+++
Monday morning I waited outside my door safely enclosed behind the white picket fence. I had been instructed to pack light, with only one suitcase I had found in grandmother’s closet and a carry on bag.
I was anxious to do a bit of traveling and was oddly excited to leave. From what I had read the City of Bordeaux was a wonder in it’s self.
Although I was just a maid I tried hard not to look like one. I wore a cut gray ankle-length skirt with heels and a high neck blouse. Ms. Ginger lent me a pair of her diamond earrings for luck and Kayla gave me one of her hairclips that was holding back a strand of my hair.
Clomp clomp clomp
The ground shook slightly and looking towards the road a
white horse was making its way into to
The driver, and older man with a toothless grin, stopped right in front of my house holding a piece of paper with a crudely drawn map.
“Oh, no.”, I whispered
Taking my bags I walked to over to the driver and waved to get his attention.
“Tell me you’re lost”, I hoped
“Are you A. M. Fierro?” he asked.
“No, I guess I’m plus one.”
“Didn’t mention a plus one. . . but there is plenty of room.”
Of course he didn't mention me.The driver hopped off the carriage with expertise, he placed my suitcase into the back of the carriage. While we waited I ran my hand along the horses soft nuzzle.
I had been one of the few little girls who actually got a
pony for Christmas; it was a gift my parents immediately regretted so one day Magic
had to be sent back home.
Just thinking about my parents almost bought the heat of oncoming tears to my face. I had been tempted to “see” them again but knew better.
At exactly 5 am Mr. Fierro’s front door open. He stopped at the front door and locked it and repeated the motion at the fence.
Mr. Fierro was dressed in his usual detailed fashion complete with a brimmed hat. He kept the rim low and didn’t even look at the driver.
Like me he had one bag and stuffed under one arm was a elegant white box and a parasol
“Good Morning, Mr. Fierro”, I said
“Ms. DeLune.”, he greeted me.
I stepped out of the way as Mr. Fierro got into the carriage. My skirt had very little give and after the first few attempts I was able to swing myself in. Once the door was closed Mr. Fierro removed his hat.
He sat with his back to the driver while I sat on the other side, our legs on either side of each other.
I looked down at his chalk hands, there was no indication that he had ever worn a wedding band.
The driver hummed a few church Hymns for the first hour but he grew silent and the only sound was that of the horse’s hooves.
“Mr. Fierro”, I said as the carriage went over a rough stretch of road, “Does the train not go to the City of Bordeaux ?”
He looked up from the manuscript he was writing and took a pot of ink from his pocket. Carefully unfolding the hankerchief he let it fall across my knees and handed the ink pot to me
“Hold this, Ms. DeLune”
I held the ink and after a few sentences he reached over and dipped the fountain pen in the ink and without even looking he let the excess in fall over the hankerchief.
I felt myself slowly growing frustrated with this, did he really need me to be a human ink-holder? I tried to convince myself that this was exciting, I was traveling to a new place.
I used to love doing that.
“You know Mr. Fierro. When I shopping in town. . . I was tempted to see my parents again. I just feel so human, like I’m not really here. . dead I suppose.”
“I can assure you Ms. DeLune. You are no longer human and the Specters are much less than that.”
“Yes, I understand but I still feel.”, I consciously touched the side of my face, “It seems to want to be on Earth furthers that need to be human.”
Mr. Fierro tapped his pen against the paper. Suddenly he raised his hand and slashed the pen’s pointed edge across my face.
I felt the silver pointed-tip graze and cut my skin, a thick trickle of blood running from just under my eye and down my lips. And though the pain was dull I was still in shock that he had cut me
I wiped the blood before if could reach my blouse.
My blood was a thick black stain on my hand. I wiped at it a few more times as realization set in.
I wasn’t bleeding.
I couldn't
Retrieving a compact from my pocket I saw a line of drying ink running from under my right eye over the bridge of my nose and down over my pink painted lips.
I couldn’t even look at him as I began wiping my face with the handkerchief across my lap, the ink had fallen to the floor.
“In the words of Shakespeare”, said Mr. Fierro as he returned to his work. “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you are dead. Grieve. And quickly get over it.”
Our eyes met quickly and he continued working.
+++
We continued on our journey for three hours in complete silence. Mr. Fierro rested with his eyes closed, but not really asleep. I had attempted to do some knitting Ms. Ginger had given me but just created knots.
“Alright, folks”, said the driver, “Loretta needs a break, we’re going to stop for a bit.”
“Very, well”, said Mr. Fierro.
We had stopped in an expansive rest area with a little general store and open park. A few trees dotted the landscape.
Mr. Fierro wasted no time in getting out of the cramped space. He was a few steps out and turned back.
I had intended on staying inside when Mr. Fierro handed me the parasol he had been carrying. The sun was warm and shining for the mid-autumn weather.
Mr. Fierro adjusted my hand so I was holding the parasol over him, blocking his pale skin from the sun. Given his previous performance this was clearly a habit and not necessary.
I unbuttoned my jacket, the air was very thick and humid. Mr. Fierro just seemed to be walking.
He stopped walking and offered his arm to me so we were walling together the parasol shading us both. He was careful to keep a distance and appeared none to happy about being kind to the help.
“You can pretend I’m her.”, I said
“Excuse me?”
“Often I close my eyes and pretend I’m somewhere other than here. Of course I usually end up hurting my self. . . getting too lost in the fantasy”,
I kept any further thoughts to myself as we headed back to
the carriage. He carefully removed my arm from his and closed the parasol
before stepping back inside. I looked to see the driver chatting with someone
by the general store.
I walked around to the horse and petted it while we waited. After a few minutes the driver returned.
“Ready Ma’am ?”, he asked
“How much longer ?”
“’bout 6 hours give ‘er take”
I took a deep (and unnecessary ) breath and continued on the journey.
+1+
Somewhere along the way I had let myself fall asleep. I slipped off my shoes and my legs curled underneath. I could feel Mr. Fierro watching me but I kept my eyes closed.
I don’t know how long I slept but slowly I began to dream. . .
My cell phone had rang somewhere in the dark classroom, I had quickly turned the light back on and shuffled around till I found the buzzing blackberry. Peter was calling.
“Hello”, I’d said into the receiver
“Clara ? Where have you been. Your mother called me
worried.”
“I was at school. .. just doing some last minute cleaning before the summer vacation.”
“Am I going to have to deal with a future wife who disappears on a regular basis ?”, he joked.
“Of course not, Peter.”, I said, “I’ll call my mom as soon as I get home.”
“I’ll see you when I get back from Milan.”
“Okay, bye”
He hung up quickly and I let the thought of playing my
classroom piano run through my mind before going home but decided to get to my home, it was getting late, and the piano would be there tomorrow.
I hurried out of the lobby and towards the faculty parking lot. My black SUV sat in a well lit area yet I felt self conscious about how alone I was.
Once inside my car I turned up the WXQR as high as it would go , Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata was playing as I pulled onto the street. I hummed along with each note, It was a quite and monotonous
drive ,until I pulled on to
I heard loud rock music blasting in the distance and looked in all directions for headlights but saw none. I stopped at the red light at the deserted intersection of Old Mill and Springsberry.
I pulled down the mirror to put on some make up when A little sports car went past me at 150 miles per hour. It was maybe inches from the side of my car I had barley gotten over the shock when I heard a horn.
The pressure of another car ramming into my SUV's back end sent me over the dashboard, there was a crack
as my head hit the steering wheel. My SUV was pushed to the side of the road.
The pressure had caused the windshield to shatter, constrained by my seat belt I could feel it digging into my skin. For some
reason I began to reach for the outside but I was stuck and unable to move.
Blood was pulling into my eyes and I couldn’t scream. I head someone yell “Oh, Shit” and the car that hit me backed up and maybe they panicked because they were drunk and hit my car again.
"Holy, shit", the voice said again.
This time I screamed in pain, I attempted to reach the car horn so they would know I was
still alive, but they never came.
“Help”, was the last word I said
That’s when I saw the white light. . .
“This simply will not do”, I blinked at the sound of Mr. Fierro’s polished voice.
“I’ can do the best I can, sir”, said the driver.
I sat up quickly and hit my head against the top of the moving carriage.
“There has to be some other way—“
“My, God”, I interrupted
Once I had situated myself I caught a glimpse out the window. We were moving along a cobblestone path, right in front of us was what could only be the City Of Bordeaux
At first glance the skyline pertained of a beautiful palace with high towers and intricate iron work and stone but beyond that reaching to the sky was the making of a modern city scape. Skyscrapers and aircraft hovered above the city center.
We looked so close.
“I’m sorry sir.”, continued the driver, “I have to go around the courtyard to enter The palace. Take ‘least an hour or so.”
“We’ll have to across walk then. Come along, Ms. Delune.”
I was barley awake and still in awe over the strange city. I slipped on my shoes as Mr. Fierro paid the man and went to get my suitcase.
Clutching my carry-on to my shoulder I took my suitcase from the back along with Mr. Fierro’s black one.
“Take this”, he ordered handing me the white box he had arrived with.
Mr. Fierro was not the type of man to run but he walked at full speed across the Castle lawn and towards the drawbridge. It seemed to be ages away but I followed. Weighted down by everything I was carrying.
The Mud was soft and my tiny heels sunk unmercifully into the ground. Looking up he was several feet ahead of me.
“Hurry along, Ms. DeLune”, he called to me. 
“I’m trying, sir”, I took another step and the suitcases toppled down.
I attempted to get myself situated when he walked back to where I was.
“I have an appointment to keep, Ms. Delune. You will not make me late.”
“I’m sorry, sir”, was all I could say.
“Lose this suitcase”, he said taking the white box from me.
I looked up at him confused when he emptied the contents of my suitcase on the grass. My clothes, perfume, shoes and make up lay gathering dirt.
I stuffed as much as I could into my shoulder bag and hurried along at a faster speed. My new suitcase left on its own.
