The young woman entered the bar, it was late but the bar was crowded. She had a long day behind her and all she wanted was a quick drink and maybe some hours of sleep in the cheap motel in front of the bar.
Glass clinking against glass and loud chattering were all she could hear, she was used to it. Nothing was different from the night before and the one before that.
She pushed her golden blonde ponytail behind her shoulder and headed towards the counter.
She climbed on a stool and waved her hand to the bartender, he signed her to wait and when he arrived, she ordered a frozen margarita with strawberry juice – because she was in the right mood – then she started wondering around with her eyes, patiently waiting for her drink to arrive.
It was the first time she entered that place but she seemed to know everybody in that room. They were all the same: lonely men, sad women, nervous underage teenagers, some loner prostitutes.
There was a group of four businessmen right next to her, they were talking about money and travels and she was the kind of person that snooped into other people's business; so she quietly stayed still, sipping at her drink, listening to other people's conversations.
Only two minutes later, she already knew about the guy at the end of the counter – Jim – he was a middle aged man with two kids and a boring wife… he was making a deal with Ginger (fake name for sure) the redheaded prostitute, for two hours in one of the motel rooms.
In the crowd, at one of the little round tables, there was Paula – she was a waitress with no man and no life. The only joy in her days was her brother's son. A three year old boy with big brown eyes and thick dark hair. She showed his picture to the guy who served her fifth whiskey and it took him ten minutes to shut her up.
Giving her back to the crowd, she faced the big wall full of liquors, behind the counter. She wondered what colour were all the drinks inside the bottles. What did they smell like? What did they taste like?
She was dying for a cigarette, but she promised to herself that she wouldn't spend her money that way… at least not until she had a job.
Food and gasoline were her priorities… and so it was a frozen margarita with strawberry juice, apparently.
She glanced down at her drink, feeling a sudden wave of guilt building in her chest. Or maybe it was the alcohol.
The air was warm, warmer than outside. It was mid-May, but all those people and no conditioning air did the job. At least the place didn't smell bad.
She was bored, very bored. The stories of the strangers weren't amusing her anymore.
She sighed, letting her head fall behind and closing her eyes for a brief moment. She let the air slowly fill her lungs, breathing through her nose and letting it out with a whiff.
Feeling the weight of her head on her shoulders, she straightened her back and took another little sip at her drink – the ice was all melted and the taste was fading, but it was still good.
It was then that she noted possibly the only person that she hadn't noticed before.
The woman was sitting on a stool identical to hers, sipping on a drink similar to hers, ignoring the noise and the people just like her. She looked like a ghost.
So that was the fate she was going to meet? Being alone, clothed in fancy dresses with a drink in a hand and – what was that? – a pretty cane in the other?
Seeing herself in strangers was something that she usually didn't do. She was intrigued now.
Curious as she was, she couldn't stop staring at the woman, wondering who she was and all kind of hypothesis popped up in her mind.
Maybe she was a lonely heiress, waiting for the right moment to marry some lucky guy. Or maybe she was a black widow, waiting for the occasional dumb to chew and spit and kill.
One thing she was sure of: she was waiting for something. The woman was so quiet, lost in her thoughts, drinking by herself.
Maybe she just wanted to be left alone… maybe she wasn't waiting for anybody. How could she be so sure?
Waiting or not, she wanted to know her secrets and since nobody was approaching the woman to let her talk, she had to find out the old fashioned way.
Grabbing her half empty glass, the young woman left her safe spot, walking towards her target.
Thinking about what to say was probably a good idea, but the room was small and by the time she realized that, she was already standing beside her.
"May I?" she asked, gesturing to the empty stool next to her with a small smile on her lips.
Without saying a word, the other woman lifted her head and moved her eyes from the stool to the short girl on her right.
Bright green eyes met dead blue ones.
She was either stoned or incredibly sad. One thing didn't exclude the other.
The young woman didn't sit down until the older one nodded in her direction. She didn't seem one of much words. Now she was even more curious. What did her voice sound like?
"I'm sorry to bother you, but what are you doing in this bar?" discretion was another thing that didn't applied to her, so it seemed perfectly normal to her, asking a question without even introducing herself first. "By the look of it, your outfit is worth more than the whole place".
Her features remained still, the expression on her face didn't change. For a moment she believed that maybe she didn't hear her. Then the woman looked at her again – she wasn't mad or bothered, she was nothing. Her eyes were so empty that it almost scared her. "And why are you asking?"
On the other hand, the voice was anything but dull. It was a rich deep voice, no trace of accent that she could recognize. Finally, the ghost seemed a little more alive.
The girl shrugged, "Just curious" she answered, sipping at her drink.
The other woman automatically did the same, her eyes still fixed on the younger one. "Curiosity killed the cat" she simply said, then she put her glass down and gestured the bartender for another one.
With a roll of her eyes, the girl emptied her drink – she wondered for a moment if ordering another one was a good idea. It was a very likely possibility that she had to drive after leaving the bar, and the last thing that she wanted was crashing the car in a tree. "Honestly, if I had a dollar every time someone said that to me, I wouldn't have to worry about financial problems".
The shadow of a smile hovered above her lips, before she turned her head to the wall behind the counter. "I'm traveling" she said.
"Where to?"
"Forgive me, but" she weighted her words, staring at all the bottles – maybe she was wondering the colour of the liquors too, "I'd rather keep that information to myself".
"Fair enough" the girl straightened her back again; damn, those stools were uncomfortable. "I am heading to New Orleans".
The curly waves of the woman's hair fell from one shoulder to her back, as she reached for her new drink. The smell of jasmine and roses reached the girl's nostrils, from the thin and pale blond hair of the mysterious woman. Her name changed from 'the ghost' to 'the mysterious woman' – it was a good sign. "What's so special about New Orleans?" she asked.
The girl took a quick look around before answering, not wanting too many ears to listen. "The Coven".
The woman didn't even blink, she just traced the rim of her glass with her index finger, "Are you a witch?"
"No" the answer was immediate and she almost laughed. "No, I'm not. Although I wish I were… no," she repeated, "I just want a safe place to stay for a while and the woman on the TV seemed a nice person".
The woman shook her head lightly. "Everybody seems worth of our trust on the television".
"I'm not that naïve…" she blurt under her breath, feeling a bit ashamed for speaking her mind. "Please, enlighten me…" she joked, "what's the perfectly safe and beautiful place you're going to? I swear I won't tell a soul" she kissed her fingers and drew a cross on her heart.
After a long pause, during which the girl almost believed that she wasn't going to get her answer, the other woman sighed before she emptied her second drink. She rested her hands in her lap and interlaced her fingers together. "New Orleans" she said, staring at nothing.
"My, that's a coincidence" the girl almost laughed. "You know, we could go together… or, you could always spend the night in that crappy motel. I hope you're not afraid of cockroaches".
The girl sensed a shiver in the other woman and a grimace passed over her face, but the moment she saw it, it was already gone. "I don't mean to offend you," she said very calmly, "but it's not my habit sharing a car ride with perfect strangers".
"Hey, we're both tempting fate here. For what I know you could be a serial killer" the girl shrugged, standing up and reaching behind her back to feel her kidneys again. "Let's make a deal. I won't kill you and you won't kill me" she joked, offering the other woman her hand.
She was taking too much to make up her mind and by the look on her face, she wasn't very keen on accepting her offer.
"Come on," she whined, "You're seriously declining a free car ride just because you don't know me? I'm a five feet woman with noodle arms. What harm could I ever do to you?"
That did it, it was either that or she accepted out of exhaustion – but she nor the less accepted the offer.
With a serious look in her semi-hazed eyes, the woman shook the other's hand in a light grip, before using her as a leverage to get up from the stool as she pointed her cane on the floor.
Once they both put some money on the counter, they left the bar, and the fresh night air caressed their figures.
The neon lights from the motel were blinking, some man with his company was now entering one of the doors.
Drunk laughs filled the air, as a group of teens left another room, completely wasted.
While they were silently walking side by side, a car passed the motel and loud rock music boomed for few seconds, until it faded along with the car.
The woman really needed that cane, the girl noticed – she was putting all her weight on it, but she didn't make it look to hard. She wondered what was wrong with her left leg.
She decided not to ask, not now… she had to bite her tongue hard, because the curiosity was almost killing her, but she had the feeling that another inconvenient question would have made her change her mind.
The young woman's car was nothing special. It was old and a bit dusty, but it was clean inside and it smelled good. The other woman needed a hand to get inside and once again the girl had to try really hard not to mention her leg… that was going to be a problem, she needed to know.
While she roamed in her bag to find the keys, she shared a look with the woman. "So," she said, circling her fingers around the fluffy rabbit shaped keychain, "what's your name?"
It took her few moments to realized that they hadn't introduced themselves yet, and it seemed to bother her a little. She took her time once again, as if telling your name to another person was a hard thing to do. When she spoke, she didn't look her in the eyes. "Bedelia" she said, no surnames then.
"Is that even a real name?" the question came too fast and she couldn't stop her mouth, as she started the engine. When she realized that, she forced down a smile, trying not to look at the other woman.
"It is" she answered in a composed tone, as she relaxed against the seat, fixing her security belt.
The girl smiled a delighted smile, this time not bothering to hide it. "Nice to meet you, then" she said, "I'm Alice".