“Follow the road that takes you parallel to the river and it’s the house at the end—198.”
“Great, I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes, would that be okay?” I asked. I needed to wait a little so it didn’t seem like I was parked outside, which I was.
“Perfect. Blessings.” She hung up.
I looked at my phone. “Blessings?” I repeated thoughtfully.Blessings for what?
“Please, please take your shoes off,” Zintle said, as I stood there by the front door to the massive house.
“Uh, sure.” I took my shoes off somewhat reluctantly. I didn’t really like walking around barefooted.
“Is that your car?” she asked suddenly. The tone she used when asking this question was very judgemental, and from that I gauged that I was driving the wrong kind of car. “It’s not very eco-friendly, is it?” She looked at me. “I’m not sure your neighbors will be happy with—”
“It’s powered with biofuel,” I quickly said.
“Oh, really?” She perked up. “Well, that is a good sign. Before buying a house here, you have to be approved for residency by the eco committee.”
“The . . . ?” I asked.
“There are very strict rules, here, and the Willows only likes to open its gates to those who share in the same sustainable ideals. Like-minded individuals only. That’s why this development chose me as their official estate agent; I share their ideals.”
I nodded. I barely recycled. “Of course. I agree wholeheartedly. I mean, it is just terrible what’s happening to the seahorses,” I added.
Zintle gasped. “I know! Did you see that photo of the poor seahorse holding a cotton bud in its tail?”
I put my hand to my heart. “Tragic. Truly, it kept me awake at night.”
Zintle lay her hand on my shoulder in commiseration. “So sad,” she said. “Come, let’s go inside.”
I could see by the look of seriousness on her face that this was going to be a very thorough tour, and I wasn’t going to be let off the hook very easily.
Before letting me inside, she stopped me once more. “Do you mind taking your cell phone out and placing it in that box, there?” She pointed to a box on the wall.
“Why?” I asked.
“They don’t allow electronics in the house. To protect against microwaves and radiation,” she said. “That box traps all the harmful rays inside.”
I nodded. “Of course. What an . . . an . . . excellent idea. I really must start doing that.” I tried not to roll my eyes as I put my phone into the small box that seemed encased in some strange black-looking rocks.
“Shungite crystals,” she said. “Very powerful stones.”
“Mmmm,” I mumbled. Like my useless rose quartz table that was supposed to have brought calm and harmony into my home. Well, if that thing had brought me even an iota of that, I wouldn’t find myself here now, would I? I’d have written a damn book, and, right now, I would be leisurely sipping on cappuccinos while editing my manuscript before sending it in. So much for rocks!
We walked into the hallway and I looked around. This house appeared perfectly normal inside—that is, until she started talking about it. Very soon, I realized that there was nothing normal about this house.
“The whole house is made from green bricks.” She ran her hand over the wall.
“Green?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Yes—made from hemp, lime and water.”
“Mmmm, I see.” I nodded, trying to look impressed. But I wasn’t. In fact, I was more concerned about whether something so flimsy-sounding could really hold up a house. Some bloody marijuana seeds did not seem like a good addition to any part of a house, let alone the walls. What was next, chia-seed cement?
“And this paint—feel how smooth it is.” She rubbed the wall and I placed my hand on it too. “Soap, berries and cornstarch. Makes a totally natural paint. Completely non-toxic.” She smiled at me and I smiled back.
“Fabulous,” I said, patting the wall.
“And the floor.” She dropped her bag suddenly and got down on all fours. She looked up at me. “Come, come,” she beckoned.
