Part 3…
My eyes open slowly; feeling like each one weighs ten pounds. I must have fallen asleep, there is light outside and I shake my head a bit trying to dissipate the leftover sleepiness.
"Hey" I ask to no one in particular
"Do any of you know how far away we are from Roswell?"
Nobody answers…Sheesh.
So I squeeze myself past Senor Walrus and head down the aisle to the driver.
"How far away are we from Roswell" I ask again
"Behind the line" she says as she points to the fluorescent yellow line that my toes have crossed.
I take a step back and ask again. This time she answers
"30 minutes"
Thirty minutes. A half hour until my new life begins. I'm half filled with giddy relief; the other is filled with nervous trepidation. I'll be o.k. though, cuz I have my list, the list will keep me safe..
I'm not stupid or naïve, I have street smarts…I'm not some rich girl from the hills who can't take care of herself….
By now I am bound and determined to see this thru…I go back to my seat because Mrs. Davis, the driver, keeps giving me these dirty looks. I think that if I don't sit down, she just might kick me off the bus and leave me in the desert.
So I go sit.
A thousand thoughts keep running through my mind, a great whirlwind.
I'm free
That one small phrase gives more happiness to my soul than any material possession here on Earth.
So the bus comes to a stop and the chick with the sour attitude decides to let us out.
So I'm in Roswell, alone, at 6.00 am. The sun is already shining, the sky doesn't have a cloud in it and everything around me is beige.
Beige, and ugly, drab color
I miss how green Portland was….and the temperature…it feels like a good 70 degrees already…
I look up and notice a little run-down motel across the highway called the "E.T Inn". Imaginative, eh?
So I dodge the traffic of the highway (that was supposed to sound sarcastic, cuz there is like no one around, let alone a few cars.) and head for the motel.
I press the little buzzer beside the reception area. I grizzled old man's face appears, which scares me momentarily, then I gain my composure and try to look old..
"I'd like a room" I say nonchalantly
"How old are you," he growls out
"19" I say boldly, pulling my fake i.d from my bag.
The man looks like he doesn't believe it for a minute.
"Well" I say, "I'm sure there is some place else that will take my money" I say feigning disinterest,..hoping he'll take the bait
And hook, line and sinker, he does
"No, no" he says as he stares at the money I'm holding "you're fine"
I can practically see him drooling at the thought of a paying customer at this run-down piece of crap motel.
So I pay him enough for three days and he gives me the key. The room isn't as bad as I thought it would be…everything looks clean. Suddenly one of those Dateline specials on how there are little bitty germs on everything fills my mind..Ewww..
I'll try not to think about that.
My first thought is to shower…..
I'm not really sleepy, just filled with a sense of innate freedom and exhilaration.
I go to the restroom and when I look into the mirror I am momentarily shocked.
I think I had almost forgotten about my little gas station escapade.
I pull the baseball cap off my head and look at myself. My hair doesn't look too hideous; it's just that my skin tone doesn't play off this new hair shade too well. It's a medium blonde, thank God. I thought maybe it would turn it some hideous freakish shade the likes of which the world had never seen.
After my shower I take another look, giving myself a pep talk. "Chica" I say to myself "you are a complete babe, a gorgeous vixen, you will survive because you are Liz Parker, girl extraordinaire"
Watch out world..or at least Roswell, cuz here I come.
The creepy old dude had said that Roswell was only about three miles down the highway…
Not to bad, I can walk/hitchhike
So I throw on my jeans, a red tank top, and my jean jacket; comb my hair, and head out the door..
I start walking, and I walk and walk and walk I will tell you this, the heat here is hell. I could have probably run the whole 3 miles in Portland, here, with every step, I can feel the sweat on my brow.
I hear the sound of an engine and I momentarily pray that it isn't some horny truck driver.
I stick my thumb out. And this little red Jetta pulls over so I hop inside.
"Hi" says the cheerful voice, "you need a ride?"
"Yeah, thanks"
I smile my gratitude and notice her for the first time. She has medium blond hair, about my new shade actually, and she is wearing some retro clothes. I wonder if that is what the other people our age wear here..
Great, only a few hours into my life as a completely new person and I have reverted to a fashion conscious chica again, already thinking about how to fit in with others.
"I'm Maria," she says
"I'm L.." I stop. Gotta choose a new name, quick.
"I'm Zoey"
"Hi" she says
"When did you get in?" she says
"Huh?"
She laughs… "This is a pretty small town, everyone knows everyone"
Great, I chose small town America as my hide out. Smart Liz. Real Smart
"Do you know any places that are hiring?" I ask trying to change the subject of why I am new here..
"Do you have any experience as a waitress?"
"Oh yeah"
"I could get you a job at the Crashdown Café" she offers. "That is where I am headed, my shift starts in ten minutes"
"That would be great"
Job. Check. Liz Parker you are doing magnificently.
So we pull up in front of this little hole in the wall café..soon to be my new place of employment..
"It's not too bad, the owners are really nice"
So we go in and she introduces me to (hopefully) my new employers, Mr. and Mrs. Evans.
So Maria leads me in and I am literally assaulted by the décor of the place. Everything is alien. Wait I don't think you get my drift, everything. Green tables with little ceramic salt and pepper shakers that look like little E.T's. There is this huge mural on one wall featuring a gleaming U.F.O meeting humans. The other wall is covered with articles about the crash of '47 and supposed alien "artifacts." There is even a huge stuffed alien sitting next to the cash register.
And I thought Rosa's was bad.
"Thank god" said a blond chick in a mint-green uniform with antennas on her head.
They were fake and I thought that the hair was too, and then I caught my reflection in the glass of the window and decided that I was not one to judge.
"Jose is not cooperating today," she stated giving a cold stare to the cook behind her.
"Buenos Dias, Jose" came the foreign words from Maria, perfectly enunciated.
Jose smiled at her and stuck his tongue out at the blond once she turned around.
"Give me five minutes, Izzy; is your dad in his office?"
"Of course"
Maria led me to the back of the small restaurant, more like a café, and into a smallish room that was supposedly Mr. Evan's office. The man behind the desk swiveled around and stole a quick glance at Maria then went back to his filing.
"What can I do for you Ms. Deluca?" he asked, nose still buried in his filing cabinet.
"We've been needing another waitress right?"
"Yeah"
"I've found one"
He turned his body to me and looked at me squarely in the eyes.
"You have any waitressing experience?"
"Year and a half" I replied smoothly
"What hours are you available?"
"Any time"
"Don't you have school?"
"Graduated"
"All right," he began, standing up quickly, "we have a new waitress"
Yeah, baby…
"You can work today with Maria, she will show you the ropes, get you acquainted with the Crashdown."
He turned to Maria.
"Ask Izzy for one of her extra uniforms, for, what is your name anyway?"
This was almost fun.
"Zoey Smith"
"So get a uniform for Zoey and show her around."
He turned back around and Maria led me out of the office.
"Don't I have to fill out any forms or anything?" I asked confusedly
"In a while, he's not to big on paperwork, that is why he's always in his office, he misplaces everything."
Maria led me over to one of the lockers and pulled out a replica of the blond's uniform, then pointed to the bathroom.
**5 minutes later**
I hate this uniform and I have only worn it for 3 minutes…that is SO not a good sign. I sigh. Mostly because this stupid thing has a skirt that is so damn microscopic. I walked out of the bathroom trying desperately to pull the skirt lower.
"Is this supposed to be so short?"
"Isabel's are" Maria replied grinning.
For the next few hours Maria led me around basically showing me what her duties were. Most of the time we chatted, she told me about her life and her boyfriend Michael. I made up this wonderful story about how I wanted to see the world but somehow ended up in Roswell instead…we both laughed at that. She asked where I was staying, I told her the truth and she offered a room at her house that her and her mother were trying to rent out. I took her up on it.
Just as the words left my lips my world came to an abrupt halt when the bell above the Crashdown's door jingled. I turned to look at who was coming in and honestly, the world shifted into molasses. Everything went slowly as two guys entered the café. I could care less about the one with spiky hair, but my eyes were glued to the guy with the dark brown eyes and cute ears. He looked at me too, to which I finally released my gaze and began to blush furiously.
"Michael!" came the happy squeal from Maria as she launched her small frame into the embrace of the spiky-haired guy, much to my relief.
"Zoey come here" I walked over and tried to stare at the floor.
"This is Michael," she said happily, squeezing him again in one of her hugs,
"And this is Max."
Max held out his hand and I moved in to shake his hand. The second our hands touched I had the weirdest sensation run thought my body. I found that coherent though was out of the question as I became lost in those eyes of his.
Maria noticed this and eventually dragged me away under the pretense of
"Customers"
She began to laugh once we were back behind the counter…
"What is so funny?"
"Shy Max finally has a crush," she said while grinning widely.
Here comes my dumb response.
"On me?"
Told you it was dumb.
She nodded her head.
"Customers, table 5" she pushed me over. Ugh. Two very large men were arguing.
"Welcome to the Crashdown, what can I get for you today?"
"Go away!" one of them snarled at me.
I turned around smartly and walked back to the counter. I hate rude people, they make my blood boil. I was about to go back to organizing the ketchup bottles, (SO much fun)…When I heard a scream as the two men stood up fast, one of them began to brandish a gun.
I heard a shot go off and then I was on the floor, staring at back of the counter. I couldn't think properly, my chest hurt a great deal. I placed my hand on the source of the pain and found only sticky warmth.
I raised the hand to face and was shocked to see it covered in bright crimson. My blood, why was I bleeding?
"Call an ambulance" I vaguely made out. It was becoming very hard to keep my mind in one place, I felt like I was floating away.
"Look at me!" I heard a strong voice order.
I found myself staring into the eyes of the guy who had managed to turn my world inside out. He placed his hand on chest and I could feel warmth flowing throughout my body, radiating outward from his hand.
(A small boy playing basketball with an older man)
(Three young children climbing out of what looked to be pods)
(A child holding a bird in his hands, unmoving, then suddenly it flies from his outstretched hands)
Suddenly I am back to the present and there is no pain. I stare back into his eyes, confused and overwhelmed. He grabs a bottle of ketchup from the shelf next to me and breaks it, pouring some on my shirt. He looked rather panicked.
"You fell and broke this," he said desperately.
I got up slowly as he turned and ran out the front door, jumping into a black jeep, Michael at the wheel.
I tried to hold my shirt together as two thoughts ran simultaneously though my head.
"What weird shit did I get into?"
And
"I
think I found my soul mate"