Arthur, answering Emily's question, said, "Hey Emily, this is Alex—our childhood friend! Have you forgotten how he used to pull your pigtails when we were kids? He's the one who changed your nickname ."
Emily, happily, said, "Ачха, Алекс, это был ты?"
Alex glanced at Arthur because he didn't understand Emily's Russian.
Arthur gently explained to Emily, "Emily, you still haven't lost your childhood habit! Sometimes you talk in Russian, sometimes in Franch—remember, Alex doesn't even know Franch, let alone Russian. Talk to him in English, okay?"
Emily, realizing her mistake, said, "Oh sorry, I forgot! When did you get here, Alex?"
"Just yesterday, Emily," Alex replied.
Turtle, eyeing the tray of tea in Emily's hand, said, "So Emily, you're only going to serve tea to your childhood heartbroken admirer, Kevy, or will you give us some too—"
Before he could finish, Kevy pointed his finger at Turtle and said angrily, "What did you say, Turtle? My name's not kevy—I'm Kevin George, understand? You slowpoke."
"Oh, that's what others call you, for us you'll always be kevy, our poet! Don't interrupt, I'm talking to Emily right now. So Emily, I was just asking—are you serving only your sappy old flame Kevy, or will you bring us some tea too?"
Emily snapped, "Turtle, just try saying that again."
"Nothing, nothing! I just said—bring us three teas and put them on Kevy's tab."
"Yeah, right. Like you've ever paid for anything yourself, cheapskate."
Before Emily could say more, her mother's voice came from inside the shop, "Come here, Emily!"
"Coming, Mom!" Emily called and went inside.
As she walked away, Alex's eyes lingered on Emily. Seeing her, he grew sad. Arthur noticed and asked, "What's wrong, man? Why so sad seeing Emily?"
"Nothing, dude, just thinking—Emily was always the smartest of us, so why's she running this tea shop? What happened that she has to do this now?"
Turtle replied quietly, "It's all because of Elysira, Alex."
Alex was startled, "Because of Elysira—what do you mean?"
Turtle continued, "Yeah, Alex. You don't know, but when your mom ran aw—"
He was interrupted by Arthur sharply thumping him on the back, a silent cue to stop.
Turtle quickly changed tack, "I mean, when your mom left and you were at boarding school, that same time Elysira made Emily's father her victim. You know her father ran everything at their house—after he died, Emily and her mother were left alone. Emily started helping her mom and opened this shop. She goes to college and runs the eatery with her mom."
Alex said gloomily, "I see."
Arthur tried to lighten the mood, "Come on, don't be down. Everyone has to deal with loss. It's not like any life is free of sorrow—sooner or later we all lose someone, but that doesn't mean we stop living."
Alex nodded, "Yeah, you're right. You have to live, if not for yourself, then for your karma. Anyway, Kevy—how are you, what's new these days?"
Before Kevy could answer, Turtle shot in, "What's he up to? Same as when we were kids—chasing after Emily. Still writes love letters, but not for Emily, for the school kids—gets paid for it, that's how he makes a living."
Kevy playfully smacked Turtle on the forehead, "Quit talking nonsense, Turtle! I'm going to be a big poet soon, just wait for my poetry book to get published—then you'll see my name everywhere. Just unlucky so far—haven't found a publisher yet."
"Of course not. Your poetry is poison, that's why!"
Kevy knew arguing with Turtle was pointless, so he turned to Alex, "Ignore him, man—you know he's always been a joker. Anyway, how'd you come back after thirteen years?"
Alex told kevy all about his job, losing it, and the startup.
After listening, kevy said in surprise, "Alex, are you out of your mind? Were you on drugs in the city or what?"
"No! Why? Don't like my plan?"
"Dude, your plan sounds like a death wish. That manor is built over a graveyard and you want to farm on it? Even if you manage to grow something, who'll buy vegetables from haunted soil? No one will eat it, thinking they'll get haunted themselves!"
Alex, annoyed, said, "Man, I'm tired of explaining myself to everyone, I'm not going to keep doing it. If you three want to help, fine—otherwise, I'll do it on my own. I don't need anyone's help. No one, not even Elysira, can stop me now, got it?"
Just then Ahmed, who worked at Emily's shop, brought over a tray of tea. Ahmed was a skinny sixteen or seventeen-year-old. He left the tea and walked away.
Alex, Arthur, Turtle, and Kevy sipped their tea in silence. It was clear from Alex's face that he was angry and not willing to listen to criticism.
Kevy broke the silence, "Okay, I'm in—but on one condition."
Alex was surprised, "Another condition? First Turtle, now you—what is it?"
"Dude, your dad was a writer, right?"
"Yeah, so?"
"So, if you're in touch with any publishers, put in a word for me too—get my book published. Your dad was famous."
Alex replied, "Kevy, my dad was a writer, not me. You know he's no more, and you're still asking this?"
Kevy fell quiet and looked sad.
Alex softened, "Look, I do have some publisher contacts—I'll try to put in a good word for you."
Kevy perked up, hugging Alex, "Thank you, brother. Thank you!"
Later, Alex, Arthur, Turtle, and Kevy were inside Graveyard Manor, cleaning. Alex had a cloth, Arthur and Kevy had brooms, and Turtle was mopping. As the dust cleared, the manor began to look splendid. While they scrubbed the hall, Kevy's phone rang.
The ringtone was a popular Russian love song, which startled Turtle.
Turtle shouted, "Kevy, couldn't you pick another ringtone? Just because you like Russian girls doesn't mean your phone has to sing in Russian!"
Kevy fished his phone from his pocket, "Wasn't much else in Russian to choose from."
Kevy ignored him, answered, "Yeah, Emily, what's up?"
"Where are you, Kevy?"
"I'm at the manor, Emily."
"What're you doing there?"
"I texted you—Alex's staying here, so we're cleaning the place."
"I didn't see your text. Listen, we're out of groceries at the shop, so you'll have to go to Maple Junction to get supplies."
"Alright, Emily, I'll be there in a couple of minutes."
Kevy ended the call. Turtle grumbled, "See, only calls when there's work—otherwise, no time for you at all. Girls are smart, only remember us when they need something!"
Kevy retorted, "And as if we guys aren't just as smart? All we want from girls is one thing—bodies, right?"
Turtle realized Kevy was miffed, so apologized, "Sorry, man. It was just a joke, didn't realize you'd take it badly."
"Listen, Turtle, make fun of me or my poems if you want, but don't joke about Emily, okay? You know how much I love her."
"Sorry, man."
"Forget all that, do me a favor—"
"What kind?"
Kevy handed Turtle his broom, "Finish my share of the cleaning too, alright? When I return, this place better be spotless!"
Turtle pouted, "Yeah, yeah. Got it."
Turning to Alex, Kevy said, "Alex, I'm heading out. Sorry, but when Emily calls, I can't refuse her. Don't worry, I'll be back as soon as I'm done."
Alex put a hand on Kevy's shoulder, "I get it, man. Emily's a good girl—never let her go. I know she hasn't said yes yet, but she will soon. I can see in her eyes that she loves you."
Kevy left.
After Kevy departed, Turtle said, "Alex, I've finished mopping down here. I'll go sweep the rooms upstairs. You and Arthur keep cleaning the hall."
"Okay, but be careful and don't fall!"
"I'm not such a klutz that I'll fall, thanks!"
With that, Turtle headed upstairs.
Arthur asked, "Alex, can I ask you something?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
"When you were telling Kevy about love, you had a spark in your eyes—the kind you only see when someone's been in love themselves."
Alex interrupted, "Out with it, stop beating around the bush."
"I just mean, did you ever find yourself a girlfriend back in Boston?"
Hearing this, Alex blushed.
Arthur declared, "Looking at that smile, I know you did! So—what's her name?"
Alex, embarrassed, said, "Scarlett."
"Wow, what a beautiful name! Bet she's even prettier in person. You must have a photo on your phone, come on—show me what our sister-in-law looks like!"
Alex took out his wallet and showed Arthur a passport-sized pic of Scarlett: long face, black flowing hair, golden eyes, and rose-pink lips. She was beautiful.
Arthur, admiring the photo, said, "She's stunning, man—but you've got to admit, in the twenty-first century, you're still carrying around a Nineties romance!"
"It's not like that. I deleted all her pictures from my phone."
"What, you deleted all her photos? Why?"
"Because when people leave our lives, we should remove them from our phones too. Your phone is your other life—you're with it all the time."
"I don't get it. Did you break up with her?"
Alex replied, "Arthur, stop calling her 'sister-in-law.' And it's not a break-up—we just separated."
"Separated? Why would you do that? I was happy for you, then you snatched it away. What happened between you and Scarlett, man? If it's just a fight, every couple has fights!"
Alex didn't answer, instead focusing on cleaning.
"Come on, Alex. Don't turn away. Tell me how you met Scarlett, and why you broke up. I want to know."
"Why do you want to know? Forget the bad memories; it's better for everyone."
"Don't say that, Alex—sharing pain makes it less. I know I can't fix it, but I can at least be there."
Because Arthur was insistent, Alex finally agreed to tell him about Scarlett.
"See, Scarlett and I—"
He had only begun when there was a loud scream from upstairs, "Aaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Arthur exclaimed, "That's Turtle's scream!"
"Yeah, man, it is. God knows what's happened—come on!"