***
There was one café in Oak Springs. The Country Star Café and Gift Shoppe looked exactly like one might expect. The converted brick townhouse had wood flooring and furniture, accented in a mix of classic florals and naval stars. It was genteel country at it's finest.
“Can I get you anything?” called the woman behind the counter as I entered. Blinking, I coughed. Her brows rose.
“Uh,” I squinted at the chalkboard behind her. She smiled politely.
“Iced latte maybe?”
Brow furrowed, I nodded.
“Anything else Gwen?”
“Uh - I don't -” I stammered, muscles tense.
“It's all right. I'll bring your drink out. Sit where you like!” She smiled and waved me away. Slowly I scanned the empty café.
Despite the darkness, I sat close to the back wall. I slouched as far down as possible, keeping my eyes on the table top. This was the best way to avoid “The Conversation.”
“I'm so sorry for your loss! Tommy was such a wonderful young man. He will be missed.”
I coughed, my eyes welling. Hastily, I wiped my tears just as the proprietor brought my drink. She said nothing. There was no flicker of emotion on her face as she set down the cup, turned, and went into the back.
Sighing, I brought the straw to my lips. As my sipping settled into a steady rhythm, I caught sight of a bright flier on the table. With my free hand, I picked it up.
As soon as I touched it, my stomach sank. My peripheral vision disappeared. Goosebumps sprouted as a sheen of sweat covered my skin. The room spun and my muscles strained with contraction. I gasped and closed my eyes. Far away was crumpling paper. Then something pulled my hand.
“Gwen? Can you hear me? Gwen?”
My eyes shut tight, I gripped the table for stability. A hand pressed my shoulder.
“Gwen?”
“Hmm?” I moaned. There came a deep sigh followed by a nervous laugh.
“Are you okay?”
Slowly I opened my eyes. The café looked the same. My drink sat before me, barely touched. A crumpled paper lay on the floor by my foot.
“What just happened?” I croaked.
“You tell me,” said the proprietor quietly. I turned to see her kneeling beside my chair. I frowned as she studied me. For a while I just looked at her.
“I don't know,” I said finally. The woman peered at me.
“I'm going to give you something.” She retrieved something from the counter. Returning to my table, she placed a business card next to my cup.
“Lin Verbeck, Owner and Operator, Country Star Café and Gift Shoppe,” I read, furrowing my brow. “What's this for?”
“If anything else – if you notice anything,” Lin met my eyes, “come find me.” My brows rose.
“Why should -”
“Just trust me, okay? Anything else – notable – happens – anything at all, come find me.”
I studied her for a second and nodded.
“Okay,” I shrugged, and my soaked shirt pulled at my skin. Frowning, I inspected my shirt. By the time I looked up, Lin Verbeck was gone. Shaking my head, I picked up my cup for another sip. As I did, I noticed the crumpled paper on the floor and froze. Just looking at it made my stomach twist.
I glanced around the café to make sure I was alone. Confident, I grabbed a spare straw and poked the paper. It flipped and my brows rose as I read:
Come to the Oak Springs High School Carnival!
Food, Games, Music, and More!
Support Our School This Friday!
All proceeds benefit Oak Springs Athletic Department!
Below the announcement were pictures from previous carnivals. Cheerleaders and all-stars beamed at the camera while framing carnival booths. A few of the students' smiles stretched to their eyes. Others appeared cemented in place, their eyes dead or tense. My mouth went dry as my stomach twisted. I shuddered and frowned. I reached for the flier, but stopped, pulling my hand away.
“I liked high school,” I murmured, shaking my head. My senior yearbook had pictures of me with friends, winning art, literature, and science competitions. The three years before were more of the same. I remembered teachers clapping me on the back as they handed me 100% scrawled across papers, projects, and tests. My warm memories had nothing to do with this strange feeling.
Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to go to the carnival came over me. I swallowed.
“Can't hurt to check it out.” I slurped down my remaining latte and jammed a few bucks on the table. I stood, ready to leave. Grimacing, I snatched Lin Verbeck's card and quickly thrust it in my pocket. Then I rushed onto the street, eager for the safety of home.
ABOUT
Alexis Donkin lives in Southern California with her family and real life familiar. She has lived many places and studied many things. When she's not writing or speaking, Alexis paints, sings, and dances, all while chasing around her kid. You can read more about her writing, speaking, adventures, and musing at https://alexisdonkin.com.
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