Chapter 88: [5] Close Encounters of the Bus Kind 5 [From Beyond Arc]

Close Encounters of the Bus Kind

[5]

Erin frantically considered all her possible responses, ranging from running screaming from the room to passing out. Ultimately, she settled for, “Yeah…mom. Good evening… here.” She resisted the urge to cringe.

The woman, who looked remarkably like her mother when she was last this age, cocked her head slightly and raised a skeptical eyebrow. Without warning, she stretched her hand out and touched Erin, who didn’t have time to recoil, on the forehead and cheek. “What happened? Did the game go bad? You sound out of it but you don’t feel sick.”

Erin waited for a sharp retort that never came. This wasn’t her mother. It couldn’t possibly be her mother. Her mother, at best, ignored her pain and suppressed tears, and, at worst, belittled them as the whining complains of a whelp. Grow up, get stronger, I can stand your father and so can you! Erin drew in a breath like she was hoarding and protecting it against some indomitable force which would suck the air out of everything. This strange woman didn’t attack her though, she appeared genuinely concerned and sympathetic.

Cautiously, Erin reported, “We won. 3 to 2. Odessa hurt her leg. But she’ll be fine. We…we got back a little late. I’m sorry.”

This mother figure squeezed her in a cheerful hug. “I’m glad you gals won. Hopefully, that means you can move up a rank. And oh my goodness, poor Odessa. She’s such a trooper. Maybe we can make her one of those peanut butter cupcakes she likes so much to cheer her up? And I figured you would be late. What with that plane crash next to the Air Force Base. Everyone is having trouble getting around with routes near there shutdown. Toxic chemicals too. Keep your windows closed tonight. And the air just set to circulate. I can take care of it.”

After that hug was finished, she leaned over and wrapped up Paul in a cordial embrace. “And how are you doing, Nadia? Have you had anything to eat?”

Paul needed a moment to process the name that Mrs. Reeves called her. The magnitude of the word actually slipped by her until she repeated the sentence to herself and realized that was supposed to be her name. Curiously, she asked, “Nadia…?”

"Mrs. Reeves" searched inwardly with her eyes before resolving, “Have I forgotten a new nickname? You girls are gonna have to clue poor little old me in. I finally have some of the cheers down and thank you for the mnemonic, Agent Omelets, and Element Goats. It’s a shame Most Elegante is a little bit awkward, because that’s my favorite. Even though you get nervous about being the extra E, sweetie.” For the last note, she turned back to her daughter with an expression of sympathy.

Paul wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do but answered that there were no new nicknames for her, that she knew about, and that “Nadia is fine”. She nervously appended, “Mrs. Reeves.” Then she realized that she didn’t answer the original question and awkwardly stated, “I’m great. Just showered and, yeah, I’ve had plenty to eat. Big…protein omelet earlier and cheesecake here.”

The first part brought a quick pout and a lingering sigh from Erin‘s mother, while she looked wistful and eager at the mention of cheesecake. “Nadia… please. No need to be so formal. Besides, we’ve dropkicked Mrs into the stratosphere. I’ve told you, you can call me Sharon or simply Miss Wray. Although, there are definitely some fun names I’m considering. Things are still up in the air.”

Every fresh word that this woman spoke felt like another mile put between her and the woman Erin considered mother. Her mother scoffed at the idea of changing the name you were given by your parents, outside of marriage. She was especially harsh to her coworkers, and vitriolic when Erin brought up a trans student who the administration struggled to find a spot for on one of the volleyball teams. Ultimately, she changed schools, but Erin desperately regretted not doing more for her.

It wasn’t a bad thing that this woman, a dream, ideal version of her mother, seemed to be real. But Erin had long ago resolved to keep her guard up against things that felt too good to be true.

Sharon got a halting but slightly more confident, “Miss Wray” out of Paul, who was uncertain about whether she should accept the name of Nadia. Sharon Wray was apparently parked at the curb with lots of groceries and supplies to bring in for the weekend and next week.

One precious drip of information at a time, Erin was able to piece together that her mother showing up this late at night was not an unusual occurrence. This was apparently still Erin‘s apartment despite the fact Sharon had her name on the lease. This mom split time between a “gentleman” friend’s condo and this location. Several bags called for Erin and Paul’s help to bring in.

Erin braced herself before the doorway and resisted breathing once it was open. The still of the night, lanced with harsh, buzzing lights was tinted by lingering fog in all directions. No other sounds, but the ones they made, interrupted the oppressive silence. No dogs, nor people, about.

Still anxious, almost to the point of shaking, Erin hung as many bags as possible on her skinny arms until she started to lose feeling and blood flow. Paul took a modest amount, at first, but soon grabbed a few more when she saw how many Erin was hauling. On her way back to the door, Erin paused, and Paul halted right behind her.

“Did you feel that?”

Erin turned slightly to ask Paul, even though she wasn’t certain if she actually felt what she had just felt. The sensation was a ripple of pressure through the air from some immense presence, like a flying whale breaching some higher realm and splashing through a column of air as it returned. Only it didn’t feel quite as harmless and friendly as some imaginary whale. She wasn’t sure if the ground twitched a little beneath her feet or if it was her unsteady, quivering thighs. Erin decided to ignore it and hustle back inside.

Sharon Wray diligently attended to putting everything away. She scratched Bubsy on the neck and cooed his name as though she had known him all her life despite the fact Erin’s ‘real’ mother only met him once and denounced him as ‘mangy’. This disparity didn’t seem to bother Bubsy as Sharon produced one of those meat Go-Gurt tube treats for the kitty and he eagerly sucked it down.

Erin wanted to stay and continue to put things away, but the front door felt like a gnawing thread laced through her brain and Paul returned down the steps to grab the next load. She scampered after Paul and just barely caught up with her.

The atmosphere outside did things to her, especially using all those shaking nerves to transmit that she desperately needed to go pee despite the need being absent mere moments ago. She could turn around, head back inside, and deal with it but that would mean leaving Paul alone with whatever the hell was lurking in the mists.

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She stayed right next to her as they split several more bags. Ducking down into the trunk to grab some personal, small watermelons, Erin popped back up and saw, with a sliver of her vision, a huge shadow pass at the edge of the apartment complex. When she looked up, nothing seemed amiss. No movement, no space whales.

She remembered how the light in the morning through the bathroom window sometimes felt like the sun was a giant bulb and occasional motions of trees or animals felt like flicking off the switch. Just one of those things, or her bad eyes being awful and unreliable. Only their ‘alien abduction’ had healed her eyes along with everything else, so she was seeing the world as it was meant to be seen, right? She tightly shadowed Paul back inside.

Paul, who was still toying with the name of Nadia in her brain, found it hard to overlook Erin‘s clear anxiety. She didn’t know what to think about the woman who purported to be Erin‘s mother. They seemed nice though, so she had no complaints. Holding back the full stretch of a yawn, Paul sniffed an aromatic bag of coffee beans to keep herself going. Last trek.

Erin dumped her stuff quickly and muttered that she had to use the restroom. Paul considered just grabbing the rest of it but instead busied herself with helping Miss Wray put several items away. A Korean barbecue kit and a make-your-own-taco platter both looked especially amazing. Paul hoped that she could come up with a reason to visit again to share in each of them. She gathered from Miss Wray’s demeanor that she considered it normal that “Nadia“ was around and she seemed welcome. Fingers crossed!

”Do the two of you want some privacy tonight?” Sharon’s question caused Paul to pause with a huge box of baking soda in her hand. Softly, Paul questioned, “Privacy?“

She winked and took the baking soda from her to tuck into the back of the fridge. “I can recognize young love. Do be careful with my daughter’s heart. I’m fine sleeping anywhere. You’re free to the couch or the nice big bed. Whatever is the snuggliest… with company.” Paul immediately felt hot all over her face and was flummoxed for what words to offer. Instead of speaking, she just grabbed a whole bunch of things and put them away.

When Erin returned, she noticed Paul’s change in demeanor but wasn’t sure what to say either. They made their way back down the steps to grab the last things from the car.

Paul gripped the large bag of cat food, wavering with the weight. She didn’t have a man’s strength anymore, yet she was still conditioned to accept the heavier load. Behind her, she heard Erin’s load drop to the pavement with the unfortunate noise of eggs cracking. A frantic, plaintive whimper squeaked out of Erin.

Turning around, she caught sight of Erin barely on her feet, gripping the parking shade support beam and the edge of the bumper. Paul hurriedly set what she was carrying back down and huddled close to attend to Erin. Nervously, she asked what was wrong.

“I saw…I saw… it was. It was horrible. I can’t… tell me you please tell me you saw something…” Paul looked over her shoulder. Just the bloom of the lights diffused by dense walls of mist. She could barely see the next building and the faint trace of a fence in the distance. With so many details obscured, she knew it was easy to glimpse something otherwise normal warped and distorted by the unsettling air. At the same time, they had lived through a night of impossible things.

“What did you see?” She moderated her tone with curiosity and softness, same as she did her best to believe her grandfather when he shrieked about a nurse who came in an hour ago and was stealing their best dishes, even though Paul had been sitting with him for hours alone. He knew about dementia and all sorts of other heart-wrenching conditions, along with vague notions of paranoid schizophrenia. He desperately avoided the sound of judgment in his words.

Erin got her breathing under control and wasn’t sure whether to check the uncertain world around her, seek comfort in Paul’s kind eyes, or close her vision off from everything. When she turned around, she saw eyes in the gray. Wild, gleaming, red eyes projecting inescapable malice. Dozens filled the end of the street, watching her, waiting. They could’ve been brake lights, her logic told the rest of her. Countless cars swarming the narrow space with no sign of them moments later.

She drew in a breath to speak but slowly released it like a balloon. Weakly, she replied, keeping her eyes on Paul, “Nothing. I thought…thought I saw maybe a car backing up I guess. Spooky night and I need some sleep. Sorry… oh gosh… the eggs.”

They rescued what was broken and Paul handled it delicately as they brought everything inside. Paul and Erin tussled with one another to apologize first, but Sharon laughed and waved her hand as she assured them it was fine. Only three of the eggs were cracked and they had another dozen. Her old mom would’ve launched into a diatribe about how everything she broke or treated with disrespect was money stolen out of their pockets and mouths for food.

But that wasn’t the way things were anymore. She had been far away from her mother and this woman was further still in attitude and affection. Erin felt so used to pessimism, nerves, and preparation for the worst. She had to tell herself that it was fine, she could be happy, she could relax, and she didn’t need to think about terrible possibilities.

With the three of them, everything was swiftly put away. Sharon grabbed some chocolates and one slice of cheesecake to take with her to the couch as she called back for Erin to shut the fridge when she was done. It wasn’t a command or a note of disappointment, just a gentle reminder.

Already one last item ahead, Erin unconsciously motioned towards the fridge and heard it firmly shut. When she turned around, she paused in confusion. The fridge door was several feet away from her. She copied the motion she’d just done and resolved that not only hadn’t she not felt the fridge when she closed it, but it was impossible for her to reach any part of it from where she was standing. Bowing her head, she rubbed at her eyes and told herself that she just needed some sleep. 

 

 

[I have a question at the end of the chapter again to help with suggestions for where the story should go. I'm actually not that far ahead this time and I am wide open for possibilities for this particular story. Feel free to add an idea which doesn't show up in the options. Also, if you see any random typos or uncapitalized starts of sentences, please pass them along. I have to cut down on my editing due to release speed and my programs don't seem to be catching lowercase sentences. Thank you for reading!]

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