focused on breathing evenly. I could feel the pound of my pulse in my throat and the familiar feeling of anxiety having taken its hold on me. What I needed most was to calm down and think things through. What were the options? Had I mistaken the marking on the book for the match to my necklace? If I hadn't been mistaken, what could he want from me now? What reason could there be for sending me a letter and a mysterious tome.  

As the morning shifted into afternoon, I found myself shivering and knew I wouldn’t last for much longer in the rain. Reluctantly stopping, I adjusted my path to lead me back home. My eyes immediately darted to the package on the table as I walked back inside. 

“Okay, you win.” I call to the box, “just give me a minute.”

Changing into dry clothes, gathering my shaking limbs, I went to sit in front of the package once more. Holding my necklace in my hand and comparing it to the book only made me more sure of its sender. Maybe if I stared long enough it would disappear. Maybe it would spontaneously combust and I’d never have to know what the letter read; or, maybe, if I closed my eyes for long enough, time would go back and I’d never have received it in the first place. 

My trembling hands reached into the box to grab the envelope. The letter felt thin between my fingers, but, the weight of it felt immeasurable. I could have sworn that I felt a small spark of electricity upon first touching it. As I ripped the top of the envelope open it seemed as if a fine dust spread into the air. No, it wasn’t dust in the air, it was a swirling shimmer. The air now held the familiar scent of cinnamon and autumn leaves. What was this? My fingers reached into the envelope to retrieve a modest, single-page, handwritten letter. It held only a few lines of fine script. Unfolded, the letter read:

‘Dearest daughter, 

If this letter finds you, know I am gone. 

Know that I loved you from afar. 

Know that I would have stayed if I could.

Know that it was only for your safety.

Your life is going to open up in ways I wish I could have stayed to witness.

The tome included is both a fairy-tale and a story of my life.

Know that my world is different and know that you are of that world.

If this letter found you and I am gone, know that I succeeded.

You are safe in whatever path you choose.

You are safe, loved, and watched over from the beyond.

My apologies will never be enough to ease the pain I caused you by leaving, so I will not try.

You are magic. You are treasured.

Your journey is just beginning.

Love, your father.’

Looking up from the letter, the air shimmers and glows. It’s as if a lifetime of anxiety lifts from my chest and floats away into nothingness. Everything feels lighter. As I reach into the box and grab the tome, a feeling of warmth and love rushes over me. I open to the first page as a trail of tears fall from my eye, landing on the introduction. 

‘Once upon a time…’