Prologue
Sunrise, just like any town, has a population of secrets. Some are trivial, blown out of proportion in a person’s mind. Some are serious and could have dire consequences if they got out in the open. Her’s was in the latter category. The secret was from many years ago, in another city in another state under another name. It was a safe bet the secret would never be known unless it came from her and, over 20 years time, she hadn’t ever come across a scenario compelling her to tell it. As a result, it had faded from her memory. When general stories about that sort of secret had come to the fore, maybe via a news report or a movie dealing with the topic, she didn’t dwell on it long. She had learned how to turn off the thoughts that went in that direction. It was something from long ago and that was all.
Chapter One
It was a Monday in October when she moved in next door. I met her when I came out to get the mail. She had just opened up her small rental moving truck and was starting to unload. My cat, Coffee, was rubbing up against the ramp that went from the truck to the garage and Mary was bending over, petting her. I walked over and introduced Coffee and myself. She responded in kind, saying her name was Mary. I had never seen a truck so tightly and perfectly packed in my entire life.
I joked, “Wow, that is amazingly full, it looks like you vacuum packed your stuff.”
She laughed and said, “No one has ever accused me of not knowing how to pack it up!”
Her eyes crinkled up as she smiled. Her light brown hair was down, about shoulder length, with a sweep towards the inside of her jaw. She had a light set of bangs. I noticed a little bump in her nose and strong eyebrows. She had on a gold and green sweatshirt and a pair of dark blue shorts, with tights underneath. Worn-in running shoes were on her feet. I wasn’t sure of her age but thought about 40 wouldn’t be too far off.
I had just finished my writing for the day and was taking a break until my next task. She didn’t seem to have anyone else around so I asked her if she needed any help. She looked at me and laughed, saying, “This? This is nothing. I have it, thanks.” I got the distinct impression she was the independent sort.
I said goodbye, picked up Coffee and said, ‘Let’s go Coffee, I don’t want you getting in her way.”
She said, ‘Thanks, she wouldn’t but I am already wanting to steal her from you so you better take her.”
I told her she could come knock on my door if she ended up needing help moving something. I went back in to pay bills, send invoices and do the drudge work of having my own business. I am not good at that side of things but I have trained myself to suffer through it so I don’t completely crash and burn as a freelancer. Coffee sat purring on my lap the whole time. After about an hour I heard a knock on the door. Mary was there, glistening a bit from the lifting but still smiling. She had lost the sweatshirt, and was now sporting a light blue short sleeve running shirt. Her hair was now back in a loose ponytail.
She said, “Actually there are a few things I can’t carry by myself, would you be willing to help me?”
I smiled and said, “Ah, turns out to be a little more than nothing, eh?”
She turned back towards her house quickly and said simply, “Yep.” The back of her shirt had a drawing of a woman running and said, ‘Does my ass look fast in these shorts?’ I didn’t say a word but I decided it did.
I followed her to the truck to find only 2 pieces of furniture left. One was an old beat up dresser, the other a small but ornate table. I took the near end of the dresser and walked backwards with it as she told me which direction to turn throughout the house. We made our way to the master bedroom where we put it on the short wall next to the door. The drawers were already piled nearby. I noticed a piece of something glittery laying on top in one of the drawers. She quickly turned out the light and led the way out.
The last piece was the ornate table. It was covered, top to bottom, including the legs, with intricately inlayed pieces of mother of pearl and different colored woods. I hadn’t seen anything like it before. As we carried it I asked her where it came from.
She said, ‘I don’t really know. My father found it in an empty house he was looking at for possible purchase many years ago. It was the only piece in the house and the realtor said the owners hated it and wanted to sell it. My father bought it right then for $500.00. He said it might be Moroccan, or maybe Syrian, but we don’t really know.”
As we set it down in the living room she pointed and said, “It came with these two chairs as well.”
Two equally detailed chairs were sitting off to the side. I definitely was wanting to ask more questions about them but she was already walking back out towards the garage where we came in. We got outside and she firmly pulled the back of the empty truck closed and pushed the ramp back in under the body.
She looked right at me, her smile with the crinkly eyes apparent again, put out her hand to shake mine and said, “Thank you very much. I really appreciate it. I have to run, got to return the truck by noon or I have to pay for another day. Thanks again.” She jumped in the cab and pulled out of the driveway aggressively.
I waved and said “Your welcome.”
Coffee was rubbing up against the corner of her house.
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This is the second in a series about a fictional town in Oklahoma named Sunrise.
You can read the first short story, Sunday in Sunrise, here. It was written in 2011.
