The Old Man and the Windmill

---Aaron---

Uncle George looked a bit surprised that we were going to leave so soon. However, he didn't argue and just said that he'll help us stock up with food and supplies. On our last day at Northbell we tried to help around the inn to make up for all the food we ate and the free boarding. Indigo's aunt shooed us out, proclaiming that it was no problem and we didn't have to worry about all that. Indigo led us on a horseback sightseeing tour around the village.

"See that windmill? It belongs to old Henry. My brothers and I used to play there all the time, and he'd give us a few candies every now and then, especially if we help around the mill." Indigo recounted, smiling at the memory. "Those candies were so good."

"You shouldn't take candy from strangers," I teased. "Not safe."

"He was a nice old man who lived in a mill. I can look after myself, thank you very much," Indigo shot back. I grinned.

"Let's pay him a visit, then," Katherine suggested. "I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you again."

"Good idea! Follow me." Indigo brightened and beckoned us to follow her along a dusty side path leading through a green meadow to the windmill on the other side. The windmill, built on top of a hill, was worn by years of wind and rain, but looked to be in good condition. We left our horses to graze at the bottom of the hill and raced each other up. By the time we reached the worn oaken doors we were all laughing and trying to catch our breath.

"Alright. You all stay back," Indigo instructed. She walked up to the door and raised the doorknocker. We backed up to a respectful distance as Indigo knocked three times. Soon, the door opened, and a hunchback appeared. I involuntarily took a step back, as did the others. This guy must be old Henry. He was intimidating.

He had snow white hair and a wizened beard. His large hands was full of calluses and looked capable of strangling a bear.. His frame filled up the doorway, and I felt that if he wasn't a hunchback he would've stood at least six feet six inches. This guy glared at us with electric blue eyes, before his gaze landed on Indigo, who stood her ground, smiling.

"Hello Mr. Henry! Remember me?" Old Henry looked at her for three seconds. Then he broke into a wide smile.

"Indy! My lass!" He wrapped her up into a crushing embrace. For all that his intimidating appearance was worth, Old Henry's voice was actually not that gruff. He held Indigo at arm's length to inspect her.

"Wow, you've grown a lot since I last saw you! My, my, you're a young lady now, aren't you?" Old Henry beamed at Indigo like he was looking at his own grandchild. "And look at this outfit and the sword! A warrior now, are we?"

"You haven't changed at all, Mr. Henry," Indigo laughed. "You look just as I remembered."

"Oh, but I've gotten older these years as you grew taller," said Old Henry. "How I missed you and your brothers! You were always my favorite." He winked cheerily.

"I brought friends to visit you, Mr. Henry," said Indigo. She stepped aside to reveal the six of us gaping at this scary-looking man who actually turned out to be quite nice. "Guys, meet my old friend Mr. Henry."

"Hi Mr. Henry," we said a bit timidly. Old Henry looked delighted. His bushy eyebrows disappeared into his hair. "Such a pleasant surprise! Won't you introduce them to me, Indigo?"

"This is Aaron, Lucian, Ashley, Katherine, Rachel, and Jason," Indigo said, pointed at each of us. "They're all good friends of mine at the Academy."

"Well, come on in! I haven't had guests in a long time." Old Henry ushered us in.

The mill was surprising clean and airy. Sunlight filtered in through windows set high up into the building. There were sacks of flour piled neatly along one edge of the room. A fireplace sat in a corner and a stove in another. A table with chairs and comfy-looking sofas took up a small section in the middle. A bookshelf lined the other two edges of the room. Looking up, I saw a staircase winding itself up. What interested me was the contraptions in the middle of the room. I saw pictures of it in books before. It was the thing used to grind wheat into flour. I never saw one in real life before, so it was pretty cool.

"Sit, sit." Old Henry waved towards the chairs and sofas. We obeyed, still looking around the room. Old Henry took out some cookies and passed it around. "Here, try some. Baked it myself."

"Ooh, are these your snicker doodle cookies?" Indigo gasped. "I love those!"

"Indeed it is," smiled Old Henry. "I can see you haven't changed your love for my sweets."

"Of course not. Guys, Mr. Henry makes the best cookies in the world. You haven't lived if you didn't eat one of his cookies." Indigo turned to us, talking.

I took one from the plate and bit into it. Heaven. It was so good I can't even describe it. It was soft yet crisp, and it felt like it melted on my tongue. It was just the right level of sweetness, and I tasted something besides just cookie. There was a taste of familiarity. A memory flashed in my mind. A fireplace. Silhouettes. Laughter and warmth. A hug. Mom.

I blinked, trying to will away the sudden tears. Around me, everyone was savoring the cookies. Katherine had her eyes closed, lost in a memory. Lucian stared at it, but not seeing. Even Indigo had a weird look on her face. The cookie had brought out something in the depths of our hearts. Old Henry looked at us, calm and patient.

"This isn't your usual cookie," said Indigo, alarmed. She looked at Old Henry with shock and suspicion in her eyes. "Mr. Henry, what is this exactly?"