The young man smiles
“We have some great compact cars available, just ....”
The young man introduces himself as Doug. He and Miren hash out the details and sign the paperwork. They go outside to do a quick inspection of the vehicle, a Grey Toyota Corolla
“I wish I had better news about lodging” Doug says “But you’ve come into town at peak leaf season. This weekend will be busy. If you don’t mind slightly older accommodations, down on the Southside off Halifax Rd is the Old Country Inn. Most of our visitors don’t like the fact that it’s old, but the owner Jeremiah keeps it clean and his rates are good. If you want a hotel they’re mostly up near Waterville Valley. “
Leaf season? Mirren thinks as Doug explains the local hotel situation, her mind crazily equating it with elk season or deer season. She refocuses on the matter at hand as Doug wraps up his speech.
"Cheap and clean sounds fine by me. Car looks good, too. Thanks for the help, Doug. See you in a couple of weeks when I turn the car back in." She offers her hand to seal the deal, then pulls carefully out of the lot, heading south to Halifax Rd and keeping an eye peeled for the Old Country Inn.
Once there, she drives around the place, checking out the quality of the cars in the lot and making sure nothing about the place looks disreputable or uncomfortable for a single woman.
If she's satisfied, she parks near the office and heads in to secure a room.
If she's satisfied, she parks near the office and heads in to secure a room.
Miren notes the place does look a bit elderly, but not particularly menacing .
Miren notices the car in the front of the Inn is familiar. She could swear she saw it in the parking lot of the diner she had gotten lunch at back in Manchester
Hmmm. Miren stops when she sees the familiar car. Looks like we could have gotten a ride here instead of taking the bus, Yázhi. Do you see anything here? Miren concentrates on seeing anything unusual beyond the reality of this parking lot, scanning the area.
Nace sets his phone aside. Old Country Inn it is, then. At least this trip won’t break the bank.
He shifts his SUV into drive and pulls back into the street, his GPS navigating the way to the inn.
Miren/Yázhi notes the old barn/stable/garage in back has a slightly off aura. It’s pretty far to tell, but she gets the feeling something dwells within it
Nace sets his phone aside. Old Country Inn it is, then. At least this trip won’t break the bank.
He shifts his SUV into drive and pulls back into the street, his GPS navigating the way to the inn.
The hotel sits at the other end of town, about a thirty minute trip from the posh neighborhood of Elliot Drive. Nace arrives and parks at the old hotel.
Hmph. Live and let things be dead. We get a room, don't go barging into others' homes.
Scalp prickling from the nearby presence, Miren pulls open the wooden door. It's not the worst place she's ever seen. The question from the desk clerk brings her up short.
"Reservation? Do I need one? I thought I could just come in..." There's a hint of panic in her voice.
The man makes a placating gesture
“Oh you certainly can, miss! I just didn’t know if you called ahead. “
Miren catches a glimpse of the young woman she met at the diner. She is just disappearing up the stairs to the next floor
Miren watches the young woman go without calling out to her. Her scalp still prickles. Things are converging. The presence within stirs uneasily. No, nothing to fear. We can't be afraid of everything, child. The river just is, it's not malicious. We go where it takes us. Besides, Pru and her cat weren't scary, were they?
Shaking off her apparent reverie, she faces the man and smiles weakly. "No... no, I didn't call. I'd like a room, please, for at least a week, maybe two, if you've got one. Uh... just me.?"
Nace pulls into the Inn and parks his car. He grabs his backpack out of the back seat and heads for the door. Scanning the cars in the parking lot, he does a double-take when he spots Pru’s old Chevette. There can only be so many of those on the road, he thinks with some disbelief.
He heads to the door to speak with the reception desk about a room.
The man smiles and holds out an old ledger
“Absolutely. I have a lovely single on the third floor....He goes into his spiel, and Miren gets a key after her card is swiped and she signs in.
The hotel has no elevator, and the stairs creak as Miren walks up. She makes it to the third, which is the top floor Her single is a small oddly-shaped room tucked underneath at steep eaves of the house. Miren can almost feel the layers of history, the possibly two-hundred plus years of living that soaks into a building, like the pueblos she’d visited. The small window looks out on a brilliant red sunset catching the multi-colored treetops aflame. Gentle rolling hills dominate, and the silvery thread of the river that runs through the center of Halifax can be seen through the patchwork of forest and farmland
The sloping ceilings and chopped up floor plan of her temporary home make Miren more comfortable than any fancy accommodations. She slings her bag on the bed and stretches hugely, then squeezes into a dormer to watch the sunset.
As the light fades to grey, she turns back to the room, switching on a lamp which bathes the room in a warm yellow glow. She stands a moment in concentration, until the silvery figure of a little girl shimmers into existence in front of her. She smiles down at the child.
"We're here. Look around if you want while I unpack."
The child remains glued to her elbow until Miren opens her bag and pulls out the tattered rabbit. She sets it gently atop the small chest of drawers, then spreads the pamphlets next to it. "There you go. What would you like to do while we're here?"
Miren spends the next few minutes unpacking while the ghost child pets the rabbit and wanders. She stows clothes and pulls off her boots with a sigh of relief. After her hat and poncho are brushed and hung and the toiletries are arranged in the tiny bathroom, she returns to the table. The Santa's Village brochure has been slid to the front, away from the rest. Miren chuckles.
"I figured."
Rolling into town, Miyuku stops outside a row of shops, lifting the visor of her helmet to take a deep breath of the air, so very different from New York....or Tokyo for that matter.
The ride up was enjoyable, and actually rather beautiful the closer she got, leaving behind the steel and glass for trees, fresh air and woodsmoke. It oddly reminded her a bit of Hokkaido.
Dropping the kickstand, she removes her helmet and taking the keys, saunters over to the yoga studio, figuring to gather the lay of the land, so to speak.
The yoga studio operates in one of the small Main Street shops. Miyuku spots faded lettering above the big window that reads Whelan TV repair. The window itself is plastered with posters of smiling yoga practitioners and advertisements offering Fall special rates and Weekend packages.
Miyuku opens the glass door and a small chime goes off. There is a small area with a cash register and credit card processor along with a rack of various pamphlets on yoga, spirituality, and local tourist stops. A middle-aged woman in a leotard and a long Grey braid of hair walks out from a back area hidden from sight by a beaded curtain.
“Good afternoon! How may I help you?”
"Good Afternoon!" Miyuku replies warmly speaking without a trace of an accent (a noticeably unique trait in itself), inclining her head slightly. "I just arrived in town and thought I'd have a look around. The energy felt good here, so I suppose I decided to pop in here first." she says with a nonchalant shrug.
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Prudence smiles at the man. "I don't have a reservation sorry, no. It was really an impromtu trip, and your town looked so nice on my way through that I thought I'd spend some time here."
After a brief exchange between herself and the man, she takes a key from him and heads up the stairs to find her room, Madfdet slinking along in the shadows ahead of her. Nearing the top, she gets a tingling on the back of her neck, similar to what she felt in the diner. Pausing at the top, she has a quick glance behind her to see the artist from the diner at the front desk. "Interesting," she whispers to herself as she turns down the hall towards her room, the cogs already spinning in her head. "Mafdet, could you keep an eye on our friend for me," she says as she reaches her door and inserts the key into the lock. *mwrow* comes the reply, and the small shadow slinks off back towards the lobby.
[dice=Perception]1d20+5
Nace pulls into the Inn and parks his car. He grabs his backpack out of the back seat and heads for the door. Scanning the cars in the parking lot, he does a double-take when he spots Pru’s old Chevette. There can only be so many of those on the road, he thinks with some disbelief.
He heads to the door to speak with the reception desk about a room.
The desk man looks to be in a cheerful mood as Nace approaches
“A room? Certainly! I am getting a bit booked up, but I have a few singles left on the third floor. Let me see ...”
They arrange the price and a key is exchanged. The hotel is old. It’s Seventies restyle is obviously just the most recent of many makeovers. The foyer sports a massive fireplace with what look to be authentic bread ovens built in. The roof is early 20th century pressed tin. The wood of the staircase is wide pine boards, the kind you can’t get any more because trees of that size don’t exist in these forests any longer. Everything looks worn down, but clean.
Nace heads to the third floor. The sun has set, and he thinks he sees a cat slink through the lobby shadows as he climbs the stairs. His room has an odd slant to the roof, as it is tucked under the eaves. The small former window looks out over a darkened countryside. Lights illuminate the spaced-out houses and a cluster of lights outline the main core of Halifax
"Good Afternoon!" Miyuku replies warmly speaking without a trace of an accent (a noticeably unique trait in itself), inclining her head slightly. "I just arrived in town and thought I'd have a look around. The energy felt good here, so I suppose I decided to pop in here first." she says with a nonchalant shrug.
The woman smiles and gives a slight bow
“I am always pleased to meet new friends. Welcome to the Halifax Sangha Yoga Center. I am Traci Whelan-Marks, the owner”
The woman reaches out to shake Miyuku’s hand
... she returns to the table. The Santa's Village brochure has been slid to the front, away from the rest. Miren chuckles.
"I figured."
Santa’s Village is close to Halifax, only about a 20 minute drive according to the brochure
Reaching out to shake Traci's hand, Miyuku considers giving a false name for only a fraction of a second. "Miyuku Saito. It's a pleasure to meet you Traci."
Traci has a firm grip, and Miyuku can see lean muscles corded on her forearms. She says something in Japanese
Japanese
Her smile broadening, Miyuku replies.
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Traci continues in Japanese.
"I'm from here originally. My family was one of the founding ones. The Whelans owned the paper mill up until the Seventies. I was blessed enough to be able to travel in my youth, and I went all over Asia and the Middle East. I stayed in Kyoto and studied there and supported myself as an English teacher.
"So what brings you to our lovely town?"
Nace makes his way to his room and looks over his accommodations. It’ll do, he thinks. He washes up in the bathroom before returning to the contents of his backpack. He packed lightly, but even so he figures it would be wise to bring in the other items from his car before he turns in for the night. Halifax doesn’t seem like the kind of place where car burglaries are a major concern, but all of his years living in Bridgeport have left him uncomfortable with the idea of leaving anything in his car for any length of time.
He briefly considers unpacking his clothes, and then decides against it. The room is clean enough, but hotel housekeeping always half-asses the dresser drawers. Besides, he mostly packed t-shirts, sweatshirts, and jeans - and plenty of clean underwear. It’s not as if he is going to be ironing.
He checks the mirror on the wall once again, running his hand through his hair. If anything, that just made it messier, but he is used to that look. He adjusts his belt - his sidearm in its holster fixed to his hip - and heads back to the check-in desk. He hopes that the clerk can give him some tips on where to get a reasonable dinner in town.
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Feeling the day's sweat as a layer of grime over her skin, Miren shucks her clothes, unbraids and brushes her hair, and hops into the shower. Clean and refreshed, she rebraids her wet hair, moisturizes and considers going to sleep, but the barn and its occupant(s?) nag her.
Maybe it has a history or something... heck, maybe someone weird lives in there and was looking at me from the darkness inside.
Since it's too early to turn in, she pulls on underthings, loose basketball shorts that brush the bottoms of her kneecaps, and a baggy t-shirt. The idea of stuffing her feet into shoes is most unappealing, so she pulls on fuzzy slipper-socks.
"Come on, yázhi, let's go talk to Jeremiah - or maybe not. The owner might be at the desk of a place like this. Let's go find out about that barn."
The ghost child rejoins Miren with a smile, and she slips quietly down the hall and down the stairs.
Hearing someone in the lobby, she peeks in to see the man from the diner, and ducks back behind the wall.
S&+&! It's the guy from the diner! After the initial panic, she calms down and thinks more rationally. And why not? So what? No reason to hide from him. And I will definitely impress him with my glamor and fashion sense.
Squaring her shoulders and raising her chin, she walks into the lobby (nodding to the man from the diner if he looks her way) and wordlessly queues up to talk to the desk clerk, leaning against the wall and idly smoothing down the hairs standing on end on her arms.
"An invitation actually." Miyuku replies with a wry expression, reaching into her jacket pocket and drawing out the mysterious business card. "You wouldn't happen to know who lives at this address would you?" she says, handing her the card, presenting it, address side first.
Nace sees the girl in baggy basketball shorts and has an immediate recognition. She was at the diner. Is the Chavette hers? What are the odds? He feels that familiar pang on connection, but focuses on the reason he came down to the lobby.
He steps up to the counter and asks, "Do you have any recommendations on a place to grab a bite for dinner? Nothing fancy - just good food at a reasonable price?"
Jeremiah looks up, sees Nace and Miren and smiles
"Sure! Right by the Cottage Street bridge is the Halifax Taproom. They have nice pub food, and a good selection of local beers. Tonight they'll likely have some live music too. Not big venue, but maybe Rashida and her guitar, or Otis playing piano."
"An invitation actually." Miyuku replies with a wry expression, reaching into her jacket pocket and drawing out the mysterious business card. "You wouldn't happen to know who lives at this address would you?" she says, handing her the card, presenting it, address side first.
Traci frowns
"I know the address. It is actually the old Marks Mansion. My husband's family owned it back in the 19th Century. I don't know much about the man who bought it. He's an out-of-towner, keeps to himself."
”Thank you. That sounds like a great recommendation,” Nace says courteously to Jeremiah.
He turns and starts for the door, then stops. He looks to Morhen again and says, [/b]”I saw you earlier - at the diner, right?”[/b] he asks. ”Hell of a small world. Is that your Chavette out front?”
Prudence throws her bag on the bed and then jump lays down beside it. She glances at her watch and sighs. "Sit here for a bit and then head out, or head out now and grab an early dinner?" she thinks to herself. In the middle of her ruminations, she feels a familiar tingle and jumps up. She opens the door and Mafdet slinks in, jumping up on the bed and looking at Pru. *Mrow*
"Really? Well that is interesting. So now it's not just that Miren woman, but the suss looking guy from the diner as well. Thanks kitten," she scratches behind the black cat's ear, "I guess since you're back and I'm up, we should go and get some dinner huh? Maybe do a little bit more spying on the way out." She smiles and winks at the cat, who casually licks her paw. She gives under her arms a quick sniff and then pulls off her t-shirt and opens her bag, emptying the contents onto the bed. Half a dozen shirts, some panties, a pair of shorts, a wallet, an aerosol deodorant, a set of keys, a laptop, a smaller bag, a pink metal cylinder, a phone, and an SMG pile onto the bed. She selects another t-shirt from the pile, pulls it on and then puts the SMG and the laptop back into the bag. She walks over and puts it into the cupboard, before going back to the bed and grabbing a few things, and placing them into the smaller bag.
She opens the door and gestures for Mafdet to exit the room. With a lithe leap, the cat leaves the room, and Pru follows, tossing the room key into her bag after locking the door. They head down the hall and stop at the top of the stairs, watching Miren and Nace chatting for a little bit, before walking down and out the door to her car. She pulls up the directions to the Mad Martigan on her phone, and pulls out of the parking lot, heading to get some dinner so that she could think more on the coincidence of those two turning up at the same place as her.
He looks to Miren again and says, ”I saw you earlier - at the diner, right?” he asks. ”Hell of a small world. Is that your Chavette out front?”
"Um, yeah... hi. Seems like once you see someone one place, you see 'em everywhere. Chevette?" Miren peeks out the front window. "Oh, no. That's not mine. I guess it belongs to Pru - the lady in the diner with the pink hair? She's here, too. Another coincidence. I guess." Miren sounds doubtful.
Sidling over to Nace, she sticks out a hand, ducking her head shyly. "I'm Miren, by the way."
They walk down and out the door to her car. She pulls up the directions to the Mad Martigan on her phone, and pulls out of the parking lot, heading to get some dinner so that she could think more on the coincidence of those two turning up at the same place as her.
As Pru and Mafdet cross through, she gives them a smile and a little wave and a faint hey and watches them drive away. "And there's Pru and Mafdet. In the Chevette."
Her smile fades as she glances back to Nace. A sudden urge has her quiz him. "There's one missing, right?"
”Nace Bishop” Nace says to Miren by way of introduction. He accepts her outstretched hand and shakes it.
As Pru passes, he regards her with some surprise. Surely, then, there are no coincidences, he thinks. There must be more to the connection I felt.
To Miren’s last question, he comments, ”The motorcyclist, I suppose. Something tells me we might see her before long. What brings you to Halifax?”
Miren surveys him narrowly for a moment. "I was invited to a party. Though I suppose I shouldn't go as I am right now." She indicates her baggy shorts and fuzzy slipper socks ruefully.
"You?"
”Same,” Nace says. He ought to be surprised by Miren’s revelation, but he isn’t. ”At this point I would hazard a guess that it is the same one.” He mentions the address. ”Do you know our host?”
"That's the place, I think. No, no idea. All in all, it was pretty dumb to come across the country to a place I don't know for a party given by a person I don't know. But I got the impression it might be life changing." She scowls, crossing her arms. "It better not be Pampered Chef."
"Hey, I have an idea. Why don't we leave notes at the desk for Pru and the motorcycle lady and meet for breakfast tomorrow? We can compare notes and maybe figure out what's going on. We could say that... hmm... all the partygoers are meeting for breakfast. If they're not invited, they won't be here. But I'd bet my left canine tooth they are." She cocks her head at Nace. "Whaddya think? Breakfast?"
When Miren suggests that the party might be a multi-level marketing pitch, Nace snorts with laughter. The humorous quip relaxes him slightly.
”That’s an idea,” he says regarding the breakfast idea. He walks back to Jeremiah and leaves instructions. ”You have two more guests - or you will if they are not here already. One has pink hair and drives an old Chevette. The other rides a motorcycle - how would you describe her, Miren?”
”Please give them a message that we are inviting them to a diner for a breakfast tomorrow. What is a decent diner around here?” Before he has finished speaking, he has pulled a five dollar bill out of his wallet and put it in the tip jar on the counter. ”We would really appreciate it.”
Jeremiah nods
“Certainly Mr Bishop. The lady with the pink hair has already rented a room”
Miren borrows paper and a pen and leaves notes at the desk, one addressed to Pru, the other to 'motorcycle lady.'
Pru/Motorcycle Lady
The partygoers are meeting for breakfast tomorrow to compare notes on this mysterious event. Meet in the lobby at 8:30 if you were also invited. Come as you are.
Miren & Nace
"Can you give this note to to Pru and, if a dark lady in black leathers riding a motorcycle checks in, give this other one to her, please? Thanks so much, Jeremiah."
Miren shrugs at Nace. "I think that's the best we can do. If there are any more, I didn't... er, notice them at the diner."
"An invitation actually." Miyuku replies with a wry expression, reaching into her jacket pocket and drawing out the mysterious business card. "You wouldn't happen to know who lives at this address would you?" she says, handing her the card, presenting it, address side first.
Traci frowns
"I know the address. It is actually the old Marks Mansion. My husband's family owned it back in the 19th Century. I don't know much about the man who bought it. He's an out-of-towner, keeps to himself."
"Hmm...that is some information at least, though if this is business-related, I truly wonder how he obtained my name. Thank you though. Even a little information is better than none." Miyuky answers with a contemplative expression.
Nace nods at Miren. "I think I'll head to the Halifax Taproom. You?"
"Well, I wouldn't mind eating something if you don't mind me tagging along. I didn't want to go out at night alone in a strange town. If you can give me a minute, I'd love to eat something." Her stomach growls as if in agreement. "And I need to ask Jeremiah a question, then I'll run and put on something decent."
Taking his agreement for granted (he seems like a gentleman), she approaches the front desk and asks the helpful innkeeper, "Just out of curiosity, does anyone live in the old stables or barn that's out back? Are there any rooms available there?"
Jeremiah looks thoughtful
"Well, no. It's mostly storage now, but I've often thought it would make a good suite. I just haven't gotten enough funds to refurbish it. It's an old old building. There's actually a small forge still in the back. It was a blacksmith shop and stagecoach stop centuries ago."
"Huh." Miren is quiet for a moment. "Did anything happen there?"
Jeremiah looks puzzled
"Happen?"
Miren shakes her head. "Just curious. There's so much history here..." She shrugs. "I guess George Washington couldn't sleep everywhere."
Yelling "Be right back!" to Nace, she thunders up the 2 flights of stairs to her room, tosses on jeans, a shirt, and boots, and thunders back down.
"Ready!"
Nace nods to Miren. "You want to meet there?" he asks. "And what was that about the barn?"
Miren scrutinizes Nace for a moment. "Come on."
She leads the way out to the parking lot near the stable barn smithy building.
"Doesn't it feel weird to you?"