Birds of a Feather - a MPHFPC fanfiction

#3 - Miss LeFay Peregrine

"Dad, who is Alma LeFay Peregrine?" I asked during dinner, while munching on the Swedish meatballs we ordered from a nearby diner.

"Peregrine? I never heard that name. But Alma LeFay sounds familiar." My dad replied, not even looking up from his plate. He was busy trying to find the perfect meatball to sauce ratio to make it taste better, because, let's face it, the food was kinda trash. "Why are you asking?"

"Just... asking." I shrugged.

"Where'd you hear the name?" My dad asked with his mouth full and sauce dripping down his chin. I handed him a napkin to buy some time, though the extra few seconds weren't enough to think of something smart.

"Umm... I don't know..."

"Probably your grandpa." He answered the question for himself. "He likes old family gossip."

"Yeah, probably... I can't recall the story though." I responded a bit hesitantly.

"Alma was my four-times-great-grandpa's cousin, or something like that. A real weirdo. Had two brothers just as weird as her." My dad's tone was bored as if he were explaining basic knowledge. "There was a rumor going around that they were witches, and one day they just disappeared. Our side of the family was scared that they 'made a deal with the devil' and cut contact. I heard her parents committed suicide because of her and her brothers."

I shuddered but I was too curious not to ask more questions.

"What did she do to earn the title of the witch?" I inquired.

"No clue. It was the 1800s. The common village folk could accuse anyone of witchcraft." My dad shrugged. "She's more like a family legend now, almost no one knows what she was like."

I hummed along and pretended to be satisfied with the knowledge.

"Wasn't she a writer?" I risked the question.

"No clue." My dad seemed really done with my questions. "I never wanted to learn more about her. Growing up she was a scary tale to me. Like Bloody Mary or Baba Yaga. 'Be good or Alma will get you', that's what my parents always said."

He paused to stuff his thoughtful-looking face. "Now that I think about it, I'm not even sure if she's real."

"Oh, I see." I turned my attention back towards the poorly made meatballs, which had also cooled down while I was busy interrogating my dad.

"Why do you even care?" My mom raised her eyebrows.

"I told you, I'm just curious." I put on a neutral expression. "How was your day, by the way?"

She started to ramble about some annoying colleagues who argue over opening and closing the windows in the office. My dad nodded along and did not dare to interrupt her, so she soon got really heated, and didn't even notice when I sneaked away from the dinner table.

I grabbed my phone and started a search engine. I typed "Alma LeFay Peregrine" and pressed "search". There was only one result, a website called "Old Unsolved Crimes". It was about a certain Alma, Jack and Myron LeFay who went missing in the 1870s. Some claim that a few years later they saw Alma in their home village, shortly before their parents' suicide, but the witnesses are said to be unreliable.

It was just Alma LeFay. Not Alma LeFay Peregrine. And the book she wrote wasn't mentioned anywhere.

I tried to search the full title, certain parts of it, and the Syndrigast Publications, but nothing. Like this book wasn't supposed to exist.

I knew what I had to do now. Read it.

.::[🪶]::.

I didn't sleep at all that night. I read the whole thing. It seemed to be a guide to a world I never heard of, one where I might fit in and finally belong.