Shadow

Chapter 3



Clearing my head didn't take as long as I thought it would, there were still four hours to sunrise and the hustle and bustle of the everyday world. I was utterly alone. The streets were empty, the only light was that of the yellow glow of streetlamps, most of which were broken on this end of town. All of the houses were dark, the families fast asleep in their beds. All of them at peace.
As I rounded to the next street there was a single light on. The gray ranch house belonged to Stacy Warren, the owner of Ma's Diner. She isn't the original Ma, her father opened the restaurant where her mother did all of the cooking, she was Ma. She made pancakes that could warm your soul, so flavorful and fluffy you had to hurry to put on syrup fearing they might just float off of your plate.
Stacy took the diner over when her parents died ten years ago. She dealt with the loss by putting everything into that place. Consequently, she was never married, she hasn't even had a steady boyfriend in all the years I’ve known her. She has the diner and her extensive library.
Because Stacy spends so much time at the diner her hours are almost as eccentric as my own, I decided to stop by and see how she was.
When I climbed the four steps to her front door and rung the bell she answered at once, "Hey, Shadow, what can I do for you at this time of night?"
Stacy is five foot two and thin, which surprises me because she eats almost every meal in a greasy diner. She has sandy brown hair like a paper bag got attacked by a highlighter. Her eyes are light brown and bursting with wisdom, so much so that you barely even notice they have a color at all.
Before I had a chance to answer she pulled me across the threshold into her entryway and into a hug. She was warm and filled a whole in my heart that was there for far too long. She told me to go sit at the sofa while she went into the kitchen to get a bottle of wine.
Her living room was drab and lacked the knick-knacks that really make a house a home. She didn't believe much in decorating a house she rarely used for anything but reading and sleeping. It was plain but it suited her. The only real decoration in the house were the bookcases, and the thousands of books that filled their shelves. Every kind of book you could ever want to read, from history all the way down to self-help.
As she returned to the living room with the wine and two glasses I said, “I’m just having a weird night, Stace.”
“How’s that?”
“You know those things I see sometimes, those glimpses I have? I think some of them are actually real.”
Stacy is one of the only people that knows about my visions. She says they are a sign from God that I must learn to see better, I’m not so sure God would do this to somebody. Sometimes I think that maybe I’m just crazy.
She poured some wine into my glass, cabernet. The aroma filled the room, sweet but pungent. I’m not a wine connoisseur by any means, if I had a five dollar bottle of wine and a thousand dollar bottle I would swear they were the same. But the cabernet soothed me at once, like a weight was lifted off of me. I drank the glass in two swallows. In retrospect it probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done. Once you pop…
Stacy refilled my glass and asked me what had happened. I told her about the dream, those green eyes, and about the shrouded figure that stood at the end of my bed. I told her everything in great detail, which is the only way she will hear a story. She refuses to let me leave out any details and I have no reason to think I should. As I recounted my story we finished half of the bottle of wine and I had a good head buzz going. The room started to feel like it was floating and it was a good change from the way my night had started.
She interrupted only once to ask me to repeat the part about the figure’s eyes. She either found it extremely interesting or important, I’m not sure which.
After my story I got the distinct impression that it was closing in on time for me to start off on whatever adventure lay ahead. I thanked Stacy for the wine and always being a good friend.
She walked me to the door and as I reached for the knob she put a hand on my shoulder to turn me around. I met her eyes, they dazzled with fear and hope. She had a tear gently rolling down her cheek and she put her arms around me in a hug I hoped wasn’t goodbye. She warmed my heart like those moms on TV. Those moms that hold their child in their arms and tell them how much they love them. I never knew that feeling until Stacy came into my life. She is only ten years older than myself but she has a mother’s aura about her, it would be sad if she never had any kids of her own.
“Protect yourself Shadow, and keep your eyes and ears open.”
“I will, I promise.”
Stacy walked me out the door and sat on the steps until I was down the street and out of sight. I heard her softly weeping as I walked away, that plucked a chord of fear within me that made me more weary about the day that lay ahead. If only I knew what I was getting into.