Something Dark and Disquieting This Way Comes

*** continued from previous post ***


Mom climbs off the bike and instantly her seat is wet. I don't think she cares anymore. She rummages around in the various articles that we've stowed and, after what seems like an eternity, finds the confirmation paper. It starts to get soaked immediately, so she folds it in half and hands it to me, trying to keep the printing dry. We don't need any more mishaps on this fine and beautiful day.

Triumphantly, and with a wag of my tongue in the general direction of the GPS, I unfold the note. HA! There is the confirmation. There are the dates. There is how we paid. There is, quite quizzically, no phone number. Perhaps I should have noticed that before.

No matter, there is an address. Oh yes . . . there is an address. Hope flushes through my system like Mentos in a Diet Coke. Rain had peppered my glasses and I squint to read the print in the dimming gray light. The address is . . . PO Box AB804, Carnack AB.

I swear I heard the GPS snicker.

"What’s the matter?" Mom asks but her tone says she really doesn't want to know.

"Well. Well, well, well." I brace myself, "Seems like the only address we have is a PO Box."

I can feel something building in your Mom. Something dark and disquieting. Something powerful and ominous and thoroughly unpleasant.


*** the journey continues 02/21/11***