Taking A Breath! It's Saturday!

 

L' Chaim!!

🌸🤍🌸

The Lord bless thee, and keep thee:

The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee:

The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.

Numbers 6:24-26

A Day For Rest and Reflection

         It's been quite a year, this 2024, hasn't it? There has been turmoil and angst, with some very great blessings also. Much to ponder. Much to release to the Almighty God of creation.

        We lost three good friends this year. First Mawskrat, then JettieG. And now Karla has gone before us.

        It's always a sad surprise, but we may be confident that they are well. Their souls go on forever. 

        All three were and are children of God, and that is our comfort.

Some scenes from her life.

💕

        This year we have also seen the people rise up against the degradation of our time. It looks like we will have a reprieve. 

        It's a time to keep our chins up, to seek out the good and enlarge upon it. Surely this is good news.

        I hope you are all having a day off to rest from all the cooking and visiting, if that is your style!

A Tall Tale For Thanksgiving Day

 

 
            Hiram was always fond of a good meal. That much is known. His helpmeet, henceforth to be known as Selma, could disassemble a deer, or a fish, or a beaver, or whatever, even turkey, as well as the next Squatchwife. But, try as she might, she never got the hang of roasting at first.
            The burnt down Squatch huts can attest to her attempts. Alas.
            One day Hiram followed his nose to a source of intriguing, delicious scents. Coming out of the deep eastern forest, deciduous, still sporting some brightly colored leaves, he observed that the local Tribal types were having dinner with the newcomers. As in all apocryphal stories, all was peace and concord.
            He invited himself to the party, and the rest is history. You know how history is.
            He mingled and chatted. He ate a whole wild turkey, spit roasted, with corn, beans and pumpkin pudding made with spices. No one seemed to mind him at all. He carried a turkey home to Selma. He suggested that she get to know the wives of the humans back in what would be town.
            OK, he didn’t chat really.  He didn’t know any human languages. But everybody was happy together anyhow.
            It enlarged his imagination. He began to formulate dreams and desires. He saw possibilities. He thought maybe Selma could learn how to roast meat, and maybe grow some corn. And she did! By the end of her life, she could even make biscuits and pie!
            Hiram and Selma brought forth children. Larry, Rose, Porky, Agnes, and Roger. Our tale continues with Porky.
            Porky never fit in with the locals, human or Squatch. He had a nose for adventure and a questing nature. He was also rather fat, and always hungry. He thought he would head out west just to see how things were out there. He didn’t know after all.  Neither did anyone else.
            Porky reached a great river and stopped there. The hunting was good, and the fish were huge. He met a young lady of the correct species, named Elise. She taught him how to swim, well, actually, float. Together they moved to the opposite bank. It took all day to get over there. The hunting was just as good on that side.
            Porky and Elise learned how to make better huts from some broadminded French trappers who worked up and down the river, staying in little houses when the weather was too rough, and they weren’t going up and down on their rafts.
            Their son, Samuel, was also of a curious nature. He thought that if going west was good enough for his parents, why, it was good enough for him.  He had heard the tale of the westward migration many times and heartily approved.
            Now, Samuel was extremely tall. In fact, he was the cause of so many stories about giants in the old days. Just like Neil says, he walked like a giant in the land! He was ten feet tall and blond all over. His feet were twenty inches long and ten inches wide.
            Samuel settled in the great grasslands that seemed to go on forever. There he feasted on bison and prospered. He met Giselle there and they made a house semi-underground using sod. That’s what was going for building material. They both lived to be very elderly.
            Samuel begat Ernest. Earnest was born serious. Not much of a sense of humor in that boy. But he also had the westward bug. By then it was a Hiram dynasty tradition to keep heading west. Therefore, he left his parents and sibs and traveled to the desert lands. He stayed there for a few years, but thought there had to be more, so he kept going always westward. In the scablands of eastern Washington he met a young thing who also liked to travel. Her name was Mary Louise. They were both dark furred and taciturn, but not with each other.
            They walked and walked. Over the great mountain range they walked, through snow, fog and rain, coming at last to the great forest of the Pacific Northwest. This seemed good to them, and besides Puget Sound was there and beyond that, the ocean, so they had to stop.
            The hunting and fishing were good. The climate was mild, if a little boring. The local Natives were broadminded about Cryptids and didn’t chase them around like the later European descendants were prone to doing.
            Earnest and Mary Louise had eight children, but the first was Ralph. He was a fine fellow from the start and destined for greatness.  Anyone could have seen it. He almost had a star on his forehead, it was so obvious.
            And there history meets the story of Ralph, the king of the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest.
            And every word is as true as the writer knows how to make it!

It's mostly pertinent!

The Fateful Pre-Thanksgiving Open Thread

    Ralph wants us all to just chill and take it easy. He says this is supposed to be fun! Doggone it!

     He also knows that you have a lot to do today, so he won't take up your time with a lot of story telling, or other foofaraw.

    By the way, the painting does not depict Ralph. That is his great-great-grandpa, Hiram.

    We shall probably never know how the family ended up in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest anyhow. Or, maybe we will sometime.

Contact

 

Lorenzo's might be right around the corner.

          By the time Mike and Lily got back to Luminous, Lorenzo’s was closed for the night. So, since he slept at the ranch house he rode on back there. Maria had taken to closing at 6:00 PM instead of 8:00 PM. Maybe she did need some help running the place.

 
            I woke with a start! I was a little cold. The AC had run all night. I had, apparently, slept like the dead. It was 8:00 AM. Time to get moving. I really wanted some coffee, but there was no coffee in this motel room. If I stayed here more than a few days I had better get a coffee machine of some sort.
            I got up and peeked out of my door again. Another sunny day. There was no one out there. All of the cars which had been parked there last night were gone now. I supposed I should say hi to Toni and talk about tidying up my room. I thought I would ask her to let it go for a few days. I missed the rain and coolness of up north. A gray morning was always a gentle start to the day. This was a different world altogether. Brash and sudden.
            After a quick shower, I fished a short sleeved top out of my big bag, and a clean pair of lightweight pants. I put my long hair into a serious looking bun and did a quick makeup, easy on the glam eyes. I wore my only shoes, the tennies. I figured I looked about right for a country waitress.
            I thought about checking my laptop but decided against it. I stuffed my small bag under the bed, from some atavistic instinct of concealment. If I had dared, I would have brought my phone with it’s load of photos with me. It was hard to decide which was safer.
            Thoughts of Levi and my children tore my heart. Somehow I had to get back to them, but I didn’t know how yet. My job didn’t concern me. That was over for sure.
            I drank some water and ate a handful of almonds. I was ready.
            At the motel office, I tried not to startle Toni again.
            “Oh, hello, Mrs. Renton,” she said with a little smile, laying her phone down. “How was everything?”’           
            “Good morning, Toni. Everything was clean and nice. You do a good job around here. I just wanted to say you don’t need to do my room this week.  I won’t make a big mess, and I don’t need you to make up my bed for me.
            “I’ll be at Lorenzo’s. Maria said she could use some help, so I’m going to be there helping, unless I’m a total failure!”
            “Whatever you say, Mrs. Renton!” said Toni.
            “Call me Jenae, if you like,” I said, while exiting out into that morning light. I wondered why I had gone to Texas without my sunglasses. Another thing to buy.
            Through the window, I saw that she was already busy with her phone again.
            I walked the already familiar three blocks, one over and two up. There were two cars at the gas station. First signs of life besides Toni.
            It was 9:00 AM.
            In Lorenzo’s four of the six tables were occupied. More ranchers, and a couple, who looked like their version of townies. No one seemed to be very interested in my alien self. Good. I must have dressed about right.
            Maria popped out of the kitchen and called me back. She was happy to see me arrive early. She showed me where everything was and handed me my own white apron.
            “Like some breakfast first?” said Maria, and I agreed on eggs, scrambled, toast and coffee thankfully. I stood around in the kitchen eating and talking with her. By the time the second cup of not very special coffee was gone, it was 10:00 AM. I headed out to the dining area with some apprehension. The fact of the matter was that I had never been a waitress in my whole life. But I thought I could pull it off.
            Everyone had eaten and gone.  I carried in their dishes and wiped down the tables. So far, OK. If it stayed like this, I thought that I would end up washing dishes also.
            The doorbell rang, and Lucy Phillips walked into the room, alone this time. John must be in school I thought. She was in jeans this time. She didn’t look nearly so cheerful without the child. She looked at me with amazement.
            “Jenae?” she said. “You look completely different. Are you in disguise?” she laughed.
            “A girl’s gotta bring in some money somehow, Lucy,” I offered. “What can we get you?”
            She wanted pancakes and sausages and coffee. I wondered if her kitchen was being remodeled, or if she was just bored. Why did a professional rancher’s wife need to be in town so much. I was overthinking Lucy too.  Maybe she was here to pick up the kid after school, after visiting her brother.  Who knew?
            She said, “Thanks, Jenae,” when she was done and left me a two dollar tip. My first money earned in Texas! Amazing. I cleaned off her table.  Maria seemed content. The morning and afternoon passed calmly. No big rush, but never empty either. I got a few more tips. Most people walked up and paid Maria, as they were accustomed to.
            I saw a dark green Land Rover park on the street. That stood out. It didn’t look like it belonged here to me. A long legged character in a black western hat unwound himself from the driver’s seat. It was Flores. Great. I wondered if he had phoned in another order like yesterday.
            The bell rang and he stepped into the room. He stood there for a minute, then smiled!
            “Hello, Ma’am,” he said, perfectly nicely.
            My head was spinning a little. What did it mean?
            “Hello,” I said. “Picking up or staying?”
            “I’ll be staying. Need a burger and a Coke. Real bad!” he said as he took a seat. “I’ll buy you a Coke and whatever, wouldn’t mind somebody to talk to during lunch?” He put his hat on one of the empty chairs, next to him.
            So, what could I do? I went back to the kitchen and told Maria to make two of their burgers and collected two glasses of their best Coca Cola like the agreeable girl I am. I brought the Cokes out and took a seat across from Flores and looked at him sitting there smiling. I didn’t know what I had done wrong the day before, but it seemed to be gone.
             Maria carried our burgers out. She didn’t say one word.
            “Sorry I scowled at you yesterday. I was in a foul mood,” he said as an introduction.
            “Forgiven,” I said. “My name is Jenae. Maria is letting me try to be a waitress.”
            “I’m Mike. Funny name for a vaquero, but there it is. Mama is Anglo.”
            “How do you like Luminous, Jenae?” he asked, as if it really mattered.
            “It’s a strangely beautiful place. I’ve never been in Texas before. But I got here as quick as I could, like the song says,” said I. “I’m from the dim and moist north.”
            Mike laughed. “Yeah, you don’t have a tan,” he said.
            He looked around the room as if thinking of what to say next. He worked on his burger for a couple of minutes, so I nibbled at mine too.
            “Are you running from something, Jenae”” he asked very quietly.
            I stared into those dark eyes for a second, wondering how to judge this question. I decided to take a chance.
            Then, “Yes,” I said just as quietly. “How did you know?”
            “Mostly a matter of timing,” he said. “We were expecting a woman to show up here, possibly, if she had the sense to.”
            “Who is ‘we’,” I countered.
            “Someone you need to meet,” Mike answered.
            I prayed that this was right.
            Whispering again,  he said, “How about I come by No. 7 when you’re done here tonight? We can grab your stuff, just in case you like where we’re going and decide to stay.”
            I nodded. “Okay.”
            We finished eating. I cleaned off our table, taking the plates and glasses back into the kitchen.
            Maria looked at me seriously and kindly. She said, “You did fine. But I’m not stupid, Jenae. I think you have other business in Luminous than working for me at Lorenzo’s. If this is not so, come back tomorrow more like 8:00 AM. Your call.”
            I thanked her, and gave her a quick hug, and ran so she couldn’t see me crying.
 
            As arranged, the green Land Rover appeared at about 7:00 PM. Mike had given me time to gather my stuff and my wits. I didn’t mention moving out to Toni, because I didn’t know what I was facing. I could be back.
            He put my bags in the back seat. I hopped into the passenger seat and we pulled out onto the highway and headed out of town.

The Doctor And The Ranch Hand

 

A Bit of Overlap From Yesterday

            As I leaned there, in relative darkness, I began to hear slow hoofbeats. I waited, watching. I saw a man on horseback riding down Minor Ave, toward the upper end of town. He looked, in the dark, much like Flores from Lorenzo’s café.
            I wondered why he was riding here after dark. It seemed odd, out of place. But I had to admit that really I had no idea.  Maybe it wasn’t odd at all. Maybe cowboys rode home down Minor Ave. after dark all the time.
            I went indoors, locked the door, and got into bed. It sounds like nothing. But it was a monumental disruption. I must admit that I wept.

🤍

 
            When Jenae’s tears dried, and she slept, the night went on without her. The sky turned in its apparently slow way. She tossed in her sleep, first on one side, then the other. The cheap wall clock ticked. The AC breathed.
            Outside, in the very early hours, an impossibility entered the grounds of the Desert Rest motel. It was nearly black in color, about the size of an RV, but flattened and rounded. It levitated a few feet off of the ground. Dull light showed in a few openings. It hesitated for a few seconds before the door of No. 7.
            Then obscurely, secretly, silently, it ghosted to the highway, passing out of town.

    A pair of coyotes standing on the highway in town watched it go.

    

Maybe a little like this one.

    
 
 
 
            It was a ranch house like thousands of others. Low, built for shade, with a large covered porch wrapped around the outside. It sat alone surrounded by many acres of rough pasturage. A few cattle ranged sleepily in the distance. The house lay dreaming in the brilliant light from the nearest star.
            A rider approached on a spotted mare. He wouldn’t have stood out in any way around Luminous. He was dark, dressed in work clothing. His long dark hair was pulled back in one of those ponytails that men do with their hair. His hat was black. He looked to be a ranch hand. When he reached the porch, he dismounted and tied the horse to the railing there, loosely. She wasn’t the type to wander off. She stood patiently beside the cacti. Sweet Lily.
            A closer look would have revealed the rider to be Mike Flores. Half Anglo, half Mexican, though the Anglo half didn’t show.
            Mike walked up the two steps to the shady porch, knocked once, and walked into the house. The large wood paneled living room was dim, cool, and empty. He kept walking toward a hall at the back of the room. At the end of the hall, right side, there was a closed door. He opened it and descended a staircase, which opened into a room that was completely out of character with the house and everything around it. No timbers, no rugs, no Indian artwork, all business.
            The doctor sat at a large desk staring at an oversized monitor screen. He looked up for a moment, and said, “Hi Mike, have a seat.”
            Mike dragged a chair to the area in front of the desk, sat, and put his black hat on the floor at his right side. He waited quietly.
            At last the doctor focused on Mike. “Have you seen anyone in town who looked like the woman we’re waiting for?”
            “Maybe. I saw some fortyish out of town mamacita type in Lorenzo’s chatting up Lucy Phillips. Lucy didn’t see me. I waited until she and that kid she always drags around got into their pickup and took off. Could be her. She sure didn’t fit in around here,” said Mike.
            “Someone is staying at the Desert Rose, someone without a car. Pretty sure it’s her. She was sky gazing out the door of No. 7 last night. She bugged me. She looked at me like I was a museum exhibit, and not a very good one,” he added.
            “City people look hard, Mike, I don’t think it means much,” said the doctor. “Eyes down is a country thing. Or an indigenous thing maybe.”
            “If you say so, Doc,” Mike nodded. “But, yeah, she really stuck out in Lorenzo’s.”
            “We have another situation, unfortunately. Roberts is dead. He messed up somehow. The penny ante coroner out there said it was suicide,” the doctor said dryly.
            “Ellis?”
            “Yeah, Ellis. He got out one message about our girl with the photos. Then nada. No more,” said the doctor. “He was shown the security footage.”
            “Damn it Doc, they don’t mess around do they?” whispered Mike.
            “No. They don’t. I want those photos, Mike. The whole world needs those photos!”
            “Hm. I made a face at her in the café, Doc. But I can try to make nice. Most ladies like me if I act house broken.” Mike grinned, a bit wickedly.
            “All business, Mike. See if you can make peace. That lady has witnessed things that even I haven’t seen!” said the doctor urgently.
            “There’s only one place to eat around here, Doc. I’ll haunt Lorenzo’s until I catch up with her. First thing on my agenda. Then I will shelter her like a lamb.  I bet she is totally freaked out,” said Mike.
            “Try to stay out of Lucy Phillip’s way,” said the doctor. “I’m not sure of her intentions, but she is bloody snoopy! It was probably the other way around; she was probably chatting up our lady in the café!”
            Mike picked up his hat and stuck it back on his head.
            “You got it, Doc!” said Mike, and he walked back up the stairs and out into the light.
            Before riding back into town, he got Lily a bucket of water.

Why Luminous

 

Maybe No.7 is a little like this room.

            Back in good old No.7, I put my shopping on the table and looked around. Everything looked exactly as I had left it. Toni hadn’t been in here doing research, or she was a lot slicker than I thought she was.
            I had reason to be antsy.
            I thought about home. Levi, David and Laura. For their sake, better that I had vanished without a trace. I could imagine the writeups. The futile searches. The confusion of it all. 43 year old wife and mother inexplicably gone.
            I wished I knew why Toni had looked frightened when I came through the door. The trouble with this kind of escapade, as if I knew, is that it leads to overthinking every little thing, and even paranoia. I probably just surprised the sleepy girl…but what was she looking at on her phone? Maybe reports from up north?
            I made a mental note to change my appearance.
            I thought about my phone, offline for real.
            Until a week ago, I had been working in that great huge building in my home town, where aircraft are built and finished and flown away to go to work. I was a low level facilitator. I pushed paper and did some secretarial stuff for a supervisor. Ellis Roberts. That’s the guy. Maybe he really didn’t know any better.
            Here, where I sat, I needed two very basic things. A source of income that didn’t appear anywhere officially. Pretty sure Maria would pay me cash under the table. It’s a way of life. And, I needed obscurity and shelter. I needed time also, to make contact with who or what I had no idea, but I thought my old boss, who got me into this mess did know. I could only pray that I wasn't running on fumes of delusion.
            A lot of walking was required to do my job.  I ran things around, sneaker net style. I’m the girl who got things signed. Some people at the plant with further to go rode bicycles. Really. The place is that big!
            Back to Ellis. One day he told me I could cut through a certain locked hangar because he had a key I could use. I think he might  have been showing off. Nevertheless, I used his key, looking for a shortcut.
            When I saw the interior of this locked hangar, I realized that my life had changed forever, if anyone who mattered realized I had seen what they had in there. The rest of the story is that I took a hundred photos. Maybe I thought they would be some kind of leverage.
            I took the long way around to get back to Ellis and give him back his key. He looked more than a little wild when I got there. He jumped up and closed his office door and turned to face me. My boss looked terrified. His amiable round face was pink and contorted.
            “Jenae, I just ruined your life. They have you on security,” he said. “I don’t know what they’ll do to you. I don’t know what they’ll do to me. You can’t wait even a minute. If you really want to live, just leave. Vanish completely, God, I’m sorry, but that doesn’t do any good does it,” he was near tears. He said one strange word, as I turned to go. “Luminous.”
            No one was home the last time I saw the place. It was midday. I took 5000.00 out of our cash stash leaving 4000.00 approximately. He would understand that something had happened and wouldn’t tell a soul. Under the remaining cash in the safe behind the bedroom dresser, I left a sticky note saying, “if I can, I will come back.”
            Right before I left I looked up Luminous. There was a town called that in western Texas. What else did I have to go on?
            I packed the two bags, made sure that my phone with its appalling load of photos was incommunicado in its Faraday bag, and I walked to the Greyhound station with tears in my eyes. But they were invisible tears because a persistent chilly rain was falling. I bought my ticket with twenties.
            Though I had the photos and my own memory, the contents of that locked building seemed like an illusion. Impossible mechanisms sheltered there, materializations of the visions and obsessions of mankind since recorded words began. I had stood there with mouth open in the dim light, looking at these things before I started recording.
            So, here I was in limbo, in No.7, expecting to go to work for Maria tomorrow.
            I showered. Lots of hot water was nice. Got into my jammies. Drank some water, ate some chips and the chocolate bar.
            I switched on the TV, laughed and switched it back off.  How do people manage to watch that stuff? I wondered what signal was available in Luminous, but didn’t explore the subject.
            Since there wasn’t much to do and I wasn’t quite ready to try to sleep here in this strange place, I decided to just take a look outside. I turned down the light and stepped out. The sky was like nothing I had ever seen before. It burned, displaying a billion suns in unthinkable depth. I gasped and burst into tears. At home the clouds would be covering it all.
            As I leaned there, in relative darkness, I began to hear slow hoofbeats. I waited, watching. I saw a man on horseback riding down Minor Ave, toward the upper end of town. He looked, in the dark, much like Flores from Lorenzo’s café.

           

There Was A Phone Book

 

            Under the phone on the table I found a thin phone book. Just a pamphlet really. It had been years since I had held a phone book. I flipped the pages. Quite a novelty. There were even some ads. Farm supply places. A clinic. A tavern. A café. Hm.
            I had my own phone, but the little snitch was zipped firmly into a Farraday bag, made by yours truly.
            It was getting a little hungry out. I didn’t see an ad for a grocery store, but there was the café. Lorenzo’s was a couple blocks further down the highway.
            I stuffed my wallet in my jeans, leaving the rest of my stuff in No. 7, and I strolled out into the heat and light. I might have to invest in a hat, I thought, as I locked up the door, and tested the handle. Overhead the locusts rustled slightly in a breeze.
            Luminous was right. The place baked under the naked sun. The air was utterly clear. As I walked the block back to the highway I looked around. If there were over three thousand souls here I wasn’t sure where they were keeping themselves. There must be some residents outside of town. Farm houses for sure.
            If I was going to fade into obscurity here, I needed to find out where everything was.
            The first block; a closed general store on my side. A gas station on the other side. Then there was a movie place, open on weekends, my side of the road.
            In the next block I found Lorenzo’s, open for business. It was flanked by two closed businesses. Across the highway was a pharmacy that appeared to be open. The front of the building was adorned with deep red tiles and there was a planter in front with living flowers in it.
            So, I opened Lorenzo’s door and stepped into a cool, dark room. In a moment I realized that it wasn’t dark, it was just the contrast with the light outside. My eyes began to adjust. I saw six tables, each with a glass containing a few plastic flowers. Two tables were occupied. Closest to the door were two men, probably in their sixties. They looked like farmers, or ranchers to me. The other table, nearer the kitchen, was occupied by a thin woman wearing a cotton sundress with yellow flowers, with what appeared to be her grandson possibly.
            The door had one of those bells on it. When it rang out my arrival, all eyes, including the waitress/maybe cook’s turned toward me. One of the men nodded and smiled briefly, then turned back to his friend and they continued their conversation.
            The thin lady said, “hi, stranger. How did you find us?” Quite the joker. Her grandson, maybe ten years old, giggled.
            “It was hard, but here I am,” said I, glad of any greeting, no matter how odd.
            I took a seat at the table next to them. A short dark haired woman with one of those plain white aprons on, bustled out of the kitchen to hand me a one sheet menu, home printed and covered in a plastic envelope.
            “Take your time, I’ll be back in a minute,” she said and buzzed back into the kitchen.
            “That’s Maria. I’m Lucy, professional rancher’s wife, this is John, my onliest grandson,” said Lucy. She had that kind of slightly weathered look of ladies who live in climates like this and go outside. She looked like she wouldn’t mind talking to a stranger.
            Taking a quick peek at the menu, I saw a smattering of Mexican dishes, and a few things like burgers, and other sandwiches.
            “My name is Jenae,” I said, looking over the menu at Lucy and John.
            “Nice to meet you, what brings you to Luminous, Texas?” said Lucy.
            “Oh, mostly curiosity. I write. Writers are nosy. I thought I’d absorb the atmosphere for a while. I was intrigued by the name,” I said, seeing if she was buying it.
            “Well, Jenae, I don’t know if we have much atmosphere around here, but you are sure welcome to it.” She looked amused. “Me and this feller have to head back to the ranch. Enjoy, Jenae. Maybe there’s more than meets the eye! Hard to say!”
            She yelled, “bye Maria.” They passed out into the light and walked to a pickup parked nearby.
            Maria reappeared at my table and took my order for three lengua tacos and a large Coke. She smiled and said, “good choice.”
            “Hey, is there a grocery around here?” I asked before she vanished again. “Yeah, up at the end of downtown here, is a little place. Almost a grocery store. It’s not much of a hike,” said Maria. “We buy ours from a restaurant supply. They truck it in.”
            The two salt of the earth types, got up. Each put cash on the table, and they split, noting my existence with smiles. I was beginning to really dig Luminous.
            So, it was just me and Maria, in the kitchen assembling my tacos.
            Right about then the bell rang again, and a sort of human bronco appeared. Mixed race ranch hand I would have guessed. He had it all except for the saddle. He moved like a rattler. Sudden.
His bootheels clattered across the linoleum. Hands in his pockets, he hooked a chair out from under the neat little table where Lucy had been sitting with a booted foot, and took a seat.
            He put his hat on the table, glanced around the room, saw my harmless self, his lip curled, his black eyes snapped, and he looked away.
            Maria brought me my tacos. The wild man was there to pick up an order. He paid Maria and took off, as suddenly as he had manifested moments before.
            “Never mind Flores. Most of us are pretty friendly,” said Maria.
            “The tacos were great. Thanks, Maria. Say, um, you don’t need any help around here do you?” I asked her. She gave a serious once over and said, “maybe. What do you want to do, cook or wait tables?”
            “Oh, I’m not a cook, but I’ve done tables before.”
            “I’ll try you,” she said. “If I didn’t have to keep running out here, my life would be a little easier. Come tomorrow at ten? It’s $7.25 an hour and you get your tips.”
            “I’ll be here. I’m staying down around the corner at the motel. I figure my best chance of getting to know Luminous is right here in this room,” I told her.
            “That’s probably exactly right,” she said.
            “Where can I get a hat,” I asked before leaving.
            “Oh, on foot, the drug store has some straw hats,” she said. “No dept stores in Luminous!”
            On the way home I crossed the highway and bought a white straw western hat, and some bottled water, nuts, and chips, and a chocolate bar, dark. They had those.

Getting Lost

 

🌵🌞🌵

           I was a long, very long way from home. Out of the rain.           
            Sunlight beat into the Greyhound window, creating a strange effect. AC behind and heat under the glass.
            Outside, along the freeway, was a low, dry looking landscape, loosely covered with harsh vegetation. Desert tan and blackish green. I didn’t see a single building. Good. I liked it that way. The words of A Horse With No Name were unspooling in my sleepy mind. It had been a long journey.
            The sign said “Luminous”, and the bus turned off onto the two lane asphalt road, with a lurch, like entering another world. Five more miles. Population: 3211.
            This node on the ganglion of the American highway system didn’t even have a one room Greyhound station.  It had a bus stop.
            The bus stopped and a cloud of dust kept on going the same way without us. Auspicious. What did the dust know?
            I was the lone rider getting off in Luminous. I stood, yawned, grabbed my smaller bag and bumped my way down the aisle, excusing myself sotto voce to the shoulders of the passengers I would never see again.
            Outside, the driver, small, dark, Hispanic, opened the hatch on the bottom of the bus and handed me my larger bag. He nodded, said “Ma’am,” and re-boarded his bus. As I stood there, the bus rolled on through town and vanished around a turn in the road.
            I had researched this place. I knew there was a small motel one block off the highway. Shady Rest maybe, or Desert Rose, it didn’t matter. I hoped they weren’t full up. Didn’t seem too likely.
            I wasn’t really dressed for September in Texas at noon. Nights in the bus had actually been cold. So here I was in long sleeves and jeans, starting to feel the heat. I took a quick break to pin my hair up. I hoisted the smaller bag, strap over my shoulder, grabbed the handle of the rolling case and went looking for the motel. Desert Rest? “We’ll see,” I said to myself.

            There are no sidewalks in Luminous. I saw no one on the street as I headed down 1^st, the first side street after the bus stop. It was comprised of packed earth and some gravel with a dusty verge. I pressed on, feeling the heat. Nothing like this temp happened where I was from.
            The next street over was called Minor Ave. OK. Looking to my left, I could see the Shady Rose, shining adobe painted a pinkish tan color in the next block. Onward.
            Cacti plantings crowded the soil in front of the office building. In the large window facing the street, such as it was, was a neon sign blinking “vacancy.” It was the old courtyard style of motel with ten units spaced out in a row. Some deciduous trees which I didn’t recognize cast some shade on most of the units. Hence, Shady Rest.
            I think I frightened the girl behind the desk when I opened the door. Maybe it didn’t happen much. Her nose had been pointed at her phone as she thumbed through shorts. She was Anglo, about 20 years, give or take, and in charge here. A natural blond, but not a beauty.
            “Hello,” I said, “Nice to get in out of the heat!” I parked my bags on the floor beside me.
            “Hi, can I help you,” she delivered her line well enough.
            “I’m looking for a room, maybe for a couple of weeks,” I said.
            “I have five open. I can put you in one under the trees,” said Toni. Her badge said Antonia. She claimed to be Toni.
            “$50.00 per night. We’re not fancy. Just clean. I clean them myself. Your name?” asked Toni.
            “Jenae Renton," I said. I paid in advance for a week in cash. She didn’t know a thing about Renton. She made no comment.
            So, I followed Toni out to number 7, under the tree. She said it was a locust tree, when I asked about it. She handed me one of those old style keys with a plastic doohickey on it with the number 7 stamped in. She opened the door and stood back, letting me pull my case in before she followed.
She marched in and switched on the air.
            I looked around. “It’s perfect Ms. Antonia,” I said. And it was perfect. Very clean obviously. A double bed, Navajo print on the spread. A little Formica table with a phone, two diner style chairs. A little apt size fridge. A TV, just like the old days. Through an open door in the opposite wall I saw a small bathroom with a plain shower, sink and so on. There was a nice desert landscape print over the bed. It smelled dry, with a hint of Fabuloso lavender cleaning liquid. Good girl, Toni.
            She said, “Bye, Mrs. Renton,” and took off.
            I closed the door after her and said out loud, “what a swell place to vanish!” And I meant it!

The Day After Ralph's Interview

 

           It was the day after Ralph’s interview with Millicent.

            She dropped him off at that wide spot on the highway nearest the home clearing. He walked the rest of the way from there.
            There was motion everywhere. The wind was lifting things and peeking under them. Restless. Pushy. Warning. “He who comes after me is greater than I!”           
            Grass and weeds lay down low. Small living things know a thing or two and they know when to go to ground very well. Even the casual birds of the forest were absent. Maeve was nowhere in sight.
            None of this was unobserved by Ralph. The wind lifted his long dark hair, then dropped it again. He read the weather like the famous writing on the wall. He hurried home to Ramona, the kids and the cats.
            They had dinner outside, around the fire as usual. Forest People love fish and Ralph’s family were no different. It was a fish dinner, eaten with the wind playing around their ears. As they finished up, the flames flickered and leaned to leeward. Sparkes flew and danced in the wind.
            Ramona threw the fish bones into the fire and gathered Ooog’s wooden bowls. She stacked them in the cave for later washing, as it didn’t seem like a good time to be washing dishes down at the river with the wind picking up the way it was.
            Twigg became enthralled with the wind’s frolicking and began to dance about with it. Berry and Bob watched and smiled their secret cat smiles.
            Then the rain began to pelt down. Drops like pebbles, cold and sudden. Even Twigg stopped prancing and looked to the sky with his eyes squeezed nearly shut against the raindrops. The cats moved to the door of the cave waiting to be admitted.
            “Mommy,” said Twigg, “are we alright? Is this a storm?”
            “Yes, of course, we’re alright.” said Ramona. “Let’s go inside. It’s getting a little bit too wet out here.” But she knew also, the same as Ralph, that a great storm was coming to the home clearing. She gazed upward, appraisingly.
            She gathered up Cherry, who had begun walking more than floating, and she opened the green door, so cleverly made to fit the opening in the cliff face. She shooed Twigg and the cats indoors. Ralph came behind, turning and giving a last look to all the was familiar and good in the great forest. Then he closed the door.
            Ramona lit one of her homemade candles. Thaga made them of course. One was enough to make the family feel comfortable. They all settled down to sleep with the wind plucking at the door.
            All night the wind tore at the forest. Branches whipped and thrashed. Rain battered the land. Ralph tossed in his sleep and woke from time to time. He listened carefully, wondering what scene would greet them when the daylight came up. He felt, if the truth we known, somewhat buffeted by the outside world. He searched his mind for meaning, but finally let it go. His thoughts were with all the creatures of the forest. He hoped they had found shelter, each in their own way.
            Just before daybreak, he heard a great tearing and falling sound outside. It was still raining hard, so he waited. He closed his eyes and slept a bit longer.
            When he finally woke for the last time that morning, there was an insistent tapping at the door. He got out of the big bed, leaving Ramona and Cherry asleep. He padded to the door, finding that a puddle of water had blown in under the door. When he opened it, there was Maeve standing in the other end of the puddle. She was wet and her feathers were somewhat in disarray.
            “Maeve!” said Ralph, “come in. I’m surprised to see you so early. What’s up?”
            She flew up to his left shoulder and huddled there.
            Finally she said, “that wind blew rain into my nest, then tore some of it down! I came to see if you survived the storm.”
            “Of course we did!  We’re inside the rock. No storm could touch us in here!”
            “Well, it touched the home clearing, Ralph!” she told him. “You ought to go out there and just take a look!”
            So, they went outside to look.
            The scene that greeted them was this:
            The risen sun, just a few degrees over the horizon, lit up a thick bank of fog lying near the ground. It glowed like an airy fire. This vaporous fire crept between the mighty tree trunks and vanished into darkness.
            Then there was water. It dripped heavily and persistently off of every single thing in sight as if the storm had just quit this very minute. It was like the forest took a breath and relaxed.
            The remains of Ramona’s last fire were soaked and black. No spark remained. In fact, the bits of unburnt wood were scattered around between the stone circle and the cave door. The stones remained in position, of course.
            Twigg appeared suddenly beside Ralph and grabbed his hand silently. The puma bros. crept cautiously out, sniffing and staring all around.
            The sun moved higher in the sky.
            It revealed a small rivulet running down toward Ralph’s cedar log.
            One of the smaller firs had been torn loose and was lying across the clearing with the little stream running under it.
            “It doesn’t look too bad, old girl,” Ralph told Maeve. “It’s just water. The forest is still here. You can fix up your nest again or stay here with us!”
            “Wow,” said Ramona, coming up behind everyone else, with Cherry on her hip. “Look at my fire! I’ll have to start the whole thing over again.” She handed Cherry to Ralph and went inside to get her Bic. Soon she was breaking up small sticks and putting little bits of wet bark and needles with the sticks. It was a damp smoky start, but soon a nice bright little fire was burning.
            Things were looking up. Twigg and the cats went to play in the temporary stream, stomping water and yelling. Twigg walked the length of the downed tree, followed by Berry and then Bob, up and down. They would be occupied for some time.
            Still carrying his daughter in his arms, and seeing that everyone was fine at the fire, Ralph decided to go check out his old log, just to make sure everything was okay out there. Maeve rode along. It was a drippy wet walk down the familiar path.
            It was a sodden scene that greeted him.  But everything looked fine. It had been wet out there before, times without number. His stash of beer was just fine. The box of cigars was damp but the cigars inside looked intact.
            Ralph took his accustomed seat and lit one of those cigars with his own Bic. He sat Cherry down beside him on the log, her first time up there, keeping his left arm around her so she couldn’t roll off.
            “Well, Maeve,” he said, “we weathered the storm just great!”
            “Yes, we did,” she agreed.
            “I’ll have to ask Ranger Rick to bring his chainsaw over one of these days and cut up that log. But I’ll let Twigg, and the cats have it for a while.  It will make lots of firewood for Ramona!”
            He was so happy that he sang a cheerful little song, and Cherry joined in with giggles and a word or two.
            It sounded like happy thunder with giggles and some Raven knocks.