Page 6 of Bewitched By the Werewolf
“This has to be it,” I say to myself, because I’m “crazy.” So why not add talking to myself to the list?
I turn down the road and start making my way into the forest. My map on my cellphone shows no road and that I’m just driving through wilderness.This has to be the right way.
The road is paved, with no potholes or obstructions, but there are no lane markings no mile markers. Nothing. Just ablank single car wide road leading nowhere. Well, I hope it’s not leading me nowhere. I hope to find something at the end of this rainbow. Possibly the pot of gold I’ve been chasing after for nearly twenty years.
My pace is slow to ensure I don’t miss another turn off or hit a wild animal who doesn’t realize this is a road with cars that drive on it. Luckily, Bambi doesn’t leap out in front of me. I must be driving for at least half an hour before the road curves and widens, then another few miles before the trees start to thin out and signs of civilization begin to appear.
White and yellow lines appear on the now proper road. The shoulder widens and after one more bend a sign appears. I stop to stare up at it.
Welcome to Snowberry.
That’s it. No population count, no cheesy town motto, no established in 1943. Just a simple green sign with white lettering that if seen from afar might blend in with the trees around it. It’s clean and maintained though. Not the type of sign you would expect to find deep in the forest. I would expect it to be rotted and covered with moss and grime, partially split and hanging on by one side. But it’s in pristine condition.
“Snowberry huh? What kind of town would be way out here?”
One hopefully filled with werewolves. I press the gas and head onward, and just when I expect the sign is a diversion, a building appears. A gas station from the looks of it, and there’s people. A man in blue coveralls walks out of the garage wiping his hands on a rag that he sticks in his back pocket.
As I get closer, I realize the street is coming to an intersection, and there are other buildings beyond the gas station. I debate stopping at the gas station to get information or not. Depending on the locals it could be a bad idea or a good one. From the colorful sign and casual demeanor of the workers, I figure the locals could be friendly.
Pulling into the gas station I pull up to an empty pump, figuring I might as well top off while I’m here. Really sell my story. Now should I go lost tourist or I’m right where I’m supposed to be? Looking out past the gas station to the quaint little town beyond, my first instinct is lost tourist. But if this town is hiding what I think it is, they might not like lost tourists. I think my best bet would be to act as if I’m supposed to be here but it’s my first time. Invited by a local perhaps? If people think I know someone in town there more likely to talk to me than if I were an outsider waltzing in unannounced.
A bell rings when I pull up to the pump and an attendant appears from the little shop attached the open garage. A cute guy who looks a little younger than me with dirty blonde hair that sticks out in all directions, most likely due to him running his hands through it haphazardly, jogs over and smiles a golden retriever grin that tells me he is just as sweet and innocent as a puppy dog. This kid will be putty in my hands.
“Hi. How can I help ya today?”
The boys smile never falls and he leans his forearm on my open window frame. The patch on his coveralls read Luca, so I’m assuming that’s his name. There’s nothing outright unusual about Luca, he could be any other guy working at any gas station.
“Hi there,” I lay on the sweetness and smile bright at him. “Could you fill’er up please?”
“Of course.”
Luca nods and pulls his arm from my window, lifting the gas nozzle from the holster he stretches it to reach the truck. I let him get it in place before stepping out to get the information I’m looking for. It usually makes it easier to get info from a male when they can see my boobs.
I stretch as if I’ve been driving a long distance, which I have so they stretch feels great. I notice Luca glance at me, so far so good.
“This is my first time in town, could you point me in the direction that I could park my trailer? I’d like to get settled in before dark.” I top of my request with the sweetest expression I can manage, which I’ve been told is quite convincing.
Luca doesn’t even blink at my request and answers without hesitation. “Oh sure, there’s a campground by the lake. Just take a left at the intersection here and that’ll lead you straight to the lake. You can’t miss it.”
“Oh, that’s great, thank you so much. I’ve been driving for hours, and I can’t wait to finally relax and get something to eat. Any suggestions?” I tilt my head and cock my hip like an innocent cheerleader hoping my naive act works.
“Dottie’sis the place to go. You’re gonna pass right by it on your way to the lake. There’s a large neon sign, it’s pretty obvious.”
“Dottie’shuh?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty much the only restaurant in town besidesMorning Star Cafe, but they’re not open for dinner.” He chuckles and checks on the gas pump, watching the numbers turn over in the old-fashioned analog dial.
“I’ll make sure to check it out tonight then, thank you.” I give Luca my sweetest most appreciative smile.
“You’re welcome.” He nods his head and removes the nozzle from my truck and replaces it in its cradle.
I try to flirt a little more while I pay with cash, their preferred method, but it doesn’t seem to work as well as it usually does. He’s polite and cordial but his gaze doesn’t linger, and he doesn’t ask for my number or ask to meet me later, like some guys would. I take the small win of getting directions and makingmyself appear to be here on purpose, and head in the direction he indicated.
As soon as I turn left at the intersection, I’m on what I assume is the main street of town, where all the action happens. There isn’t even a stop light, just the stop sign. The buildings line either side of the street, built of brick and stone in that midwestern small town kind of way. Most are butted up against the next, a few are free standing. Wooden carved signs hang on poles and in display windows. It looks like there’s one of everything you could need. Expect a bar. I’m gonna have to investigate that further if I’m going to be stuck in this tiny town for any amount of time.
Just like Luca said there’s a bright pink neon sign on the corner announcingDottie’s Drive-In Diner.It looks pulled straight out of 1952. I roll to a stop at the second stop sign and spot the sign indicatingBlue Agate Lakestraight ahead. I don’t immediately head on, wanting to get a lay of the land first. So, instead of going straight, I turn right where I see more shops and people. I guess their main street is two streets. Two very short streets.
I look in through the window toDottie’sas I roll by. Everyone inside looks pretty normal. People are dressed in modern clothing, using cell phones. No one looks out of date or backwater creepy. There’s a coffee shop across the street and I thank the coffee gods because that is one thing I cannot live without. Continuing on I also spot a bar that is not open yet since it’s still midafternoon.
