Mihai had never been to Cugir, this small industrial town in the south of Transylvania, at the foot of the ?ureanu mountains. He had only heard that weapons were made here and that there are, or were, many factories before 1990. He walked slowly around the town, paying attention to the industrial buildings, now in ruins, and the houses with large gates that bore little resemblance to the Saxon style, common in Transylvania, especially in the Sibiu area. He was getting closer and closer to the mountains that dominated the landscape to the south and followed the established route on one of the streets that followed the water. Mihai had finally parked the car in an area of huts on the narrowing valley called Raul Mic, near the Randunica dam, an old hydro-technical installation more than 100 years old, now abandoned, but located in a picturesque area and loved by the inhabitants of Cugir who often came here to walk or cycle. It was quite chilly in the morning but the forecast was good and it was looking like a beautiful spring day. He checked his rucksack once more in which he had put all his valuables in the car and after making a big cross, saying in his mind “Lord help me and guide me”, he set off on his journey. Although he had studied the map of the area very carefully in the previous days, making a detailed plan, he took out his cell phone once again to check his position on Google Maps. The signal on his phone was still pretty good and he realized that at least part of the way, he could rely on it in case of need. From the paved road he descended a little down to the riverbed and crossed the Little River on an old concrete bridge probably built at the same time as the dam. There didn't seem to be a clear main road, but he tried to choose the one that would lead up to the massif in front of him. The other two roads, both with the same forest road appearance, followed the contour somewhat. Not 300 meters further on, he found a red-dotted tourist marker that was confirmation that he was on the right path. The Our Mountains app on his phone also confirmed that he was on the right trail leading to the mountain village of Bucuru. At the beginning, the climb was quite tiring for the first 15-20 minutes, but then she got used to it and found a pace that was conducive to a balanced effort. After another almost an hour of climbing through the forest and through the glades at the top of the massif, he reached the first target of his journey with the help of his GPS: a seemingly old and shabby-looking wooden cottage that looked somewhat deserted, with simple, aged outbuildings for animals. He entered the courtyard alert for possible guard dogs and knocked softly on the door of the house in the hope that someone was still there and he didn't make the trip in vain. After a few seconds a very pretty blonde girl in her early twenties with extremely beautiful blue eyes appeared in the doorway smiling mysteriously at him. Dressed like a country housewife, with a long skirt and a gray shirt with puffed sleeves, long hair tied on top of her head and a piercing look, she was part of a very pretty sight for a city dweller who had not been in a mountain hamlet for a long time.
- Christ is risen! I am...
- He is risen indeed! I know who you are. Welcome, Mihai. We've been expecting you. Come inside, she said and opened the door wide, making room for him to enter.
- Thank you, he smiled and crossed the threshold.
- I'm M?lina, she said after closing the door behind him. And she held out her hand smiling, squeezing his surprisingly tightly.
- Uh, Mihai. But I see you know that already, he replied a little nervously
The room he had entered looked very nice in contrast to the outside, and was quite well appointed. Everything was obviously in an authentic rustic style but tastefully arranged and in perfect cleanliness especially on the beautifully polished hardwood floor. Mihai thought that the difference between the outside appearance and how nice it was inside was yet another confirmation that, more often than not, appearances can be deceiving.
- Sit down, please. And he pointed to one of the wooden chairs by the window with a small table between them. I have a very good blackberry syrup that goes well with cold spring water. I suppose you got a bit tired coming up here so you're not going to refuse my offer, are you? she asked in a way he couldn't help but accept. I know it's not exactly an easy walk for those of us on foot.
- Uh-huh. I didn't pace myself very well, and I'll admit, I got a little tired. And he took the mug of colored patterned earth his beautiful hostess gave him.
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She poured herself a cup as well and sat down on the other chair next to the solid wooden table, beautifully painted in bright colors with traditional motifs.
- As far as I know, you've come to talk to my grandfather, because you must go up to the hermitage, right? she asked him slowly, looking him in the eyes for a few seconds, then shifting her gaze to the mug in which she was chewing gently with a wooden spoon.
- Yes, I was told to have my first stop at Mr. Gheorghe Stroian in Bucuru, and he will advise me how to get to the hermitage in the mountain, because it's not on the map and I won't be able to use the GPS for that, Mihai replied, looking at his interlocutor.
- 'Santa is sleeping in the other room. Until he wakes up and you can talk to him, I'll ask you a few questions, if that's okay, she said smiling as she took another sip of water with syrup.
- ‘Sure,’ replied Michael, overwhelmed by her charming smile.
- Please tell me, what are your expectations? What do you expect to find up at the hermitage? she took him very directly and now very seriously.
- Well, first of all I have to meet that special man to whom I'm to give certain information. Actually a letter to be exact, Mihai answered slowly and involuntarily put his hand involuntarily to his breast pocket where he kept the important document he had received on leaving Sibiu. But not only that, because I expect to discover beautiful places, but also other special people, as I understand your grandfather is.
- Yes, he is. He brought me up and educated me on his own, because my grandmother died when I was six.
- And your parents? Don't they still live around here?
- My parents moved to Italy when I was really little. They split up and never came back. I haven't heard from them in over ten years.
- Oh, I'm sorry. It must have been hard on you, especially when you were growing up. Do you have any brothers or sisters?
- You seem to be asking me questions, she smiled.
- Forgive me, and he smiled back. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of me, the inertia of conversation.
- That's all right. I don't have any brothers or sisters, at least that I know of. But I missed them terribly as a child and as a teenager.
- So do you live here permanently, or do you just visit your grandfather?
- I come down and stay with an aunt who I get along very well with, but I'm mostly here from spring through fall to take care of him and the house. Good, now let's get back to you because you've already learned enough about me. And another beautiful child's smile appeared on her face, making Michael say to himself again in his mind “what a cute little thing this is”.
- What would you like to know about me?
- Not necessarily about but from you. How's Sibiu for special opportunities? You know what I mean, don't you?
- Uh, yeah. I guess so. I guess it's not what it once was. Many of the mentors Mr. Grigore told me about... you know him, right?
- Yeah, I met him a couple times.
- Many good mentors have retreated from Sibiu to the mountain villages at the foot of the F?g?ra? massif or far away in the Apuseni Mountains, or have simply disappeared. Why? Would it tempt you to come and live in Sibiu?
- I don't know what I want yet. Only that I met someone there and I think he'd take me home... as his wife.
- Would you take me? she replied surprisingly quickly, blocking him seriously and not knowing how to react.
- Should I answer seriously or still joking? he tested the ground by pausing a little to see her glance but she stared at him very seriously without saying anything, just raising her eyebrows a little as if to say “you decide”. Well I couldn't answer that question yet, he continued shyly, but if I were to confess to you my first thought about the first impression you made on me, without any other cognitive filters, yes, I would most probably marry you too, he replied laughing along with her laughter.
- Aha! I'm glad that's a good first impression I left you, and I like how you react to trick questions, she said as Michael noticed a very slight hint of blush in her cheeks. I have no impression of you yet, good or bad. I need to scan you more deeply. And her hand immediately rested over his in a touch so soft it sent shivers down his spine. That touch must have been the kind of scan she was talking about, he thought. Malina immediately pulled her hand back and turned her head slightly to the other side. Santa must be awake. 'I'll go tell him you're here,' she said as their eyes met again and lingered like that for two seconds.
She slowly got up from the table, took another sip of water with syrup from her mug and then slowly entered the other room. Michael continued to admire the room she was in and the old things in their respective places. He most liked the large chest full of wood placed to the right of the big cast iron stove that was used both for heating the large room and for cooking. Above the stove was a sort of makeshift stainless-steel hood, skillfully fitted together and pointing to the ceiling, but with no suction, for there was no motor to be seen. He stood up with the mug in his hand and approached it, trying to understand how it worked. After two or three minutes, standing in the doorway of her grandfather's room, Melina said softly: