As expected, the orders come pouring in. Saria can’t keep her big mouth shut and in this instance, Mina appreciates the hype. Word-of-mouth recommendation is more valuable than any advertisement. Once a celebrity gets talking, whatever comes out of their diamond-encrusted mouths becomes an instant trend.
The only problem is that the demand far exceeds the availability of the hair. Ardan wouldn’t budge on the supply.
“Just find more women willing to sell their hair,” Mina says into the phone. She hears him sigh on the other end.
“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, Miss Mina. Unless you want any hair off any old hag, you’ll have to be patient. You did say, single-sourced, correct?”
“Yes, and I don’t want any of that ‘fallen hair’ garbage. I’m sure you can find some good strands but Whilemina hair doesn’t sell that. Only the finest, single-sourced, 100 percent-”
He cuts her off and says, “virgin hair. I know, I know. And that is what I deliver, but unfortunately, the supply can’t be rushed, and can’t be re-sourced. These things take a little time. It is not my specialty but I can supply you with what you need. You understand these things, right?
She pouts to herself in her mind and changes the subject since she’s going nowhere with her request. “And what’s with that delivery woman? Can’t you send someone who can actually pick up a box and bring it inside? She’s a little too old to be working, don’t you think?”
He laughs, heartily. “Hertha of Avalon likes the adventure and driving.”
“Really?” Mina says with a snicker, “I don’t know anyone who likes Los Angeles traffic.”
“She says she likes the wind in her hair and the sun on her skin. She spends a lot of time indoors so any time she can get out and stretch her legs is appreciated, I suppose.”
Mina changes the subject to more important matters. “Ardan, since it looks like we’re going to be doing business together for some time, I would like to set up a visit to your factory. It’s standard procedure for me. I always take a tour of my vendor’s establishments.”
“Factory? There is no factory. The hair is cut and bundled, bagged and boxed, shipped to you, and delivered by the little old woman who lives in a shoe. Heaven knows she has too many mouths to feed. Poor woman, her husband died, you know?”
Mina chuckled at the nursery rhyme drop because she could envision Hertha, living in a shoe-shaped house.
“Then your warehouse, or whatever you call it. I want to schedule a tour.”
“Shop. It is merely a shop of four walls and a workbench. Nothing to see. Your imagination would be more appealing than the actual site.”
“Well whatever it is, as unappealing as it may be, I need to schedule a tour with you. It’s a must for my business. Ethics plays a big role in Whelimina Hair products. We stand by our ethical, humane, and sustainable pledges to our clients. It is extremely important. You understand, right?”
There’s a pause before he says, “of course. Must keep up with pretenses and expectations. It’s all about the glamour, no?” He doesn’t wait for her to respond. “I will send directions and instructions along with Hertha on her next delivery. Do not share the scroll with anyone else. The whereabouts of my shop must remain a secret, more importantly, the island in which it sits, Eden.”
“Your secrets are safe with me. I never reveal sources, only ensure my clients of their authentic origins,” she says with confidence.
He goes on, “Your guide’s name will also be enclosed and where to find him. He must be the one to bring you here. Anyone else and you may not make it passed the ice walls. I won’t lie to you, Miss Mina, the journey can be dangerous, tricky, and confusing for those not privy to its hidden routes and winding passages.”
“You make it sound impossible. Hiding something you don’t want me to see?” She feels suspicious of him, more so than when they first met. She doesn’t understand his cryptic way of speaking. Covert locations, and secret islands. Mina wonders what makes Eden Island so special besides the obvious nod to the book of Genesis from the Holy Bible.
“There is nothing to hide, Miss Mina. I am merely stating that the journey is long and treacherous. I fear you may be disappointed upon your arrival, but I understand your promise to your clients and that you must see my shop.”
“Wonderful,” she says, “I look forward to it then.”
“As do I, Miss Mina.”
They end the call. Mina sits back in her plush office chair and eyes the order list of some of the most famous names in the world. And they all want her Rampion hair. She clenches her fist. At this rate, she’ll be lucky to fill the orders on the list by the year’s end. It leaves her no wiggle room to offer it to the general market. Regular clients will have to wait until the frenzy for Rampion dies down amongst the A-listers of the world.
In the meantime, there’s a ton of money to make off the regular hair. The buzz around Rampion can be used to drive sales for everything else. She returns phone calls for the rest of the afternoon. She books interviews, magazine photo shoots, and a feature of Rampion Hair at the upcoming New York fashion show. Wilhelmina's Rampion hair is going to grace the catwalk with some of the biggest names in fashion and it’s exciting.
Two weeks later, Hertha arrives in the same navy blue minivan. She’s wearing a cream-colored long dress this time. Her hair is the same neatly combed down the middle with tight curls at the ends. She’s covering it with a modern scarf which clashes with her old-fashioned dress.
Mina smiles and follows her to the back of the minivan. It’s become a routine for them to exchange a few pleasantries while Mina retrieves the box in the back. This time Hertha hands her an envelope.
“Master Ardan says to give you this. Instructions on how to get to Eden Island.” But she doesn’t let go of the envelope right away and Mina tugs lightly on it to pull it away from her old grasp. The old woman huffs and says, “You shant stay long there missy, if I were you”
“Excuse me?” Mina is taken aback by the statement.
“A place like Eden is no place for mortals.” She squints her little blue eyes at her. “Go there for what you came for and be on your way lest the devils take you and the fae will let them. Those mongrels protect no one, not even their guests with their trickery.”
Her expression is rough with wrinkles. “You’re a good girl, I can tell. A good girl who’s lost her way but nonetheless with good intentions. May the gods pity you, girl.”
Every time this woman shows up, she has something irritating to say. It irks Mina to be called a girl. She’s over thirty, far from girlhood. “You mean like Zeus and Odin? I don’t believe in gods. If they ever existed, they were probably just a bunch of asshole humans parading around as something special. They were as ordinary as anyone else. That's what I think.”
Hertha chuckles and coughs as she struggles to lift herself into the van. She lets out a breath as she sits in the driver's seat. “You’re right, they are as real as fairies. Besides, I never did like Zeus. Pompous bastard.”
She closes the door, turns on the van, and rolls down the window. Mina stands on the sidewalk and lifts a hand in a half-way goodbye to her. “Hold on, girl, one more thing.” She digs around the middle compartment and says, “I almost forgot to give you this too.”
Mina shifts the box to her hip, to free a hand and take whatever else the old woman has for her. “This may be of some service to you.”
A red rosary unfolds from her palm as she dangles it between her fingers. The crucifix looks like brushed silver and catches the light with a shine.
“Thanks but I’m not Catholic,” Mina says.
“Oh no, you take it. It’s a gift. It will help anchor you back to the world of man and help you find your way. The cross is made of iron and the beads are made of roses. It comes from the Vatican. I was told the old man they call the Pope blessed it himself. Smell it, its a lovely scent.”
Mina brings the rosary to her nose and indeed it smells of fresh cut roses, a subtle scent of summer. “Thank you, it’s beautiful but I’m not Catholic.”
The old woman gets curt and she seems annoyed by Mina’s attempt to again give back the gift. “Catholic or not, it’s a symbol of-” her voice falls into a whisper, “you know what it’s for and whom it represents so don’t act foolish. I’m helping you. You should be so grateful for my help you little shit.”
Mina’s face reddens with anger. She wants to slap the old woman but doesn’t. It wouldn’t look right for her to strike an old lady. “You have your nerve you old bag.” It’s a ridiculous comeback but the only thing that pops into her head.
Hertha laughs and coughs, “I like you. Take care Miss Mina and the cross will take care of you. Mark my words.”
Hertha doesn’t wait for Mina to respond, she pulls out of the parking lot and drives away. Mina is flabbergasted but glad to see her go. She goes back inside the office and hands the box over to Evelyn so that the hair can be processed right away. She'll cross out five more names from the list that keeps growing. Every time she seems to put a dent in it, more names are added and it gets longer.
In the quiet of her office, Mina places the rosary on her desk in a little pile in the corner and examines the envelope. It’s an off-white color with frayed edges and a red wax seal. It reminds her of the wedding invitations from her brother’s wedding six years ago. The wax seal has an image of little mushrooms in a circle. She lifts it slowly to release it from the paper, not wanting to tear it.
The envelope unfolds into a single sheet. The words inside are in black ink. The handwriting is a beautiful script. She imagines it was done with a quill or something equally as ridiculous but with the same beautiful results. She reads the entirety of the letter and realizes there is no address, no streets, no city or zip codes. She reads it again because perhaps she missed it between Ardan’s ridiculous sentence structure.
Mina,
I trust this letter reaches you in good health and fortune. Your journey should begin in Spring, when the weather is best to journey but should you insist on venturing now, I advise you do so with caution. Heed these words and guard this letter closely. Better yet, burn it after you’ve taken it to memory lest it falls into the wrong hands. I reiterate the importance that your route remains a secret, one in which is only shared with the Captain himself. Speaking of which.
Seek out Captain Barrett Rodrigo amongst the taverns of Redondo Beach. They are few but the Captain prefers the ones that face the sea. He may deny your request to hire him but make a good offer and he will oblige. As I said before, he must bring you here. Any other Captain of the sea will only get lost, no matter how seasoned he is at sailing. His knowledge will fail him when you reach the ice wall and you will be lost at sea forever.
Upon reaching the Island of Eden, you will come upon the docks and the folk will ask you of your intent. They will offer you food, shelter, mead and beer but do not trouble yourself with their hospitality. Insist you are here to see me. Ask for me by name and they will know who I am and bring you to me.
Ah, by now you are wondering on how to identify Rodrigo, yes? He is a strong, stout man of reasonable height with dark hair and equally dark eyes. A mead drinker who never leaves home without his bowie knife secured on his waistbelt. Wish I could explain him more, but I think you’ll have little trouble finding him.
Below is the map. Memorize it and then destroy it.
P.S. Don’t eat the food or drink the wine. Bring your own provisions.
Sincerely,
Ardan of Eden Island
The map looks rudimentary. The outline of the North American continent is separated by lines and squiggles representing ocean currents. Another outline of what she presumes to be the ice wall is near the bottom half of the map. There’s a gap that she assumes is the passageway to Eden, the island outlined at the bottom. She’s guessing at most of what she’s looking at and grows frustrated and tosses the paper on the desk.
Find Captain Rodrigo. She thinks about the bars she knows of in Redondo Beach. She hasn’t been there in years and she only remembers two, four if she counts the restaurants. There’s also outdoor dinning on the pier and they serve alcohol too. However, the letter states ‘taverns’ specifically and makes no mention of restaurants.
It’s Friday and in a few hours, the dreaded rush hour traffic will begin, if it hasn’t already. Mina hates Fridays because the traffic is always worse. She buzzes Evelyn to book her a suite in one of Redono Beach’s hotels, something close to the pier with ocean views. Then she calls Yvette and invites her to a ‘girls’ weekend getaway with promises of bar-hopping and a spa visit in the morning. Yvette is a sucker for both and agrees to go.