A View Form Above

Sometimes, disappearance can feel like death. For the old woman swimming in the water below, whom he loved dearly, the heartbreak of her disappearance might be too great. The old man that disappeared, save for his weathered, old hat, which gently floated onto the deck of the boat beneath, was her Husband, Frick.

When May put on the hat, it was a lark; she didn’t expect to hear her husband’s voice saying all this in her head. She was a little worried, but after many years of fantastic adventures, living with him, she knew what she had to do: she had to get her husband out of his hat. As for her husband, Frick, He was a tall and dashing wizard with a long silver beard, and a talent for getting himself into rough spots. The last thing she remembered was that he was sitting on their little boat, reading a tale he had received from his friend Crest the Baker. Sure, he was a baker; he loved weaving intricate tales too. For Frick, the hobby was of particular interest.

May listened to the hat, taking it all in. “So Crest’s stories have something to do with this?” She asked aloud, not expecting an answer, but it was all she had to work with, so she paddled the boat back to the shore and took to finding an answer. She got near the dock, and the water delivered her gently to the shore. “What have we gotten ourselves into?” she said, jerking the knot tight to secure the boat. She loved Frick dearly, and she made it clear for the last 42 bliss-filled years, He knew the same. It was simple their life in the cottage and Frick loved it. But May understood that when adventure calls you, attack it to get an answer. May smiled at the loving narration in her head as she gathered their things.

“I was never good at attacking Frick,” she muttered fruitlessly. She rolled her eyes, but she knew true strength is doing something you are not good at. The village was in sight after walking in silence for a few minutes. It was quaint, with only six or seven houses, an inn at the end of the road, and a bakery and a brewery that were on either side of the tavern. May chose not to come into the village, except only every six months, or so, no matter how much Frick asked. She would spend all her time talking to her Forest and River. “They are my closest friends, and I trust them.” She said this, idly staring off into the leaves glittering in the sunlight as she walked. Frick knew how important it was for her to maintain her bond with nature, and they all did. The forest thanked her by growing faster. The river did the same by purging anything harmful to the people. The villagers gave them gifts to show their gratitude, and he knew he would relay them back to her upon delivery. “I Never did thank Crest for the sweet bread,” she said, opening the door to the bakery. Behind the counter, stood a man built like a bull with an eye patch over his right eye.

Crest was one of Frick’s closest friends. His stories brought him hours of fun, and his bread was always soft and fresh. “It would be kind of hard to eat, if you’re a hat,” she whispered, leaning against a nearby wall, waiting for Crest to finish with Kor the village woodsman, to finish their deal. Kor was a rugged, hairy man, who always seemed to be without a shirt. She was grateful to him for taking the time to replant every tree he chopped down. After they finished their conversation, May approached Crest, saying, “Thank you for the sweetbread; it was a rare treat.”

He eyed her curiously, and with a bright smile, he said, “We don’t usually get the opportunity to have your eminence come into our humble shop alone.”

“Frick is gone,” she said flatly.

“What do you mean?” she asked, taking off the hat and putting it on the counter between them. He picked it up and said, “It’s Frick’s hat.” His flour-covered face looked at her, befuddled

“Put it on,” she insisted.

As soon as Crest put Frick’s hat on, the realization of what happened dawned on him. The narration was in Frick’s voice. He took off the hat, handing it back to May, who promptly put it back on. The voice was soothing to her, reminding her that her beloved husband was still with her. “I’ll get Innestra to call a town meeting. We will help you get him back; after all, we need him too.”

“The barrier is down, Crest; we need to hurry.” May warned

Crest rushed out of his shop, saying, “Take anything you need, May; we will get him back.”

A bell rang in the distance shortly after Crest left. She took a moment to steel herself before she left for the town hall, knowing that they could be attacked at any minute.