Peter Grist - Flashback

“No, wait! It’s not that, really!” she replied quickly, “it’s just, well I have… I have commitments, at home”.

“Okay, I understand, it’s no problem……” He said over his shoulder as he continued for the door.

Linda walked towards him, slopping the coffee down on the table as she went and put a hand gently on one of his forearms. Ed stopped and turned. She didn’t know what she was getting herself in to but she knew she wanted to see him again. There was something, something about this man that reminded her of Ben, her deceased husband; something in his eyes. Without thinking too much about the consequences she said, “No, it’s not that at all. I just can’t go out at short notice like that, but you could come round to mine… for a meal… tonight… if you wanted. I have food in; it would be no bother, really?”

It was his turn to look surprised. Well, he thought to himself, she must have a really understanding husband, but what the hell, he knew he needed help with this and from where he was standing she looked perfect for the job.

“Yes! That would be great, if you’re sure. But I don’t know where you live?”

She frowned then said, “Well, you’ll never find my place on your on, it’s out of the way a bit, on the other side of town, so come and meet me after I finish work at six can you, then you can follow me in your car?”

“Okay,” he replied with a beaming smile, “see you at six.” And with another glance at his wristwatch he dashed for the main doors.

The rest of the day went by slowly, visiting farms and small business’, tying up loose ends to the orders, even selling some extra equipment and software at a few places. He kept his summer jacket on all day to cover the cuts on his arms but there was no way he could cover the scratches on his face. He received many strange looks and even a few enquiries to his injuries from some of his bolder clients but a barely believable excuse of falling over the previous night into a hedge hardly quelled their curiosity. By four in the afternoon he was finished, he had time to take a shower, change and still be early to meet Linda. As he came back into town he spotted a liquor store called Moonshiners not far from his motel. He didn’t want to arrive at her home empty handed so he parked outside the store and made the quick walk to the door. A bell jangled over his head as he entered. A plump blonde woman squeezed into a dark blue cowboy shirt a couple of sizes too small for her carrying the logo of the store emerged from what Ed presumed was the stockroom out back. “Howdy!” she welcomed with a broad smile. “How can I help you?” Her expansive bosom was hardly contained by the tasselled cotton garment and her substantial bottom was also challenging the material of her matching skirt. The Moonshiners logo circumnavigated her left breast and the name ‘Tash’ struggled to climb the other. “Oh high, can I have a bottle of red wine please?” The woman’s smile faded a little. “Well, we don’t got much but it’s right over there.” she said, pointing behind the counter. Cooler’s lined three of the four walls and was stacked high with cans and bottles of beer. Along the forth wall on the left sat the long counter which protected the hard liquor from light-fingered customers, mostly bourbons, vodkas and some rum. Next to that was one small shelf with a dozen bottles of red and a dozen or so bottles of white wine. Ed raised his eyebrows at the lean selection. As Ed moved closer to the shelf to see what was on offer the storekeeper made her way round to the other side of the counter, flipping up a wooden flap at the end and squeezing in sideways through the gap. “We don’t get much call for wine,” she said apologetically. “The main grocery store has more if you don’t see nothin’ you like.” she added helpfully. Ed was not completely oblivious to overt signs from women on the rare occasions someone liked the look of him and Tash seemed to like what she saw regardless of the scratches on his face. She leaned over the counter casually with a coy smile on her bright red lips, offering Ed a glimpse of what he imagined the Grand Canyon would look like from a helicopter. “But let me know if you see anything you like”. Clearing his throat, he quickly pulled his gaze away from Tash’s seemingly bottomless cleavage and studied the few bottles of wine with keener interest than was required. Ed liked wine but rarely had the occasion to drink it but tonight he wanted to make a good impression, but not with Tash. He was hoping there would be at least one bottle from France but it took him seconds to see it was all American or Chilean. He glanced over the bottles again and recognised one of the Californian labels with that year’s vintage that he knew tasted good. “Oh, can I have that one please, the Cabernet with the picture of the river on it? He was pleased that he had found something palatable in the store and she seemed pleased that it was there. “For sure!” she replied happily as she straightened herself up again, “I just love the picture on that label!” she exclaimed. She deftly took the bottle from the shelf and wrapped it up in beige tissue paper then placed it in a single bottle brown paper bag. As she rang up the bill on her till she looked Ed directly in the eyes and with a theatrical wink asked “Anything else you need?” Ed quickly reached into his back pocket and withdrew a twenty from his wallet. “No, that’s all, thank you… err… Tash.” he said, glancing at her right breast for her name. She took the note and handed him back his change, lingering as she poured the few coins back into his palm. “If you find you need anything else I’m here til late”. Ed nodded and quickly made for the door, jingling the bell above. As the door closed itself behind him he stopped on the sidewalk and took a deep breath. With a wry smile he thought to himself ‘ That was close! ’ Back in his car, he placed the wine safely in the foot well among some trash that he promised himself he would clean out in the morning, started the engine, let the cool air wash over him then put it in gear and headed back to his room.

Ed parked in the same slot as before in front of the door marked 14. He was still amused by the encounter with Tash but as he unlocked his motel room and opened the door he looked up at the air-con unit and the smile slid from his face. The room was hot but he wasn’t tempted to turn on the unit. During the day he had tried to make the link between the noises he was hearing and the sudden attacks that followed. It didn’t help him understand why he was getting the headaches or the dreams if that was what they were, but the noises were all quite similar. The static on his radio, the air-con unit and the kid’s noisy cycle all sounded similar. That seemed to be the common denominator, the noise, but he couldn’t be sure. It was a noise that reminded him of a different time in his life, a sound from way back, walking through the jungles of Vietnam, the noisy chirp of chit-chats, the crickets, a constant companion, day or night. He walked to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and through his hair. For the first time, he had a chance to take a close look at the scares on his face. He knew damn well where he had got them, walking through the pine forest in his dream, but he didn’t want to dwell on that fact for too long. He glanced behind him, back into the room. Something didn’t seem right. He turned and looked more intently around his room. Everything seemed in its place, just where he left it, or was it? Probably house-keeping had been in, but the bed looked made, but as he had made it that morning. What was it? There was something. He looked at the doll sitting by the alarm clock. The doll was in the same place, but he was sure that when he had left her this morning the doll’s arms had been crossed, the way he always left her. Now they were lying by her side. A curious house-maid? Something told him it was unlikely, so who had been rummaging through his room? He walked over to the trash bin. The burger , wrappings and coffee cup from last night had been removed so someone had been in here. They wouldn’t have found the handgun as he had taken it with him in his car; it was in his glove box right now. He opened the draw to the bedside cabinet, the newspaper report about the missing girl was gone, and only the traveller’s bible remained. The proprietor of the motel, Sam Ryan was the obvious suspect, or maybe even Sheriff Rosen, but why? Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. Just time for a shower, change, and then head over to the library. If he was lucky, he might even have time to drop some clothes off at the nearest laundromat.