2.
"There's some chips in the back, if you're hungry," Peter offered after a while. Astrid glanced into the back, where Walter had seated himself as far away from her as he could, still watching her nervously. He suddenly thrust the bag toward her, as if to appease her so that she would not harm him.
"No, thank you," Astrid declined.
"Beef jerky? It's kind of peppery, but it's alright."
"I'm not really in the mood," Astrid responded distantly. Truthfully, she felt as if she were in a dream state, as the cool wind slid through her damp hair to caress her scalp, and the moonlit scenery that passed outside the wide station wagon windows became a blur. She slowly shook her head, shutting her eyes in the hopes to quell her odd feelings.
"It could be the after effects of the accident," Walter said, the first words he had spoken to her, and he suddenly shifted awkwardly as she faced him, "you're not feeling sleepy, are you?" He questioned gruffly, as he returned his gaze to the window, as if he were not ready to accept that she existed.
"No," Astrid admitted, "I just feel… strange. Like… calm. But not. Does that make any sense?"
"Miss, you have just been in what should have been, by all accounts, a fatal accident. Nothing will make since, not for a while," Walter said. Astrid found his comment strangely enlightening.
"We'll be alright when we've all settled our nerves," Peter said optimistically. He inhaled the cool breeze of movement deeply and quietly, and Astrid knew that he shared her unsettled feelings.
"So, where are you guys from?" Astrid questioned, "You're not locals, are you?"
"No, no," Peter said with a smile, "We're only on our way through, actually. We were headed for Snowflake."
"It seems like everyone here is passing through," Astrid agreed, "at least, at first, anyways."
"What about you? Do you live around here?"
"I guess you could call it that," Astrid sighed, and Peter chanced a glance at her.
"Not happy?" he questioned.
Astrid shook her head, "I guess I have to be, now. I mean, we both could have died, tonight… there must be a reason we're still here."
"Peter, I'm tired," Walter suddenly said.
"I know, Walter," Peter said, looking at him in the rearview mirror, "I am, too. I promise we'll find a place to stay as soon as we can, okay?"
Astrid noticed that Walter often touched his chest, when he was thinking, as if he were looking for something, "Okay," he responded.
"What about right there?" Astrid questioned, pointing to a road sign that shown white in the headlights, "The Casa del Sol?"
"Is it nice, there?" Peter questioned.
Astrid paused, "…I don't know. I know I've seen the sign before, about a million times… but I've never been there. I've never heard about anyone else going there, either."
"Well, it'll have to do," Peter said, taking the turn off, "I'm having trouble keeping my head up. You don't mind, do you? I'm sure they have a phone, there."
"No, it's perfect. Thank you."
"Casa del Bates," Walter mumbled as they passed the painted sign. His light tone of offered humor went unheeded.
The road seemed to wind suddenly between steep, red rock, dark grey, in the moonlight, and the hot, dry scent of the desert was swept away by the refreshing smell of wet sand. The air seemed to cool itself as the road traveled through a quiet palm grove, the headlights dulled in the dust from the dirt route. The drive suddenly widened, and they found themselves before the Casa del Sol.
The hotel appeared to have been constructed in the same fashion of an old, Spanish mission- the tall, straight angles of the walls were pale and smooth, the nearly flat arches of the roofs scaled with brick-red clay terracotta shingles. Astrid could swear that she could hear the faint, mournful gong of a church bell.
Peter pulled in and shut off the engine, sitting for a few moments in the dark, as if uncertain of what to do next. Finally, he gave Astrid a grin, "Nice pick."
"Yeah," she responded.
Walter seemed to give the hotel a similar look to the one he had given Astrid and Peter after the accident, fingering the ridged and slightly sweaty crew neck of his shirt.
"Well, let's go," Peter said, snapping free of his seatbelt and opening the door.
The soft wind was an audible hush, among the palms, adding to the strange serenity of the place, as they climbed the steps onto the wide, wooden porch. Wicker furniture and small, potted cacti decorated the places near the wide, double front doors, which opened before they had a chance to reach them.
The silhouette of someone holding a candle above their head met them, and the stranger exclaimed suddenly, bringing the taper down to cradle the flame away from the breeze with their palm. This illuminated their features- a woman with her hair loose about her shoulders and a welcoming smile on her face, "Hello," she said, still trying to protect the small light, but allow them enough visibility to cross the porch, "I thought I heard someone pull up. Welcome to Casa del Sol."
xXx
The first thing that he noticed was that there were no cobwebs, near the door. Walter admitted that even he thought that this was a strange observation, and he had a hard time grasping the significance of what his mind had pointed out to him, until other oddities began to surface.
No crickets.
No birds.
Nothing but the wind.
He suddenly felt as if his breathing were out-of-place, here, and chanced a glance back toward the car, as Peter made greetings with their host. Fear twinged the back of his neck, as he watched the shadows of palms silently sway over the sand, and the car appeared to have been devoured by them. Walter swallowed, rubbing his sternum.
Peter addressed him quietly, drawing his attention back to the situation at hand, "How are you doing? How are you breathing?"
"Alright," Walter responded, "I'm still a little sore."
"Well, I'm going to get us some rooms and have you rest up. I don't want you having another attack."
"Peter, why don't they have lights, here?" Walter questioned, still on edge.
"There's a blackout roaming the area- they say the power should be back up soon. Come on."
"Shouldn't we get some of our things from the car?" Walter asked uneasily, looking back at the station wagon again. The moon, in its shifting, had further steeped it in shadow.
"They'll be there in the morning," Peter took his father by the shoulders, leading him forward and through the front door. Walter strained his ears for even the distant keen of a coyote, before the night was shut out behind them.
xXx
The woman who had met them at the door lead them to the front desk, dimly lit in the light of a few candelabras. Her light hair seemed to glow, in the twilighting, "Hey, Charlie- I was right. There was someone," She smiled as she motioned to the awkward group of them.
A dark-haired man behind the desk raised his eyebrows as he got up from his seat, looking surprised, "Oh, hey," he said, "Welcome to Casa del Sol. Are you folks going to be staying with us, then?"
"For a bit," Peter responded.
Charlie chuckled, "Sure."
"Um, I won't," Astrid said with an uneasy grin, raising her hand slightly, "I just needed to use the phone, my car… broke down, hah hah."
"You're not together?" Charlie questioned, glancing between Astrid and Peter.
"No," Peter said with a grin, "Really, it's been kind of a crazy night."
"I'm sure it has," Charlie agreed, drawing up a large ledger and flipping it open, "well, I hate to be a killjoy, but this place is devoid of a phone, right now. A sandstorm recently came through and took down one of the relay towers."
Astrid cursed, and Peter put a hand on her shoulder, "Hey. Don't worry about it. Stay the night, Walter and I will drive you out in the morning."
"Thanks, but-"
"I said don't worry about it. You're bound to be just as tired as we are."
Astrid looked truly grateful, "Thank you."
"She can stay in my room," Walter offered suddenly. Then, he turned red, "I mean- I'll stay in your room, Peter. She can take the room I was going to use, I mean. It's her room, now." Walter cleared his throat, "Presumably. With equivalent exchange. N'stuff." and went to investigate a decretory plant across the lobby.
Peter chuckled, shaking his head as he delved into his pocket for his wallet.
Charlie suddenly shook his head, "Nah. We have a policy, here- you pay tomorrow. Sort of a quality assurance," Charlie smiled, "I just need you to sign the ledger, the three of you."
"Oh. Cool beans," Peter said, scribbling his name on the line and grabbing his key, "I'll probably need an ATM anyways."
Astrid signed, taking up her key without a word, and Peter turned to call to his father, "Walter! Come on over an sign in."
Charlie suddenly snapped the book shut, "It's alright, it's just for record. Enjoy your stay, at Casa del Sol."
xXx
