Starman

"Are you sure this is all that you have?" Angela asked.

"I'm sorry Ms., but this is it." Angela Ziegler, standing in the middle of three mirrors, turned and looked at herself in the booth. What she saw was decent, it fit reasonably well, and she didn't look too awkward in it, but that didn't change the fact that what she was wearing was a tuxedo. Reading her body language, the clerk standing beside her and checking to make sure that everything was on correctly then added, "I wish I had something else for you, but, like I said, it is wedding season."

Angela's change of heart after speaking with her Pastor had prompted her to act fast. Surely, Emilee's open invitation to the doctor was done in good nature, but neither she nor Angela had really considered the time or distance to make the arrangement possible. Cancelling all of her appointments and rushing everywhere she went, Angela returned home, threw a garment bag and travel suitcase together and made her way to the airport. She took the first of many flights to get from Oasis, Iraq to London, England. If three days of transit while booking any available flights wasn't laborious enough, the first clear sign of the struggles to come happened when her luggage was lost during layover in Munich.

But, panicking in a stressful situation didn't help. She had her shoes, she had her money, and she had herself, so although a major setback, she just had to remain calm and work through it. Arriving in the UK, she rented a car and made her way into the countryside. It was after that when she heard a phrase that she would soon learn to despise.

Blake's Fancy Dress Rental and Alterations seemed like something out of a film, the essential small town business owned and operated by an old married couple. Located two towns over from where the wedding was, it seemed that the crossroad-town store would be the answer to her lost luggage issues.

But, that was before she learned that it was wedding season.

Although the store staff smiled and said they could help with her wardrobe woes, her problems were just beginning. Being tall and with a large bust line didn't leave many options to their limited leftover inventory, and as she had been trying on the dresses, most either didn't fit or looked too much like some sort of slutty prom dress and would need major alterations to look presentable.

After getting redressed in normal street clothes once more, she exited the changing room to the waiting staff, carefully handing back the dress that didn't fit and awaiting to see what else they had to offer, but after seeing the clerk scratching the back of his head, she came to realize that there were no options left.

Then, like a knight in shining armor, a small woman, about sixty-five years of age, came out from the back. Pushing aside the curtain to the alterations department and carried a black garment bag before her like a large dinner platter. Angela, seeing her last hope, graciously took the black covering into the changing room and unzipped the container, revealing… a tuxedo.

Well, to call it just a tuxedo would be a little too much charity, it was a women's magician outfit altered and reassembled to look like a tuxedo. The nicest thing about it was that the jacket itself, having been meant for a woman's chest instead of a man's pectorals, was that it fit well on top. The ensemble had a turn-down shirt with black buttons, which fit around her neck well enough, but judging from the feel of the hemline scratching down her legs, the satin stripe trousers felt as if they had just been altered to be tighter for a woman's leg.

The clerk's eyes traced his customer, being more comfortable correcting men who had never worn a tuxedo before and eyeing for flaws in the unit. Meanwhile, Angela eyed the suit in the mirror. Although the worry was visible on her face, it was clear that her nose didn't spontaneously turn into a squeaky red ball nor that her hair turned into a rainbow wig, so she didn't look like a complete clown.

She twisted and turned, feeling the clothes and testing her range of motion. This hadn't been the first time she had worn a suit, and she along with other women in her field had worn tuxedos for a charity benefit before as well, but that didn't make it feel right. She could still feel the hidden pockets and compartments inside of the jacket, and the padding on the shoulders almost made her feel like a professional athlete.

"How does it feel?" the man asked.

Terrible, was the answer. But Angela was still quiet. Everything in her mind was trying to tell her that this was a bad idea, that what she was doing was just… unnatural. But at the same time, she really didn't want to walk out empty handed, drive hours back to the nearest metropolitan area to find an alternative just to be turned down once more because, "It's wedding season."

Pulling the curtain back from her domain, the old woman from before approached the clerk and guest standing at the mirror. Through big glasses, she looked at the woman in a tuxedo and hopped where she stood when she saw something that piqued her interest. Pulling over a stepping stool, she approached the doctor and got to about shoulder high on the woman. Pulling a black ribbon from her pocket, she pulled the bowtie loose from the doctor's collar and then strung and tied the ribbon in a loose bow around her neck.

"Much better?" the seamstress asked.

Angela gave a sigh, not believing she was about to say it, but answered, "Yes."

In what seemed like a stroke of good luck, The Mosey Inn had one vacant room left. It was structured like the typical motel, only being two stories tall and having every room open up directly outside to the parking lot.

Angela, holding a physical key instead of a magnetic card, slid the key into the door and entered her room.

Not having much in the way of luggage, she wheeled her carry-on bag into the room while the garment bag with her rented evening wear was slung over her shoulder and held by two fingers. After getting through the doorway, she slid the rolling carry-on so that it could stand on its own and opened up the nearby closet door to hang the garment bag. After that, she walked to the far side of the room and took a seat at a chair in the corner.

It was amazing how sitting for long periods of time could be so exhausting, flying in a plane, waiting at an airport, driving in a car, and for as ironic as it was, the only way to cure the fatigue was to take a seat once more and rest. Breathing in a sigh of relief, she pulled her purse over and removed some of her belongings, the first of which was the itinerary of the wedding. Angela couldn't imagine what Lena had thought she had done upon seeing the list of activities for her wedding day, be it ripping it in half and throwing it out a window, dousing it in holy water before shoving it down a garbage disposal, or burning it on a plate of incense while praying at the cross, but the reality of it was that even after the realization of the trouble the little card had caused, Angela had kept it on the sideboard in her kitchen. Checking the time on her watch, she had assumed that the wedding party must have completed the rehearsal ceremony, and if she had the time right, then chances are they were now making their way to the rehearsal dinner.

It was then that the thought occurred to her that she should probably give Emilee a call. She had called to confirm that she had changed her mind and was now coming, and it seemed that it would be practical to inform her that she had landed safely and was in the area. Although her body was still in limbo from the jetlag, she may even be able to attend the rehearsal dinner and start meeting the other attendees of the ceremony. Maybe then she could meet… Lena.

Her mind froze at that moment. Her presence here… It almost felt like she was walking out of surgery to inform someone that she was unable to save their loved one. It didn't matter which way she thought of it or considered it in her mind, everything felt wrong. All the trouble she had caused, the very last minute trip half way around the world to go to an event she had spent about half a year preparing not to attend, it didn't matter which way she decided to announce her arrival. Be it showing up at the informal dinner party, the ceremony, the reception, the day after, or just calling her right now, it just felt… wrong. If anything, the only appropriate thing to do would be to get on another plane and fly home and try to pretend that none of this ever happened.

She shook her head. No, this was no time to back out now. Emilee seemed to be a normal woman, and most likely she had already told Lena that Angela was coming. Angela just needed to calm down and focus. Still, calling them to let them know that she had arrived would be the courteous thing to do.

Angela grabbed her phone and was about to go to her contacts, but then decided that she may want to hold on for just a moment before declaring that she was all set. Rummaging through her purse once more, Angela pulled out a small blacklight and rose from the chair.

Having spent more than enough time traveling had taught her that there was always time to check hotel rooms out before settling in. With the amount of horrible things she had heard about bedbugs, she had every reason to be cautious. Walking past the bed, she made her way to the bathroom, wanting to wash her hands for good measure before inspecting the room for cleanliness.

No sooner had she opened the door that she caught sight of scurrying insects across the tile floor, hiding from the light of the sun. Within 3 minutes, all of her possessions were out of the room and Angela was back at the front desk.

Hours later and now having driven to a whole other town, Angela took a seat in her new hotel room and took a moment to collect herself. For as bizarre as it sounded, it seemed like she had secured the last vacant room in all of the English countryside. This hotel, a Marriot Hilton, was quite new and was actually closer to the events of tomorrow, but had been a much further ride away from where she had come from. The room itself was quite large, almost the size of a decent apartment in a city, and the price of which showed as such. There were two beds with folded white sheets and plush pillows on them. The carpet was soft and white, matching the walls and ceiling, while a dark oak accent lined the perimeter of the walls.

She really wished that she hadn't had to rent such an expensive and extravagant room, but then again, she didn't know why she was surprised when the receptionist answered her bewilderment over their vacancies by stating that it was wedding season.

She checked the time again, it was getting late now. The wedding party was undoubtedly getting ready for bed at this hour, and she herself had already grabbed dinner in her search for shelter for the night, so on top of the jetlag and mixing fast food with airline food, she really needed to settle down now. Having already checked the room for sanitation, Angela rose and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She had already checked the bathroom to make sure that it was suitable for her level of cleanliness, and everything was satisfactory. The shower curtain was white and held no stains, the sanitary sheet behind it also looked to be new and didn't have any mildew. Toilet and sink were both spotless, and thankfully, no signs of bugs anywhere.

She stepped inside, and like stepping on the ice at a skating rink, the doctor's first foot slid forward half a foot length, making her body go tense and hair stand on end. The tiles, being new and freshly lacquered, were incredibly slippery. It had been the second time Angela had slipped on them, and she didn't know if it was her low energy or carelessness that had made her forget it. Regardless, she stepped with even footfalls on the tiles and made her way to the sink and rummaged through her toiletry bag. There, she removed a traditional toothbrush and travel sized toothpaste and got to work. As she brushed her teeth, her eyes drifted from the spotless mirror in front of her to the rest of the amenities on the marble sink and countertop. Sitting on the far side of the countertop was a machine that looked like a coffee maker. It was just a little larger, and instead of a clear glass coffee pot, it was made of dark, see-through, plastic. On the front it read, "Ice O Matic". Sure enough, on the inside of the plastic container were frozen molds of ice filling out the body of the device.

"An automated icemaker for the room?" she thought, "Interesting." It looked convenient, and the container was sealed to the ice maker, but as she thought on it, she began to wonder if having an icemaker meant for human consumption so close to a toilet like this was actually sanitary.

Soon afterwards, she finished with her teeth, and after changing into a spare set of underwear and undershirt that she had purchased at a supermarket, the doctor finally went to bed. Before she finally flipped over onto the pillows, she took her phone and set an alarm for herself. Lena and Emilee's wedding would be in the early afternoon, so with the time it took to get breakfast, get ready, and get to the location, she set the alarm for nine o' clock of the next morning.

Finally, with the lights out and alarm set, she conjoined her hands in prayer and closed her eyes. She prayed for her family, for her friends, and also for Lena and her soon to be spouse, but most importantly, she prayed for forgiveness for herself, for as she thought more and more on it, she was questioning herself about why she was here to begin with.

With that, she closed her eyes and tried to relax, but no sooner had she tried to drift off to sleep, the darkness approached within her mind. As her thoughts drifted, doubts and worries began to take center stage in her subconscious. Worries of what would happen tomorrow, the worst case scenarios, the bother of things going wrong and what she would do if that happened. Part of it was spurred on by the previous few days' poor diet, while also the last of her stress-energy from Jet lag.

Her mind focused on her attire, and began to wonder about her legs. She was going to be wearing trousers tomorrow, did that mean that she didn't have to shave her legs? If she didn't, it would save much time, and afterall, chances are nobody would notice. Then, her mind went to her hair, and then her makeup, indecisiveness on what she did or didn't have to do.

After having enough of the doubting, Angela opened her eyes and got to her phone once more, cancelling the alarm and then starting another one, taking the previous time and moving it back two hours. Satisfied with the extra time to get ALL of her routine done, the doctor set the phone down and closed her eyes once more. With that, the darkness in her mind was settled, and she finally began to drift off to sleep.

With one final thought, she smiled, thinking over the silly metaphors of the English language. "Wedding Season". What did that even mean? She supposed that it meant that many people wanted to get married at the same time of the year, but why would they call it that and not something else? From the sounds of it, it almost made her think that there were going to be men with guns hiding off in the distance watching the party, and when the time came they would dress up in some sort of disguise to shoot wedding guests and then have them hung on their wall as trophies.

With that silly thought on her mind, Dr. Zieger finally drifted off to sleep. After such a long ordeal, her rest was deep and dark. So lost in her thoughts was she that she didn't even notice the word "Start?" blinking on her phone.

Angela awoke to sunlight. The slight burn to her eyes caused her to roll over and away from the windows. From there, she closed her eyes once more, drifting back off to sleep. The bed was fantastic, she would have to find out where the hotel got these sheets and mattress from and possibly see if she could order herself one. She took a deep breath and was about to go back to sleep, but something seemed… off. Like a fancy restaurant trying to serve delivery pizza or someone flashing their car lights on the road at her, all seemed well, but something in her mind was telling her that she was missing something.

Then more of her mind began to come to the realization that something was not right. More and more, she began to pick up on things, details that shouldn't be happening, paranoid thoughts screaming out for her to panic, and on the opposite side of her mind, something was telling her to calm down, to get rest and that everything was going to be alright.

Finally, the doubts said something that she couldn't ignore. If she set the alarm to go off early, then why was the sun out?

Then the calm side rebuked, "If it was too late, then why hadn't her alarm gone off?"

Both sides dwelled on that question, and finally, Agela opened her eyes and grabbed the phone at her nightstand. The alarm was to be set for 7:30 in the morning. It said so on the display, but not even taking in the rest of the device, Angela looked up in the corner of the display, and looked at the time.

11:07

"Scheisse, schiesse, schiesse!" she shouted, throwing the sheets off.

Immediately, she ran to the bathroom and turned the shower on, turning and then getting her toothbrush and furiously scrubbing her teeth as fast as she could. The warm water steamed up the mirror, and the automatic fan began turning. With condensation on the tiles, Angela threw off her underwear and made her way to the shower, but no sooner that she set her foot in the sparkling wet tub that the sweat and steam met. Like Newton's second law decided that it wasn't going to work in that moment, Angela's foot slid across the tub, sending half of her body airborne.

There was a second of clarity, a brief moment of omnipotence, almost like what some of her patient's had described as their life flashing before their eyes. The warm steam, the fine white glazed paint on the ceiling, the sound of every droplet of water as it hit the pooling bath in the tub. In that indistinguishable point in time, Angela felt like she was out of her body, feeling every single piece of information that all of her senses detected as she was weightless in the air. Her fingers felt every single stitch of fabric on the shower curtain, and her nails felt the invisible residue of the plastic sheet as they dug into it. The bar holding the curtain broke, falling down and becoming a gown of crème in air as she fell.

Then time resumed, she collided with the slippery tiles in a wet and dull thud, and last but definitely not least, her leg smacked against the side of the shower, causing a massive shock of pain to shoot through her body as her ankle recoiled into a ball of hurt.

She bellowed in pain, if anyone had been outside of her room, they would have probably tried to find a way in and help. Angela, lying on the floor wrapped in the sheet, did all she could to breathe and not scream out in agony. Her ankle, propped up on the side of the tub, made her twist and turn, finally freeing her leg so it could roll up and into her body, but no position taken alleviated the pain.

Her mind panicked, although the pain was a biting presence in her thoughts, every second she sat on the floor was another that she was late, ruining the reason why she was here in the first place. Even if she could get up, how was she going to get dressed, or drive, or stand, or kneel, or walk? She didn't know what to do!

Finally giving the will to move a chance, Angela reached up to the slippery tub, grabbing ahold with her hand and pulling herself up. Wounded leg still up to her chest, she got into a sitting position with the shower curtain around her chest. She sat there for a moment as the shower continued to run. This was it, the end of the journey. She supposed that it really was the thought that counted. She could call and say that she fell and couldn't make it but wished that she could, and that ultimately would be the excuse that she was looking for. She tried, and hopefully Lena would accept that she would have come if she had the ability to, but it looked like instead of attending a wedding, Angela would spend it sitting in her hotel room nursing her leg.

She was in no position to diagnose herself, but judging from the pain that she was in, it was not an ACL or Achilles tendon injury. After twisting to get a look at it, the wound looked to be a nasty sprain and possibly a pulled muscle. The lump felt big, and although purple, it wasn't the worst thing that could happen.

It was at that point that she looked up, just blankly staring at the countertop in front of her thinking of what to do next when the Ice O Matic caught her eye. Nearby was her purse, its contents memorized like scripture. Finally, and she herself could hardly believe it, she had an idea.

She tucked her good leg in and braced both hands against the lip of the bathtub, barred her teeth, and slowly began to stand. Seeing the determined look in the eyes of her reflection, she set her pulsating foot down and fought through the pain. She didn't know if what had just happened was a warning to stop, a test and lesson on perseverance, or just some incredibly unfortunate accident. All she did know was that all throughout her life, her faith in the Lord had given her strength, and she sure as hell hadn't gone this far to give up now.