by E H Night
Alice returned the smile and offered up a friendly response. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alice. And yeah, sorry if I seem a little skittish. I’m probably just stressed from being in a new place.” She stepped to the side. “Here, come in.”
Tiffany offered a nod and stepped through the door, immediately looking all around. “Wow. It looks the same. The paint is still chipping in the corner, and everything...” she said, allowing her thoughts to trail off.
“Yeah, I’m not sure what happened. The landlord, Roger, said he was going to clean this place up before I got here, but it looks like he never got around to it.”
“That’s Roger for ya. He has the best intentions, but he always forgets to go through with things. You have to nag him to get anything done on time,” Tiffany replied.
“Oh, darn. I wish I’d known that before!” She smiled and looked past the dining area, toward the kitchen. “I didn’t get much from the grocery store, or I’d offer you something to drink.”
“Actually!” Tiffany began. “I brought some things over for you.” She walked into the kitchen, clearly very familiar with the house’s layout, and began unpacking her backpack onto the counter, placing several items down. “I hope you like these. If not, don’t feel obligated to keep them or anything,” she said, ending each sentence with a smirk. “Here! Let’s have some hot cocoa!”
“Wow, you didn’t need to do all of this!” Alice exclaimed. “Thank you so much!”
Tiffany was already rummaging through a cabinet by the time Alice had finished speaking. She grabbed two mugs and began rinsing them out into the sink.
Alice was surprised. “You seem to really know your way around,” she said.
Tiffany filled the mugs with water and placed them into the microwave. She confidently pressed a few buttons, and turned to face Alice once more. “Well, I probably should explain that. Sorry. I didn’t mean to just help myself around your place. It’s habit, I guess.” She opened the box of cocoa and pulled out two packets. “A close friend of mine lived here right before you. We would always come here after our shifts at the restaurant to just relax and hang out together.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Why did she move out? She left so many of her things behind. The cabinets are still full of her dishes and everything.”
Tiffany sighed and tightened her lips for a moment as if she was trying to come up with the right words to say, but a loud series of beeping sounds interrupted her thought process. She walked over the microwave, removed the hot mugs of water, and brought them back to the counter. As she opened the packets of cocoa, she offered up more information. “Sarah didn’t exactly move out. Or maybe she did. No one really knows what happened for sure. She was just gone one day.” Tiffany’s words paused and she poured the packets into each mug.
“Sarah… Hmm...” Alice said slowly, as if trying to recall something. “Wait. Sarah? The one from the Missing Poster at the store?” She spat out in disbelief. “The one on the bulletin board?”
Tiffany weakly nodded, and retrieved a small spoon from a drawer. The clanking of metal against the porcelain caused a vein to throb in her forehead and her pleasant aura dimmed for a brief moment. “I wish I knew what really happened. She wasn’t the type to just run off like that. She would have told me if she had been making plans to leave. We trusted each other with everything, even our darkest secrets.” She stopped stirring the cocoa and scooted one of the mugs toward Alice. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much though. In a small town like this, people tend to get carried away with rumors. One time, half of the population thought the baker in Medley’s was a vampire just because he liked to take walks at night. Sure, he was a little pale, but that’s kind of what happens when you’re inside working all day. He rarely got out to see the sun.” She pushed out a little snorty chortle and took in a slow chocolately sip. Her eyes couldn’t mask the worry though. “I’m sure nothing too crazy is going on. I hope not, anyway.”
A weak smile formed on Alice’s lips, but her eyes reflected Tiffany’s concern. “Yeah, hopefully it’s all just gossip.”
Chapter 2
“Steel Magnolias”
Alice awoke the next morning to hear the sounds of birds chirping. Their high-pitched songs offered up a little hope that the warmth of spring would soon be in the air. She wiped the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hands, and let out a long yawn before sitting upright in her bed. Yesterday’s clothes had been tossed in a messy pile on the floor, and she carelessly added last night’s pajamas on top of them before making her way over to the bathroom.
“Today is going to be a good day,” she assured herself as she turned the handle for the shower. “I was able to get a full night’s sleep this time. What could go wrong?”
The sounds of trapped air escaping from the water pipes hit Alice like a train. Startled, she jumped backward, slipped on the floor mat, and fell against the bathroom cabinet behind her. The impact from the fall caused the clay toothbrush holder to tumble over and shatter onto the tile, sending tiny sharp pieces all around the room. Taking care to avoid stepping on anything dangerous, she stood up and tip-toed out of the bathroom and into the living room. She headed in the direction of the kitchen where she had noticed a broom propped up near the back door over there when she’d first moved her things in. She grabbed it, along with the dustpan, and entered the bathroom once more. As she swept, she noticed a few long brown hairs on the floor beside the cabinet.
“I wonder if these are Sarah’s too,” she thought. “They look like they’re a few inches too long to be mine. They have to be hers, or someone else’s.”
Alice continued sweeping and noticed a much more sizable clump of hair — probably about ten or fifteen strands stuck together, near the hinge of the bathroom door. She bent down and picked the bundle up, dropping the broom down beside her. The hairs had their dried fleshy bulbs still attached at the roots, as if they had been pulled out in one single forceful tug. Alice sprinkled them onto the floor where they dispersed quickly, much like the clay shards had before. She finished sweeping, emptied the dust pan, and finally began her shower. She wasn’t going to let her mind wander again today. She’d spent too much of the previous day wandering around like an anxious mess, and there were too many things left to accomplish. Besides, was a single clump of hair really that much of a concern? As a hairdresser, she’d seen the hinges of curling irons tear ribbons of hair out from people’s scalps many times before. A few stray strands shouldn’t have been much of a concern or surprise, especially in a bathroom.
After her shower, she quickly threw on some clothes, grabbed her black suit jacket, and slid into her favorite pair of bright pink pumps. Despite Jim’s comments about how obvious it was that she was a “city chick”, she felt that it was still important to dress to impress. She’d made plans to find a job, and she knew that her appearance was as important as a portfolio in this situation.
Once her looks were squared away, she headed outside and started the car’s engine. The sounds of Poison escaped from the speakers, and before she even realized it, she was singing along. She breezed through the small streets, only having to pause at a few stop signs, and found herself really admiring the lack of traffic. It was a very huge contrast to the loud horns and red lights that were always all over Parkington in the mornings. In what seemed like no time at all, she wheeled onto Main Street, and Edna’s Salon appeared right in front of her. She turned the music down and quickly pulled into the gravel lot, maneuvering away from the other three cars to park alone.
Alice hurried to the entrance as she nervously fiddled with her loose pearl bracelet. Once in front of the door, she let out a long breath, and stepped inside. Upon first glance, everything looked outdated. The floors were nicked, the once-white floral wallpaper was yellowed from age and tobacco smoke, causing it to lift up and curl at the edges. The only customer might as well have been asleep. Pop music played quietly from the stereo near the bathroom, which was probably just as unexciting to
set eyes upon. As she examined the place further, she realized that there seemed to be a good amount of booths, especially for such a small establishment. She counted six styling chairs, three on one side in front of a long horizontal mirror, three on the other, and four hooded dryers fitted in between. She felt hopeful that the owner would have an empty spot available for her.
Alice walked toward the desk and was greeted in the distance by a small gaunt woman. The woman’s short curled hair was so silver, it almost appeared to be blue. She had on a dark plum shade of lipstick that had been accidentally smudged onto her front tooth, and a full set of bright pink fake nails, which looked a lot like Alice’s.
“Yeah, how can I help you?” the woman’s voice called out as she approached.
“Hi, I was just wondering if you were hiring. I’m certified and have been working in Parkington as a stylist for two years. I just moved to the area yest —”
“Parkington? Why’d you come all the way out here?” the woman interrupted while placing a cigarette in between her lips. She seemed more annoyed than interested.
“Well, my grandmother passed away recently. She always talked about how she loved growing up in this town.” She stopped for a second to collect her emotions. “I figured I’d move here to see what the fuss was about. I don’t have any other family, so —”
“No other family?” the woman interrupted. “Who doesn’t have family? It’s the 80’s. Even that alien… what’s his name… you know the one, from that movie with the bicycle or whatever...”
“Uh, E...T…?” Alice stammered.
“Yeah, even that weird little E.T. guy found a family. What happened to yours?”
“Well, I — I’m not really sure. I was told that my parents passed away in an accident shortly after I was born. It was just my grandmother and me until recently.”
The woman’s cold mannerisms changed and she looked at Alice with apologetic sympathy. She waved a small cloud of smoke away from her face and inquired further, but more politely. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. What was your grandmother’s name? You said she was from Wintersburg? In a town this small, I’m sure I’d know of her.”
“Susan Foster. She said she used to —”
The woman interrupted her again. “Susan! My oh my, you’re Susie’s granddaughter?” She spoke with enough enthusiasm to cause the distant and tired client to look up from her book for a moment. “What happened to her? I mean, I’m sorry. That’s rude of me to ask all of these questions.”
Alice moved her hands back and forth in front of her. “No, no. I understand. She, well, she passed quickly. It was all very sudden.”
The woman seemed satisfied with the vague answer and nodded. “Well, it’s good that she didn’t suffer, then. Susie never was one for lingering.” She straightened her posture, inhaled another puff of smoke, and exhaled it in a long snake-like stream away from Alice. “I’m Edna, by the way. So you’re here for a booth, right?”
“Yeah, if that would be okay. It doesn’t seem like you need much help around here though.” Her voice grew softer as she looked around at the nearly vacant salon.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. It’ll pick up in about an hour. This is the only salon nearby. People flock to it like a confessional, just waiting to talk about whatever happens to be on their hearts each day. You can start today, if you want. Do you already have any supplies with you?”
Alice smiled appreciatively and sat her purse on the counter. “That’d be great! I have everything I need, I think. Thank you so much! Let me just grab some things from the car.”
“Hey — I’m thankful for the help. If you’re anything like your grandma, then I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. Consider this salon to be your new family, dear.”
◆
Tiffany brought out a menu for the lone man sitting in the far corner of the diner. She noticed that he seemed to be either nervous or just plan uncomfortable, and was very adamant about hiding his face from everyone. It was apparent that he was attempting to be casual and subtle about the whole thing, but other customers didn’t usually sit with their heads resting on their hands and their hat bills turned down when simply placing an order for soda. He hadn’t even looked up from the table. The more effort that the man had put into concealing himself, the more curious Tiffany became. She sat the menu down on the table in front of him, and he mumbled a couple words of faux appreciation.
“Thank you.” His voice was a combination of a whisper and a growl, as if a Tom Waits song was about to burst out of his throat at any second.
“Mm-hmm. Just wave me over when you’re ready to order. I’ll be wiping off some of these tables.” Tiffany turned around and walked to a nearby booth. She leaned over it and began cleaning while making sure to maintain a clear shot of the man.“Something’s not right with that one,” she thought. “He’s not even picking up the menu.”
She continued to stare from afar as she wiped the same spot over and over again, not paying attention to anything or anyone except for him. She noticed that he sat very still, almost completely motionless as he sipped from his straw, until he slowly and carefully reached into his leather jacket.
“Wait… What is he doing now?” Tiffany wondered. She stopped wiping the table and blatantly gawked at the man. She watched intently as he pulled out a folded white piece of paper, opened it up, and stared at it for a brief moment before returning it back into his jacket pocket. In one swift motion, he adjusted his sleeves, and raised his hand sheepishly.
Tiffany walked back toward him with hesitancy, and pulled a pen and notepad from her apron. Her hands shook slightly from nervousness. “What did you decided on?” she asked in a friendly tone, trying to maintain her small-town charm.
The man handed the menu back to her. “Just the bill for the drink.”
Tiffany noticed his hands as she grabbed onto the sticky plastic menu. They looked like strong hands, tough hands that had stories to tell. Riddled with cracks, his visible veins traveled across his bones like dry streams. He wore no rings or jewelry, only several large cuts across his fingers and his thumb.
“Yeah, it’ll be just a dollar,” she said while forcing herself to look uninterested. She continued to stare as he reached back into his jacket pocket. Only instead of the white paper that he’d pulled out a moment before, he revealed a small wad of bills and sat two of them onto the table. Tiffany picked them up, nodded, and walked back over to table that she’d been pretending to clean. Her eyes stayed on the man until he eventually got up and left quietly through the front entrance.
“Are you okay, Tiff?” a gentle male voice said from behind her.
Tiffany jumped. “What the hell, Pat? Yeah, I’m fine. Did you — did you see that man?” she said, motioning to the table where he’d been sitting.
“I didn’t pay much attention. What happened?”
“Well, nothing really. He just seemed kind of strange, I guess.”
“Tiff, this is Wintersburg. Everyone who stops through here is strange,” Pat said.
Tiffany’s serious tone faltered and she let out a small breathy chuckle. “You’re right. I probably just read him wrong or something.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Did he tip?”
Tiffany nodded. “Yep, he did.”
“You’re right… He is a weirdo! No one ever tips around here,” he said while faking a frightened expression.
Tiffany smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Geez, stop it. I can’t tell you anything.”
“Whatever. Want to help us clean up a bit? Marcia left the freezer open again and now the chicken tenders are way more tender than they should be.”
“Marcia, Marcia, Marcia,” she said while laughing. “I guess I have no choice, do I?”
◆
Tiffany sat down on the couch in front of her TV and found herself to be extremely fidgety and restless. The restaurant hadn’t been terribly busy that day, but she felt especially drained after finishing her shift. There was a raw feeling in her
gut, an unmistakable sense of dread, and she wasn’t seeming to have any success in distracting herself from it. After repositioning the cushion behind her back several times, she finally succumbed to her restless legs’ wishes, and decided to take a stroll through the town.
She often found the perfect blend of excitement and calmness in her evening walks. The moon and stars chose to illuminate the most unusual things, and she was always keen on exploring what the night sky’s hands held out before her. There was art in the darkness and she was always more than willing to find it. She grabbed a flashlight and a pocket knife from the kitchen drawer, just to be safe, and zipped them both safely into her messenger bag. She walked over to the back door, slid into her white canvas flats as if she was preparing to have them painted by the earth’s mud, and was finally ready to begin her journey. After she had locked the door behind herself, the first breath of fresh air had already started to calm her heart.