The Trinket Ch. 05

Lynn closed the door to the motel room and walked to her car. Her luggage held in one hand, the Dream Catcher and purse in the other. Walking to the rear of the Saab, Lynn sat her luggage down and put the key in the slot and turned it. As the trunk opened she took notice of the lights by the highway. 'Grill' lit up like a beacon in the night to an empty stomach.

She put her suitcase in the hatch and closed it. She raised the Dream Catcher up and took a glancing look as she walked to the passenger side of the Saab. Stroking the feathers and contemplating where the lost feather could be. She left the clean up crew a big mess in her attempt to find it.

She counted the feathers one more time. "123 ... 456 ... 78," Lynn sighed then put the Trinket in the seat and shut the car door. She turned on her heels and followed the scented trail of food.

The Last Chance Bar and 'Grill' was a service station, truck stop, café and motel combination. Lynn slid into a booth towards the back where it was mostly vacant. A few 'truck' drivers sat at the 'bar' and drank coffee and flirt with the petite young Native American waitress.

She walked over towards Lynn with a pad in hand and a glass of water. The two truck drivers lightly whistled as they got the 'wiggle' while she was walking away strut, a big tip encouragement.

The waitress set the glass of water down and then pulled the menu from the stand where it is kept on each table. Lynn smiled and took the menu from her hand.

"Thank you," Lynn said then began opening the menu.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" The waitress asked, standing there smiling.

"Uh, no water's fine, thank you." Lynn replied then scan the country cooking' gourmet list.

"When you're ready to order, just let me know!" She said then walked away. The truckers were in verbal wait like wolves unable to resist howling at the moon.

Lynn had pretty much decided on the chef salad but was thumbing down the list in case something grabbed her appetite's eye. Her scan of the entire 'grill' gripped her vision when she saw a wall with a lot of old Indian paintings and pictures. Some pictures were blown up in size like that of the Railroad and trains, an old ghost town, caves, silver mine and collection of local memorabilia. Local High School banners and team pictures.

One painting caught Lynn's eye. Old Indian women with long gray hair in braids over her shoulders and one feather from her hair. Her sunken smile was the give away. Lynn was sure it was the woman whom had sold her the Trinket.

"You ready to order?" The waitress appeared. Lynn hadn't seen her coming and was slightly startled but quickly smiled.

"Yes," Lynn looked at the menu then put it back in its place. "Chef salad please, with no dressing." The waitress scribbled the order then smiled.

"Coming right up," she spun a quick spin for the truckers viewing.

"Excuse me," Lynn said kindly and the waitress stopped. As she turned around, Lynn asked, "Who is that." Lynn pointed at the painting of the Old Indian woman that hung on the wall of pictures.

"Little Breeze? The Old woman?" The waitress asked in confirmation of what Lynn was pointing to. Just then the door to the 'grill' opened and a small gust of wind blew through the doorway. Another trucker walked up to the other two and they exchanged handshakes and "How do's!"

"Yes, the old Indian woman," Lynn said bringing the conversation back to focus.

"Hum, she is an Indian Medicine woman. 'Little Breeze' is very good medicine, as they say. She is like the white mans Robin Hood. She went around helping the poor people, fixing problems and saved the town a long time ago." The waitress shot a 'wait one minute' finger to the new customer and then turned back to Lynn. "One Chef Salad coming right up!" She smiled then left.

Lynn heard her trail off, "Hi, how are you? What can I get you tonight?" The waitress had an inviting way about her. Charming the new customer and melting into her work.

"Little Breeze?" Lynn stared at the picture, trying to let everything soak in. Her dream came flooding back into her mind and she instinctively began looking for spiders. Then checked her fingers for tacky residue. She taught about the old woman and her purchase, Her life, the heat, the trip, her father's death and the reading of the will. Her marriage that seem to just exist. Lynn gazed back at the picture hard.

"White man's Robin Hood?" Lynn kicked the thought around in her head a moment, "Daddy always like to think he was Robin Hood," she snickered.

Lynn closed the door to the Saab and put the key into the ignition and turned it on but not to the point of starting the motor. She fumbled with the radio dial then settled on a station.

"Here we have country and western music, both in one radio station," Lynn chuckled, recalling a remark her husband always said that made her laugh. She reached over and set her purse to ride and hold the Trinket's feathers down on the car seat.

Lynn took one of the feathers between her fingers and rubbed the texture lightly. She looked out in to the night sky for more of a way to keep from crying than to soak up the scenic view of the moon's rising.

She looked back at the dash of the Saab and found her strong inner self and turned the car's motor on. "I wish I was already there and didn't have to make this drive," Lynn said under breath as she put the Saab in gear. "Of course I wouldn't mention that to Tom."

She spun her tires on the gravel and the car shot straight for the highway. A diesel truck blew it's horn loudly and a set of big bright lights barreled towards her. When the loud horn quit blowing the sound of screeching, locked up tires filled Lynn's ears.

The crash was inevitable judging the distance of the truck at her grill. Lynn threw her arms upward. Expecting to be plowed over by an eighteen-wheeler and shielding her eyes from the blinding headlights. The last thing she thought about was ... I didn't fasten my seat belt! "Aaaaa!" She screamed.

Lynn sat with her arms up for a moment then began to scream again. As she lowered her arms from their protective blocking shield. Slowly she lowered them in front of her. The first thing she noticed was the feather in her hand. She put the feather in front of her face closely and looked at it long and hard.

"What the ..."

She looked outward, curious why she wasn't smashed from the crash she was sure she was just involved in. She felt her body, then her legs then turned to look around. A clock on the wall displayed the time: 7:00.

"A room? What in the hell is going on?" Lynn glanced all around the room. The bed she sat on had a gold, silken bed spread that she quickly became engrossed in the feel of her hands light glide over the cushioned plain. "That's not hospital issue."

Her long brushing arm come around to a part of the bed that showed the Dream Catcher hanging on the bedpost. She quickly pulled her hand up to view the feather she had held tightly only to find that she held tightly to nothing. It was gone. She sprang from the bed and quickly began looking around the floor.

"Not again," Lynn went to the Dream Catcher and counted the feathers. "123 ... 45 ...67," Lynn fumbled to count them several times to ensure her count is correct.

"What in the world?" Lynn's face rolled with realization as her mouth drew open as the thought grew.

"I'm dead!" Lynn stood straight up and began feeling her body. Uncertain of her realities she was frozen where she stood. Glancing about and listening. She pinched her self, "Ouch!" She thought as she laughed at her silliness. She then began searching her room for answers. She saw her luggage at the foot of the bed. The Dream Catcher hung from the post. Her purse was on the dresser by the vanity mirror, along with her keys and digital wristwatch.

"I'm dead," she sat on the bed and allowed her head to fall forward. Unsure of anything at this point, Lynn took a deep breath. "I saw the truck! I know it hit the car! I didn't hear the crash?" Lynn tilted her head sideways and moved it slowly, in thought, as if to roll the answer around inside her skull.

The phone rang in the hotel room breaking the silence. "Ring ring ... ring ring," Lynn looked up at the phone. "Do they have phones in heaven?"