Christos Anesti! Alitos Anesti!

Happy Easter, everybody! I have brought you chocolate [um... not really, figuratively!... well okay, literally]

FoRM for ya'll!!!

Tonia wanted to be alone. Adam was strolling in the gardens of the lodge. I sat in the bookstore with my feet propped up, an interesting book on mythological creatures in hand, and a hot cup of coffee. The morning sun shone through the windows. My mind started wandering off. The lodge was a bit like a mall – there were a lot of miscellaneous shops that held mystery and wonder. There was one shop that had always sparked my interest, but I had never gotten the courage to go inside: The Sphinx Café.

And suddenly, I was drawn to it – like literally sent grabbing my crutches and finding the place among the many strange shops of the lodge.

And there it was. The Sphinx Café. It was a small coffee shop that smelled like incense, Arabian coffee, and was decorated with lush fabrics. I don't know how to describe it; there were curtains around each table, falling like a tent around the people within. The waitresses wore bindis and saris – and were mostly Indian or Arabian women. There was a snake charmer at the bar and he actually held shows. I had watched a few from afar. Now, as I walked in, I was assaulted by the smells and sights. The ceilings were painted with turquoise and red and earthy colors.

"Hello," a man said in an Indian accent. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh," I replied, warming to his welcoming smile. "I've always admired this place, but never came in – it's beautiful."

"Yes, I have seen you watching this place, it is good you have come," he laughed. "No, it is wonderful to have someone who enjoys our culture." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Please, sit. We will educate you." There was something about this guy that was so warm and friendly – the way he talked and smiled and laughed – they made me feel like this was a place I belonged. The man introduced himself as Ari, the owner of the shop. He ran the place with his wife, Yasmin, and his daughters, Asa, Reth, Nefrititi, and Sae. They were all beautiful. They had little red bindis and long, thick, shiny black hair that they kept in a braid that fell down their backs.

They brought me strong Arabian coffee. It was the strongest coffee I had ever tasted.

"You get used to it," a man said when he saw me choking. I looked up – it was Mr. Gorbachov.

"Um, sir," I stuttered.

"No, no," he waved his hand, "none of that. Call me Dmitri. You are Tess, right? The one who Barry was so rude to?"

"Yes, Dmitri," I replied.

"I am sorry, he is an object of charity amongst my family and me," he smiled. "He never learned, though we have tried to teach him so. Did he hurt you badly?"

"No, well, a little. But I'll be fine," I smiled back.

"I'm glad," he returned. "I have been looking for you. You see, when my people were taking care of your ankle, your friend, Adyin, stood in for you at our meeting. I was, to say the least, unsatisfied. I employed you and it was you I wished to talk to. You see, I would like you to meet my bird."

"Oh, sure," I said, shocked. This dude sounded kind of creeper-ish, but not anything like Barry. Kind of a chivalrous creeper – if that's possible. I mean why would he want to talk to me? "Where is he?"

"She," Dmitri corrected. "Chloe, my Firebird." I giggles behind my hand. "What is so funny, Tess?"

"Chloe isn't a very Russian name, Dmitri," I said.

"Ah, there is a story to that," he smiled. "Chloe used to be Deidra. My grandfather changed her name. None of us know why though. She is an extraordinary bird. She wanted to meet you."

I chocked on the coffee for the second time that day. "What? She wanted to meet me?"

"Oh yes, Chloe is very particular," he stood and waved his hand again. "Would you come with me?"

We went to a part of the lodge I'd never been in before. Stained glass windows cast a bright, colorful shadow on the carpeted stairs. It was a magnificent spiral staircase – the kind that make you dizzy. I realized that this was the tower. It was the tower that you saw in every picture and postcard of the lodge. Some said that a crazy old lady haunted it; or maybe someone like Mr. Rochester's wacko wife from Jane Eyre.

"This has been Chloe's hide out for the past week," Dmitri whispered. "I trust the Legend-Seekers to care for her. The only problem being when she leaves for food."

"Oh," was all I said. He opened a shabby turquoise door – the paint was chipping off and it didn't look sanitary – and inside was just a tiny dark room. It was an extremely tiny dark room. Who knew? He led me to yet another shabby door and another. Finally, we went down through a trap door and into a room that was plain and elegant. There in the corner, perched on a pole that hung on the wall, was the Russian Firebird, Chloe.

kisses to my peeps!

Asiat