The Crossing Woman

I wrote this vignette based on a real encounter. I was driving from Denny's to a public library and saw a woman dressed from the neck down in thick dark clothes. My first thought was about witches in the desert, the next was human concern. Stay hydrated!

I didn’t shiver in the heat, the thermostat said not to. 98, 101 even. Instead, I took a drive.

First, I grabbed the little loop of keys by the front door. One piece had broken off and slid away, so I picked that up too.

It was bright out, not black. Tangier skies, maybe with a little detergent in the mix. Pollen everywhere: up my nose, in my eyes, a blinding excuse of an evening.

One hummingbird darted nearby. I could see it through the haze. It looked at me, then gave the game away.

A nest was now positioned on the top of the courtyard door handle, and in that nest were two black, slippery slugs. Though, chicks aren’t slugs. I turned and went through the side-door to the garage to get out.

What time was it? Morning for me. I wanted eggs. The tidy little woven basket crossed my mind. On second thought…

The 111 was quiet, but not dead. Someone tried to kill me, at least one person. They had a vendetta for no one in particular. I moved lane and kept my gaze forward.

A mile and a half from the diner I considered some options. I couldn’t have eggs, eggs would be wrong. It felt like a trick, or a trap. Something meant to catch me out. I’d blink and then they would look at me. Those little slugs with their big eyes.

I took a left turn off the 111 into a big empty parking lot. Plenty of cars, but no people. Not a soul. A place where the birds couldn’t get me, but a murder of crows might.

In the palm nearby, I saw a black shape. One of the ravens, beady eyed. It gave me a scowl and I stared back with spirit. It squawked and flew to another tree, and snatched something with its claws, and flew off into the distance.

My face felt pan-fried. I didn’t want to think of eggs, I needed a cold drink. The desert heat sneaks up on you like that.

There was a diner, but I stayed in my car. Here there was absence. No more souls, no more ravens, no more slugs. Maybe I just wanted to sit and watch the mountains and the light fade, or see the desert sand blast the white pick-up opposite and blow the red tarp that wasn’t tied down properly.

I had a bottle of warm water in the car. Old, not ideal, but I sipped it. I could head on in any time, but I didn’t want to anymore. I didn’t need eggs, or ham, or a coffee to dehydrate me in the desert. I could have gone for an aspirin, but I’d made the wrong turn for the drug store.

I saw the geyser on the front of the plastic bottle: a little scene of tall trees, and greenery, then I crushed it and tossed it into the backseat. There was other crap back there, but I didn’t get out of the car to clean it.

My mind drifted as the evening wind hit. A crust of a palm blew down and smacked my windscreen. A few minutes later a flier for a Beatles tribute band blew on by in a whirl.

I didn’t have much water, but I’d already made up my mind about the diner.

I could see the lights, a waitress inside buzzing about. Well, let me correct that… I could see a young girl trying for tips. It was a good vantage point. I could see her at the table, and then at a wooden kiosk. She would go there to recover. Zip back and forth, like the hummingbird.

They’d think I was a creep if they saw me, so I stopped watching. My eyes drifted back to the black syrupy road, I could see one or two cars. My lids were heavy, but something seemed out of place: someone, in fact.

A woman didn’t wait for the pedestrian crossing. She marched in a direct line toward me, no eye contact.

She had long blond hair, but that wasn’t the strange part. She was wearing a dark brown dress from the neck down, it covered her body except her face and hair. She also wore pointed boots.

Homeless? Who’s to say. But she looked clean and pale. Too pale for the desert sun beneath that turquoise mirage.

I started to flinch a little. Her eyes were blue, like the geyser on that crumpled plastic, but I didn’t want to stare.

It felt like she was going to lurch, to jump at me. Like a sheriff out to spot those caught loitering where they weren’t supposed to.

She wasn’t a sheriff.

The stranger stepped off the road into the checkerboard desert. A customer was about to exit the diner. Some bell on the door rang, I jumped. Then, when I looked back the woman was gone.

Not further out, not hiding behind a bush. Gone.

It was such a hot evening, usually it would be cooler by now. I sighed and resigned myself.

“This place is infested with witches,” I said aloud.

The sun set, and I decided that I wasn’t hungry anymore. I decided I’d better get a drive-through soda instead. All I needed was a Coke and an aspirin.

I’d go to the diner some other time, on some other day. Tonight, all I wanted was to be safe.

My fingers traced the steering wheel, and I drove away.