Bodo

In a land far away and a world long ago lived a witch named Reine. Reine was a gentle soul, skilled in her craft and took visitors from near to far. Reine’s hut was filled with gifts from past visitors, a little black book from Milan, sweet smelling vanilla bean from Iceland and a lovely knitted rug from the Dublin dwarf clan, for those cold nights in front of the fire. Each gift had its own tale of how it came to be and if the mood were right, Reine would fix you some tea and recount a tale or ten. Locals were known flock to Reine’s hut to hear her stories, for she was well travelled and able to spin a good yarn. Her house was always dimly lit and had the perfect scent, with just the right amount of smoke, vanilla and coffee to leave you wanting more.

Being a twelfth generational witch, witchcraft came as easily to Reine as breathing did to mortals. Despite being a witch, Reine would dress as you’d expect any mortal to dress in the woods, in jeans, a sweater and boots suitable for chopping wood on a frosty winters day. Reine’s hut was surrounded by the sounds of the forest, with trees whaling in the wind, animals foraging for their food, birds singing and of course, the crackle of the living room fire. Reine was happiest when she was staring out at the mountain fjords, inhaling the crisp forest air and scribbling away in her little black book.

On the first Sunday of every month, the local dwarf clan would deliver Reine supplies for her various potions and settle in for some tea and storytelling before being on their way. One Sunday, whilst awaiting their arrival, Reine sat in her rocking chair smiling as she watched the snowflakes dance their way to the ground and the nearby squirrels fight for their supper. Reine sensed the dwarves were near and popped the kettle on, stoked the fire and stepped out onto the porch to light the lanterns. Suddenly, a dark cloud shrouded her vision and she knew something strange was afoot. She must leave at once.

Reine suspected the dwarves had met with foul play so she quickly packed her strongest protective spells and potions, grabbed a lantern and was on her way. Unsure where she was going or how long she would be gone, Reine waded through the calf deep snow hoping to reach the path before nightfall. As she approached the path she was hit with a scent she didn’t recognise, neither pleasant nor putrid. Just, different. She became so distracted by this scent she failed to see the stranger sprawled out in the middle of the path right in front of her. By the time she saw him it was too late, she had stumbled not at all gracefully and was now laying face down in the snow. Talk about making an entrance! By the time Reine was back on her feet, the stranger had also composed himself and they were now standing face to face with each other.

The stranger was much taller than Reine, had dark hair just above his shoulders, piercing blue eyes and seemed to be dressed in clothes not of Reine’s world. He was handsome, more handsome than anyone Reine had ever encountered before. Reine now realised the stranger was the scent she didn’t recognise. She knew immediately this man was not to be feared and meant her no harm. Witchcraft was good like that – it protected her and enabled her to judge a person’s character immediately and accurately. What it couldn’t or wouldn’t show Reine was who this man was or why he was here and where on earth were those dwarves? Reine no longer sensed they were in danger, merely delayed. Perhaps they got hungry? Perhaps this man orchestrated the delay? Reine realised in this moment that she had been staring at the stranger for some time now, without speaking a word. She cleared her throat: “I don’t recognise you, your scent is foreign. From where do you hail and what is your purpose in my part of this here forest”? The stranger softened, his eyes began to sparkle, his mouth quivered… and then, he could no longer contain himself and began laughing, thunderous guffaws echoed throughout the forest. His whole body shook. Reine stood dumfounded. What was happening here? Was this man simple? Did he not speak English? What was so funny? Reine felt a little irritated.

The man must have sensed Reine’s irritation for he quickly contained himself, pulled it together and spoke: “Forgive me, it’s just, never have I heard anyone speak so… so… well, like that. Whatever that was. My name is Bodo. I am from a coastal village in Norway and quite honestly have no idea how I got here, wherever here is. See, I was on my usual morning walk in the forest when a strange dwarf like man thrust a duffle bag into my hands and told me I must deliver it to Reine the witch. He went on to say something about how wonderful this witch is and how she has made him rich beyond his wildest dreams. He looked genuinely elated. That’s the last thing I remember. The next thing I’m picking myself up off the ground standing face to face with you”.

Reine did a quick truth spell and detected this Bodo man was speaking the truth. She had heard of this kind of time travel before but had never seen it in person. She remembered her great great grandmother explaining only the souls born into the wrong era would ever have the ability to travel through time and only to the time where they were always meant to be. Perhaps Bodo was meant for this time and not his own? Reine knew she couldn’t explain all of this to Bodo right now in the middle of the path, he was clearly from a time not of the witchcraft and Reine feared it would be too much for him. She had only one suggestion: “Bodo, I suspect I can explain to you how you came to be here but might I suggest you accompany me back to my hut for some tea, a warm fire and a more comfortable place for such an explanation”. Bodo seemed quite relaxed despite his circumstances and agreed at once.

Both Reine and Bodo walked back to the hut in silence, clearly deep in thought. As the snow crackled beneath her feet, Reine wondered what was in the dufflebag and who had gifted it to her. She knew it was a gift of gratitude and now suspected a little black book was somehow involved. Bodo seemed less foreign with every step they took and Reine could sense she wasn’t alone in this feeling. For the last 500m of the journey Reine took Bodo through the forest, she liked walking through the forest rather than on the path as she adored listening to the pine needles blowing in the wind. Something about this sound and the smell of the pine put Reine at ease. Always.

As they left the forest and approached the clearing, Reine’s hut was in full view. Bodo stopped abruptly, his mouth wide open. He looked at Reine, looked back at the hut and his surroundings, took a deep breath, smiled and spoke: “I’m home. I can’t explain it, but I am. Suddenly all of this feels familiar and I just know this is where I belong. You don’t need to explain anything anymore. You are where I belong”. Reine wasn’t shocked. She understood what Bodo was saying and she felt it too. Bodo was born into the wrong era, he was always meant to find Reine and their hut. She now knew this home was theirs and not just hers.

When Bodo and Reine finally opened the dufflebag, they found a sum of $20,000 and a little black book. Nothing else. The book was a little worse for wear but still very much intact. It was black, leather bound, with yellow stained pages and was not much bigger than Reine’s hand. They proceeded to open the book and inside was a message addressed to Reine:

“Dearest Reine,

I came to see you many years ago in need of help. My soul felt lost, like it was living somewhere it wasn’t intended for. I was sad all the time and nothing would cure the deep feelings of despair. You gave me a potion designed to align my body and my soul with it’s rightful home. It did, Reine, it really did. See, my soul was never meant to exist in your time for longer than the 20 years it did.

I now live a full and happy life in a time very different to yours, we exchange goods for money here, witchcraft is no longer recognised and the entire world is connected through electricity and a thing called the Internet. Had I not have not met you, I wouldn’t be here and I certainly wouldn’t have met the love of my life I have been lucky enough to meet.

Please add this dufflebag, money and my note to your collection of stories and gifts. Maybe one day this story will be one you tell to your visitors”! You have made me rich beyond words, both materially and to my core. For that, I will forever be grateful.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Frederik (formerly of the Icelandic dwarf clan)".

Reine closed the book and looked over at Bodo with a smile. She suddenly felt more whole than she had ever felt before and knew Bodo felt the same. There was no doubt they would live out the remainder of their days together, content and in love. This was one Sunday Reine and Bodo would never forget. They embraced and sat quietly together staring blissfully into the lit fire, quickly mesmerised by the flames. At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Finally, the dwarves had arrived.

Bodo and Reine got their happy ending in every way and continued to enrich the lives of others through witchcraft and story telling. They lived a long and peaceful existence in the forest, eventually passing away quietly and without any pain. Although never having children of their own, they would often provide entertainment to the town’s children and were always associated with love and happy vibes. Some say their spirits can still be felt in certain parts of Norwegian forests today.

Finite.