Someone shouts a greeting and I lift my head to wave at Max as he rides past on his bicycle.“Hey, Max!”Aluminum foil sticks out from beneath his black and red baseball cap.I grin.Most people in town think he’s cute, but a bit odd.Truth is, he’s much more in tune with reality than the rest of us.
I look up and down the block, checking out everyone’s tables and decorations.The street is completely closed to cars for the festival.Foot traffic only.It’s midmorning and the locals haven’t come out to play yet.The people out walking from booth to booth, chatting, sipping coffee and looking at all the local shops’ goodies are about ninety-five percent tourists, half here for the Area-51 cook-off, the other half for the astronomy vendors, astral photography displays put together by local art galleries, and to gossip about the latest UFO-UAP sightings.They’re all here to meet with like-minded friends.
Sheriff Benson and her deputies parked their cars at either end, blocking the road.I can’t see the two cars at the far end of the street, butTahoe Triple Treatsis close to the far end, close enough to hear the Sheriff’s laughter off to my left.They turned the flashing lights on and put up a line of bright orange, billboard barricades for good measure.I see her, Smiley and Deputy Rhoades mingling with the public as they sip steaming cups of coffee.?
The sun is shining, there’s not a cloud in the sky, and the sound of happy people enjoying the day fills the half mile stretch through the middle of town.?I never know what to expect as far as the number of people who will show up for Stargazer Village’s annual Astronomy Festival and Area 51 Cook-off.Stargazer Village’s tribe vibe is high.?
The locals just come out for the food, including my sweet, crisp, melt-in-your mouth, saucer-shaped sugar cookies.I make the little spaceships in all different colors and flavors.Blue ships have blueberry frosting and windows made of lemon drizzle.The red ships are cherry and vanilla.Yellow cookies are lemon and lime.Pink is strawberry and watermelon.My personal favorite?The caramel crème with milk chocolate.?
No wonder I’m not skin and bones.The saying goes that one should never trust a skinny chef.I feel exactly the same way about bakers.?
I’m just so thankful I was able to replace all the cookies from the fiasco with theMIBthe other day.?
“Madison!Do you have our order ready?”Saffron and her husband, Pepper, wander across the street to my table.Julia and I are busy setting up, putting the cookies out on display and trying to get organized before it gets any busier.?Since the disaster on Sunday, the café has been cleaned but there is still water damage that needs repair.?
“I’ve got it, dear.”My mom smiles at our neighbors—their shop,Hippy Dippy Do,is right across the street.??
“Thanks, Mom.”She disappears inside our store to pull their box of cookies from the mountain high stack of prepared orders.?At least I was able to hire help the past few days so that we could at least use the café to store all the extras.
Julia makes small talk as I carefully stack the display stands and fill them with a fresh batch of pink and green cookies.According to local legend—which means my father told me, because somehow, he knows everything about everyone in this town—Saffron and Pepper are both in their sixties, retired from the CIA, think everything from the tap water to their cell phones are trying to kill them, and make the best natural hair care, lotions and soaps to be found anywhere in the world.?
Also, Saffron and Pepper aren’t their real names.The monikers do, however, perfectly match their cotton tunics, handmade leather sandals, and the fact that they live out of a converted school bus they park behind their store.I think Saffron singlehandedly keepsCosmic Crystals, the store two doors down from theirs, in business.?
Mom returns with the box of lemon and lime cookies while Julia checks their name off the pick-up list.They’re only the third order crossed off a printed list three pages long.?
God, I hope I didn’t miss anyone in my rush to refill supplies.I wave as they head back to their tables.Pepper has already snagged a cookie and is happily munching away.“I’ll be by later for some of your honey and cucumber shampoo.Save me a bottle, Saffron.Don’t forget.”?
“Of course not, dear.I already have it hidden away in the back.”She waves at my mom.“Keep your eye on that lovely daughter of yours today.I did a Tarot reading last night.There is very negative energy surrounding the town right now.”?
“Oh?Thanks for the heads up.Maybe I’d better get over to Cosmic’s before Moonbeam sells all her new inventory.”
My mom has been friends with Saffron for years.Frankly, I think she really believes half the woo-woo that comes out of her mouth.Not that I believe Saffron can read Tarot or that it’s even accurate, but her words, after everything that’s happened in the last few days, make the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.?
“Yes.Of course.In fact, I’ll go with you.I have my eye on a new rose quartz.Let’s go now.”?
My mom glances over to her and dad’s booth forStargazer Tours, which is so close I can read the selection of UFO watching parties, astral photography sessions, night hikes and overnight stargazing camping trips my dad offers to all the tourists.“I’ll be right back, dear.”?
“Go enjoy yourself, Mom.Tell Elizabeth I said hello.”?
Moonbeam is the ‘star name’ Elizabeth chose for herself when she opened her shop a few years ago.Mom gets a kick out of it.?
Shaking my head, I just keep stacking cookies as the two friends wander across the street and disappear inside theCosmic Crystalsshop.It’s a cute place with lots of good energy.Between my mom’s new psychic friends and my dad’s UFO-UAP conspiracy theory pals and former SEAL buddies, it’s a wonder I grew up to be normal, level heading individual.?
Maybe I’m not normal.Maybe that’s the whole damn problem.I keep trying to be something I’m not.?
Is it normal to fall in love with an alien within a few hours of meeting him?Nope, not in the slightest.Is it normal to be engaged to a man for almost two years and not realize that he’s been in love with someone else the entire time?It’s not.Is it normal to walk away from the most rewarding, passionate, intense relationship of one’s life because… what?Why did I really walk away from Rygar?Was it danger to my family?Or was it because he’s different?Because he isn’t going to work a nine-to-five job, pay taxes and watch football games on the television every weekend while coaching little league?Because I can’t have a house with a white picket fence??
What the fuck am I going to do with a white picket fence anyway?Complain that it’s too short to keep the dog in the yard and groan every couple of years when we have to repaint it??
I’ve been having the same arguments with myself, over and over, chasing my own tail, for the last three days.The fact remains, I love Rygar.
Does our relationship make sense for a normal person?No.I don’t care anymore.Because I’m not normal, nor have I ever been.I’ve been trying to fit myself into a normal life for as long as I can remember, and it never works.I’d have an easier time walking down a flight of stairs with no handrail, in a pair of four-inch stilettos, with my eyes closed, than to stuff myself into life that doesn’t fit me.??
How could I be so stupid?Tossing away the best thing that has even happened to me.?
Emily nudges me with her shoulder.I spin and grab her in a tight hug.
“Where the hell have you been?”
