Chapter 4

I had many strange experiences. There was the time that Casper was mistaken as a fugitive in another country, not because he was deceptively well spoken, opinionated, nor was it due to the wallet he was carrying that had a suspicious amount of money in it. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. For the sake of argument, maybe it was my fault that lead the authorities to think that way. Maybe I wanted to see how they'd react if I used reverse psychology on them. My parents weren't happy that they had to make some calls to clear things out. Casper in particular was fuming mad.

Who could forget that instance when I seduced the Sultan's son with promises of a good night even though he was engaged? There were threats of beheading after he was found leaving his chamber straight for the guest room. My room. Yada, yada, yada. All's well that ends well, I say. We weren't banned from the country after things were sorted. He still pursued his wedding. They were overreacting.

I could read what's on your mind. The one whose eyes were on this story. How come so many things have happened to me? It was to my belief that adventure should be pursued, not wished for. In time, when adventure has become a friend, an ally, the wheels would turn. You would no longer need to chase after adventure. It would come for you. Maybe that was what happened to me, which brings us back to the story.

Among the many different strange experiences I had, this was probably the least unannounced. Me waking up on the floor, head leaning on a door frame, legs crossed. I was woken by someone tapping my shoulders saying, "Excuse me. Can you let me pass through?" I looked around in a state of confusion till she said again, "I'd really want to go home. You're in the way." I realized that I was beyond a doorway, blocking her exit.

"Sorry," I said, moving away. The woman didn't look behind as she left in a hurry. I sat there for a minute or two, wondering where I was, recounting the events that happened prior. Did I hit my head?

What was a girl to do in this situation except glance southwards to see if her clothes had been disturbed. Mine wasn't. My jeans was positioned correctly, zipper up, buttoned into place. I exhaled. Losing my virginity while passed out wasn't good. No siree. Even if Lulu would classify me as the biggest tease, everything about me was intact. Mayer would be proud. Who was Mayer again?

After the assessment, I pushed myself up with a grunt and looked behind me, to the place I have taken refuge from. There were people, lots of them. Maybe someone from inside could tell me any information.

Soft, catchy jazz music reached my ears soon as I opened the door. I inhaled, appreciating the smell of roasted beans and cream in the air. It was a full house for the cafe, though I recognized none of the customers.

"Hi," I said, once reaching the counter. The barista, a stooped old lady wearing a yellow apron and a flower crown, smiled at me. Everyone was wearing flower crowns. Did I somehow stumble into a party of some sort? "This may seem weird coming from a stranger," I continued, turning back to her. "Did you see anyone, uhh, suspicious in the vicinity? I woke up next to your door a while ago. I was wondering who brought me here."

The old woman fixed her gaze on me, crow's feet appearing on the side of her eyes. I stared right back. She shook her head. "Didn't see anyone, miss, except for the usual customers. You must be new to the neighborhood. Haven't come across your face before." Her concern grew when I nodded. She gestured to the only free chair on the corner. "I usually reserve that spot for Lynx, but since she's not here, you might as well take it. I'll bring you coffee in a few. On the house. You look like you need it."

"Thank you." I went to the unoccupied spot. Who this Lynx was, I didn't know. Where I was, I didn't know either. I did a quick scan of the coffee shop. It had yellow lights hanging above the tables, customary with cafe's. The furniture's were matching colors of brown, beige, with a pop of blue and orange here and there. On the walls were framed quotes, cliché ones relating to coffee like, 'I only need coffee in days ending with Y.' And there was a chalkboard near the counter announcing the drink for the day. Tonight it was peppermint mocha.

All of this might seem normal at first glance, yet I couldn't shake off a strange feeling. There was something about this place that wasn't like any I've visited before. I couldn't put my finger on it.

A group of girls from the next table startled me when they all gave a cry of frustration as their game of Jenga toppled to its bitter end. At the same time, the strong scent of caffeine wafted in my nose as the old lady from the counter put a cup in front of me. "They're a lively bunch," she commented.

"Is it always this full?" I asked, sipping on the coffee. I did a double take on the liquid I just drank. Creamy and rich without being overpowering. It was actually good.

"I'm afraid this is always the case, but you'll find your place if you stick around. Most of them are friends. We have a tight-knit community here," the old lady explained.

"I can imagine." My attention was drawn to two girls sitting side by side, sharing a deep look. I continued drinking my coffee. Hmmm. Peachy. The next time I blinked, they had their lips locked together, tongue darting out of their mouths, arms wrapped possessively around each other. My jaw dropped.

"Don't mind them," the old lady said. "Those two lovebirds are always fighting in the morning and making up at night. We're all used to it."

A fast sweep on the place made me realize something. All women. No guys. Most of them were in groups, but the girls that weren't were accompanied by another woman who was focused on them, as if they were on a date.

The corner of my lips pulled into a mischievous smile. Ideas were on my head, the bolts and nuts sealing into place. I jumped up, putting a hand on the old woman's shoulder. "Please tell this Lynx person that I'm grateful she opened a spot for me tonight," I said.

The old woman knew that I was about to leave. I had that look on me. "Are you coming back?"

"Definitely."

The next morning, I was shaking Lulu, screaming near her ear. "Wake up, I have the greatest story to tell you." She didn't stir. The girl was a heavy sleeper. There was only one way to rouse her, and that was by grabbing the voodoo doll from the desk and going to the open window to dangle the thing there by its foot. "I wonder what will happen if it falls from the second floor," I said, pronouncing each word clearly. "It won't break, but someone, a kid who wants a new toy may get it."

Lulu sat up and stared daggers my way. The trick always worked. No matter how sleepy or tired she was, Lulu would know when her precious materials were stolen. "Put it back," she said. I tossed it to her without a fight. She was calmer when the doll was safely tucked under the pillow away from me. "What's so important that you have to do this? Don't you have a heart? I was up all night waiting for you."

"That's why I love you," I said with a flourish of my hand. "Let bygones be bygones. Anyway, I've found the solution to my dilemma. You know how I need to have a sample group for my study? I've found them, Lu, the nesting grounds of lesbica. They fell right on my lap. I still have to find an additional group to survey, but that could be done on the streets or online. This is for the actual observation phase. Do you get me?"

She yawned, dropped on the bed, and pulled the cover over her face. "This is too much to take in the morning. Can we have coffee first, please?"

"That's the best thing about it," I said. "It's in a coffee shop. I'll take you this afternoon so you can see it for yourself. In the meantime, take a bath, go and get decent. I'll be expecting you in an hour. We need a massage." She groaned her answer.

Before we went to the spa, we spent the rest of the morning figuring out what clothes needed to be discarded and which could still be used. Lulu offered to pay for the ones she'd ruined, but I was having none of it. Clothes were just clothes. She'd have to be more careful next time was all. Despite some of her misgivings, I wouldn't choose any other Watson to be by my side. No one else would have her patience when it came to me. That I was sure of.

"That's the last of it," I said to Lulu, poking my head in the laundry room. "Tomorrow someone will drop by to unload it from our hands for charity. If you want to give anything else like books, food, whatever, you can put it in the bag. Don't include money, okay? Bank transfers are more reliable." My phone vibrated. "Give me a sec, I think someone's calling." I fished my phone out and chose the option for answering. "Hello?"

"Hey Scotland. How are things?"

I walked away from the laundry room to hear Casper's voice better. The signal there was atrocious. "Absolutely delightful," I said. "When are you coming for a visit? It's perfect here. The houses are old-fashioned. The town is peaceful. The neighbors are friendly. I'm going to convince Lulu to enroll, at the cost of being impaled through voodoo, so you may want to transfer universities too."

"You know I can't. My friends are here." When did that ever stop him from going back to us? We were more important than the people he met in that state, and he knew it. "How's Lulu?" he segued.

"Why are you asking?"

"Just checking if she's still alive. I don't want you to be left by yourself. We're all going to worry."

The subject of his inquiry reached my side just then. I pointed to the phone, mouthing to Lulu that it was Casper I was talking to. Her cheeks turned pink. "She's here. We're arranging our old clothes for charity, then we're off to the spa. All that cooking and cleaning," and waking up on the floor, I thought, "made my back stiff. I can give Lulu the phone if you want to talk to her." My best friend stared hopefully at me.

Casper sighed from the other line. "Tomorrow. I'll talk to her tomorrow," he said. "Jessie and my friends are asking me to leave. I need to go. I'll drop by soon, sis. I'm glad you're okay." I didn't ask, or more like, I wasn't given the chance to ask who this Jessie was. He'd ended the call.

"He's in a hurry," I said to Lulu, diverting my eyes so I wouldn't see her face fall. "We should get going too. Spa's are always full. We don't want to wait that long."

We found a parking spot several blocks from the establishment. It was the only downside of living here, as we were told by the realtor on the phone before buying the lot. Because of the college students and tourists often visiting the place, parking places were rarely free. The opened ones were always far from the intended destination, which was why walking was a strict option.

The spa was a haven of essential oils, water fountains on the walls, and dim lighting. An employee welcomed us with a polite bow and a cheery smile. "My friend and I want to have a full body massage," I said. "We forgot to make a reservation. Is there an available slot?" They better. I didn't go all the way here for nothing.

"Perfect timing, ma'am. Two of our customers, a mother and daughter had to cancel their session for today. Right this way please." She took us to a dressing room where we could change into white robes and fluffy slippers. "Enjoy your stay," she said, handing each of us a glass of iced tea. "The masseuse will be with you shortly." She then directed Lulu, then me, to a private room where she informed me to recline on the massage bed before leaving.

I rested my face on the small hole that would allow me to breathe. Shortly after, the door slid open, and someone came inside. Probably the masseuse. "My lower back hurts," I said, reaching behind me without looking up. "You won't believe me if I tell you that I woke up on the floor last night, but if you can take care of that, I'll give you a good tip."

I let the masseuse do her own ritual, which usually involved taking the materials she would need to pamper me. Before long, she was stripping me from the robe, covering my backside with a towel. I shivered when her hands came in contact with my skin.

She started with a gentle massage, a soft press, like a baker playing with dough. It developed into a richer palpation as she kneaded the right spots. I sighed in contentment. My mother should hire her. She'd be a welcome addition to our staff. From my neck, she then went to my spine, using her masterful fingers to soothe my aching muscles. "Oh God, you're good," I said, my eyes fluttering close. She was the best masseuse I've encountered in my life. Even the ones in Bali were no match, and they received a secret special training from what I've heard.

I rooted my mind to the present where the masseuse was loosening the knots that have formed from yesterday's shenanigans. She'd reached the area separating my buttocks and lower back, and was expertly putting pressure on it. As a joke I said, "Your boyfriend must be very happy. I mean, who wouldn't want to come home to this, right?" Her fingers slid lower, making my legs weaken.

When the pressure turned to rubbing, I was reduced to a puddle of sensations. The oil wetted my inner thighs, slick and slippery. Was this part of the massage?

With the repetitive movement, something, a build up, swelled inside of me. Suddenly, I felt hot and bothered. "Just continue," I said, sounding out of breath. She rubbed a bit faster. The swelling intensified as if I was about to explode. A moan escaped my mouth. Higher. Higher. More. Oh God! She withdrew her hands at the wrong second, pushing me from the top of the tallest mountain, crashing back to earth, my face flat on the ground.

I squeezed my legs together, my heart palpating as I gasped for breath. I tried to make sense of what happened. It felt like. . . The throbbing was. . . I have never. She was leaving the room when I rose up to check, but not before I saw the ring on her finger as she turned the corner, uncannily similar to the one the taxi driver was wearing.

"We're leaving," I said to Lulu on the lobby. "Did you pay them? Good. Come on." I dragged her away from the building.

"You're in a hurry," Lulu complained when we were in the car. "How was the massage?"

"Forget about the massage. I'm excited to bring you to the cafe," I lied, keeping my gaze front and centered. I haven't told her about the circumstances that brought me there. Now I wasn't so sure if I should.

The cool wind from the open window helped me calm down. I regrouped myself. By the time we got to the coffee shop, the crazy thoughts have been shoved in a box, sealed with a key, thrown to the sea. Once more, I was the cheerful friend, all goals and projects.

"That's it," I said, killing the engine.

Lulu glanced at the building. In the daylight, it looked nothing more than a normal coffee shop, though I knew the magic really happened inside. "How did you find this place?" she said.

"A bit of digging," I said vaguely. "Let's go."

Like last night, the smell of roasted coffee was inviting when we came inside. I rushed to the counter, expecting to see the old woman and her flower crown. It was a different barista who welcomed me. A man in a black apron and cap, his goatee being his prominent feature. He spent more time than humanly acceptable staring at my face. "I suggest the crème brulee blend. We have a promo for today," he said, swallowing.

"I'll have two of those," I confirmed, looking around, uninterested with him. "Is the old lady here? I wasn't able to ask for her name last night."

"Old lady?"

They must have had different shifts. How silly of me. "She's about this tall, kind of stooped, brown eyes, very motherly," I described. "I want to ask her something for a project. She was here around two in the morning. Or maybe you can tell me what time you usually change shifts so I can wait for her, if that's possible."

The barista scratched his chin, perplexed. At least his tongue wasn't on the floor anymore. I've grown tired of men acting like an idiot around me. "Are you sure you're in the right cafe?"

"I was here last night. I wouldn't be asking you if I wasn't sure." This was the place. The lights, the quotes on the wall, the furniture's, everything was correct except for him. The guy could have been new.

"There must be a mistake, miss," he said. "We close at ten o'clock every day, sharp. Also, nobody by that description works here."