The Ostinato Trilogy

The Morning After.

The Morning After.

Leaving the general store, Trevor couldn’t help but take a generous deep breath of air to defog his mind and thoughts. Of course, he was not in the best of shape, so the deep breath turned into a coughing fit. After sounding like he was going to cough up a lung, he felt better, or at least somewhat clearer in thought. He and Grace had discussed so much and so little, he found it difficult wrapping his mind around everything.

Deciding to walk off a little of his buzz, he turned to cross the street, heading towards the bank and Miss Crystal’s rock shop. At first, he was not sure why. Oh hell he knew why, the name drew him. Something about it, he needed to check it out. Even if only by moonlight… and the blinking red light at the intersection. Out of habit, he stopped, checking for traffic both ways at the deserted cross street.

A bit angry with himself, grumbling at his stupidity for checking traffic, he passed the bank and came to Crystal’s little shop. It was hard to miss since there was an obviously new sign hanging over the door. Standing in front of the rock shop window, he squinted to focus his altered vision into the store. Not much inside, did he spy movement… there was something on the floor. He stumbled closer to the window and saw a body lying prone on the floor, feet towards the window. From this angle, it had the recognizable heart-shaped backside of a woman, oh what a heart.

Trying to pull himself away, the shape of the buttocks in those oh-so-tight yoga pants drew him back, like a moth to a flame. He pressed closer to the window, using both his hands to cover the light reflecting from the blinking red light. Feeling like a pervert, he thought, I am going to hell for this. He yearned to study the lithe woman as she moved from prone to downward dog. She’s doing yoga. He took a quick glance at his wristwatch. At three in the morning?

Standing there fixated, he examined her as she moved from one position to another, fluid, unjointed, inhumanly flexible. He felt his body responding to the visual stimulus with a very physical reaction. She turned and glanced towards the window, and for a breath, their eyes met.

Trevor had never been a religious man, but at the second their eyes met, he would have sworn on a stack of Bibles her eyes flashed a bright light. In the darkness of the room, it seemed an almost blinding light.

Out of embarrassment of being caught peeping, or from the shock of the flash of her eyes, Trevor took a dozen staggered steps backward into the street. This should’ve been the time he checked both ways.

On an ordinary morning at three, the road Trevor backpedaled into would be deserted, this was not the case on this fateful morning. He backed into the oncoming path of a cattle hauler returning from market in Abilene.

Trevor regained the presence of mind to stare into the headlights of the eighteen-wheeler and contemplate the impending collision with his body.

The driver had left the highway a few miles back, trying to dodge some construction in a rush to reach home since his wife was expecting their first child. No one would’ve blamed the trucker. Driving the speed limit plus a few in town, he never saw Trevor stumble out into his line of travel. He was adjusting the radio, scanning for his favorite all-night talk program.

Time stopped. Not in that whole life passing before your eyes kind of time stop, but it physically stopped. Far as Trevor was concerned, he was dead.

With the glow of first light visible in the east, Trevor checked his wristwatch: 6:45. With a start, his mind kicked back into gear. Where had the last three-plus hours gone? Even worse, how was he alive? What the hell happened to the truck? Was it all a dream? Was he going mental? The questions raced through his head.

“Where the hell am I?” he asked the universe in general.

He did a quick inventory of his body and possessions: wallet, watch, spectacles, testicles all seemed to be fine. He was now the proud owner of a pounding in his head, like Ringo Starr was trying to learn the drums. The hammering wasn’t too painful, he only wished it would pick a beat and stick to it. Then he looked around for a sign of the dog that obviously crapped in his mouth. It was shaping up to be one of those kinds of hangovers.

He completed a slow turn to gain his bearings and could just identify the bank building sign, glowing in the distance opposite the direction he’d been traveling. At least he wasn’t lost in the desert. He was however lost in time. What happened last night? That thought gave him a start. Was it even last night that it happened?

He started the trek back to town, trying to recall if what he thought happened, in reality, happened after all. Rationalizing while walking, he was pretty wasted when he left the Eddington General Store-s***h-Hotel. Maybe he blacked out and went ‘out there,’ a mile out of town? What about the vision of Crystal’s shop? Did he just hallucinate all of that? The lorry… those eyes?

The closer he got to town the more everything seemed like some waking dream. Approaching Crystal’s, he decided the whole strange morning had been some twisted nightmare. He was trying to innocently stroll past Crystal’s shop, which turned out to be a good thing. At the moment he came parallel with the door, it swung in, and Crystal stepped out. They almost collided.

Trevor recognized the hair at once, it was the woman who witnessed him fall out of the car yesterday afternoon. He managed a weak, “Excuse me,” as they both dodged one another.

With a laugh like wind chimes, she giggled as they danced around one another. “Oh, excuse me,” her melodious voice overlapped him.

Trevor thought to himself, I can’t seem to catch a break. He added out loud, “Good morning.”

Crystal beamed a smile in his direction, “I am just going for a morning run. I see you’re up early as well, walking up an appetite?”

Trevor checked out his clothes, they didn’t appear too rough. Looking back into her eyes, and not her breasts, he tried to take a quick accounting of her. She was either ignoring or choosing not to acknowledge the early morning incident—or scarier, he had dreamt the whole episode. Trevor decided to push it to the back of his mind and tried to play it as cool as possible. Which was hard considering the size of his head.

Taking a step back to give her some room, he swung his arms as if exercising. “Yeah, I always try to get in a good workout before starting the day,” he lied.

“Well, I am off.” She was stretching her arms behind her back, jutting out her ample breasts, but acting like it was nothing.

She started jogging down the street, in the direction Trevor came from. Turning as she jogged, she yelled back, “The store opens at ten. Stop by and see me then.”

He waved and gave her a thumbs-up. “Sure thing!” Far as Trevor was concerned, he counted that a win. Suddenly famished, he gave himself a little smirk as he headed to Juniors and the artery-clogging brekkie he was sure awaited him.

As he approached the corner, Trevor recalled a vague memory of the events from the previous evening with the two curmudgeons. Standing, he studied the only place to order a prepared meal. Torn between the desire to run and hide in the hotel room and never come out again, or go into the joint and face the music.

Putting off the decision he had to make, he inspected the corner where he stood. Examining the four corners of the intersection, he noticed there were no CCTV cameras. Not like London. That would explain the lack of video of the lights that night. It also meant there was no record of what happened to him four hours ago.

Making his decision, he muttered a simple line to himself, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,” and headed across the corner towards Juniors.