TUOYAWON

The moon shone brightly against the somber ..starless sky. Its light pierced through the trees that lined the lonely road. It was early spring, and the leaves had not yet come to the trees. The shadows cast were eerie and unsettling as they rushed toward her, resembling long knurled witch’s fingers, grasping and clutching at Chrissy’s car.

The swamp residents had awakened, and their chirps and croaks echoed through the warm spring night. The sweet smell of new growth and marsh flowers wafted in the air. The scent of early spring, and nature’s rhapsody, would normally invigorate her, but Chrissy’s life had abruptly taken a terrifying turn. She now barely noticed them as she stared unfocused on the road ahead, only paying close attention to her speed. Even though there was no one in sight, she did not want to draw attention to herself - all the time wondering how it had come to this.

With her mind wandering over her former life, the life she led before today, she remembered her times at the family’s lake retreat.

Her parents bought the cottage when she was just three years old. She remembered the kids there, those lifelong friends that she grew up with. Sure, there were friends from school in town, and although they were close, it did not seem that they were as close as those at the lake.

Tommy was the same age as Chrissy. He was the adopted son of a couple two cottages away. Of all her friends, Tommy was the one she was always closest to. Tommy was the one she shared her secrets with. The one she shared her first kiss with.

A reluctant smile came to her as she recalled the times when, each summer, the cottagers would get together and put on a bike derby. All the kids would decorate their bicycles and tricycles… and dress themselves in funny costumes. They would parade up and down the road while the cottagers sat at the road’s edge, judging. The best dressed would win prize bags full of bike trinkets (like streamers, bells, and horns) and candies, lots of candies. It seemed that everyone won a prize bag!

She remembered the times goofing around with the group. Each would try to outdo the other by showing off how they could ride their bikes with great skill. She recalled how her hands-free stunt ended with her taking a header onto the gravel road. Although there were a lot of scrapes and scratches, there was never any real damage, just bruised pride.

Chrissy allowed a light inner snicker, thinking of her thirteenth birthday. What a big event that was! Her mom and dad had put together a weekend camp out party. They invited all her friends from the lake and her friends from town. The small cottage lot was a sea of tents.

She recalled how, when they saw Tommy coming with a pie plate with whipped cream, they all knew the intent was to bathe her face, and how they chased her for two blocks before they caught her.

All the fun, all the good times - where did they go? They seemed so long ago.

And then there was Ryan, and a whole new chapter opened in her life.

Chrissy quickly crashed back to the present with the sudden appearance of a coyote dashing across the road. She swerved to the right to miss it, only to find herself skidding on the muddy shoulder. No matter how hard she tried to get her car back onto the road, the mire sucked her closer to the tree line.

After what seemed like twenty minutes of an off-road race in a shopping cart (the reality was probably just a few seconds), her car finally came to a stop, fortunately just before an unpleasant meeting with a large oak tree. Had it been just a week later, the spring thaw may have been further along and given her firmer ground to maneuver.

Chrissy was stuck, alone, and with no idea where she was. And with her daydreaming, she could not even remember if she had seen another car, or even a road sign, for the last hour.

Considering her options, she scanned the desolate road in both directions, determining it would be safer to stay with the car, than walk a road that leads to who knows where, at night with who knows what might be out there.

As she became resigned to sleeping in her car until daylight, her mind wandered back to the first time she met Ryan.

She and her family had just returned from three weeks away at their cottage. They were unpacking the car when she first noticed him. She wondered why this cute guy was sitting on Mr. and Mrs. Norman’s porch next door. Mrs. Norman had been ill for quite a long time, so she deduced he might be someone to help Mr. Norman with the yard work.

The Normans moved into the newly opened subdivision about the same time as Chrissy’s mom and dad. They had two children, twelve-year-old son Howard and ten-year-old daughter Vivian. Mrs. Norman, Marian, was an avid gardener. As Chrissy’s mother had grown up in a garden center atmosphere, they shared the same passion. Her mom and Mrs. Norman would spend the weekends working on landscape designs and coordinating plant products for their new barren lots. The homes of the Normans and Chrissy’s parents soon became the talk of the small subdivision for their beautiful floral displays and shrub arrangements.

Three years after moving into this new home, Chrissy was born. In her very young years, Chrissy was babysat by the Normans’ daughter, Vivian. She clearly recalled how she would stare admiringly at her babysitter and listened as she practiced her singing. A lot of the wonderful songs she sang, she had also written. To this day Chrissy could still, in her mind, hear that voice that was so sweet and smooth. Vivian’s goal in life was to sing professionally, whether as a solo artist or as a lead in a group.

There were times when Chrissy would try to sing along. It was like an angel accompanied by a duck suffering with a bruised foot. No matter how off tune or out of sync Chrissy was, Vivian would always give a hug and say, “What a wonderful job.”

Her brother Howard spent most of his time reading, and whenever Chrissy, as a young child, would visit the Normans next door, Howard would pull out a book and read to her.

Mrs. Norman loved to bake. No matter what the occasion at their home, whether it be a recital by Vivian or a reading by Howard, she would always serve up some of the most delicious treats.

Mr. Norman was the principal at the local school but had retired when Chrissy was about four years old. He was a very kind, warmhearted man who always had a smile and a kind gesture. He would spend most of his spare time in his garage building model airplanes. There were shelves filled with models of every size and shape as well as several hanging by string from the garage ceiling. Chrissy’s brother Brad could often be found with Mr. Norman. All that time spent with Mr. Norman watching as he constructed the airplanes was probably the inspiration for Brad to want to become a pilot or join the Air Force.

When she was around eleven years old, Chrissy recalled, she was listening to the radio when she heard a familiar voice. That voice was the soloist who had entertained her as a younger child. Vivian had success with one of her songs, and although not world-renowned, over the years she had gained a very large local fan club.

Howard went on to teachers’ college, became a teacher at an elementary school, and was married and with two children of his own.

Mrs. Norman fell ill with what they thought was just the flu, but she continued to become weaker and had remained in that condition for the past six years.

The car was almost unpacked from the three weeks away when Chrissy’s dad called her and her brother together. He then announced, “Breaking but sad news…the Norman’s house that had been for sale? Well, it sold just before we left for the lake. They have now retired to their cottage. The new people are already moved in. The good news is, we have new neighbors to welcome to our area.”

Although curious, Chrissy, being a shy girl, did not want to appear too eager to meet this new neighbor. So, as she made her last trips back and forth from the car to the house, striking all her best poses and being as noisy as she could, she grabbed quick glances of him. He did not even look up as he sat staring at something he was flipping around in his fingers.

After unloading the car, Chrissy’s mother asked her and her younger brother Brad to get cleaned up for supper, advising that she had invited the new neighbors over. This was to welcome them, have a barbecue, and get to know them.

Two hours later, the new neighbors arrived at the door and were introduced.

Presenting a bottle of wine to her mom and dad, they identified Ryan as their fifteen-year-old son.

Chrissy, now thirteen and three-quarters, spent the whole afternoon shyly sneaking glimpses of this cute new neighbor, as he showed her eleven-year-old brother magic tricks with a coin he flipped between his fingers. As the afternoon went on, Chrissy’s impression of Ryan was that although he was cute, he seemed very full of himself, in a quiet way.

Drifting back to the present, Chrissy rolled the windows all the way up. Double-checking the door locks, she reclined the car seat as she prepared to get some sleep.

A sudden banging and shouting shook Chrissy from her sleep!

“Are you okay?” came the shouts from outside the car window. “Can you hear me? Do I need to call for an ambulance?”

Startled and disoriented, she rubbed her eyes as she strained to focus out the window. In the shadow of the moonlight, she could make out the form of a man, and behind him, a car idling on the road.

Nervously, she cracked the window down just an inch, and a voice called out. “I am Reverend Sounders. Can I help you? Do you need an ambulance? Are you okay?”

Chrissy stammered a “Yes, I am fine. I, I’m okay. No ambulance, I’m okay. Just sleeping . . . Wow . . . I’m okay . . . You scared me.”

Reverend Sounders persisted. “Are you alone? Is there anyone gone for help?”

Chrissy thought, Is this safe? Should I say my husband has gone for help? She finally admitted she was alone, hoping she could trust this so-called reverend.

Reverend Sounders offered her a ride to the next town and explained that he was just returning home from a visit with an aged friend who was quite ill.

Reluctantly, Chrissy accepted the offer, and slowly moved to unlock the door of her car.

As Chrissy climbed from her car, the Reverend Sounders took her arm, helping her through the mud to the passenger door of his car. Starting off, he advised that they were about fifteen minutes from the town, and in the morning, he would call the local garage owner at home to have him pick up her car. Meanwhile, he said, he would drop her at the motel in town, and told her to not worry about payment for the room…the owner was a friend and would not charge her, considering her misfortune.

As they drove, Chrissy’s eyes stared out the passenger window while Reverend Sounders flooded the air with questions of where she was going, where she was from, and on and on.

All Chrissy was able to reply was her first name and that she was going to her aunt’s place, stating that she was a bit dizzy from the accident and still quite sleepy.

She knew the aunt part was not true.

Through all the questions and all the time in the car, she avoided any eye contact with the reverend, all the while keeping one hand on the car door handle and the other on the seatbelt latch.

Having endured the longest fifteen-minute drive of her life, they finally pulled up in front of a quaint little eight-unit motel. It would appear that they had arrived in the Swiss Alps. The motel was heavily decorated with gingerbread woodwork. Each unit had its own dormer, with what looked like, in the moonlight, animal carvings in each peak.

Reverend Sounders approached the main office and pushed a button beside the door. Within a couple minutes a woman opened the inner door and with a large smile greeted the reverend.

Chrissy could not hear the conversation, but the pointing to the car and the smiles and nodding led to the reverend coming back with a key to unit 3.

Grabbing the backpack that she had taken from her car, Chrissy walked with Reverend Sounders to the unit. He confirmed that for sure there would not be a charge for the room. After taking the key and thanking him, she unlocked the door. Entering, Chrissy switched on the light to a very clean, well-appointed but small room.

Attaching the safety chain on the closed door, she dropped the backpack to the floor.

Stumbling forward while kicking off her shoes, she fell facedown across the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief and escape.

It was only a few seconds before she was sound asleep.

The sunlight washed the room with warmth through the closed drapes as Chrissy awoke.

Looking around, she pieced together the events of the previous day. The circumstances that demanded the sudden need to flee. The accident, Reverend Sounders, and how she got to the room. Even though the room was warm and the bed a well-needed comfort, she felt the best move she could think of was to get her car and get back on the road.

After having a quick shower and cleaning her shoes and clothes of dried mud, she grabbed her backpack and returned the key to the office.

The young boy at the office pointed Chrissy in the direction of the local garage as he explained that there was only one garage in town, and he wished her a wonderful day. The garage was only a couple blocks away.

The sun was warm, and the smell of spring hung in the air. But Chrissy barely noticed as she walked head down, only giving a shallow nod as people wished her a good morning.

As she approached the garage office, Chrissy heard a voice call out, “Good morning! Are you the lady that owns this car?” Looking in the open bay door, she saw a man in his forties beneath her car on the hoist.

She nodded.

“I’m Matthew. Everyone calls me M and M - you know, for Mat the Mechanic. You have quite a mess here,” he explained as he grabbed handfuls of mud from the car’s undercarriage. “I already see one wheel is turned in, and I won’t know how much damage is done ’til this is all cleaned up. You may as well go over to Debbie’s Diner ’til I know, and come back in about an hour and a half.”

Chrissy turned and looked across the street and three doors down to see the diner. She didn’t want to show her face around town, but as she had not eaten for a day, she felt she would grab something quick.

Entering the small diner, she was met with a smile and a warm greeting from a grandmotherly-looking waitress behind the counter. “Just grab a seat anywhere honey,” the waitress sang out.

Looking around, Chrissy chose a table in the back corner. The diner reminded her of what she saw in old movies. Six tables with bright red-and-white checker tablecloths were down the left wall. Each had bright-red leather benches. And centered on each table, against the wall, was a remote selector for the jukebox. The main jukebox itself was against the back wall between the tables and the counter.

The counter had approximately twelve chrome stools with red padded leather seats. It ran front to back to the right of where she stood in the entrance door. Behind the counter was a serving aisle and a mirrored wall with the soda fountain and milkshake machines flanking the kitchen pass-through.

There were only two elderly ladies, a middle-aged couple, and one other man in the restaurant. Although they all smiled and voiced a greeting, Chrissy kept her head down, returning the greeting with only a nod and an awkward smile as she passed where they sat.

Seated slammed against the wall as if to melt into the floral wallpaper and facing the door, she slouched low.

The waitress delivered a glass of water and a menu and started to recite, “Good morning, I’m Liz, and today’s special…”, when Chrissy interjected, “May I please have a veggie omelet and tea with lemon?”

“Of course, honey,” came the reply. “You must be the young lady the old reverend Sounders rescued last night. He was in here an hour ago and told us all about you. I’ll get your order and be back in two shakes.”

When first entering the diner and seeing the waitress, Chrissy had a feeling she knew her from somewhere. It must be that the waitress reminded her of her own grandmother. Her mother’s mom and dad had both passed away by the time she was eight, and her dad’s father a couple years later. Her dad’s mother - Granny, as she called her - was someone very special in Chrissy’s life.