Chapter 92: [9] Close Encounters of the Bus Kind 9 [From Beyond Arc]

Close Encounters of the Bus Kind

[9]

Stepping out of the car on her own and facing the house was a different matter than simply stating her determination. Nadia lingered in the driveway and waved to Miss Wray and Erin for as long as she could.

When she was all alone, she adjusted her overnight bag, with basically everything she had to her name now, and turned to face the house. It was intimidating. She had no idea what sort of style it was supposed to be, but it looked like one of those common southwest ones built in the last few decades with light tan colors and Spanish roofs. There was a long garage with a smaller one off to the side. Five large windows with fake shutters and even faker balconies peered out and judged her. She gulped and wished that Erin was still with her.

A silver Toyota coupe sat in the driveway, slightly off to the side. Tying her hopelessly oversized shoes a little tighter helped with the clown-like shifting and scraping against the walkway. She suspected that Erin had an idea for what to do about her shoes in the laundry room last night but forgot about it because of Bubsy cuddles. That was fine, she knew they were wiped out by everything and didn’t want to press her about it. Hopefully, this place, this home, if it was in any way hers, would have something for her to put on her feet.

The front lawn was a meager rectangle but looked well-kept. Wide ferns and a bold assortment of other plants flanked the archways in front of the door. By the tile stood a large American flag.

The columns contained ornate decorations and a spacious, cushioned bench in front of the near window. Nadia wiggled in place and realized that she didn’t have a key. She could obviously call one of the numbers she had for the Baris family on her phone but that seemed silly, when she was basically on the front porch. Knocking seemed like the best idea.

Reaching for the door, she gripped the peculiar brass handle latch and it clicked. She let go and stepped back. Did they leave it unlocked? Maybe, for her sake?

The notion beguiled her. Even when Paul was a little kid, his parents drilled into him that you had to lock doors and keep them secured. Stories of criminals and scary people were fed to him at an early age. Because of it, he once accidentally locked the family out of the bathroom. But it did help instill the habit of making absolutely certain everything was secure when he ran through the vehicle checklist and locked everything up when he was done.

Cautiously, she pressed the door forward with the expectation that the chain would block her. The chain wasn’t up. The house was literally unlocked. It also didn’t even have a chain, as she discovered a small metal bell dangling on the other side. It tinkled softly. The foyer was small but had an area for umbrellas and shoes along with a wooden rack with several coats hanging on it.

To her left, she noticed a large, widescreen TV in front of a dining area. With learning she was Turkish, Nadia was prepared for a few things. But she wasn’t prepared for the giant lithograph of Jesus on the opposite wall. Her parents had some iconography scattered around their house but nothing quite so overt.

Around the wall and to the left were a pair of couches flanking the television. Two girls sat on one couch with two guys on the other. The girls had circular versions of the Turkish flag painted on their cheeks and arched above their couch as though about to launch to their feet while the guys slumped on their couch as though they were distressed cats.

“Welcome home, Nadi! It’s 1 to 0!“ The nearest girl brushed her hair back and clapped as she spoke. Nadia noticed that some sort of soccer game was being shown on the television. Cheers came from down the hall by the kitchen. One girl appeared around her age while the other seemed a little bit older. Both girls had a red tint in their hair. The boys had thick but plain dark hair and seemed closer to elementary school and junior high. Her legs wanted to quiver and collapse beneath her, but she steadied herself.

“Hi. That’s good...”

The nearest girl glared, as if she still managed to commit a faux pas in so few words. “Mom was mad she couldn’t reach you until late. You should’ve texted. What were you doing?”

Gingerly, Nadia slipped off her shoes. “We got caught up in that plane crash thing. It was a long delay… rerouting. Erin and her mom put me up for the night. What’s going on?”

The other girl scoffed, “What do you think? It’s the World Cup. Did you fall off the planet? You sound out of it. Too much fun with your friend?”

Nadia had only the vaguest notion of what the World Cup was. She knew there were a couple of instances of it back in the 90s. She deduced it was probably for the best that she leave the rest of her thoughts unspoken.

I lovely, forest path watercolor painting covered the left wall before a glass and wood cabinet packed to the brim with family photographs placed like collectibles. Back a ways, she found the steps to the second story with a junction leading to a narrow, brown hallway to the right and the kitchen on the left with what looked to be another living room beside it. A woman hopped off a couch and rushed towards her with her arms open.

She wore a red dress with white accents and not much to the shoulder. Her hair also had a reddish tint but with more modest layering. Somehow, she was actually smaller and shorter than her. Wrapped up in a vigorous, motherly hug, Nadia waited through several warm kisses on her cheek before the woman spoke.

“Nadi. I’m so glad you’re home. Was everything okay? You didn’t have to pay for anything? Did you make sure to thank your friend’s mother? Come here. Did you eat? I can warm something up.” Nadia marveled at the mother figure before her. It was like she hadn’t seen her daughter in many days or weeks and surely she had only been away for the evening with volleyball, depending on how reality decided to treat everything. It wasn’t bad though. Paul’s grandmother was ravenous for making sure he was fed and that nothing was bothering him, at least when she still had her faculties.

Still assuming this was her mother, Nadia could see that the woman shared certain facial features, especially the same subtle cleft to her chin. She wasn’t prepared to absorb everyone milling about the side room in front of another large TV. A fancy air hockey table filled the rear area along with a cramped gaming setup. She recognized there seemed to be aunts and other siblings smiling at her between watching the game. All girls back here with three in particular who seemed like decent suspects for her remaining siblings. No dad though.

A wide-eyed little sister grabbed at her leg and smiled when she looked down. “How many points you score?” A dozen random numbers popped into her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to such a sweet face. “I’m afraid I didn’t score this time, but I’ll do better next time. It was rough, but we just barely won. Odessa got hurt, but she’ll be fine. How are you?”

The kid pouted in disappointment but soon launched into a diatribe about how her frog was doing this thing and then she lost it and then she got it back and then there was a problem with the pool where she practiced swimming and she couldn’t bring her frog and then he needed to be washed and then there was a ball. She wiggled on her legs and looked away for most of it. Nadia just smiled.

Eventually, her mother peeled her away and over to the kitchen to continue her scrutiny. Nadia recognized baklava on the table but left it alone. Her new mother eventually served her a portion of it along with a kind of cabbage stew. Paul only had a few lingering food allergies, but she figured and hoped that whatever the UFO did to her removed those nagging issues.

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The dish was warm, hearty, and thoroughly soothing. She graciously ate a little bit despite her stomach still being packed from breakfast. This mother also didn’t let the lack of answers to her questions slide. She persisted.

No, Nadia assured her there were no expenses. And, of course, she fully expressed her appreciation and gratitude to Miss Wray. And she explained that she already had a full breakfast, but she appreciated the snack. But mom didn’t stop there, she wanted clarity about all the missing details. Nadia would’ve liked that herself.

What she went with was the vaguest outline that followed the contours of her male life. But there really was no answer for how she managed to arrive at Erin’s apartment than to ignore the incongruity. Picking away at these quandaries, her mother eventually sighed and threw up her hands.

The weirdest moment came soon after that, when Nadia checked her overnight bag and found that it had a different texture and weight. The exterior was identical, but it felt like someone slipped something inside when she wasn’t looking. Digging around, she soon discovered her phone was different. Paul easily sufficed with a small, older model Android that she could just add minutes to. Now, it was an iPhone with an absolutely enormous screen and several camera dots on the back.

Nervously, she checked her contacts. The call from last night was still there despite the fact it was placed on a very different piece of hardware. ERIN REEVES sat amidst a grouping that included the entire team, along with Tonya. The only unfamiliar name was Coach Janice Nesbitt, who seemed to be the new volleyball coach.

Aside from her phone and charger, the bag contained several sports items such as tape, pads, and a humongous water bottle. She also found her keys with a fluffy, squishy ball kitten critter attached to them. Returning to the front of the house, she further discovered that her ill-fitting shoes had been replaced with pink sneakers in her size. The shaking returned, as though it had never left. Fear ravaged her mind that, even though Erin‘s name remained in her phone, the heart and soul she loved had somehow been twisted, by whatever was happening, into someone else.

Seizing a moment occupied by game-focused cheers, Nadia sought out the privacy of whatever room seemed to be hers. The stairs led directly to a master bedroom with a spacious loft to the left. The master almost seemed bigger than the entire kitchen area. A king-sized bed did little to fill the space on the left. Straight ahead was a full couch with a spacious bathroom to the right.

After several closets, she was presented with four doors. The ones with bunkbeds were obviously not the correct choice, which left her with a Jack and Jill combo set of bedrooms joined by a small bathroom. Whatever other feelings she had about this place, she narrowed her eyes in annoyance that there was only one sink but space for a second.

It was ultimately the stray volleyball in the corner and the shelf of fascinating books that led her to the correct room. As with practically every other bedroom, the closet was covered in mirrors. On the other end was a computer desk with a fancy laptop connected to an external monitor and a slender black keyboard. The chair was full and fancy, looking more like a gamer’s setup. She resisted testing it out for easing her way onto the queen bed and squeezing her legs together as she cradled her strange phone.

She wasn’t used to the contours of the see-through case versus Paul’s regular ridged plastic one, so it slipped around in her uncertain grip until she finally squeezed it close. I took several long breaths before she gathered the determination to dial Erin. Uncertain whether to put it on speaker or leave it quiet, she pressed the phone to the side of her head before fiddling with her hair to make sure she could hear.

It was too quiet, especially with only the ringing to bridge the silence. Rationally, she knew that there were several perfectly rational explanations for why it was taking so long. Foremost, she knew they had literally dropped her off not too long ago and likely hadn’t gotten back to the apartment or were making a stop somewhere along the way. And she couldn’t talk or perhaps…

*Click* “…So, how is it?“

An absolute tidal wave of relief washed over her so hard that she wanted to cry. “Erin?” The question was perfunctory but necessary to quell the last sliver of doubt.

“Still here. Are you still there? No weirdness? No losing your mind?”

She couldn’t stop it, she cried a little bit with squeaking in her voice. “I’m still here. Still not sure what all this is and why it all happened to some dumb bus driver. Plenty of weirdness and not enough mind. But I am here.”

They talked softly to one another. Nadia struggled to express the immense, overwhelming magnitude of this new family she seemed to be a part of. She spoke highly of her designated new mom and made absolutely sure that Erin was the same one she left behind. Erin echoed a similar sentiment with carefully chosen words, since it sounded like Miss Wray was nearby. She especially pressed the reveal that several items on and around her had been altered by whatever was going on. Before they could delve further into these developments, Nadia heard several firm raps on the front door, which was positioned right beneath her.

She paused and mulled those noises over. The walls were a little too thick for her to pick out the words being said, but she detected a man’s voice and what had to be her mother’s. Soon, she heard her mother calling from over by the landing, “Nadia? Sweetie? Could you please come down for a moment? There’s someone who wants to talk to you. He said it’s important but not bad.“

“Sure! … Mom. Sure, mom! I’ll be right there.” Erin and she said a hasty goodbye with the promise to pick up their conversation again soon, with greater privacy. After quickly plugging in her phone to charge, Nadia made her way back downstairs.

A man stood in the half-open doorway with her mother gripping the handle. He wasn’t too tall but crouched slightly before the threshold. He had on a suit with an almost black tie and long sleeves that pooled around his wrists as though the outfit was not a great fit. His pant legs were also bunched up. His thin, gaunt features gave a vaguely pathetic impression more reserved for a hobo. Dark, marble-like eyes peered out from the overhang of his black hair. He smiled sharply.

“Nadia Baris? I’m Agent Cross with…the Air Force. May I come in…?”

 

 

[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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