Cultivating the Holy by Orin Drake
It's... something, alright.

        Chapter 9


        They drove that Mustang like it was any other car--a fact that was killing Eric slowly on the inside.  It was a Mustang!  He should be able to tear up the road!
        Unfortunately, that kind of behavior was sure to get them both arrested, if not worse.  From Subaru to Mustang and there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about it.
        The sun was carefully falling into an evening sky when they finally stopped again for a bathroom break and to pick up something to eat.  It was surprisingly simple this time, in a sandwich shop at some travel center off the highway.  They ate inside the building that time, just for something different.
        Eric had found a map on the wall, admiring it from afar.  Keeping his voice low, he suggested, "Maybe I should just keep driving until we get there."  Frankly, anywhere near the desert sounded like a good idea.  If they kept to the main highway, they'd pass right through Arizona well by dawn, changing roads to wherever they wanted.  Maybe Sedona was nice...
        "You shouldn't exhaust yourself."  She suggested, unwilling to look over her shoulder at the map.  She'd catch a glance on the way out.
        "That's what coffee's for."  He responded, grinning.
        The mere mention of the dark, bitter liquid caused a shudder in her.  It was a good thing that she rarely needed the rest of sleep.
        "Oh, it's not that bad."  He joked.


 

        "Where are we going?" she finally ventured the question on her mind since leaving the sandwich shop.
        "We'll run right into a place called Flagstaff in about an hour or so."  He had stared at the map with the intent of memorizing it... but all he remembered was Flagstaff and Sedona.  Oh well, that wouldn't likely present a problem.  "I think we can stay there for the night, then go... wherever else we find."  The hotel would likely have maps.  It was close enough to the Grand Canyon to be a tourist trap, and tourists were always in need of maps.  And spoons and shot glasses.  One never knew when they'd need state-themed spoons or shot glasses.
        She stretched in her seat, glancing over at the small coffee that he'd gotten for her... that she hadn't touched.  He had insisted that it was called a "gas station cappuccino" (half coffee and half cappuccino from one of those automatic machines), and that they were "almost as good as cheesecake".  She hadn't believed him.  But, she had to admit... the cup was still warm to the touch and she was suddenly curious.  It hadn't smelled badly, at all... she just didn't trust Eric's taste after regular coffee.
        He watched out of the corner of his eye, enthused with how she poked at the waxed paper cup like a curious animal might attempt to comprehend something that appeared completely dangerous.  He'd moved on from the sweeter drinks long ago, going straight to heart of the black, caffeineated beverage... but he'd had the idea that maybe all she needed was the proper introduction.
        She remained careful, very slowly pulling the tab back from the cup's cover to take a deeper smell.  Not bad, certainly... just extremely different.  She could still smell the coffee, but it was nearly drowned out by something much sweeter.
        "French vanilla."  The driver spoke quietly, almost worried about scaring off her curiosity if he raised his voice any more.
        So you claim.  Her eyebrow raised slightly... then she grasped the cup fully, bringing it slowly to her lips... and drank.  The first taste was SWEET.  Then... something mildly spicy... right underneath the SWEET.  With another slow swallow, she truly tasted the drink, letting it slide down her throat and experiencing the aftertaste as one might do with a fine wine.
        "Well?" he couldn't help himself, seeing no indications in her face that he could read.
        Further putting on the appearance of a wine connoisseur, she swirled the cup around a bit to blend it all together and took another drink before responding.  "This is much better than coffee."
        He grinned widely, feeling exceptionally proud of himself.  "I'm glad to hear it."
        "You should be."  She teased, leaning back to enjoy the drink.  The inevitable shakes were almost worth it. 


 

        It didn't take long before the route became rather... puzzling.  The hills they had been venturing smoothly across were growing into small mountains, the temperature outside noticeably cooler through the windows.  Putting the heat on in the car in the desert... it seemed ludicrous.
        Glancing around, Eric got the distinct impression that northern Arizona was not the same Arizona he'd heard referred to as hot, dusty, and over-all very desert-like.  Only a few miles from Flagstaff (so the sign he'd just passed had informed him), he couldn't help but mumble exactly what was on his mind.  "Jesus Christ.  This is Arizona.  It's not supposed to be cold.  Or have pine trees."
        His passenger, however, had been staring out the window the entire time, taking in the sights.  There was something... about the place.  Something so mundane and nearly desolate on the surface, but... something much more alive underneath.  The air was different... but beyond that, there was simply something outside.  Perhaps not enough to dwell on, but certainly enough to attract her attention on the subject.  Some gut instinct told her to be aware, to listen.
        Finally arriving on the outskirts of the town, they didn't have to travel much further to find a bevy of hotels... and restaurants.  "And where would you like to eat?" Eric instantly brought everything back to food again.
        Charlotte would have glared at him... had she not found herself to actually be a bit hungry.  "Your choice."
        "Denny's!" he shouted excitedly, turning the wheel.
        She just had to hand the power over, didn't she. 


 

        They sat in the very back of the nearly abandoned, diner-style Denny's, waiting for their waitress to find them again and get them their drinks.  It was a nice place with a good smell and not too much activity; a place Charlotte could relax a bit, outside of the car.
        Until something tingled though her spine.  The feeling one got when they knew someone was staring at them.  Distinct and impossible to ignore.  She froze the first moment she felt it, only her eyes moving ever so slowly across the room, trying to find the one who was looking.  The idea of eyes that may have found her... nearly stopped her heart.  She wanted so badly to be able to say something, to give Eric an indication or an order to run, but time was too short and she'd discovered the watcher a mere heartbeat ago--
        It was at that moment, her eyes met another's.  An old woman with young eyes, all the way across the restaurant.  Then, suddenly... they weren't.  Quite quickly, they were growing closer.
        That was when Eric noticed an older woman of sun-worn skin coming toward them.  He was not... entirely certain of what to do, if anything should be done at all--but the gap between them and the woman had closed all too soon to escape.
        Not that it mattered, ultimately.  There were tears in the woman's eyes, a tremble to her features--and she threw open her arms to embrace Charlotte as if she'd known the girl all her many years.  Stranger still, there was no air of "crazy old bat" around her.  It seemed, extremely odd that it was, nearly... "natural".
        And for some reason... Charlotte relented to the touch.  Even returned it.  There was something about the woman... something so... familiar...
        "I see you."  The stranger sobbed softly into her hair.  "I see what you are."
        And that sentiment made more tears surface for both of them.  Eric, however... was either too surprised or disturbed to move for the moment.  He couldn't quite make up his mind about what he was feeling, or how he should react.  What he did know, though, was that they had to get out of there, food or no.  "Let's get to a hotel room."  He suggested in a whisper.  It would be much safer there. 


 

        He took the initiative, paying for a relatively nice hotel room (but not too nice, of course) in cash, telling the front desk that the two women were his mother and his little sister.  When the clerk simply stared at the vast differences between everyone's physical features and flesh tone, Eric quickly interjected with, "We're adopted."  Whether it had completely worked or not didn't matter--he got the keys and they went up to their room immediately.
        Door closed and locked, all windows inspected, all things seeming secured... he finally voiced the only thing going on in his mind.  Eyes carefully centered on the strange woman, he kept his tone even but stern.  Couldn't be too careful...  "How can you know?"
        She seemed truly surprised at the question, inviting herself to sit on the bed as she answered.  "How can you not know?"
        Well.  He supposed he actually had to agree with her on that.  Looking back at his "doctor days", he'd known, yes... but he'd shrugged it off.  Assumed it was just a fascination, an inkling, a desire perhaps to know a pretty girl.
        The woman turned to Charlotte, seeming full of a grandmotherly sweetness.  "But you're not... complete.  Not quite."
        The girl shivered, not quite knowing what to say.  So... maybe other things were just as obvious to certain people.
        "And who are you?" Eric demanded lowly, feeling the need to be extremely protective.
        "Sophie."  The woman introduced, completely unconcerned about the growl in his voice.  "You know, I've lived here all my life and I never have seen the inside of this hotel before..."
        Her change of subject came as a mild surprise, to put it lightly.  He didn't let it throw him off the path, though.  He supposed something like, "What are your intentions with my half-angel?" would have been a bit too direct, if not exceptionally rude to all parties concerned.  He was having a hard time forming a question that made any sense at all, in fact.
        "I'm not here to harm."  The woman's voice, as well as her eyes, became crystal clear.
        And, powers that be help him, Eric believed her somehow.  Maybe it was the feeling he got off of her... almost that she could read his intentions, but without the desire to use them for her own purposes.  An odd thought to have, but one that his deepest instincts could not deny.  "Then what are you here for?" he inquired softly, his tone still uncertain.
        She noted his mild accusatory tone with hardly a blink.  It wasn't as if she didn't understand where he was coming from.  It seemed to her that he and the girl had been together for quite some time.  "Well, I hadn't planned on this happening."
        The sheer surprise of Charlotte having broken into the conversation assured that her question, as well as its context, was certainly heard.  "What do you know?"
        The newly introduced Sophie turned to face the girl, taking only a moment to properly compose her answer.  "Scriptures.  Well, hidden scriptures.  Not to mention my own intuition."
        The answer was no more solid than the situation itself... and Eric protested quietly, making an annoyed sound under his breath.  Everything about what was going on at that moment worried him.  Really, thoroughly scared him; that someone could so quickly and easily recognize her for what she was...
        Sophie went on, seeming to read his mind through his sour expression.  "I was looking for something out of place, though.  Were I not a person to do that regularly, I may have missed her.  I think perhaps she may need another appearance."
        The swirling, leaping subjects that the strange woman was presenting was eerie enough.  The fact that she was right about them all was almost too much.  "And what would you suggest?"
        The woman turned completely to Charlotte, addressing her entirely.  "You'll probably have to change your appearance.  Hair color, clothes, make-up... as much as you can."
        "Not make-up."  Eric protested; looking a bit embarrassed about having spoken up after the fact.  It was just that he couldn't bear the thought of hiding her natural beauty under all that... teen-aged whore stuff.
        Sophie smirked a little. "Lip gloss, then.  A little blush.  Something to hide the paleness."
        Well, he couldn't argue with that...  He took a long look at the girl gazing back curiously, trying to picture her in other clothes.  "What color would you like your hair?"
        Having choice in the matter was a new and interesting thing--not to mention somewhat exciting.  "Black."  She responded almost immediately.  "And purple."
        He felt his jaw drop, just a little.  "You're kidding."
        Sophie slapped her knee and chuckled warmly.  "No one will suspect that!"
        The travelers supposed that was the point at which they felt a little more... trustworthy of the woman.  Her reaction seemed genuine enough.  There was a clear insanity in their suddenly trusting a stranger... but without speaking it to one another, they both sensed... something of the woman.
        And just like that, the newcomer shattered the silence with a well-placed self-invitation.  "We'll venture to the mall in the morning and get everything you need."
        Eric couldn't help himself.  "We?"
        "Why not?" Sophie almost seemed to pout.  "You paid for the place, there are two beds and a couch.  Be charitable."
        That last comment had included an interesting sort of non-wink.  Crafty woman.  "Now, let's get introduced properly."  She stood up, advancing a step toward Eric.  "You are?"
        While he still felt the urge to bite at the inside of his cheek with nervousness about the whole damn thing... he extended his hand.  "Eric."
        Sophie grasped it, shaking thoroughly and nodding politely.  "Pleased to meet you, Eric."  With that, she stepped toward Charlotte with a held breath.  "And you?"
        "Charlotte."  She introduced easily, finding the extension of her hand a bit awkward due to never having done it before.
        The woman grasped it softly anyway, holding it rather than shaking.  "Pleased to meet you, Charlotte."  Glancing back at Eric, she suggested just as naturally as anything else, "How about some room service?"
        He grinned in spite of himself.  Not that he cared to admit it.

Content copyright Orin Drake 2011.
Use without linking back to the source makes you a dick.