Under A Painted Sky (Spirit Warrior Series)

by Jenna Roads

  Wow! And then another. I had three balloons in front of my porch.

  I went back into the bedroom to grab my camera and phone and called my mom from the porch to share my joy. I was taking pictures as we talked.

  “Mom, you are never gonna believe what I am looking at off of my bedroom veranda,” I said.

  “Well, what is it, Isabella, that has you so excited?” she asked.

  “I woke up to this heavy breathing sound and it sounded like it came from the veranda and I looked out and saw a hot air balloon about twenty-five feet away. I put on my robe and went out; it’s just beautiful. There are these great colored balloons. There was one at first then, two more joined it,” I imparted.

  “How wonderful, dear. Carol said that balloons come up almost every day and thought that might cheer you. It sounds like she was right. I wish I were there seeing your face,” Mom said.

  “I wish you were here, too. I know you would love it as well. What a radical surprise this was. I guess I’ll let you go now. I just had to share it with someone. I was about to pee my pants with excitement. I love you,” I said.

  “I love you, too, Isabella. Have a beautiful day, sweetheart,” she said.

  By the time I got off the phone they were gone, drifting off toward the mountain.

  That was so cool! I could wake up to that every day. My neighbor came out on her porch and yelled, “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” I replied back to her.

  She said, “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m Britney.” She looked about my age.

  “Isabella. Good to meet ya,” I said.

  “Good to meet you, too. We see this almost every day when the weather is good, but sometimes there are even more than three balloons.”

  “I would never get tired of this,” I said.

  “Yes, it is pretty amazing.”

  “It was good talking with you. I think I need coffee,” I said as I headed for the door.

  “Yes, we should get together sometime.”

  “That would be great,” I replied as I closed the door. “The land of enchantment.”

  Huh, I was enchanted already.

  I headed for the coffee pot and found everything to make a cup of java, even my most favorite creamer, pumpkin spice. Aah, I needed caffeine to catch up to the exhilaration of my balloon experience. I hardly ever ate breakfast, but I drank my coffee and was good for the morning. I went to the Bose dock where my iPod was plugged in and turned it on, and I heard these lyrics by Train in their song “Drive By”.

  “…’Cause you moved to West L.A. or New York or Santa Fe or wherever to get away from me…”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” I said out loud.

  I drank in the wonderful aroma from my cup of java and glanced over at the time. Wow, I thought I had better get ready because sexy Logan was coming to get me this morning for my tour.

  I headed up the stairs. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, put on my makeup and fixed my hair. Thank goodness for a great hair day. So, what do I wear to go on a tour? I guessed since it was sunny, a sundress would do the trick and sandals. That would be easy.

  I put on a V-neck ocean blue sundress, added a necklace with seashells, and a belt of tiny shells. I had white thong sandals with tiny shells and sand glued to the thong part of the shoe. I looked in the mirror and gave an approving grin as I saw my tanned reflection peering back at me. I stayed tan. It was partly because of my olive skin and partly because I lived on the Southern East Coast and it was hard to not be tanned.

  And my figure wasn’t too bad. I was 124 pounds, at 5’6” tall. To top it all off, I grabbed some starfish earrings and I was ready.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The doorbell rang and it looked like I was just in time. I ran downstairs.

  When I opened the door, Logan turned around and said, “Wow. Nice.”

  “Thanks, come on in.”

  “I’ll just run out there and take care of the pool so we can be on our way.”

  “Okay; no hurry.”

  I gathered my phone, camera and purse and placed them on the side table by the door. I turned off the coffee pot, went upstairs and made my bed, then turned off the lights.

  By the time I got back down the stairs, Logan was coming in from the sliding glass door and locked it. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  We locked up and headed for his truck. He had an almost new looking black Ford F150 truck with black and silver interior. The silver trim shined and looked luxurious. It was nice. It had black leather seats with a console between the two front seats. The truck had a backup camera that showed on the dash above the XM radio. It had GPS and all the bells and whistles.

  He said, “If you don’t mind, I planned out the day’s activities if you’re game.”

  “My life is in your hands. No, really, that’s fine, since I am lost.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” Logan said.

  “Not much to tell, I’m twenty-one from a small town on the Florida coast. I married my high school sweetheart at nineteen. He left me for someone else about six months ago and now, I’m divorced. I went to school to be a nurse; I passed my boards and am waiting on my license to arrive so I can go to work. Let’s see, I love music, dancing, swimming, reading, jewelry, hanging out and helping people. What about yourself?” I asked.

  “I moved here with my family when I was six years old from Boulder, Colorado. So, I’ve pretty much lived here my whole life. I’m twenty-one also. I’ve never been married and haven’t been to college. My father owns our business called ‘Mi Casa Es Su Casa’. I work taking care of vacation homes and selling real estate as well. My sister holds the realtor’s license. I may get one before too long. I love New Mexico and the people here. I love music as well, and watching movies, exploring, collecting arrowheads; I just love life,” he expounded.

  “So, where are you taking me?” I asked.

  “I thought we would start in Old Town. You can really get the feel of the place there,” Logan replied.

  “Sounds great.”

  “Here we are,” he said as we pulled into a parking space on the square of Old Town.

  We got out and headed down the street. I saw Indians all sitting on the sidewalk. They had colorful blankets laid out with jewelry all the way down the sidewalk in front of the businesses. I looked down and stopped. The jewelry was beautiful with all kinds of stones.

  Logan said, “They handcraft their own jewelry made from turquoise, jasper, coral and onyx, as well as other gems and then come here to sell it. Much of it was mined here in New Mexico. This is how they make a living.”

  “Wow, I love this stuff,” I said.

  “Yes, it is beautiful. If you want to buy anything, I suggest you go and talk to them about it and ask questions and compliment their work. They consider that to be respectful business. They don’t like it when people say how much and buy it and walk off like they don’t matter.”

  “Okay, thanks for the heads up,” I said.

  I took a few pictures. He started walking away and then said, “Come over here.”

  I walked to him and there was a band set up playing music. It was not rock and roll. The band was using handmade-looking instruments. I saw flutes and drums and other things that I didn’t recognize. The music was haunting, yet so peaceful with water sounds and the flutes, it just drew you in. Logan told me the instruments were handmade wooden flutes and these Native Americans had been performing here for years and years. They were awesome.

  All the buildings on the town square were made of adobe and colored in sand and tan shades. There was color everywhere. You could see Indian blankets and chili peppers hanging from the rafters. I also saw pottery everywhere and jewelry that was amazing and cheap. I couldn’t believe the prices. Could you say accessory paradise? There were clothes stores with southwest apparel. We passed through stores w
here they made drums with skins and Native American flutes and guitars. I took many pictures. Next, we went into art galleries.

  The paintings were amazing. This has all been very cool so far.

  “Are you about ready for some lunch?” Logan asked.

  “That would be great. I am pretty thirsty.”

  “Yes, I should have told you. It’s the altitude here that is so different from where you came from. Pretty much everyone here carries a water bottle everywhere they go. As a matter of fact, sit here a second.” He pointed to a bench. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  In about three minutes, he was back and was carrying a small basket. “Here,” he said as he presented it to me.

  “What is this?”

  “A present to welcome you to Albuquerque.”[LEB1]

  “No, really, you shouldn’t have.”

  “It’s nothing really, but you will thank me later; trust me.”

  “Well, thank you,” I said.

  “Why don’t we eat at La Placita and you can look at your basket after we order?” He pointed to the place in front of us.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  We were seated by the waitress and she asked for our drink order. I ordered Coke Zero and he ordered water.

  I looked at my menu and said, “I guess you have been here before?”

  “Many times,” he said.

  “So, what do you recommend?”

  “I recommend my favorite fajitas especial.”

  “It sounds good to me. I love fajitas.”

  “Oh, I guess I should tell you that New Mexico has a state question,” Logan said.

  “I’ve never heard of a state question before. What is it?” I asked.

  “It is red or green?” he replied.

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means, do you want red chili peppers or green, or you could have both and that’s called Christmas. Chili peppers are eaten on everything here, even breakfast food,” he said.

  “Wow. What if I don’t want any peppers?” I asked.

  “Then, you are pretty much out of luck because they put them in everything. But don’t worry, you will get used to it,” Logan said with a laugh.

  “So, which ones are the hottest?” I asked.

  “I can tell no difference in the heat myself,” he replied.

  The waitress came to take our order and I ordered the same as Logan. He smiled wide in approval.

  “Now, I must check out this mystery gift,” I said.

  There was a card attached that said, ‘New Mexico survival kit.’

  Inside the basket was all natural healing lotion, sunscreen, lip balm, natural tears, sunglasses, a bottle of water and a tiny language book.

  As I was putting everything back in the basket Logan explained, “The water is for what I explained earlier and the lotion is because until you are used to the dry air, it dries out your skin and the lip stuff is because it also dries out your lips. The eye stuff is for dry eyes because there is no humidity. I believe the rest explains itself,” he said.

  “Well, thank you, because I didn’t know these things,” I said.

  “I give one to all of my new homeowners who are not from here and have heard many other people say they wished someone had told them,” he said.

  “Well, you are very thoughtful,” I said.

  “It’s nothing, but hearing you say that makes me wonder if there is truth in what people say about me. That I am an old soul?” he replied.

  “That is very funny because they say the same thing about me. I just decided to take it like I was a brainiac,” I replied.

  “You are a very pretty brainiac,” he said.

  My face must’ve been glowing on fire as I blushed. “Thanks,” I replied as soon as I could speak. Our food arrived and I was saved. “Looks great.”

  I took a bite. It was good and it was warm. I continued eating and it got hotter and hotter until my throat felt like it was closing up and a little squeal sound came out instead of breathing. He grabbed these bread pockets that looked like pillows, stuck the spout of a honey squeeze bottle in it, handed it across to me and said, “Eat this now.”

  I eagerly grabbed for it and bit down. The honey filled my mouth and I could breathe again. When I composed myself I said, “Thanks, I think you saved my life.”

  “No, it’s just that you’re not used to it. In a month, you’ll be asking for extra peppers because this will be too mild. If you just squirt a little honey on the pillows your throat will be okay,” he said.

  “I think I will just stick with these pillows,” I replied.

  He laughed. We finished our lunch and I tried to pay.

  He wouldn’t let me. “I told you, I have already been paid. I feel guilty enough taking the money after I met you. Are you ready to go on exploring some more?” he asked.

  “Sure, where to?”

  He said, “Well, we could spend a couple of days here looking at all the shops. You know where this is now and you really have to take your time and see all of these amazing artists of every kind. Why don’t we go to Central Avenue which is the famous Route 66? The scene is a little closer to our age, although you really find people our age wherever you go. It’s really not segregated by age here. The people here are happy and just live and let live. Every day is a party of some kind here. It really is the land of enchantment. You just watch. You won’t want to leave this town.”

  “I already love the people and colors and adobes. It is beautiful. Route 66 sounds good to me,” I said.

  We headed to his truck.

  “Oh, yes, did I tell you I woke up to balloons off the veranda this morning?” I said.

  “No, but I’m not surprised. That happens all the time here. I have actually seen them off of your veranda,” he smirked.

  “Oh, I guess you would since you are the caretaker and all,” I replied.

  He was driving and I saw him looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I tried not to look at him even though he was very easy on the eyes.

  “So, you are a nurse.”

  “Yes. I’m just waiting to get my license.”

  “I think you will make a good nurse,” he replied.

  “Thanks. I think you are good at your job as well. You sure made things nice and easy for me. It was wonderful.”

  “I guess, in a way, we are in the same line of business. We both take care of people, but my people are not sick; or maybe in a way, they are. They are sick of the rat race and stressed out, ready for vacation. I try to take all of their worries away by taking care of all of the magical details for their retreat,” Logan said.

  “You’re right. I guess we are in the same business. Thanks again; this is really fun.”

  “It is my pleasure, trust me,” he said.

  I watched and saw the streets were full of people.

  “The famous Route 66.”

  “Yes, this is also called ‘The Mother Road’ because it goes from LA to Chicago,” Logan said.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I actually drove it with my dad all the way to Chicago from here,” he said.

  “Wow. I thought it was ridiculously long to the East Coast when I drove here, but I guess you drove further than that.”

  “I really enjoyed it, but I like road trips. For me, it is just a new adventure,” Logan said.

  “I love adventures, too. I just thought it was a long drive all alone. I wish I could get a job in adventures then; I would be in heaven,” I replied.

  “Are you ready to do some walking?” Logan asked.

  “Sure.”

  We headed down the streets and saw murals painted on the walls of the building and neon signs everywhere. We even saw some old restored fast cars. There were colors everywhere you looked.

  We walked through some shops. A horse, life sized, with paints all over it, caught my eye.

  “That is a painted pony. Many artists paint these and they’re collectibles. My sister has some.”

&nbs
p; “They’re cool.”

  We continued to walk up and down the street talking with music being played through some speaker systems.

  “This place looks like the melting pot of the world. All nationalities, races, sexes, eras and ages meshed together doing their own thing and everyone is fine with it. I think this place should be the role model for the world. It is unbelievable,” I said.

  “You may be on to something there. I guess that is why I am so comfortable here, because the whole town is pretty much like this. Live and let live,” Logan said.

  We continued checking out all of the sites.

  After much more time had passed, Logan asked, “Are you ready to eat something, Isabella?”

  “Red or green?”

  He burst out laughing and said, “I know a place that may be more mild and to your liking. Do you trust me?”

  “I liked the other place. I just got a little too much heat, but I trust you.”

  We got in the truck and drove to a place called Zinc.

  It had pretty stained glass and you could smell the fresh flowers as you entered. It was nice.

  We got a table and ordered our drinks.

  Logan said, “May I suggest the steak frites, or the chicken paillard lyonnaise?”

  “I think the steak frites sounds good.”

  He told the waitress we would both have that.

  Steak frites was a char broiled Angus strip loin with house-made French fried potatoes with demi-glace and maître d’hotel butter. It sounded delicious, and no peppers. I liked this guy. We chit-chatted until our food arrived and I found out he had no brothers, just a sister. His whole family lived here and worked with the company.

  We enjoyed our meal and headed back to the truck.

  “Well, that was delicious, Logan. Thanks for a great meal,” I told him.

  “You’re most welcome. I felt like I needed to redeem myself after almost choking you to death,” Logan replied.

  “You didn’t, but it was yummy,” I said.

  “Are you ready to head in for the night and be picked back up tomorrow?” he asked.

  “I am kind of tired, but you’ve done enough. You don’t need to waste your day tomorrow on me.”