The evanescence of the day's surprise wasn't alarming because things began to get more interesting than it already was. She proposed we had to talk in a private place where no one would actually care about what we say or do, and that brings me here, sitting awkwardly in a karaoke bar directly facing her, eye ball to eye ball, of course this was the worse place to pick as a secluded area. She had taken off the apron she wore at work leaving herself with a blue coloured T-shirt which had a bold writing over it which read "Bad girl" in white Gothic letters, and a black trouser perfectly matching her turquoise hair, she looked good in her casual wear and I couldn't help but think of how she would have looked like proffesionally. We stared at each other in inconvenience for a moment with no entertainment in the background and for some reason, I was so grateful for the break of silence made by the waiter who brought two glass cups of whiskey to the table in an iron tray.
"Care for anything else?"asked the waiter giving her a chivalrous gesture.
"No, we're good", she responded fixating her eyes on mine as she continued, " Except if he'd like to have something else" tilting her head to the left having her hands crossed/folded across each other. I could tell her legs were crossed also.
At least she recognized I could speak for myself, but my lack of response made it clear I wasn't a fan of talking though satisfied with the offer.
"What's with you, you don't talk?" she asked making me feel intimidated by my personality.
"I'm fine" I responded gesturing to the waiter as he dropped the tray which had two cups of whiskey on top of the table.
"What's wrong with you?" I questioned as she took a sip of the drink and kept it back almost immediately.
"Nothing", consenting to my question, "you're the one who has lots of problems"
"Do you have a problem with my problems? ". I retorted raising an eyebrow at her".
She took another sip of her whiskey and I smirked in the process as she continued.
"You look like an amateur".
"How do you mean?" I asked in euphemism.
"It's obvious, I mean, you barely could connect with me"
"I don't connect with people"
"Of course you don't " she scoffed discomfited at my response rolling her eyes in disgust.
I needed no one to tell me how tough she could be, but in my pride I couldn't help but think I was more superior in that aspect.
"What's your animal spirit?" she asked getting to the main point of our meeting.
"I'm still dubious about it but I guess it's a lion."
"You can't be serious" she retorted having both of her eyes bulge in surprise to my words loosening her folded arm as she placed them on the table top.
"I'm not surprised, you reacted exactly how I assumed you would"
"Who told you the lions spirit is yours? "
"Howard, I guess, he looks cool but at the same time he gets tough for no reason".
"Now I get where the tough face comes from"
"Have you met Howard or you two have a thing going on?"
"No", she replied raising the glass cup towards her mouth before sipping the whiskey, " I have no idea who he is".
"OK, so what's up with you, you know Mrs. Karrie?" I asked in wait for a perfect response, but the silence which erupted made me feel like she wasn't present at all.
"You're not responding, I get that a lot these days" I said trying to snap her out of her illusive thought.
"She gave you the necklace didn't she?"
"Of course she did, I was meant to search for you somehow and I couldn't use google because she didn't give me a name".
My right hand was clenched into a fist on top of the table and I watched her fix her gaze on me having a very sad look on her face.
"What's wrong?" I asked having a questioning look facially.
"She's dead", she responded, this time she looked so pale and gloomy holding her cup of whiskey, "she died a long time ago, when I was really young".
I grimaced, dubious about what she said. Hopefully, I thought she was drunk, but she only took three sips of whiskey already, she can't be possibly drunk with only three sips. My face contorted as I glared at her folding her arms back and sliding down the leathery seat.
"Are you serious or you're joking?" I retorted
"How would I joke about my mom" she replied increasing her voice a little bit, and adjusting her posture on the chair placing her hands over her face with her elbows on the table having the same gloom over her face she continued, "I know we weren't the best of friends but for the love of God, I never thought, I never thought I'd miss her this much". She repeated.
Having crossed her hands, she sniffed in the fluid which ran down her nose and cleaned the tear drop that fell down from her eyes.
"So you mean to tell me that the woman who came to my room this morning is dead and she had died a long time ago? No, that's impossible, she told me... She told me... ", I stammered fidgeting with my hand over my face as I raised it up in unbelief, "I was there, I was at her house at noon yesterday and she gave me the necklace. She took it out from a drawer in an empty room which had framed pictures of this young girl".
"That's me" she retorted.
"She said something about you having a fight with her but I didn't really pay attention because in my head, I heard two people having a conversation, one of which was that of an elderly woman and the other was shrill like that of a child."
"True, that was the night she died. Apparently I was angry at her for some reasons unknown, she told me they were coming for her and I was meant to take her place. I was still a child, twelve years of age when she said such words and I didn't know she spoke of her death. I protested to what she said and I yelled at her and left the house."
"So what or who killed them?" I asked enthusiastic about the whole orphic incident.
"She died in a car accident with my dad. The witnesses present explained how they collided into a large truck having an oil bunker on top of it. All I could do was imagine how tragic it was, and since then, I've always had nightmares of how I treated my mom, I couldn't forgive myself for five good years and then one day, while I walked down the street of my home, I met this lady, she was a total stranger but she led me to the cafe and handed me over to the manager, she told me everything was going to be OK, and it was exactly as she said it would be. My nightmares stopped and I learned some awesome secrets, of which I'm sure you have a clue to what those secrets are".
"I'm sorry I didn't paying attention to the last part" I replied after sipping a cup of whiskey, placing the cup on the table top.
"What if I prove to you that she's not dead?"
"You can't prove to me what's false, it'll be crazy ... "
"I can prove to you that she's not dead" I retorted cutting her short of words. "Let's go down to your parents house and then you'll see for yourself".
"Sure", she replied sounding convinced at first, but then she began to rant out motioning her hands as she spoke, "let's uber ourselves to a home where strangers now live in, fine, we can just bring back all the past memories that .hurt me for so long, if that's what it takes for you to prove that my mother is alive then fine, do it, and if it makes you feel any better, prove to me that my father is alive also, and if you don't show me where my dad is, then stay really far away from me". Of her words I felt intimidated as it deepened at the last sentence, but I couldn't understand to the fullest extent what had occurred, and the level of her anger.
I watched her walk off the bar looking so pissed off and yet I felt her pain. To be honest, I thought she was insane for saying Mrs. Karrie was dead, but her emotional display made it clear that she was serious. She didn't seem to like me a bit, but I guess I was the one who was going to pay for the glasses of whiskey.
I walked out of the bar few minutes after she had left and headed to Mrs. Karrie's house. The only way to prove myself right was to bring her (Mrs. Karrie) to her daughter. Though she thought I was crazy, I was going to make sure she was wrong having her confess I was right all along, and that's exactly what I wanted to prove.
I soon arrived at the entrance of her house and there I was, at the very door step of the house. Nothing changed at all and the house looked exactly how it was at the exterior. I rang the doorbell which was just beside the door and it didn't take long for someone to attend to me. The door opened slowly in front of me and right before my very eyes stood a very beautiful but slim white brunette girl, she wore a jean jacket over her designers T-shirt having a blue jean trouser and an all star sneakers.
"What's the matter?" she asked in a normal teenage voice of which I assumed.
"I need to see Mrs. Karrie"
She turned her head backwards scanning to see that no one was nearby before looking back at me responding with few questions.
"Are you a relative?"
"No"
"Her son?"
"No, she's a friend of mine."
"Then I'm sorry to break this down to you , she's dead. She died ten years ago in a car accident but dad told me to keep shut about it because he suspected her to be a witch or so...".
At this particular point in time on hearing what she said, I payed no attention to what she added further. My eyes were struck with anger, anger of deceit, and my whole mind couldn't accept the improbable fact that indeed I was crazy, and this got me twice as furious as ever because for the past seven years, my life had been nothing but a lie. This was the part I knew that I emerged into the beginning of my journey in understanding the way of the chosen and its complex ramifications. Yet, my only unanswered question was full of "What's and How's?".