“Once upon a time there was a magical, far-away land where anything was possible, everything awaited to happen. A kingdom with kings, queens, princes and princesses, fairytale characters, stores and alchemists. Flutists, musicians and various artists. Colours and love, hot and cold, enchanted woods, great trees and beautiful flowers…
Everything, absolutely everything that anyone could imagine”…


Cloe was a young girl that grew up listening to the stories that her Grandma always told the kids from the place under a strange tree where she now lived with her Grandpa. It was a tall though austere and bent green apple tree which was about to fall, with its poor roots in a plant pot two sizes too small. Its growing in such a scarce area of land was already considered a miracle.
But anything could happen in that strange place, surrounded by a stone wall and a railway with a greenish kind-of-abandoned train.
A place where there was only night, only stars fading in and out, as in our world, but here when stars disappeared, a dark blue, almost black cloak covered the whole stellar sky.
There was no sun or moon either. Only the tree, the train and a kaleidoscope that Grandpa had given Cloe bore colour – as coming from another world, not belonging to that place.
Grandma, who had an epicurean inclination, liked to call this place “Le pue le blanc and black” – a blend of English and French to say the black and white town.

Cloe enjoyed going out to the balcony every night and see how the first star made its appearance in the sky, how it was left alone for a while to be then joined by hundreds and thousands of other stars, floating, hanging from invisible threads in the middle of nowhere. Just like the stars in the sky, the camp where the kids lived, lighted up every night.
And she used to stare, as keeping an eye on the light game that took place in the dark.

But that day… that day was like no other. She discovered a faint light glimmering in the horizon. It was a soft light but it was the first time she saw it. She went inside to fetch the binoculars, and after adjusting them, she got a sharp picture, but she didn’t know what it was.
She went back in again, went up the spiral stairs located in the heart of the big tree and entered a peculiar place, a studio half black and white and the other coloured. In our world it would be considered cutting edge, although it was old and modern, fitted with solar panels, small wind mills, inventions and eccentricities of an old man with his nose lost in materials and tools, designing, between the past and the future.

“Grandpa!” Cloe interrupted.
Startled, her grandfather looked up quickly and then adjusted his big yellow plastic glasses that covered half of his face.
“What’s going on dear? You scared me.”
“Grandpa, I saw a light in the horizon and it’s not from the camp… It was far, far away, and didn’t belong here.”
“It was probably a new star that your uncle has painted just for you.”
“No, no, it wasn’t up, it was down, besides… I saw it through the binoculars and it was a different kind of light. Come and take a look at it.”
He was almost dragged by Cloe to the window. There was definitely something in the horizon.
“Well, there it is,” said grandpa turning around.
Cloe stepped in his way and stared at him with eager and inquiring eyes – knowing that he was not going to be able to ease her curiosity.
“What is it? I have never seen it before.”
“You’ve never really observed it, but it has always been there…”
“I want to go,” said Cloe stopping him dead. “What is it?”
“Well, it’s another city… or did you believe we were the only ones in the whole place?”
“I want to go, I want to see it.”
“That place… it is dangerous, Cloe.”
“I’m bored here, please Grandpa.”
“Since when are you bored? Why? If here…” Cloe interrupted his grandfather.
“Phew! Since I can remember, it’s just that I never told you about it. Actually, since Grandma started telling those stories, of such wonderful places, so fantastic characters. Since then, since that first day, Grandpa. My imagination begun to wonder free, willing to discover more than this.”
He gaped at her. He knew that if his granddaughter was just like him, this moment would eventually come. That he could not control it, but he could definitely prevent all the rest from happening.
“I wonder why Grandma told you those stories.” And after a pause he added, “Okay, but you will need some things, you can’t go like that, with nothing. I know that place.”

The grandfather opened a cupboard and took a case that he then laid on the table. Inside the box was a small pouch. He put his hand in it, took a key and said:
“This key will open the gate.”
He put the key back in the pouch and handed it to Cloe. He then took a map and several pictures which he spread on the table for her to see.
“Look, you will be going here.”
He pointed it in the map and gave her a compass.
“Use it if you get lost, okay?” He added quickly but doubtful. “You will definitely need new clothes, yours won’t do.”
The grandfather dusted off the sewing machine that slept under his bed and begun to sew together some old clothes that had been brought from the other world. Olive greens from old suits and masculine browns were mixed with sundresses - that belonged to her grandmother – lace edgings and flowers. He then added some buttons, pockets and his personal stylish and vanguard touch.
“It must protect you from the rain, the sun and the wind. You must also take care of your hands; we will make you a hood, gloves and a bag to carry everything. The train no longer works, so you will have to follow the rail road and stay close to it. I’ll make you a bicycle.
The grandfather worked the whole night. At first, Cloe gazed at his performance, but tiredness beat her, and she eventually fell deeply asleep. Every now and then, the grandfather looked at her with tender eyes and then resumed his work.

After a while, not so many hours later, he put his gentle hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder.

“Wake up, it’s time,” the grandfather whispered in her ear. “Everything is ready,” he said like a child. “It’s better if you leave at dawn.”
Cloe opened her eyes and saw her grandfather eager to show her what he had prepared for her.
“Grandpa! Is all this for me?”
“Yes, you are going to need it. And I want to give you something else,” he sighed looking down, “something that… I would like you… I would like to ask you a favor,” he said, doubtful.
“Just look through it, try to focus and… pow! Shoot!” he said passionately. Cloe jumped back, frightened.
Her grandfather gave her an old camera.
“Bring it back to me just as it is now, don’t touch anything. I would like to see what the place looks like now.”
“I look, focus and shoot, with this button?”
“Yes, but you must keep your eyes wide open, you must watch, observe, It’s wholly, an art. A lot of things may occur without you noticing them, they move silently on your back, escaping your sight. It’s just a split second, but if you watch closely enough you will be able to capture them and keep them inside here.”
“In this little black box? keep an instant? I don’t understand. And why does everything move so fast there? Are they in a hurry?”
“There, my dear Cloe, light reflects on a geometrical lens capable of acting like a prism that deflects, refines and amplifies light in amazing ways. Between each coordinates of light there is a space where a shadow appears. There you will find creation. That is why it is so ephemeral.”
“I don’t get it,” said Cloe trying to figure it out.
Her grandfather rolled his eyes knowing that her granddaughter would never try to understand his scientific terms.
“Lights and shadows dance together to give birth to beautiful shapes – if everything is still the way we left it. It is a dance that faints as fast as it appears, that’s why you need to be alert. All of a sudden …boom! And before you know it, it’s gone.”
“How do you know about all that? You’ve spent most of your life here.”
“My grandfather taught me everything there is to know about the art of life and the art of war. He said they were twin sisters, two similar ladies living on Earth.
For life, you need to pay the same exquisite attention as in battle, the same strength, feel the same power. But, instead of fear running through your veins, you have courage, instead destroying, you want to build, instead of taking away, you want to share. They are the same wheel spinning in opposite directions.
He told me that they were like a game. War is for grownups and life for kids because only they know the true meaning of life. He also said that when you grow up, you play like a scared kid, and, on the other hand, kids always play like brave grownups. They are alike sisters that can be easily confused. That’s why he did everything in his power to preserve the kids.
He knew that the day would come when a flipped coin would no longer fall by chance on a side, the day in which it would be stopped in the air and the face of the lady that they want to see would be purposely chosen.”
“And what would they choose?” asked Cloe.
“You tell me,” said the man seriously.
Cloe knew that that question had hit a nerve and remained silent for a while.
“The kids’ side,” she assured him, choosing like a child, thinking like a child, wisely about what they want to do or be. Like a child bored by games of chance, and never be carried away.

“Go, change yourself and put everything away, I’ll wait for you outside,” the grandfather told her, changing the subject.

Cloe went down the stairs, begun to change her clothes and to put everything her grandfather had given her: the map, the compass, the pen, the notebook, a box with little separators, inside an odd bag full of pockets.
Cloe put on the little pouch with the key while she laughed about the witness and craziness of her grandfather.

“Hurry up or you’ll miss the sunrise on the road!” he shouted from outside.

Already dressed up and with the boots on, she dashed downstairs feeling really weird without her everyday pajamas.

“Ha! How elegant!” said her grandfather, amused. He took her by the hand and made her spin around. “Gorgeous, and the design is pretty nice for such old clothes.”
“What’s this?” she asked intrigued, staring at the bike.
“You’ll surely appreciate it, you will travel faster. Walking would take you forever. I customized it with some personal ideas, for instance this roof that can be attached or removed at wish, this small cart for carrying things, and other details that you’ll discover along the way,” he said enthusiastically while moving his fingers.
“Why should I take so many things grandpa?”
“You must bring anything useful, fabrics, seeds… anything you come across that doesn’t exist here.”
“Grandpa, please, take care of the kids, and tell them I went for a walk and that I’ll be back soon.”
“Return before dark. Always get out when the last star disappears and go in when the first star appears. And, remember, be careful, it’s a dangerous place!”
Her grandfather gave her an apple that Cloe put in her bag.
“For the road, in case you get hungry.”
After several failed attempts while receiving instructions from her grandfather, she learned how to keep balance and was able to ride the bicycle.
“Don’t stop, don’t hesitate. Go, go.”
“I love you Grandpa!”
He raised his right hand to the air, pressed the other one against his chest and smiled.

At first, Cloe rode next to the rail road that went straight, straight to the horizon, until she reached a gate, the only way to go through the big wall. She looked for the key in her pouch, opened the gate and kept going while she observed amazed – since it was the first time she saw such a colourful picture – how the last star faded away in the sky and the blue turned into violet with faded traces of red, which then turned into orange, until eventually the yellow sun appeared.
She was still riding when the clouds begun to enclose her. Taken aback by the unknown strong wind, she put her hood on and kept riding.
It was an endless road that leaded her to a very dark and spooky town, in such state of decay and non-inhabitance that made her feel uneasy. A completely empty place where you could breathe desolation. The only coloured thing so far had been the sky from the ride, but then everything turned gray.

“Mmm, this is it?” She thought out loud. “What a disappointment!”

She kept riding and, despite everything, took some pictures of the place. After riding and riding, seeing houses in ruins and collapsed roofs, she saw a black cat passing by. She followed it round the city, until it climbed the roof of a house. Cloe begun to listen to a piano that followed the rhythm of the cat’s steps, as if the sound came from the tiles it stepped on. The feline then climbed as high as possible and stopped to rest near a smoking chimney and some green branches that seemed to protrude from the heart of the house.
Cloe gazed at the never-before-seen white smoke and followed the sound of the piano until she came across a small piece of light blue sky that begun to spread.
She got closer to the house, went down some steps, knocked on the door but nobody answered. She sat on the stairs waiting for someone to arrive.
The piano stopped playing and, behind her, the lock clicked, but she did not realize what was going on. She kept waiting until finally she stood up and took a picture of the house, the smoke and the meddling green leaves.

“Go away!” a voice shouted from inside the house. “Now, go! Go away from here, as long as I, Rebecca, am still alive you won’t be able to knock down this place!”

Cloe dashed down the stairs and begged:
“Please, let me come in, I just want to talk to you, I would like to know what this place is. I’m a neighbour from a nearby city, I won’t hurt you.”
“How do I know that you’re not lying?”
“Eh, well, I don’t know. I think you’ll just have to trust me.”
She unbolted the door, opened it enough to peep with one blue eye at Cloe’s eyes. She then closed and re-opened the door, still a little suspicious.
“Come in,” said the old lady.
“Thank you.”
“Take a sit,” she said, sharply.
Cloe sat down.
“Look, I don’t buy what they say that they will pay me all that money for this house. You know what? I couldn’t care less about money, I was born here and I shall die here. And if they wish to destroy the city, then okay, there’s nothing I can do about it, but not my house. Not my house. Have you heard me? Now go and tell your friends what I have said. Knock it down, but with me in it.”
“I really don’t have the slightest idea of what you’re talking about, madam. I just came to see this place, and this was the only house that showed any signs of life, so I went closer. And I would like to know…”
“What do you want to know?” asked the old lady, frowning impatiently.
“What is this place? Why is it so deserted? Why are you alone? Who are the people you are talking about?”
“Okay, okay, don’t push it. I will answer all your questions, but one at a time, be patient, remember I’m just an old lady.”

The lady begun to tell her a story slowly, pausing every so often.

“Many years ago, this was a very beautiful town. I can almost remember it. There were men, women and children, water run under the bridges; there were flowers and gatherings, dances and love. But, one day, those happy faces were hit head on by the news: a war will come.
Someone would attack, someone would fight back, and that would bring consequences. My grandfather had already been in a war and he had seen how kids tried to protect everything in their reach. He saw the eyes of those attacking, the fear in those defending themselves, but he also saw the innocence and tenderness of the little ones that could not understand what was going on. He could never erase that picture from his mind. And when the possibility of another war was announced, he had an idea. He would take all the children from the city to a far away land and would take care of them with my grandmother until it was safe to return.”

There was a long pause and she resumed the story.
“But they haven’t returned yet.”
“And you? Why haven’t you gone?”
“Well, the plan was that during that night all houses would turn off their lights and as soon as the train turned on its lights, all the children would sneak as fast as possible and get in the train. The blue night was filled with white pajamas running in the dark, and the only visible light came from the small lamps that they had made with grandpa. Imagine it, he did everything he could to make them feel that this was an important moment. He previously asked the parents to prepare a big Christmas-like meal, to put a tree and to give them presents that they would take to the far-away place. He was a great man. But that day he requested that all houses be left in the dark, only lit by some candles, I don’t know, a defense strategy against the enemy, he said.
I was really scared of the dark. I did not want to leave my mom. I was terrified by the idea of being somewhere else. So I decided to hide under my bed, and cry. I didn’t want to leave the house or my parents. How could the rest of the children believe my grandfather’s story of them going camping to a wonderful playground? A camp! My God! That was not true. Nevertheless, although I was furious, I was going to go. I didn’t want to be away from my grandparents, and especially from Santiago, my brother, who always took care of me and defended me.” The old lady was wandering deep in her memories.

“And then?” asked Cloe.
“We had dinner and we opened the presents. I was given a set of hollow wooden dolls that fit one into the other, from bigger to smaller, and he was given a kaleidoscope.”
Cloe kept analyzing everything in her mind.
“And then I went back under my bed, there was nothing for me to celebrate, all looked like a sham to me. After a while, Santiago came in and brought me an apple on a dish and a knife. He sat down and tried to calm me down while he cut the fruit:

‘I brought you a magic apple, it’s neither red nor green, it’s a mix of both.’
‘I’m scared.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be there to protect you. We will be safe there. It’s just temporary, until the war is over.’
‘Do you promise?’
‘I promise. Word of honor. Now eat the apple. You haven’t eaten anything at dinner, and I still have some things to do. Grandpa named me leader of the troop. I must get ready for such commitment.’
‘What troop? You mean orphans! He wants you to believe it’s just a game so that everyone would go in that train. Grandpa is lying,’ said Rebecca angry. She looked at the apple in Santiago’s hand and said, ‘We always share half and half, keep it in your bag so that you can eat it in the train.’
Santiago begun to think of something when he heard his mother calling.
‘Santiago, Santiago!’


Meanwhile, old Rebecca prepared some tea for Cloe.
“This tea is very special. It has sliced almonds toasted with honey, a trickle of milk, and a pinch of cinnamon.”
“Thank you Rebecca, it sounds delicious.”

At the same time, Santiago was getting ready, nervous. Santiago’s mother got him ready by giving him advice, warning him; his grandfather would be at the end of the city and he, at the beginning, which meant that he had to make sure everyone got in the train while his grandfather made sure that everyone left the city.
The train turned on its lights, Santiago took all his belongings, the mother put his present in the bag, gave him the little Christmas tree so that he would always remember her, and pushed him out of the house to the street so that he had no second thoughts. Santiago turned around, with his hands full of things, and saw his mother crying. The mother waved her hand to tell him to keep running. It all happened to fast, the kids were running and abandoning as fast as possible the city. It was a mix of hurry and excitement, but less poetic. They needed to run like the wind, clear, clean and invisible to the eyes of the enemy, as grandpa used to say. They had rehearsed for the past months and everything went as planned, except for one thing.

The kids sat on the train seats. Some of them were celebrating, others were crying, others were looking through the window. There was a variety of reactions among those little men and women that were going far away, to take care of themselves.
Doors closed. The train started its engine and moved.
Santiago was tired. He collapsed in his seat and took a deep breath. Through the window he saw the city disappearing, he looked down and saw the bulge in the little pouch. He opened his eyes wide, puzzled, stunned feeling like the world had halted and his blood had stopped flowing. It could not be true. Of course not. He desperately looked for someone behind but he knew that she had never left her hideout.
This was like a nightmare, wanting to wake up, to stop the world, to stop the train and go back. He knew it was impossible to do it with that train; however, he ran to his grandfather and said, “Rebecca is still there… Rebecca is still there… Rebecca is there on the war!!! We must go back, we must go back!!! I promised to her, I promised I would take care of her forever!!”
The grandparents look at him, terrified.
“What do you mean Rebecca is still there?” the grandfather asked, “I’m afraid we can’t go back, we can’t…. the train was especially built to go forward and not backwards… not for the time being…”
Santiago’s eyes were full of tears. “What went wrong, grandpa? The plan was perfect… this shouldn’t have happened,” he said.

The girl’s eyes were opened by the sun. She saw the half apple in one hand and the wooden doll in the other.
“They are gone…” she whispered.

She decided to stay there, protect herself while listening to her mother’s cry and the consolation of her father because the kids were gone.
Later, he listened to the radio, the noise, a lot of noise. She heard screams. She heard everything but saw nothing. Everything was dark, except when she half-opened her eyes and let in a bit of light. She forced her eyes to remain shut but it was difficult to close her ears.
Until one day, the silence was complete.

She made sure there had passed several days of silence until she came out of her hideout. Suddenly, she was not a kid anymore. She was strong. She was not afraid of the darkness anymore.
She sat on a chair in the living room around the mess but noticed that everything was safe and sound. Especially her mother’s white piano and her father’s bookcase.

She stayed in her house and never came out. She decided to plant the seeds of her apple in the small backyard. Meanwhile, she straightened up the place and tried to make it look beautiful. She was still alive, that was somehow a miracle.

“Weren’t you sad? Did you cry?” asked Cloe.
“You know, Cloe? In those moments, you become strong and you simply realize that you don’t have another choice.”

Another miracle was beginning in her garden. One of the seeds in the dark soil decided to grow and, with all its strength, look for the light on the surface. Its light, white shoots travelled through all the brown earth leaving a little path of roots in its way . And one day, thanks to this, its other part could see the sun.
Its whiteness became greenness which then turned into brownness from the hardening That ended in branches.
Meanwhile, its other part continued rising, trying to reach the sky and, feeling the air, leaves sprouted along with the invisible movement that danced around it. But that was not enough. Then it wanted to fly and it formed white flowers full of scent and perfume to go with the air in its trip.
But the other part wanting to stay in the tree, sheltered water in the flower, hardened by its warmth creating a delicious fruit where there would be more seeds to grow new trees.
And, as if by magic, faster than usual, that tree had grown up.
A lot.
Rebecca was very happy and watched it every day.
In the nights it rained and when she woke up early, the dawn delighted her with thousand of little clear drops on the leaves. She sat and waited the sun to shine on them, so they looked like diamonds, until the heat made them disappear in the air.
She wondered where all that water went, how it was possible to suddenly disappear.
She also used to look at the clovers that were at the foot of the tree and wondered about the mystery of the four-leaf clover. All of them where three-leaf clovers and from time to time, a four-leaf clover came out, depending on what?

One day she woke up with the song of a bird that was in her tree, it seemed to be the last shelter in the city. That was how the birds arrived and settled down in that tree, which was the only one around. They made their nests and sheltered their eggs there.
She received birds and butterflies that visited her in groups and by season, sang serenades and some provoked her tenderness and others were very funny.

Rebecca stood up form the chair and said to Cloe, “Come, I’ll show you the garden”.

They entered into a very beautiful garden, a bit cramped; there was no more space for flowers or fruits. Even the balcony of the window of the upper floor exploded with multicolored geraniums.
“How beautiful!” Cloe said.
“This is more than beautiful,” said Rebecca and continued, “I knew when the groups were coming. I used to sit and attentively wait for them. In appreciation for taking them in, they flew high and far away bringing seeds from different places. And the sun shone again for me, with them I started creating my own little paradise… my cramped garden that would light up my life and fill it with sense. Soon, very soon, a great variety of fruits and vegetables of different kinds, colors and scents started to grow. I took care of them and they took care of me.

But one day the sun stopped shining strongly and was not as present as before, it was soft, warm. I realized it was going to another place. Then the cold came and the rain, too. The fruits fell down, the birds were also gone. I was scared.
I thought my garden was dying.
That day I cried all the tears I haven’t cried before. Sadly, I collected all the fruits that I hadn’t eaten, watered not only by sky but also by the water coming out form my eyes. I cried for Santiago, my mom, my dad, my grandparents, my friends. I cried in quantity and quality.
And afterwards I felt so good that I decided that if the sky cried in autumn, I would to.
I went into the house and put the seeds in a wooden box separated by species. I wrote down the birds and butterflies that visited me and the days they stayed. I wrote what I remembered and kept what I thought was worth it. Meanwhile the cold and the snow covered my garden and I was sad but I entertained myself creating my own laboratory.

One day the sun came back, everything sprouted again and it was then, that over the years, I began to know the secrets of the seasons, how everything was born, grew, died and was born again… each summer, each autumn, each winter, each spring was a celebration, always something new happened… After all, I always got tired of being all day outside with the birds singing and when the silence arose I went into the house and started listening to whispers in the kitchen, between the cinnamon and the saffron, as if they were calling me, and that was my lab and I learnt to prepare teas, oils, beverages and different kinds of food with each fruit, with each seed…”

While Rebecca was talking, Cloe took pictures.
“When I got older I saw other things in the flowers, a new world opened up before me and matters became serious. Where I used to see bellflowers or hats, I saw their harmony, geometry and the perfect proportions, the stars in the earth, the circles and hexagons looking at the sun.
Through the years, I heard the birds singing differently, their songs, their silences, their sharps. I accompanied them with my mom’s piano. It was like music lessons. They were my teachers and this was my school. I grew up and since then I’ve been putting words to many things thanks to some books that were still in the bookcase.”

“Everything sounds beautiful,” said Cloe, excited.
“Yes, but there’s always something missing”, answered Rebecca.
“What?” Cloe asked, almost knowing the answer.
“To share all this with someone else. I’ve always dreamt of sharing this beauty with someone else. How was it possible to be all for myself? I’ve waited for the children to come back and meanwhile I grew bigger and older and then I didn’t wait anymore for them. I was expecting young people. Then I waited for mothers and fathers and now I’m waiting for grandparents.
I’m happy and grateful of having stayed here, although sometimes I wonder why he forgot about me… although sometimes I get sad when I think of him, thinking how is he or even if he is still alive,” nostalgia and silence emerged between them, until Rebecca continued, “But I learnt to live in the mystery of not knowing, in the deep silence that floods when there are no answers. There is a beautiful presence of nothing, of emptiness but also of surprise.”

Rebecca looked Cloe in the eye for a while. “Your look is familiar, come…”

They went up the stairs between the geraniums of velvety leaves and went to the upper floor of the house. There were more and more flowers, small and big ones, oak drawers and tiny drawers that Rebecca opened for Cloe.
“There are 70 autumns in here. All the flowers and fruits turned into seeds that didn’t fit in my garden. And they almost fit in here, the garden overflows outside and in here.” Rebecca said.
Cloe watch them. There were thousands of different sizes, almost all of them were brown.
“How is it possible that something so small and colorless contains flowers of different forms and extravagant colours? Or exotic, delicious fruits, vegetables full of iron? You look at them and seem to not have any sense…”
Rebecca laughed.
“That’s a secret, thank God, that they would never revealed to me to surprise me with the gift that is going to come. Every spring a little package with lots of colourful filled wrappings opens before me. And I don’t know why and I’m not sure how.
But I kept them to plant them in another place. Or by this stage, for someone to do it for me… but my dream was to be present at that moment. To see it with my own eyes, to see my dream come true after so many years.”
“Which was it?” Cloe asked, knowing the answer.
“The children coming back in that train to play with them again. That was my last dream, to see how they would scattered the seeds over this city I loved so much, to see how the city would become alive again. To see it its rebirth.”
“Why do you talk as if you don’t dream it anymore?”
“Because I’ve waited too long and the children never appeared through that window, but two men did with plans to demolish everything and built something different. No laughters, no dances, no families, no rivers, no bridges, no flowers, no trees, nothing that was here before. I’m old now, I enjoyed what I had to and waited what I had to. Maybe, that belonged to the past, maybe, that belonged to that moment and it won’t never come back.”
Cloe was speechless. She looked carefully to Rebecca and turned her eyes to the garden window.

“Rebecca, I should go home before the sunset”
“Sure, here, take this apple for the trip”
“Thanks, but… I have one…” she said, touching her bag, “ but, let’s do something, I’ve never taste red apples, I’ll give you mine and I’ll take yours.”

They exchanged apples. Rebecca looked at her confused.

“Would you come back to visit me?” the old lady asked tenderly.
Cloe looked her in the eye, opened her mouth to speak with determination but she stopped and answered a with her deepest silence , full of meaning, full of promises that she did not know if she could keep. But one thing was sure, she would try.
“I don’t know. Perhaps,” said Cloe, timidly.
Rebecca smiled, “I liked it… that’s the truth…”


Cloe rode her bike, she felt complete but her mid was empty, no thoughts, no plans… she rode… and then again the sky transforming its colours, and the yellow of the sun became orange with a pinch of red, and then the violet turned blue, which wrapped everything in a night package, making Cloe feel trapped.

The first star appeared in the sky when she obediently entered her house. Her grandfather was asleep in his couch, waiting for her. When he heard her, he jumped. “So? How was it?” asked her grandpa startled.
“Good,” said Cloe shortly.
“Good? Only good? Is there something there? Is there any life? Are there seeds? Are there animals, or humans?”
“Yes Grandpa, there are lots of seeds.”
“Fantastic! We have to bring them all, we will plant them here. We would make our own paradise.”
“Grandpa, this soil isn’t fertile, this tree barely has roots because you planted the seeds you brought of that half apple in a small pot with a Christmas tree and now it is still alive thanks to your love for this place, nothing else… it is the only thing we have. And this tree, you know, it’s going to fall down any time. Where do you want to plant all those seeds? There is no sun, no water or wind. Now I realize that all your inventions are worthless here. Those inventions belong there, now I understand. Grandpa, we must go back. It’s time.”
“Back where?” he asked.
“To the city!” said Cloe.
“No way! One thing is that you go, see, know, find out where you come from and another very different is that you want to stay there and take the children with you. It’s dangerous out here! The war may come back at any time. The kids are safe in here. That light may turn off forever.”
“But they are bored, Grandpa. They don’t know the birds, the flowers, they don’t smell the scents. You should give them a chance to see them, feel them even if it’s only for a moment.”
“They are safe here.”
“Grandpa, we don’t have anything here for them to play, experience music, dance… the butterflies, the buds, the fruits.”
“And how do you know that? In such a short time you were there? How do you know about the seeds in the Christmas pot? You were there just a couple of hours.”
“Now that I know that place, I realized it’s the same grandma used to talk about in her stories. She told us everything and we thought it was all fantasy. There it was!... Someday you will have to set them free…”
“I said no! I know that place very well and I know…”
“You know that place very well? You have been there for 7 short years, what you know and scares you is what your parents told you and his parents their parents…”
“And you’ve been only one afternoon and you talk about it as if you knew it.”
“Grandma used to tell us and I’ve just been there!” Cloe took a deep breath.
“So? Didn’t she tell you about bad witches, battles, princesses locked up in towers and dragons? What else do you need, Cloe? This is the perfect paradise, everything that you need is here. Nothing happens here.”
“That’s it, Grandpa! Nothing happens here. Neither good nor bad. Nothing.”
“Aren’t you happy here, Cloe? You have everything you really need, you have…”
“We aren’t free, Grandpa, and you can’t deny that.”
“But I’m taking care of you. Nothing will happen to you, you don’t have to worry about anything, isn’t that enough?”
“No, and you know pretty well. They also need to know what it’s like to look after, to create. I would like you to be supportive Grandpa. I will go with them and I would like you to join us.”
“You’re going to suffer, you’ll be wrong, another war will break out.”
“Well, then I prefer them to be wrong many times and all the times it is necessary. I’d rather know that they are choosing something from a lot of options and not because they don’t have any. I’ll take the risk.”
“And how are you going to go there? Walking?”
“I don’t know.”
“You won’t be able to get there.”
“Please, come.”
And her grandpa, realizing that her granddaughter knew all the truth, confessed.
“I can’t go back there. I couldn’t go back to that place and know that she isn’t there because of my fault.”
“Stop thinking about yourself, Grandpa! Do me a favour, please come with us.”
“Thinking about myself? All my life I’ve been thinking about her! About why I left her there all alone! How could I do that! Which part of the plan didn’t work? Why didn’t I pay attention?”
“If you are so perfect! If you create all those machines (useless), how could you forget that huge detail… You never miss a thing! You and you…”
“She died because of MY fault,” pointed at his chest with his finger
Cloe looked at the finger. She looked at her grandfather again, turned around and left, leaving him alone in the middle of the room.

Cloe returned furiously to her grandfather.

“I’m holding the coin in the air and you don’t realize, so many of your speeches in vain. I’m choosing life and you deny it, be sure that on behalf of the truly word of the great grandfather I’ll do it, no matter what.”

Cloe turned her back on him and laugh at herself, stunned by the seriousness of her words. She was not used to talking like that or to contradict him not even with those words that seemed unreal.

She stormed out of the room and went to bed. She was very tired, tomorrow would be another day and she would think something. It was late. The day had been long and different to the ones of all her life.

She woke up and was it still night, she could not sleep. Over and over again she changed her place. She took a deep breath, looked at the ceiling. It was obvious that she could not stop thinking and thinking, until she fell asleep.
Shortly afterwards she woke up again blinded by a bright light that came from the window, she covered her eyes with her arms and got closer to look, but it was so powerful that she could not see what was it.
Cloe went downstairs, got out of the house but the lights were gone. Only her grandfather went out of the darkness with her face black, gloves and tools in his hands.

“Here’s the train. Wake up the children, they shouldn’t miss the dawn,” he said seriously and entered the house slamming the door.
Cloe followed him and went up the stairs. She tried to open the studio’s door but it was locked.
“Go, go once and for all.”
“Thanks Grandpa. How do you drive this train?”
“Press the green button to start and the red one to stop. It’s very simple. And if it stops in the middle of the trip, put more logs and apples to burn.”
“Are you going to stay here alone? And if you want to leave afterwards? How will you do it?”
“I won’t leave. I don’t need to. Have a good life. Take care.”

Cloe looked through the window and saw all the camp asleep. She did not have time to lose. She went to her room, dressed up, grabbed all her stuff and went outside.
She put her bike on the train and went to the tents to wake up the children, one by one.
After being reunited and quite asleep, she told them:
“I’ve got a big surprise for you all. If you are ok, we’ll go on a trip far from the camp. We’ll take the train you’ve always wanted to get in, we’ll cross the desert and we’ll see what’s beyond that. Something like a crossing, what do you think?”
“Yes!!” everyone said, excited.
“Are we really going on the green snake?” one of the smallest kids asked.
“Yes,” Cloe said tenderly, “Ok, we have to take everything, we should break camp.”
“Aren’t we coming back?”
“I don’t know, that’s why it is better to take everything”
“Is it beautiful?”
“Yes.”
“Like the stories Grandma used to tell us?”
“Exactly like the stories Grandma used to tell us. There is where we are going.”
All the children shouted, “Yes!!”
“We’ll stay there forever?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
The children looked at her, a bit angry, not understanding why if it was so beautiful, they could not stay there forever.
“Let’s leave it as a surprise. Now, I want to know something, is there anyone that wants to stay? Everything Grandma used to tell us like witches, fairies, angels, dragons and mazes where we could get lost are out there… Do you still want to come?”
“Are you kidding, Cloe? To live in a true story! It’s like a dream!” said one of the oldest kids.
“Yes, we’re looking forward to it,” another girl said.
“Does everyone want to come? I think it’ll be difficult to come back soon.”
“Yes!” everyone said.

The children took the tents down really fast; it seemed they have wanted to get out of that place for a long time.
Everybody hopped on the train; Cloe glanced towards the tree, blew a kiss to her grandpa, and shouted:
“Everybody’s up? Sure nobody is left behind?”
“Grandpa!” yelled a boy.
“Grandpa wants to stay. Everybody’s up? Sure nobody is down there?”
“Grandpa!” a girl shouted. “Grandpa is outside!”
“I said Grandpa wants to stay, I mean children.”
“No…no child is out there,” said the girl.
“All right! Let’s go now!”

Cloe pressed the green button and the train left.
Grandpa, looking from the window up in the tree, saw the children disappear on the train. He blew a kiss, held his hand on the glass and stayed there, alone in all that dark magnitude.
He turned around, stared at his projects, his maps, his sketches, his miniature bicycles, his mills, his inventions, his solar panels. And an invention covered with a sheet. He uncovered it and something similar to a solar computer was revealed.
“Dreamer…” he said out angry loud.
While the children were chit-chatting on the train, the sky was gradually painted by the breaking dawn.
Cloe watched as they slowly reached the station. The children looked at the abandoned city through the window – there was some disappointment on their faces.

“Kids, get ready! We’re getting there,” she yelled from the cab.
Cloe pressed the red button. The train stopped and the doors opened.
“All right!” Cloe said, enthusiastically.

The children, excited, began to rise from their seats; and the ones awake called those who had fallen asleep.

Everybody started to get off with their bags and rucksacks. They waited for Cloe and began their walk through the city.
“But…this place is abandoned,” a girl said.
“It’s horrible,” added another.
“This is not the place grandma told us about in her stories.”
Cloe walked with them in silence, surrounded by the dawn of a grey and devastated city in ruins.
“I want to go home,” a boy protested.
“You have to be patient, you’ll see. Let’s sing!”

Meanwhile, Rebecca, lying down on her bed, started to hear a melody coming from the outside. She ran to the sitting room, peeped through the door but saw nothing. She opened a window that had been closed for years, many years of dust and nostalgia. She still couldn’t see a thing, just a deserted street, but she could hear the music. Suddenly, she saw Cloe being followed by loads of children – tall, short and medium-height children.
Rebecca, gleefully, opened the door and waited until everybody reached her house.

“We came to play with you,” said Cloe, excited. “I think it was time to come back.” Rebecca’s face glowed.
“Children, this is Aunt Rebecca.”

The children said hello to Rebecca. She lowered her blushing face until she saw the little bag hanging from Cloe.
“You…” Rebecca giggled.
“Yes!”
Rebecca nodded.
“I remember that… and… Is he still there?”
Cloe remained silent.
“Well, you have his eyes… I think he’s done a great job, hasn’t he?”
“I think so,” Cloe said, looking at the children.
“Why do they look so angry?”
“They think this is it.”
“Aha!” said Rebecca. “All right, come in, come in. We’ll figure out how to get everybody in here.”

Meanwhile, grandpa stared at Cloe’s room with nostalgia. There, on the empty places where there was nothing now, he missed her. He missed looking out of the window and seeing children with their tents. Placed on a dresser, there was a red apple and a camera next to it.
He grabbed the camera and ran upstairs to the study. He entered through a secret little door. Iit was a dark room where he got everything ready to develop the photographs.
He did his job, hung the photos and one by one he started to see them.
Black and white pictures of the city, his grey city in ruins, his friends’ houses, his neighbours’, intense pictures of a city surrounded by death and nothingness. He began to cry incessantly, he closed his eyes and let out a piercing scream. He covered his mouth with his hands and ran to the door. He looked through the window and wondered: “Why did she want to leave? There is nothing left out there…”
He returned to the dark room, full of anger, and started to unclip the photos until he reached the one he had not seen before. The smoking chimney and the green leaves showing from the rooftop. Then, he saw the door of the house, his house. Then he saw the entrance to a garden, in full color. He saw flowers, fruits, and a red apple tree. He gazed absently and he remembered something. He ran out of the room and got into Cloe’s, took the red apple and returned to the secret room. Eating the apple, still in shock, he kept looking at the beautiful color photos of a unique nature, full of life, movement and geometry. The last picture he saw was one showing lots of boxes with seeds inside.

Back in Rebecca’s house, the children gaped at the seeds boxes, and in the middle of the turmoil a girl pulled Rebecca’s dress.
“Auntie, Cloe says that the strange characters from Grandma’s stories live here – frogs and handsome blue princes… is it true?” the girl asked. “Cause I see no one here.”
“Look sweetie, I don’t know if that’s true, but I can tell you one thing for sure. This place is half to discover what exists and half to imagine what still doesn’t. So, if we want a bigger garden to fit us all, let’s get down to work!” said Rebecca, enthusiastically.

They opened the window and started to pull down the boxes in a rope to the sidewalk.

The children planted the seeds, ran around the city, went up and down the bridges and rooftops and came out from the windows.

Meanwhile, grandfather prepared a motorbike with a cart attached behind that would take him back home by following the rail road. He stuffed the bike’s engine with apples and firewood, and stored his tools in his suitcase. He washed his hands and put all his inventions in the cart.
He changed into his special occasion clothes, put on his sunglasses and a helmet with earflaps. He turned off the tree’s lights, and the stars also turned off. He put on a kind of walkman on his ears, tuned in “Perhaps” by Cake and left on his motorbike.

The wind blew through his hair. As he was humming he saw the dawn again. He stopped for a while, took off his sunglasses and contemplated the sky.
He hopped on the motorbike and rode it until he reached the city.

He got to his house and, looking at it with a smile in his face, knocked at the door.
Cloe answered the door and saw her grandfather behind some strange sunglasses that, by the way, looked great on him.

“Grandpa! You came!” Cloe blurted out, happily.
“I figured the kids would need bicycles. And some help to tidy up all this mess.”
“That was fast!” Cloe said with excitement while she poked her head round his back to catch a glimpse of the motorbike.
“When I was younger they used to call me the Black Hawk,” he said, proudly.
“Was that good or bad?”
Grandfather chortled.
“Well, they called me that because I was smart, quick and sharp-eyed. That’s why Grandfather named me the Leader of the Troop” Santiago was lost in thought, then he continued, “ but I forgot about my sister… where’s she?” he asked looking both sides.
“She’s back there,” Cloe answered pointing to the garden.

There was Rebecca, fixing up some flowers. Santiago tapped her shoulder. Rebecca turned around and gazed at him in disbelief.
“I thought you were… Cloe didn’t tell me you were still…” Rebecca was staring at him lovingly, but suddenly she remembered, turned her back on him, sat on her bench and continued with a spark of anger, “it was just for a little while until the war was over, but the war ended years ago, why did you take so long?”
Grandfather sat down, looking at her.
“It was over years ago right here,” he said rubbing his chest, “but it has just been over right here,” he continued touching his head. “I’m so sorry… I forgot about you. I was so… it was just too much responsibility, too much…”
“Pressure,” Rebecca finished.
“Yes… I wanted to do the right thing and I ended up doing it all wrong.”
“I forgive you. After all, I was the one who hid here, I was scared. Actually, I didn’t really want to leave.”
“But I made you a promise. I gave you my word. I should have…”
“Maybe you should learn not to make promises you can’t keep. You never know what can happen, life has mysterious reasons nobody understands. You don’t know it all. And it went out pretty well: you took good care of the children, and I took care of this,” she said, showing him the garden.
Santiago remained thoughtful and Rebecca stayed by his side, in silence. They were both gazing at the garden.

“Yes,” said Santiago, all of a sudden, “there’s a lot of work to do now. Oh God, Rebecca! You’re wearing momma’s robe! We need you get some modern clothes. I think we should call these kids’ parents so they can join us and help us rebuild the city. This is something we and the children cannot pull off on our own.”
“You’re right,” Rebecca agreed.
“And when everybody’s here, we’ll throw a big party. No lamps, no darkness, no candles; just sunlight, dances and lots of music. That would be a great strategy for the enemy. They’ll see we’re many here. The more we are, the less sense would make for them the idea to bring this city down. This time we need to be noisy, we need to announce we have arrived!”

And, thus, Rebecca, who first saw the children arrive in the city, now could see the fathers and mothers, and then the grandfathers and grandmothers coming back. She never thought she would see three generations coming all together at the same time.

The following day, there was a big party: some children were dancing on the bridges while others were playing their drums and tambourines on little boats on the water.
They pulled the white piano out to the street and Rebecca played it while Santiago, sitting next to her, played some electronic music, naturally.
That day there was noise, lots of noise. That day the city was full of music.

The city was gradually filled with color. The children rode their bikes and skateboards and Cloe looked at their enjoyment with delight. The fathers started to rebuild the houses from the outside and the mothers from the inside. Grandfather sewed the children’s new clothes with them. Rebecca stayed in the kitchen surrounded by vegetables and bronze saucepans, heating chocolate for the kids and wine for the grown-ups, cooking apple pies, mushroom soups, pumpkin muffins and cheese bread. The tulips were getting ready beneath the earth. The water flowed through the rivers and the mills were blown by the wind.

Rebecca saw more than she had ever imagined in her dreams. Now, it was all up to them. She knew that with the children and her unquestionable nobility, war was now a lady that would stay far away, in her memories. She found it hard to imagine she might come back one day.

“We’ll stay here forever, won’t we Auntie?” the girl asked.
“I don’t know,” Rebecca answered.

* * *

Grandfather was sewing with the girls when Cloe approached him and said:
“Grandpa, I need to ask you something. Come, please.”
The grandfather walked with her to the garden.
“I can’t deny you scare me when you say that.”
Cloe giggled.
“Yesterday, at night, so that I don’t get out of the habit, I climbed Auntie’s apple tree and I stared at the stars as they showed up. And then I saw lots of lights turning on far away from here.”
“Oh dear, Cloe! You never give up, don’t you?”
“Well, I’m eager to know. Grandma used to tell us about wild animals, with spots and stripes, tall and short. Tiny red frogs near seas of turquoise waves! Giant sequoias!”
“God bless your grandmother for telling you all that and letting me here with you, all alone! I wonder how she came up with all that. Like me, she stayed here for just seven years; she didn’t even see what she told you.”
“She told us her mum would tell her all these stories every night. Come on. Grandpa,” Cloe said with a knowing look, “she used to say this place was unique, special. She told us about cascades, rivers and weird insects; kings, queens, incredible stories, sacred places, cities made of crystal. I’ll never forget her eyes when she told us all that. Those places would reflect on her eyes, so vividly we could actually see them in front of her. I’m such an expert at stars that I can say that her eyes sparkled more than any other star I’ve ever known.

“Perhaps, one day, you’ll meet some eyes that will sparkle more than your grandma’s…”
“Really? What would they tell me so that they sparkle even more?”
Grandfather shrugged.
“Grandpa! You really know how to keep me intrigued!”
“I don’t want to sound romantic, ‘cause it’s not my cup of tea and I’m telling you no more because, maybe, grandma’s eyes are the only ones you’ll ever get to know, but I have the slight feeling that one day someone will show up and you’ll see your own hugeness reflected on those eyes. And those eyes, sweetie, will see their own reflection in yours and the two of you will create stories that’ll beat grandma’s. Unsuspected paradises, impossible to imagine right now.”
“Why, Grandpa! How do you expect me not to be persistent? Look at all you’ve told me! Are there new stories besides Grandma’s? Stories that don’t exist yet?”
“Maybe, Cloe, but you should know this for sure: you’ll never stop discovering because everything’s unfinished.”
“Oh, Grandpa! You’re killing me! How can you tell me this? Is this endless?”
“Hmm, I don’t know, I don’t think so. But if it does, it will be very far away…”
“It makes me feel dizzy just to think about it.”
“Do not think, then.”

There was a long silence between them. They were looking out through the window while the raindrops slid down the glass.

“Poppa, I have another question.”
“Oh dear! When you call me Poppa I get more frightened, what is it?”
Cloe chuckled.
“Where are those light lines that run from one side to the other? I can’t see anything.”
“Filaments of the crystal light plasma, crystal-electric bio plasma.”
“Anyway, you know I never remember your scientific terms. You told me that I could see those threads here, but I can’t…”
“Threads? But, Cloe, they are much more than threads.”
“Well, Grandpa, I’m sorry. Where are they?”
“Patience, sweetie, don’t get anxious. There’s enough to discover, you’ll see, all in good time.” Changing the subject, he said, “If you want to visit all the cities out there, I’ll help you out. You’ll need some things to take with you.”
“Grandpa, please, don’t load me up with stuff. I’d like to travel light.”
“I’m working on it, I’ll change your heavy boots for some made of neoprene. And if you want, I’ll make you just two clothes change, detachable outfits, so that you can remove depending on the circumstances. They’ll be practical garments, for the mountain or the sea, to ride or to go out to dance. You know I love details, I’ll sew pockets for you to keep scissors or markers, and I’ll put some lace edgings to make them girly and some buttons in different sizes and colors.”
“Whatever you say, Grandpa. You know it’s not my cup of tea,” Cloe said, amused. “Keep in mind that I’m not going to travel alone,” she said firmly.
“Oh no, Cloe. There’s no way I’m going with you. I’m fine here.”
Cloe laughed.
“No, Grandpa! Not with you! I’m going with the children.”
“What? Are you nuts? Are you traveling the world with all of them? That’s not smart at all. Please, Cloe, that won’t be practical.”
“Not with all of them. Some will go to one place, then I come back and fetch the others that’ll go to a different place. What do you think?”
“Well, that sounds better.”
“There will be so much to discover, so much to reveal… I’ll need help!”

Grandfather not only prepared the set of magnifying glasses, walky-talkies and suitable clothes for Cloe and the kids, but also built the so-called Strategic Services Office on top of the red apple tree: an atelier workshop equipped with the big solar computer, among other things, through which he would communicate with his granddaughter in case she needed help and for them to use as a base. Before they left, he taught them to send letters and postcards and everything they needed to know to survive.
“You should be really careful, because you’re brave but you’re also naïve, and in this place anything can happen. I have built something that you’ll love; you can use it to show us all the places you’ve visited when you come back.”
“A little black box that collects moments!” Cloe said, excited.
“A camera, Cloe. This is much more modern that the other one,” corrected the grandfather, “if you can’t find time to write you can tell us special moments with the help of some light. My grandpa told me it was the gun’s sister.”
“What…? Why are all brothers or sisters here?!
Grandfather laughed.
“Why are they sisters? When you shoot you kill the moment to keep it inside?” Cloe asked confused.
“No, sweetie, you keep it, but then you share it. You can show you stopped because you were interested in what happened there; whereas with the gun, you make that image disappear forever when you shoot, because you’re not interested.
But that sister is old-fashioned; the new one is here to stay!”
Cloe remained thoughtful and the grandfather continued:
“Always remember: your vision, sweetie, is your real weapon and ally. It will open up the way. It will transform your surroundings and the surroundings will transform you, so be careful. Use it smartly.”

Auntie did not want to be less and she gave her dried fruits to build energy, arnica for the body and lavender to stay calm, and looking at Santiago she said:
“Yes, but with just that she does nothing, she shouldn’t think herself as a leader; she may have her grandfather’s vision, but don’t forget her grandmother’s loveliness. If not, she’ll end up worried and she’ll leave some kid behind somewhere in the world.
With the vision and loveliness, nature won’t be able to hold itself back and it will come out of its enchantment. It will open up to you, venerating you, and it will tell you all its secrets.”
Rebecca lovingly stroked her great-niece’s face and said, “Enjoy the trip, Cloe.”

Santiago kept quiet and a little ashamed; he knew he still had lots of things to learn from his sister. And he knew that turning a little romantic would not harm him.

To show her gratitude, Cloe promised to bring Rebecca exotic fruits and strange spices, and fabrics and buttons from different places for her grandfather’s collection.
“You don’t need to promise,” said the grandfather winking at his sister.

And that was how Cloe travelled the world accompanied by a group of little explorers, who called themselves the Earth Guardians. They travelled through the present, the past and the future, discovering and revealing mysteries, living the stories grandma had told them and writing the ones that still didn’t exist.


“Once upon a time, there was a magical land in a hidden place anything was possible, every possibility waited to be taken. A kingdom, where there were kings and queens, princes and princesses, strange characters, stores and alchemists. Flutists, musicians and different artists. Colors and love, hot and cold, enchanted woods, huge trees and beautiful flowers...
Anything, absolutely anything you can ever imagine.”




***

Cloe travels to:

Amsterdam
Venice
Paris
London
Avalon-Glastonbury
Scotland
Dublin
Barcelona
Japan
Tanzania
India
Tibet
Nepal
Turkey
Iraq
Egypt
Indonesia
Africa
Australia
Canada
New York
California
Mexico
Cuba
Jamaica
Costa Rica
Peru
Bolivia
Brazil
Chile
Argentina