Forgotten Part 1

Forgotten Part 1

The door chimed as it opened to let the small shop know that another customer had arrived. A young woman sat down at a table, in a form-fitting blue tee and blue jeans. Her red hair loose around her, her brown eyes glanced around. Most of the other customers had coffees or refreshments of some sort in front of them. Some having books or newspapers even the occasional laptop could be seen. She liked the atmosphere of the little coffee shop.
The stage to the left of the tables was more of a landing than a stage, only about two or three able to be up there to perform at once, the usual things, poetry, literature readings, and the occasional comedian. She got up ordering an iced teas from the counter against a wall, a little further than kiddy-corner the stage, before sitting back down.
She had arrived just in time for an act, she watched if it was another comedian she would take her tea and go, she wasn’t in the mood. She wanted a break, something soothing , maybe the poetry she heard sometimes.
The next act was a young man with black hair and a youthful face containing two pale blue eyes. He straightened his brown jacket sitting on the stool behind the microphone with an acoustic guitar resting on his lap. His foot tapped anxiously on the wood as he started to play.
That’s it… the young woman thought, that comforting tone, she laid her head in her arms to watch.
“…Sister, self is just another phrase for a long war… afraid to go forward, afraid to look back… just a fighter, forever a dreamer… missing that half of myself I lost long ago… Just a fighter… “He tapped his foot a little more comfortable with being up on stage. She closed her eyes, thoughts coming to her about how much she wished she could be someone else , maybe one of the cashiers or one of the other customers that would be returning to work or their families within the hour, “…listen up now, all these words of a price have some deep meaning. Not afraid to die, but afraid to love the way humans do everyday… Just a fighter working this slaughter… In this doubting world there’s not much more. Just a fighter, on an indefinite path…” She drank her tea, before she realized it, it was half gone. She sighed looking up to watch the young man finish, “… just as you’ve learned, you are bowed by others chains… just a fighter, trying my hardest… with no end, no cure in sight… just a fighter…” he stood up with a deep breath. There was a collection of soft snaps. He gave a curt bow before leaving, guitar over one shoulder, hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Next up was a poet, but the young woman had already headed for the door, she needed to be back before it was noticed that she had made a stop from her errands. She strode back in the opposite direction of the town passing the left end of the coffee shop.
The young man walked out the side door with his coffee, he noticed something out of his peripheral vision. He turned to receive the blow full on, of the girl he noticed inside the shop stride full force into him. He had been in mid-stop from turning, he fell backwards. The coffee spilling on the leg of his jeans.
“I’m sorry…” the young woman bowed as he stood up.
He got to his feet with a grudging, “don’t worry about it,” he dropped the now empty Styrofoam cup into the trash bin next to the door.
“I wasn’t watching where I was going and…” She stuttered.
“Its not that big a deal really… miss…” he motioned to her.
“Rannon,” she answered bluntly, “… I still should have paid attention, “ she added quickly.
“I wasn’t exactly paying attention either, but you’re right running over pedestrians is a problem,” he smiled.
Rannon frowned , “I really am in a hurry, I have to get going…” she started to walk passed him.
He turned to walk with her, “what’s got a coffee shop kid like you in such a hurry?” he raised an eyebrow.
“I have places to be, “ she looked at him a moment, “wait…a minute… you’re…”
He nodded, “Lawrence, the guy you ran over a moment ago…”
She pointed to the case he moved to pick up, “the guitarist from inside, “ he blew his bangs from his eyes.
“I wouldn’t go that far… everybody’s got a hobby, “ Lawrence stated holding the case over shoulder.
“I suppose so…,” Rannon turned to be on her way again, “I have to get going…”
Lawrence shrugged, “see ya’ around.” Rannon didn’t know whether to wave or to roll her eyes. She settled on the more polite of the two, waving, since she did knock him over.
What are the chances? Rannon wondered as she walked away, that she would run into him right outside the coffee shop. At least he was friendly…. She sighed, she had more important things to worry about. Ostara was on the way, signaling the Spring Equinox. Rannon was never excited like the others for the holiday. She pretended to enjoy the festivities until she could sneak away and enjoy the night on her own. She shook her head from side to side, this was no time to be doubting herself.
She wondered whether she would ever run into him again, well not run into him, see him again. She fiddled with the silver amulet around her neck, a thorned rose set in a circle along a thing silver chain. She sighed her walk, her breath of fresh air had ended.
An old Victorian styled home having pale blue siding loomed before her, it had a presence that most people could not quite put their finger on, an old presence that seemed to ward the people off from getting too close, but Rannon knew better. She hurried up the front steps of the home.
Upon entering the redwood door, she hopped slipping off her sandals. She was greeted by an older woman sitting in a chair in a long black dress, on the couch was two giggling twin women one of them looking like a slightly stretched out version of the other.
“Please… Lydia, Layla…” the elder woman said in a low demanding voice. Layla, the stretched out twin and her sister Lydia, the pretty one snapped to attention, “back already dear?” the older woman shifted in her seat.
“I am sister,” Rannon replied with a curt bow, “there wasn’t much I needed to do today. How is the readying for Ostara coming?” Rannon asked using the name for the Spring Equinox that pointed in the direction of their tradition.
“Very well, I think the mother will be pleased…” the elderly woman pressed on the arm of the chair to stand up. She was tall and slender, taller than the other women in the room, “her patron comes to us this evening…”
It took all Rannon had resist a shiver, a patron… meaning some sort of creature, a messanger of the goddess herself. It was said that they knew all and saw all, would the thing know of the doubt deep in her heart?
She gave a nod, “yes elder Kalyca I understand.”




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