Magdalena: Nightfall

As Magdalena slept, she dreamed that her plants grew. The Wandering Jew and the fuchsia reached out to each other, tentatively at first, but then they intertwined and locked themselves together. Purple and orange proliferated and expanded downward and outward, overspreading the walls, extending tendrils to the ceiling and floor, enveloping the living room in a swelling tide of foliage.

Under the window the tide ebbed slightly, parted, and revealed a disembodied head, flowers tangled in its hair. It was Craig's. Magdalena jerked violently and woke up, disoriented. She turned on a light and looked around searchingly--no plant incursions, no dead body parts. She checked the living room--the same. Her two hanging plants barely brushed against each other, as if shy. Everything was quiet, and almost shockingly normal after the dream.

Magdalena: Totalled

Magdalena's Quest for Self Improvement begins in January of 2005.

Sunday morning a handsome, dark-haired man in tight skiing attire appeared at the snack bar. "Coffee."

"Would you like cream or sugar?"

"Black. Tall. Is there an employee discount?"

"No, sir."

"Hmph."

The dispensing nozzle of the coffee vat got stuck when the cup was half full, and no amount of fussing with the handle would dislodge another drop of coffee. The man fumed, and Magdalena sold him the coffee for the price of a small. She heard him grumble softly, "Teaching families at a place without coffee. Just great."

"Uh, excuse me, are you a ski instructor?"

He seemed surprised to be spoken to. He started a little and quickly answered, "Yes, yes I am."

"I'm sorry to bother you, but you wouldn't happen to know where Craig is, would you?"

"Never heard of him."

"Oh. He's a ski instructor here too."

The man shook his head. "Hate to disappoint you, but I'm the only one. There was some other guy, but he didn't show up this week. Something about totalling his car on a pile of manure. They don't like tardiness here. Listen, thanks for the coffee." He walked briskly away, shoulders squared, every movement purposeful and precise.

Well. This man was good-looking, but he was certainly not cute or friendly. Where was Craig? Did he really run into a pile of crap? And now that she put it that way, how often have all of us run into a pile of crap?

Magdalena: Gainfully Employed

For the rest of the week Magdalena worked diligently at the snack bar, making sure the furnishings were round and there was plenty of food, most of it things that would freeze well. She never saw Craig again that week; what a shame, he was so friendly and cheerful.

Despite the galling lack of a cute ski instructor, she enjoyed her work and its responsibilities. Friday she celebrated the end of her first week at her new job by buying a hanging orange fuchsia plant to provide her other hanging giant with some company in the living room. He had seemed a tad more...male...than usual on Monday, and she thought it was time to find him a female companion with leaves.

Saturday and Sunday she spent the entire day at Mittelmont. Outside the snow swirled in the fog, and from inside the lodge it was impossible to tell whether the storm was natural or artificial.

John dropped by on Saturday. “Oh, hello, you’re still here!” He smiled, looking at once pleased, surprised, apologetic, and scheming. “I’m sorry, I forgot your name. Not that you’re not memorable, but I...meet a lot of people. Ski resort opening, you know.”

“Maggie.”

“Maggie!” He slapped himself on the forehead, hard. “Of course! Maggie! I’m John, if you don’t remember.” She did. “Well, I hope you’ll be around for a while. What are you doing here now?”

“Running the snack bar,” said Magdalena, hoping to sound curt. She decided to drop a hint, too. “It keeps me very busy.”

“Oh yeah, busy, busy!” he drawled, pulling up a round barstool and plopping his angular behind down onto it. “I know I’m working hard, that is, when I’m not hardly working!” He laughed. “That snow machine’s a bitch—excuse me, a bear—to keep running. Damn thing’s brand new, but I’ll be d--, a monkey’s uncle, if it runs worth a spit. I’m out there all the time. Good thing I’ve got a good schedule worked out with my community service! Exes. You know?”

Magdalena shook her head mutely, keeping her expression blank.

“You don’t got an ex? Or you’re just not saying? Just as well. We’d probably sit here and talk all day, and I know something’s broke by now. Better go fix it!”

“Bye.” The word squeezed itself out between Magdalena’s lips in spite of her attempt to maintain a distant, withering silence. Why, why did she feel this irritating, self-destructive compulsion to be polite? Well, you never know, at least this way he can’t tell Amanda she was rude to him. That’s a good thing.

So he thought she’d already be fired by now! Of all the nerve. She shook her head violently and refocused her attention on her job.

Magdalena: Starting Work

On Monday morning Magdalena’s first alarm went off at 6:00, and the radio alarm clicked on at 6:05, but she was already in the shower. She took her time getting ready; she fussed with her appearance, drank her tea, and ate her granola with yogurt while listening to the news.

At 6:55 she bid farewell to each of her plants in turn, assuring them of her prompt return and undying affection. The Wandering Jew was unconcerned, supremely confident that she could never leave him. The hemlock looked more nervous but seemed reassured by the extra attention.

She drove off at 7:05. The fields seemed to part before her and lead her not into temptation, but across the purple bridge and directly to Mittelmont, looming clear and sharp dead ahead. As her car began to climb, a sudden white fog descended. Drat! she thought. What is it with this Midwestern weather? If you don’t like it, just wait five minutes... but it didn’t change again. The fog clung to her all the way to the resort parking lot, where she arrived at 7:45.

She sat for five minutes, then walked over to the main building. She made a ghostly gray figure in her flowing black skirt and long black wool coat, silhouetted against the white fog. Once again there were only a handful of cars in the parking lot, and the building seemed deserted. She looked for the employee kitchen but was unsure which door led to it. Suddenly Amanda glided into view. “Why, good morning, Maggie! I might have known you would be prompt. Let me guide you to your work station. How long can you stay this morning?”

“Um, until noon, ma—Amanda. How are you today?”

“Dear, let’s not waste time with idle chitchat. We have a lot to do this morning, and by we, I mean you!” Amanda laughed musically and explained to Magdalena, “We will be open for business next week, and you will need to have this snack bar up and running by then! There are purchase request forms for you to fill out; I will order everything, but you will need to tell me what to request.”

“Er, how many guests are we expecting?”

“Oh, heavens, how should I know? It’s our first week!”

“Do you have a ballpark figure? One hundred per day? One thousand?”

“Yes, somewhere in that range. We need this place to be shipshape!”

“Do you have an Internet computer that I could use to get ideas and find out what’s available to us?”

“Oh no, dear, you’re here to be the idea person,” Amanda said, sounding a bit stern. Magdalena figured she’d better get cracking, so she did. She took inventory of the snack bar, which was well stocked with mustard packets and salt and pepper packs, but little else. She organized her requisition forms into categories and began to list everything she thought she would need and in what quantities.

As she worked, someone tall, blond, and male labored nearby, carrying skis out of the halls and taking them to places unknown. After a couple hours all the skis were gone, and he stopped and introduced himself.

“Hello, I haven’t seen you here before. My name’s Craig, I’m the ski instructor.” He extended his hand.

Magdalena gratefully took it. “I’m Maggie, I’m the snack bar facilitator.”

“Snack bar facilitator?” His eyes twinkled, but he let the subject drop. “Looks like you’re getting ready for the big day. That’s what I’m doing, too. No one to teach, so I’m setting up the rental area.”

“How long have you been a ski instructor?” asked Magdalena, imagining daredevil rides down steep slopes in rugged mountain ranges, feeling the rush of the wind.

“This is my first job. I’ve been skiing since I was a kid, though. You know, there’s only one Midwestern ski resort that’s received a National Ski Areas Association Award of Excellence, and I don’t think we’re going to be the second, but this is a great start for me, and I’m really glad to be here.”

“This is a great opportunity for me, too. I’m thrilled about it.”

“Well, I guess we’d better be getting back to work, then. Nice to meet you, Maggie.”

“Nice to meet you too.” She watched him leave, then redoubled her efforts with the purchase orders. Any job with cute ski instructors was a job she definitely wanted to keep.

Over the course of the morning someone came by and photocopied her identification and transcript. She left at noon, seeing no one on her way out. That afternoon she delivered her carefully worded written notice at the library, sincerely hoping that she would not lose her new job and find herself without any employment whatsoever.

That evening the purple, abundantly leafy man of the house sensed that Magdalena had had thoughts about someone else, but he knew she would come back to him. She always did. He wished she would bring home a woman some time. That would be hot.

Magdalena: The Good News

Sunday morning Magdalena fixed herself a spinach-feta omelette and brewed some of her last supply of single estate Assam tea. She dined in a leisurely fashion over her brightly patterned blue and white tablecloth while she read the Saturday newspaper, which was cheaper and less time consuming than the Sunday paper. Eventually, when she felt sufficiently collected, she picked up the phone.

“Hello?” came the voice at the other end.

“Hello, Mom! It’s Magdalena!”

“Why, good morning, sweetie! It’s so good to hear your voice!”

“It’s good to talk to you too, Mom! How are you?”

“Well, I’m just fine. Everything’s fine. Your father’s burning the trash outside. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, Mom. Actually, I have news!”

“What is it?” Her mom sounded a little nervous, as if afraid Magdalena was about to announce the unveiling of her stegosaurus.

“I got a job, Mom!”

“Oh! Oh, that’s wonderful news! Your father and I have been pulling for you. You have so many talents, and we’ve just hated to see you get turned down. I don’t know what the world’s coming to today. Everyone’s out for themselves. People work at the same company until they’re 55, and then they’re let go so they don’t get their pension. It used to be that people stayed at the same company until they died, and now there’s no loyalty to employees. Your father and I are so lucky. Many of our friends aren’t so lucky. You know, when I went to look for work, a long time ago now, I went to one place, showed them my diploma, and they hired me. They didn’t interview me or talk to anybody about me; they didn’t ask me anything; they just hired me. Now you go to all these interviews, and you’re so smart and so talented, and I feel so bad for you! That’s just wonderful that you’ve been hired. I’m so glad for you. Your father will be so happy. Oh, but I do go on. What is your job, dear?”

“Don’t worry, Mom, that’s okay. I’m the facilitator at the snack bar at the new ski area on Mittelmont. I think I’m sort of in charge. The pay’s a lot better than at the library, and it’s full time. I’m really excited.”

“Oh, honey, that’s great. I hope they know how lucky they are to have you. Your father and I would like to see you start saving for retirement. This is a step in the right direction. We know you can do so much more than this, but it’s a foot in the door. That’s all you need.”

“Aw, thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. You be careful driving to and from Mittelmont. I don’t want to stand in your way, but you know it’s dangerous there, and if you work late, be sure to stay awake and watch for deer; don’t drive too fast at night...”

After assuring her mother of her never-ending vigilance, hearing tales of every visitor to her parents’ house in the past week and news of every acquaintance of these visitors as well, and eventually giving her own news to her father and dutifully taking note of a few stock recommendations, Magdalena hung up the phone, turned to her herbs, and said, “Feed me.” Then she remembered she’d just eaten an enormous breakfast, so she fixed herself a bowl of raspberry sorbet with a couple sprigs of fresh mint, wishing that just this once she had purchased double chocolate fudge brownie ice cream instead. Magdalena loved her parents more than anything else in the world, but for some reason their conversations often made her hungry.

Magdalena: The Interview

Magdalena proofread her application twice, stood up, paced the kitchen a few times, examined the contents of the refrigerator — a six-pack of water bottles with five left in it, two Pepsis, three different fruit juices, and a couple of yogurts not quite old enough to have value as antiques — ran her fingers over the countertop, gathered herself, and sat down again. She stared fixedly at the wall and took deep, slow breaths, willing herself into displaying composure.

She ran through potential interview questions in her head. What kind of supervisory experience do you have? Who was your least favorite boss, and why? How have you resolved a conflict turning it into a win-win situation, so that everything turned out better for all parties? Describe your organizational strategies. What would your references say about you if we called them? If an employee told you she defrauded the company out of 15 minutes’ pay, what would you do?

Eventually Amanda stretched her long, slender neck through the door frame. “All set, dear?”

“Yes, ma’am, I have everything here.”

“Wonderful, but please, just Amanda, not ma’am,” replied the willowy woman as she smoothly picked up Magdalena’s completed application with her sinuous white arm. She drew the papers to her and glanced through them. “You were in a Circle of the Arts? I love circles.”

“Oh, yes, we would sit in a circle and discuss our projects, and sometimes we’d take trips to Chicapolis...”

“Round trips?”

“Ah, yes....round trips.” Magdalena noticed that Amanda’s gold earrings were hoops.

“How lovely. And can you provide me with proof that you are authorized to work in the United States, and a copy of your diploma or transcript to verify your credentials?”

“Yes, I don’t have them with me, but I can bring them whenever you’d like! My references will verify my work history, too.”

“Oh, there’s no need to speak with your references. I trust you. Why don’t you start on Monday?”

“Monday? Yes! Yes, I’d love to! Um, what will I be doing?”

“Well, of course, you will work at our snack bar. I’d like you to be the facilitator, making sure there are no sharp edges to the services we provide for our guests. You know, serve as many round items as possible.”

“You mean like bagels?”

“Bagels! What a wonderful idea! I never thought of serving bagels! Yes, you see you are perfect for this role in our enterprise. I am never wrong. You will come in on Monday at 8 a.m. I will pay you ten dollars an hour. It is a nice, round number.”

“Th-thank you!” stammered Magdalena. “But I have an afternoon job, and I’ll have to give them two weeks’ notice before I can work here all day. I’m sorry, I’d like to come on full time right now, but I have an obligation...”

“Hm, that is a problem, but I believe we can work around it. I appreciate your candor. You will work every morning and also on weekends until you are free to adhere to a regular schedule of weekdays and alternate weekends. However, you will still begin work on Monday morning. We will not be ready for you tomorrow.”

“That’s wonderful! Thank you so much!” Magdalena tripped over her own tongue in her gratitude.

“You are welcome, my dear. I am willing to sacrifice a little to have you on board. An innovative mind like yours will do wonders for our snack bar. Bagels!” Amanda glided swiftly from the room.

Magdalena stared numbly at the table, picked herself up, and walked mechanically out of the building, meeting no one. Well, she thought, she had been through stranger interviews than that without getting hired. At least this one ended in a job offer. How bad could it be?

The fog lifted as she drove down from Mittelmont, but she continued to feel dazed. She drove along the county road through the fields, over the vivid purple bridge painted by the local contractor who believed bridges should never blend into the background, past a couple of gas stations, and eventually into her own narrow, pitted driveway.

She entered her house, stood stock still for a moment, then screamed, jumped up and down, and ran around from room to room telling her plants how excited she was. She figured that plants respond well to happiness, so maybe this would be good for their health. She hoped that her happiness would continue, and her plants would grow like gangbusters and take over the place.

The first order of business was a thank-you note, and Magdalena dug out her card stock. She looked at it for a moment, then painted a series of interlocking circles in pastel colors on one of the cards and set it aside to dry. What the heck, she painted a second card too, so she could choose the best one.

She glanced over at her Wandering Jew. He looked bigger.

The weekend passed quickly after that, and the hemlock began to look as if it was considering a move against Socrates in the near future.

Magdalena: Mittelmont

Magdalena entered a low, rambling white building. It was as institutional on the inside as it was on the outside. It could have been a school or a medical clinic, except for the pairs of skis leaning up against the walls at random intervals.

Magdalena peered around feeling lost, not sure where to go or whom to look for. Much to her relief, a slender, middle-aged woman glided out from a side door to greet her. She wore a white knit pantsuit; the jacket had large white plastic buttons down the front. Her high-heeled white leather ankle boots had a narrow trim of real fur. Her platinum blond hair was meticulously styled and sprayed into place. All of her jewelry was white gold and extremely conservative.

“Why, hello! Welcome to Mittelmont Lodge. My name is Amanda Wynn. Please call me Amanda.” She shook Magdalena’s hand warmly, holding on until Magdalena let go.

“I’m Maggie Wegian. I’m so pleased to meet you. I learned you were opening a ski resort here, and I wondered if you could use some help.”

“My, such initiative! I’m delighted to meet you, Maggie. We have openings for ski instructors, custodial staff, and servers at our snack bar. All of our positions coordinating ski rentals and lift tickets for our guests have already been filled.”

Suddenly Magdalena noticed there were no snowboards, but she continued the conversation without mentioning it. “Oh, I have waitressing experience! I worked in a family restaurant, promoting a comfortable and welcoming atmosphere!”

“That’s just wonderful. Why don’t I find you an application? Here, let me show you to the employee kitchen.” Amanda placed her hand behind Magdalena’s elbow and guided her through an unmarked white door into a small room containing a breakfast table with three chairs, a large beige refrigerator, and a sink and countertop with a microwave. Amanda stepped out, and Magdalena took a seat at the breakfast table and started reading the brochure sitting on it, advertising “The Midwest’s Most Challenging Slopes” and “Highest Quality Rescue Services.”

A tall, wiry, dark-haired man with a weathered face entered. “Hello, my name’s John, you must be new here,” he said, looking her over in a manner that displayed a little too much interest.

“I’m Maggie. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you! Are you here to help with the clean-up?”

“Ah, no, I’m applying to work at the snack bar.”

“Oh. Well.” He paused briefly. “Good luck!” He pulled a Pepsi and a ham sandwich from the refrigerator. During the lull in the conversation, Amanda popped in.

“Oh, hello, John.”

“Hello, Amanda. I was just taking my lunch break.”

“That’s fine,” she said, and turning away from him, went on, “Maggie, dear, here is an employment application for you. Why don’t you just fill this out, and I’ll come back in a few minutes to talk with you about what you might like to do for us.”

“Thank you so much, Amanda!”

“Oh, thank you.” She turned her head and added in a stiffer tone, “I’ll see you soon, John.” John nodded, and Amanda glided out.

Magdalena began to write out her employment application, but as she wrote, John still leaned against the countertop, crossing his long legs, slowly and thoughtfully eating his ham sandwich, and watching her intently. She could tell that he badly wanted to make conversation. She preferred to write her job application, but she felt rude about ignoring him. She decided to acknowledge him with a polite question that should elicit a short response, and one that would tell her a little about Mittelmont. She would not use his name, not wanting to encourage any feelings of intimacy. “What do you do here?”

John looked relieved, and tumbled immediately into slightly halting but gregarious speech. “I do the grounds work here. I plant gardens in summer. In winter I shovel snow, and I’m gonna run the snow machine this winter! I think that’s funny, I add snow in some places and take it away others. I pretty much do anything that needs doing. I cleaned the toilets yesterday and mopped the floors. I really like working here. I only work here part time. I’d like to work more hours, but I have to be in town. I’m being charged in a court case. I didn’t do nothing, but I have to stay in town a lot until the case is over. I got me a lawyer. It’s my ex got me into this. We were at this bar drinking, and she yelled at me, and I yelled at her, and now she says I abused her. But I didn’t. I’m innocent. I got witnesses. She’s just mad at me ’cause we’re not going out no more. So I’m gonna get through this court case, and then I can come work here full time.”

Magdalena tried to appear composed. She nodded sagely and continued writing out her past job experience. After a while she said soothingly, “I’m sure they’ll clear everything up for you.”

“Yeah, it’s just such a pain in my ass, excuse me, it’s just a pain. I can’t work as much as I want, and I have to pay this lawyer, and I hate to be cooped up in one town. Wish I hadn’t dated that b--, uh, that awful woman.”

Magdalena continued to write. She was almost finished. “Well, breakups are painful.”

“Sure are. Well, it was nice talking with you, I guess I’d better go, got, um, snow equipment to fix.”

“Bye! Maybe I’ll see you around.”

John finally left, and Magdalena breathed a sigh of relief. She finished her employment application and moved on to the proofreading. Magdalena was very careful to proofread because she had heard she could lose a job because of a single misplaced comma. She hoped her interviewer wouldn’t think that a properly placed comma was actually wrong. She tried to avoid commas.

Magdalena: Journey

Magdalena set out Saturday morning, grateful for a weekend without snow, picturing herself struggling to climb Mittelmont in her small and vulnerable, aged Corolla. Once she got a job, she would buy snow tires.

With the car packed with emergency blankets, chemical hand warmers, sand, salt, a snow shovel, and of course a flashlight, Magdalena carefully slipped into her dirt-encrusted car without staining her flowing skirt. She pulled on her sunglasses and drove smoothly down the county road in the glaring white light of the winter day, orienting herself by the single peak visible throughout the entire region.

The closer she got to Mittelmont, the whiter her surroundings became. As the car started to climb, she realized she was no longer engulfed by a white light, but by white fog. She took off her sunglasses and tried to pick out where the snow ended and the fog began, but it was impossible to tell. How odd, she thought. She hadn’t seen any fog on the way here!

She knew she had arrived when she reached a parking lot. There were only a handful of other vehicles in the lot. She chose a space and got out of the car with her purse and an envelope containing a list of references and her general purpose resume.

MAGDALENA I. WEGIAN
523105 226th Ave.
Outaway City

SUMMARY OF QUALIFICATIONS
• Attentive, customer-centered attitude
• Good written and verbal communication skills
• Organizational skills, attention to detail proven in work at public library
• Computer literacy
• Energy, friendly personality, dependability

EDUCATION
TALL CORN INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY. Art History. B.A. 1994

EXPERIENCE
OUTAWAY CITY PUBLIC LIBRARY, 2000-present
Library Assistant
• Serve customers over telephone and in person
• Maintain orderly reference system
• Page and shelve books
• Request books via Inter-Library Loan
• Chosen to represent staff at select community events

FAMILY TRUCK STOP AND KAFE, Outaway City, 1994-2000
Waitress
• Waited tables, operated cash register
• Promoted family atmosphere for travelers and local customers
• Always wore smile and put customer first
• Honored as Employee of Month five times

TCIT MUSEUM OF SCIENCE AND ART, 1990-1994
Student Assistant
• Greeted all visitors to museum
• Represented museum to patrons, answered their questions cheerfully and patiently
• Commended to supervisors for going out of my way to help patrons find parking, find Admissions Office, etc.

LEADERSHIP AND COMMUNITY SERVICE
BOOKS ON WHEELS, Outaway City, 1998-present
DOLPHINS WOMEN’S ARTS CLUB, Outaway City, 1995-present
• Delivered multiple presentations on varying topics, including Frida Kahlo and women’s self-portraiture, art of the American West, and a brief history of mystery novels
COMMUNITY PARK AND GARDEN VOLUNTEER STAFF, Outaway City, 1997-2000
• Helped establish community flower garden
TALL CORN WOMEN’S ALLIANCE, TCIT, 1992-1994
TALL CORN CIRCLE OF THE ARTS, TCIT, 1990-1994

Magdalena: At Home

Magdalena lived modestly in a small, rented home five miles from the nearest town, Outaway City. The house sat by itself on a small lot surrounded on three sides by a bean field. One oak stood in the yard, and, trying to stand but not really making it, sprawled the rusted-out remains of a swingset that Magdalena intended to convert into sculpture once she found the money to take a welding class. She thought a stegosaurus would do nicely. Perhaps if she got really good at welding, she could turn it into a swingset-themed custom chopper, but she would have to practice a lot.

The house had a small porch, and in summertime Magdalena would sit there, careful to distribute her weight evenly across the rotting boards and supplemental two-by-fours. She would gaze past her peeling blue paint and watch the corn grow on the other side of the county road, the fourth side of her rented plot. When drivers passed, she would raise her index finger calmly and deliberately, and they would raise theirs in return.

Upon opening the rickety, cartoonishly saggy screen door and kicking in the sticky interior wooden door, one reluctantly set foot on the peeling tiles of the kitchen floor. The kitchen was clean and cheerful, and it generally smelled of cinnamon. In wintertime the tiny windowsill above the heavily stained ceramic sink was choked with herbs in small, decorated pots. The rusted metal kitchen table teetered perilously but was covered with a cheerful cotton tablecloth. The bathroom, similarly stained but clean and cheerful, opened off the kitchen.

To the right was a doorless passageway into what might charitably be called a living room. Atop this room's matted green carpet rested a prickly, burnt orange three-cushion couch dotted with colorful hand-knitted blankets, a brown leather recliner that was missing several buttons, a green three-legged footrest, a side table supporting an 11” TV with a built-in VCR, and a folding chair and card table with an outdated computer, printer, telephone, and piles upon piles of paper, much of it also outdated. The walls supported unframed drawings and paintings, some by Magdalena, some by her friends. A Wandering Jew houseplant hung territorially from the ceiling: the man of the house.

The back room was the bedroom, which contained a full-sized bed, a dresser, two antique lamps, a filing cabinet, a dwarf hemlock tree, and more artwork. The bright side to having only a few small, almost windowless rooms was that it kept the heating bills down.

Magdalena supported herself with a half-time job as a library assistant, but although she did not like to think of herself as materialistic, she had higher aspirations. She wanted to work full time. She had a dozen resumes, each tailored to a different career path: receptionist, short order cook, data entry clerk, waitress, seamstress,... It puzzled her that she had found nothing in nearly a year of searching. She was well liked by her parents, grandparents, landlord, and three friends. She dressed well, in clean, black full-length dresses with bright jewelry. More than that, she was a responsible person with a kind disposition who deserved to be able to take a welding class.

Reading a newspaper during her break at the library, Magdalena learned that a ski resort would soon be opening at Mittelmont, the only substantial hilly outcrop in the area, apparently somehow created by glaciers. A ski resort would have to hire workers. True, Mittelmont had a reputation for strange occurrences, even disappearances, but beggars could not be choosers. She needed a second job, and she was determined to try every possible avenue.