Out Of This World

by Annette Mori

  I popped my head out of my bedroom. “Sorry, Mom, I overslept. You and Dad go on without me and I’ll catch up with you at the café after church.”

  My mom scrunched up her face in what I call her disapproving mug. “Mabel, that’s the third time this year you’ve missed church. What in the world can you be doing so late at night that you can’t get up for church in the morning?” She started to crane her neck around my living room.

  My mom never really snooped in my house, and so as long as my books were safely placed in my bookshelf, she wasn’t aware of my reading preferences. Today, unfortunately, several erotica books were littered on the coffee table from the time Celeste had perused them. Both the Fire and Desert Hearts DVDs were also prominently displayed for anyone to see. I panicked and ran out to head off my mom from scrutinizing the items in my living room.

  I decided I needed to distract her before she either found those incriminating items or Celeste decided to make her presence known. “Mom, you need to hurry if you’re going to make it on time. You know how Dad hates to be late. I promise to meet you for breakfast.”

  She grunted, but left without saying anything more. Thank God for small miracles.

  I rushed back into my bedroom. “Celeste, we need to hurry and get ready to join my parents for breakfast. I’m so sorry, but it’s a Sunday ritual that I can’t wiggle out of. My mom is the nosiest person on the planet, and I’ve never introduced her to anyone but Sydney, so I’m not really sure how I’ll explain your presence today. I’ll have to think of something.”

  I was opening my dresser drawers and pulling out clothes like a madwoman. I stopped suddenly and blanched at a thought of my family meeting Celeste.

  “You can’t tell her about yourself. I don’t think it would go over too well with her. I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you please limit your questions today in front of my parents.”

  She nodded at me and took a second to touch my arm. I think she knew I needed her calming touch. I was getting addicted to that energy transfer that left me feeling warm and cozy.

  “Shall I put on any specific type of clothing?” she asked.

  “Any of the outfits you bought yesterday will be fine.” I grabbed a new towel and shoved it into her hands along with her toothbrush.

  “Do you wish me to use the rain machine again and brush my teeth?” she asked.

  “Yeah, most people take showers daily and brush their teeth both at night and in the morning. I’ll take my shower after you’re done.”

  †

  The Cottage Café was the place to be on Sunday mornings. Roslyn didn’t have any good places for breakfast, so everyone tended to drive to Cle Elum on Sundays. I think nearly the whole town eventually made their way there after church. We arrived a little before ten thirty, which was a blessing because then we could grab a table before the rush. On most Sundays we would patiently wait a minimum of an hour for an open spot. I knew that when I missed church my dad was secretly grateful because he wouldn’t have to linger in the front of the restaurant. My dad wasn’t the most patient man in the world. He was always Mister Cranky Pants on church day.

  I still hadn’t come up with a plausible explanation for why Celeste was joining us for breakfast. I didn’t want to lie to my parents so I thought the less I said the better. Sometimes my introversion worked in my favor. I never really offered up that much about my life or myself, which is why my mom was constantly giving me the third degree. I knew it was rude but sometimes I just wouldn’t answer her when she asked a question. Eventually she gave up and stopped asking me things. She liked to talk, or rather gossip, about everyone in town and that was just fine with me.

  When I glanced over at the table next to the pie display, I noticed that a strange man was sitting with Sydney and Hollie. I didn’t see his face at first, but from the back he looked stiff like some kind of government representative. I could tell that his hair had a military type of buzz cut. I saw Hollie whisper in his ear and she seemed to be flirting with him. She was sitting next to him and Sydney appeared oblivious to her disgusting display of seduction. I scowled in response to the exhibition. I’d heard that Hollie was bisexual, and she and Sydney had an on-again off-again relationship with her need to routinely explore her attraction to men. I hated every time Sydney took her back after one of her diversions to the dark side.

  I felt a shiver and focused back on Celeste who seemed to stiffen as her gaze fell on the man. Before I could stop her, she abruptly left the restaurant. I wanted to go after her, but Sydney saw me and waved me over. I didn’t know what to do so I thought I could say hello to Sydney and then make a quick exit to find out where Celeste disappeared.

  “Hey, Sydney.”

  “Hi Mabs. Wasn’t that Celeste with you? Why’d she leave?” Sydney had an uncharacteristically sheepish look when she asked me about Celeste.

  The man turned around and burrowed his eyes at me.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just about to find out when you waved me over.”

  Hollie turned completely around and smirked. “Your friend, Celeste, is a total nut case. I knew something had to be wrong with her to hang out with you. Her family hired Greg here to find her. The wacko left after the mandatory three-day hold.”

  Sydney glared at Hollie. “Shut up, Hollie. Mabs, I’m sorry. It sounds like Celeste may need some help. Her family is really worried about her. She’s delusional and thinks she’s from another planet and that people are out to get her. You should probably try to convince her to go with Greg and get back on her meds.”

  At this point I was torn. Of course it all made sense now since beautiful women never gave me the time of day, but something niggled at my subconscious. On the one hand, it would explain a lot about her quirkiness and it was a credible explanation of her strange behavior, but on the other hand, something told me that Greg was not who he claimed to be. I really wanted to believe Celeste, even if that meant that I was not firing on all four cylinders.

  Regardless of this new information and even if Celeste did have a mental health condition, I wasn’t about to hand her over to this guy who may or may not have her best interest at heart. I already cared about Celeste and she sure didn’t appear to be a threat to herself or others. So if she wanted to check herself out of the hospital, I thought we ought to honor her wishes. Besides, how could I explain the purple light and how she made me feel every time she touched my arm? In the back of my mind, I still had some doubts about this new version of the truth. I didn’t know what to believe.

  “She’s a grown woman and, if she isn’t harming anyone, I don’t think Greg here has any right to take her anywhere she doesn’t want to go.” I felt my chin jut out as I made this bold proclamation that was so out of character for me. I never got involved in anyone else’s drama.

  “She’s a paranoid schizophrenic who does have violent tendencies if provoked, especially if you challenge her delusions.” Greg said. “Why don’t you tell me where you live and I’ll bring her back to the hospital where she’ll get the medical attention she needs.”

  At least Hollie hadn’t spilled those beans yet. Thank God for small miracles, but it was only a matter of time before she would provide him with all the information he would need to take her against her will. I needed to buy some time, find Celeste, and figure out what to do.

  “Can I see some kind of identification?” I asked.

  Greg visibly bristled at my request. “I didn’t bring my business card with me, but I have it back at the hotel.”

  “How convenient. How about you give me the phone number for her parents so I can confirm your story.”

  Sydney quirked her head. I surmised that she hadn’t thought to check this guy out.

  “This is a very private matter for them and they don’t wish to involve others to the point of making this more public than it needs to be, so I’m afraid I cannot divulge their identity. Celeste comes from a prominent family who wish to remain anonymous,” Greg explained.


  I didn’t like this one bit. Sure, it seemed to fit with that big wad of cash she carried around, but something stunk more than a dead skunk. Every hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. Something was definitely amiss. I had a negative reaction to Greg and I trusted my gut on this. I tried hard to telegraph this to Sydney. If I had any chance of helping Celeste out, I needed her on my side because Sydney was my only chance at controlling Hollie’s inner bitch. I knew the minute I left the restaurant, Hollie would be eager to reveal everything about me.

  “Well I doubt that Celeste is going to hang around now that she saw you, Greg. Maybe she’s schizophrenic and maybe she’s not, but I’ll bet she’s smart enough to disappear. I doubt that she’ll find her way back to my house. I’ll look for her, but I can’t promise you anything. Sydney, can you please tell my mom and dad that I had an emergency.”

  Greg narrowed his eyes and glared at me. He couldn’t easily follow me without making a scene because he was wedged against the wall. No doubt he would bide his time and wait for the right moment to continue his quest. Cle Elum and Roslyn are tiny towns so it wouldn’t take him long to track her down if he really wanted to.

  I couldn’t wait to make my escape. Just being in Greg’s general vicinity made me want to take a shower. “I’ll go see if I can find her and let you know,” I told them before I ran out of the café in search of Celeste.

  †

  I looked all around, but there was no trace of Celeste anywhere. I saw my dad’s car turn the corner and knew that if I didn’t vamoose quickly I’d be stuck having breakfast with my parents. Shit, where are you Celeste?

  I ducked around the corner hoping that I might find her there, but at the very least, I needed to avoid a confrontation with my parents. I walked quickly around the block and waited until I knew it was safe to go to my car. My dad would be pissed that I hadn’t stayed and gotten a table. My parents weren’t the only ones parking their cars and entering the café. The Cottage Café was starting to get crowded and that was a very good thing because it would aid my rapid escape. I was hoping that Celeste would find her way back to my house and we could figure this mess out together.

  I reached for the handle of my car door and felt her presence glide behind me. When I turned around, the frightened look she gave me was all it took for me to shove her in my car and screech off for parts unknown. I just drove because I wanted us to be as far away from Cle Elum as possible. Seattle was a big city—surely we could get lost there.

  “Celeste, you got some ‘splainin to do.” I tried to joke using my best Ricky Ricardo imitation. I loved the show, I Love Lucy.

  She tilted her head. Why did I think she would get that reference?

  “Sorry, I just meant that you left in a hurry without explanation, and I just had a very interesting conversation with Sydney, Hollie, and some guy named Greg. Tell me you don’t know that scary dude,” I implored.

  Celeste looked down.

  My heart dropped to my stomach. I wasn’t going to like whatever explanation she was about to give, but I had to ask. “Celeste, did you check yourself out of the hospital?”

  She nodded.

  I felt sick. What a naïve fool I was. How could I possibly for one minute believe she was some kind of alien from outer space? For one glorious night I felt worthy, maybe even a little bit beautiful. Now I just felt defeated. I was confused and couldn’t decide what to do. Celeste looked so forlorn sitting next to me and I honestly had no idea what to do about this tragic woman I had come to care for. If I asked her about it, would I get a straight answer or would her delusions get in the way? Celeste was still a human being and even though I was completely out of my element, I decided, illness be damned, to ask her what she wanted.

  “What do you want to do now?”

  “Please do not take me back to the hospital. They give me chemicals that stifle my energy. I cannot fight back when they inject me,” she responded.

  She looked petrified. I certainly didn’t have the heart to take her back and turn her over to Mr. Slime Bag.

  “Okay, Celeste. Are you up for a little adventure?”

  “Of course. I am here to learn as much as I can. I knew you were the correct choice.” She smiled and appeared to lose her fear.

  “Seattle, here we come. It’s a great city to visit. Consider me your personal tour guide.” I decided it didn’t matter if Celeste was looney tunes. I liked her just the way she was. She was colorful and if she happened to have an overly expansive imagination, well then so be it. Everyone has their little faults. I could do far worse in a friend or a lover. It’s not like I’d had a whole passel of friends to compare her to and I’d definitely never had a lover—so what the hell.

  Celeste touched my arm again and I felt that immediate flood of warmth. I wondered if this is what people experienced when they were falling in love. “Bella, I know you have your doubts about me and I want you to know I understand. Everything will work out as it should. I will not let any harm come to you, I promise.”

  Okay this was an odd thing to say, but then I considered that her paranoia most likely extended to me. At least she was a protective paranoid schizophrenic and so far she’d not done anything remotely aggressive or violent. I shrugged and continued to concentrate on driving to Seattle.

  Seattle is one of the worst cities to navigate because the traffic sucks at all times of the day or night. You’d think that Sunday morning would be clear sailing on the highway into the city, but you would be wrong. Traffic slowed to a whopping thirty-five miles per hour. Either there was an accident or maybe some big event was happening. I didn’t have a social life so I rarely paid attention to the numerous entertainment options the city had to offer.

  Finally, we cruised into the downtown area and I found one of those all day parking lots a couple of blocks from Pike Street Market. I was starving because we hadn’t stayed for breakfast and it had taken us nearly two hours to get to Seattle because of the crappy traffic. We made a beeline to the market because it was one of the best places to graze for a scrumptious meal.

  †

  Pike Street Market is a major tourist attraction and always a flurry of activity regardless of the day of the week, but Sunday was particularly busy.

  Celeste and I got lost in the crowd as I led her to a row of market vendors selling fresh seafood, baked goods, and ethnic specialties from every possible nationality. One of my favorites was a vendor selling chicken gyros. Although fresh fish and Seattle are synonymous, I was hankering for some Greek food and politely declined offers from the fish vendors. I ordered two gyros and a large Greek salad for us to share. I was looking forward to hearing Celeste hum again.

  “Everything smells so wonderful.” Celeste was looking from side to side trying to take in all the activity around her. When she noticed the flower vendor across the way, she made a beeline for the vibrant display. The bouquets presented a visual burst of color and invaded the senses of both sight and smell. It was as if an artist had personally arranged the canvas to heighten our experience. I took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet scent of Asian starburst lilies.

  Celeste stuck her nose inside one of the lilies and the pollen left a large streak of orange all over her face.

  I knew it would be difficult to remove so I giggled at the absurdity of this beautiful woman with a ridiculous smudge on her nose and cheek. She looked like a child who had gotten into something she shouldn’t have.

  I took a napkin and tried to brush it off, but the pollen stubbornly refused my efforts.

  The owner of the gyro stand called out my name to let us know the order was ready. I grabbed Celeste’s hand, led her to an empty table, and then walked over to pick up our order. Placing the gyro in front of Celeste, I dramatically proclaimed, “Your food, m’lady.”

  Celeste giggled and took a nibble of the tasty treat.

  “What is this food?” she asked.

  “It’s Greek food. Greece is this wonderful country by the Mediterranean Sea and th
e gyro is their version of the American hotdog. It’s Greek junk food, except in Greece, they stick French fries in the middle. They don’t make gyros like that here in the US.”

  Celeste just stared at me like I had two heads or something.

  “Oh, you probably want to know what’s inside. It’s basically seasoned chicken with condiments.”

  She took another big bite and mumbled, “I like this gyro.”

  She started humming again and I grinned at her. I was getting used to her eccentricities. Except for the fact that I had to explain a lot of things to her and she insisted she was from another planet, you’d never know she was a nut case.

  We gobbled down the salad and I tossed our garbage in the nearest trash can before venturing out into the rest of the market. On a whim, I stopped at the flower vendor and bought a bouquet of Asian lilies. I figured if Celeste was going to wear their mark of shame, the least I could do was introduce her to the way that the flowers permeate the air and take over whatever enclosed space they end up blessing.

  Our next stop was the famed Pike Place Fish Market where the workers put on a show by throwing fish at each other, joking, and playing with the tourists. There was usually a large crowd around the booth since they have the freshest fish around.

  This company had developed and produced a famous management training video around their propensity to have fun while working. They called it the Fish Philosophy and it was so simple that hordes of major companies began to adopt their four simple principles—be there or be present at work, play and have fun, make their day, and choose your attitude. These guys loved what they did and it showed.

  One of the guys spotted Celeste and pulled her into the show right away. “Hey, what’s your name, pretty lady?” The guy joked while opening and closing the fish’s mouth as if the fish was asking.