9

It was early on a Sunday morning when Pace heard a car drive onto the property and stop. He looked out the front window of his cottage and saw a white Chevrolet Malibu parked between the cottage and Dalceda Delahoussaye’s house. A woman climbed out of the driver’s side, opposite the cottage, and stood for a moment with her back to him, shaking her long, blonde hair. He felt a chill in his back and shoulders and shivered even before the woman turned and faced his way. It was Rapunzelina Cruz, appearing in Pace’s life for the third time.

She saw Pace behind the window, smiled and raised her right hand and gave a little wave. Pace did not acknowledge her overture. He could not move. Punzy may not have been the last person Pace expected to see but she was close. He did not want to be there with Punzy waiting for him to invite her inside. She looked almost too beautiful standing next to the white Malibu, a light breeze wrinkling her little blue dress, the sunlight purifying her, as if this image could be enough to cleanse from his brain those terrible, indelible pictures housed there. When Pace made no sign of welcome, Punzy’s smile faded and she waited until it became clear to her that he was not going to allow her to interrupt his existence this time around. After a couple of minutes, Punzy got back into the car, started it up and backed down the driveway.

Once the Malibu was out of sight and sound, Pace thought about the importance of confronting one’s demons, the man in the orange hat and Rapunzelina being only two transitory tests of his resolve and understanding. Pace then considered the possibility that the manifestations of both the hunter and Punzy might have been apparitions. If he had learned anything, he reasoned, what was the difference, really? He had let them go, and that was what mattered.