The Night Owl Express

Isabella stepped out from the overcrowded studio apartment and into the dim lit hallway leading to the stairwell. She could feel the chill of the Northern air fighting its way through the grimy interior walls of the building. As she walked, she dialed the number of a taxi service she found on a business card. Heavy and well-crafted, the card stood out to her for some reason other than its quality. She read the name out loud, just barely above a whisper, as she pushed the cumbersome door leading to the outside.

“Night Owl Express.”

She breathed a breath of fresh air. The tingle in her nose from the cold quickly began to make her eyes water. The early winter air felt cool and refreshing on her skin and in her lungs. She heard an owl’s faint hoot almost to gently call her attention. Her eyes darted to the perched bird. Its eyes looked as if they were holding the full moon in them. As she stepped closer it opened its wings and darted straight at her. Her hand sprang to guard her face as she let out obscenities. She never felt the impact. It was as if it was never there.

BEEP BEEP!

Isabella ripped another burst of obscenities as she realized her cab is here already. She quickly made her way to the back passenger’s side door, hoping that he didn’t see her practically throw herself to the ground. At least maybe he saw the large barn owl that shouldn’t be there dive-bombing people. As she slid her body into the car, she saw his dark mahogany hand highlighted by a thin gold ring resting almost naturally off the passenger’s head rest. She could see tattoos running from his wrist up under his lightweight olive drab coat. There were what looked like fifteen different necklaces on the rear-view mirror, all with different shaped beads. Some even appeared to be runes of some sort.

“Where we need be love?” The cabbie asked with a slight accent more fitting for a pirate. As she gave the address, he put the car in drive and smoothly pulled off. “I’m sorry I forgot my manners, my name is May, and you must be Isabella?”

Isabella confirmed and found comfort in the small talk. She found May rather easy to talk to, almost as if she could not help herself but to be honest and forthcoming with him. In a pause in the conversation May confessed that he had heard bad things about the pretty girls that go to this address with intentions of money and a ‘ways out”, and he fears for her. May wasn’t shocked when her response was that of honesty. Isabella had never been a talker, but almost on cue her lips began moving and the song of what is her life story began to unravel. How for fifteen years she has lived this great life with her mother, father, and older brother, and how two corrupt countries had shattered that happiness in record time. How at the age of 16, her family was ripped apart while fleeing their war-torn homeland. How her and her father, Luis, were separated from her mother, Marta, and her brother Javi. How her father was murdered in front of her a year later. All about her amazing escape from captivity, her brave and extremely dangerous journey to the free land, then her life of drifting. How she worked just to survive another night for the last two months, but she had finally gotten a break where she would be able to make enough money to search for her mother and brother.

“I’m sorry,” Isabella blurted out.

“I… I don’t know what came over me.”

May cut her apology short, “Little girl you have no reason to apologize to me. People can’t help but to tell me their life story, it comes with my job. How am I to take you where you truly need to be if I don’t truly know who you are? Throughout your story you’ve stood toe to toe with evil and with only good intentions as your sword, and honesty as your shield. It seems we have reached a fork in the road. Your sort can only go one way, but you have two options.”

The car quietly squeaked to a halt.

“Take this cigar box and step out of the driver side of the car, for vengeance is within the box. Or take this flower and handkerchief and exit the side you came in.”

Isabella took a minute and looked at the cigar case. Without opening it, she knew deep down what lies inside was an instrument of destruction. The people responsible for her father’s death were the very people she was meeting for her audition tonight. She could match their silk tongues with hard steel, but there would be no love in that. If she ever would get to see her family again, it would be through glass and their voices would be crackling through the phone line. She did not want that. She truly just wanted to be with her family again. The flower and handkerchief on the other hand meant her mother and brother. She placed her hand on top of his, that was in its natural position on the passenger side head rest.

“Thank you, Mr. May.”

She took the handkerchief and flower. As she exited out the side she entered, she was struck with a gust of warm salt filled air. She noticed she wasn’t anywhere near where she had started the taxi ride. As she turned back in utter shock, her eyes were greeted with the same full moon eyes of the barn owl staring back at her through the rear-view mirror. She flinched back just enough for the car door to swing close.

It was warm, and as she walked up the small sandy sidewalk, she could smell her mother’s cooking and hear her favorite soap opera blasting in the kitchen. It made her footsteps shutter as she began to cry with joy. Right before she called out to her mother in tears, she heard the taxi door close. There stood her brother with a cigar case trembling in his hands. They ran to each other and collapsed in an embrace, both exhausted from the two-year journey to make it here.

They both heard a loud screech and couldn’t tell if it was the tires or possibly the owl, but where the Night Owl Express had once stood parked on the street, there was now nothing there.