Magic Realism
1 min
Seeking Ore
Alina Rios
Alina Rios
Originally published in The Grievous Angel. Alina Rios is a playwright, and the founder of Bracken magazine. Her fiction has appeared in On the Seawall. Her plays have been produced on both sides of the Atlantic. More at alinarios.com.
Ore, the writer's daughter, stands at his graveside. In her hands his last book, the one she wasn't supposed to find. She is 14 and determined, and she finished it a month ago. It's about a young girl who discovers a door to the underworld. Ore followed the clues from the book to an abandoned train station, overgrown with moss and vines. No door.
"Show me the real way," she says to the gravestone, her eyes narrow behind thick-rimmed frames too large for her face. "Or I'll call your bluff. You always hated that."
A crow caws in the distance.
A large white dog approaches and stands at her side. Ore reaches for his shaggy nape and gives it a scratch, then digs in her dress pocket and pulls out a meat stick. The dog sniffs it and exhales sulfur and brine.
"Do you ever eat?" She puts the stick away and crouches at the gravestone, running her fingers along the engraving. He lived in two worlds. The dog settles down beside her and she leans into his side.
"He's waiting for me," she says and begins to cry. She buries her face in the dog's fur.
When the girl is calm again, the dog rises.
She looks up. "Leaving?"
It's twilight and the dog's eyes – two fires reflected in hers. She gets up too and they begin to walk, her hand on his back. They follow a path between the graves, the moon behind them, girl's silhouette no more than a shadow. Soon they are gone.
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