Love and Its Lies

Two ‐ City Girl

“A ghost?” Fred bellowed, followed by a fit of laughter, after a panicked Aly told him and Marion what she had just witnessed in the corridor.

Marion elbowed him in the ribs and smiled apologetically at Aly. “Come on, dear, let’s get you some coffee first. You look frazzled.” She led her to sit at the dining area—a small hall with 5 sets of wooden tables and chairs draped in old white fabric, a corner for the coffee maker and a sack of beans, and a vending machine for colas and another for chips. If Aly had less on her mind, she would have thought for the 3rd time that day that these people badly needed an interior designer.

Marion offered her a cup of coffee and sat beside her. Fred, meanwhile, stood in front of them smoking his pipe.

“Tell me again,” he said with an amused expression, “what kind of ghost did you see?”

Aly was well aware that she was being made fun of—in fact, if this were anyone else, she would probably be reacting like the old man as well.

“I know it sounds crazy, but there was this—this man wearing worn‐out clothes who suddenly just…poofed! Disappeared! At the dead-end!”

Marion looked unsure beside her. “Aly, I’ve been here since my parents were running this place—that’s more than 50 years now, and not once have we ever seen ghosts. You’re probably just tired from—”

“But the flickering lights! And he was missing a shoe!”

Fred nervously laughed as Marion shot him a glare. “I was meaning to fix the lights later!” he said in defense.

“B‐but his tweed coat had scratches—” Aly kept on insisting, unaware that someone else had entered the room.

“Oh, I think you’re talking about me…” Aly's head turned towards the unfamiliar voice. There, on the doorway, awkwardly stood the “ghost" that she had run from. Aly's eyes couldn’t believe it, but there he was, dressed in dirty and tattered clothing, missing one shoe, and with his hair looking like a bird's nest. Although, without the flickering lights and with an embarrassed look on his face, he now looked more of a homeless or a deranged professor than a ghost.

Aly’s wide eyes scanned him from head to toe, her brain unable to process everything. “I-it's him!” She told the old couple. “But he disappeared!”

The man held up a key, and Fred explained, “He's our new guest, Danny. Came in a bit after you did.” Turning to Marion, he said, “Heavens, this is the first time we’ve had two guests check in on the same night! Ever since Wendell returned, this town's becoming more of a hotshot!”

Aly's heart skipped a beat at the mention of John's last name, and for a second she completely forgot what she was panicking about.

“He's at the end of the hall, few steps after your room.” Fred added.

Danny looked self-conscious as he touched his hair and clothes. “I think I should explain? I don’t usually look like this, but my car broke down midway, so I tried to find a shortcut in the woods—I heard a wolf howling, so I panicked and—” he gestured at the state of himself. “It was a rough night, as you can tell. I came down here because the light in my bathroom isn’t working…”

Fred raised a hand and walked towards him. “Let me help you with that, come on. You have to excuse the city girl over there…”

As they left, Marion put a gentle hand on Aly’s shoulder and said, “No ghosts, honey.”

Aly nodded, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Sorry, it’s just that this place is hella scary—sorry, I meant—”

Marion laughed, looking like she was not a bit offended. “It’s fine. Tourists occasionally come here to do ghost-hunting, but they always leave disappointed. We keep the place that way so more enthusiasts would visit.”

With that, Aly apologized once again and went back to her room—picking up the tray of food she left on the floor—and ate her dinner. She had planned to remain inconspicuous at the town, but now she probably seemed like a crazy lady to all of them.

As the night matured, and Aly settled, she went out to the balcony. It offered her a good look of the main street below and the rest of the town, as most of the buildings and houses were wider than they were tall. The streets were still empty, and the sight of it gave her the creeps, but Aly excitedly wondered which part of the town housed John. She planned to explore the next day, determined to get to know the place in which the love of her life grew up in, but more so she could have a “casual run-in" with him in the streets.

Giddily, she climbed into her sheets and thought about the million possibilities that tomorrow would bring.

For the first time in her entire life, Aly was woken up the sound of a rooster crowing. Aly sat up in a jolt, feeling disoriented at the unfamiliar surroundings until the memories of yesterday returned.

With newfound determination, she took a bath and prepared for the day ahead of her—a day where she could possibly see John, strike up a conversation with him, and eventually go back to the city as his girlfriend. Even though the latter was a bit farfetched, Aly smiled just at the thought of it, even if reason was telling her that it was a bogus idea.

At 8 in the morning, she parted the curtains and looked below—what once looked like a deserted town was now buzzing with people going about their day. Completely different from the depressing atmosphere the night held.

Aly felt her heart stop as she saw a familiar figure walking down the street. “John,” she whispered excitedly as she watched him greet an old couple walking then enter a building that looked like a diner.

Aly rushed out of her room, down the stairs and was about to leave when she saw Fred mopping the lobby. He had a look on his face like he wanted to laugh as he saw her pass.

“Morning, miss. Breakfast's ready if you’d like,” he said, staring at her clothes with a hint of judgment.

“I’ll get it later, I’ll head out first to… explore.” Aly answered, but before she could take another step, Fred said, “Are you sure you want to go out dressed so lightly?”

Aly was dressed in yoga pants and a tattered shirt, which were the only clothes she had that could “fit in.”

“I don’t know if your city girl clothes can withstand the cold. It’s going to rain later, and when it does, you’ll be freezing,” Fred added when he saw her confusion.

It was almost always warm in the city, so Aly had not thought to bring a coat. Embarrassed, she quietly asked, “Is there anywhere—”

“Two buildings to the left,” Fred supplied with a smile. Aly thanked him and went on her way. As soon as she opened the doors, a gust of cold wind cut through her clothes. Fred was right.

In a rush, Aly followed his directions and ended up in a thrift shop where clothes were priced way cheaper than she had ever seen. She hauled a couple of jackets and changed into a pair of clothes that made her look less of a “city girl” that Fred could mock. The cashier was more than happy as she paid for the heap of clothing.

“You seem new,” he said.

“Yes, I just got here. Just visiting.”

“I’m Mark. Where are you from?” he asked as he slowly counted the change. Aly understood the excitement of seeing a new face in town, but she held no interest in small-talk. She had to get to where John was before he leaves the building!

“Australia,” Aly quickly lied. Her foot started to tap anxiously as she tried to maintain a kind face. When Mark finally gave her the change, he was about to ask another question, but she immediately thanked him and went on her way.

Aly jogged out of the shop and tried to remember where John went. Finally, she spotted the diner, and with a thumping heart she kept her head low and entered. She immediately spotted him eating by the counter. Aly took a seat at the booth farthest from him and hid herself behind a menu, when a server approached.

“Hiya! What’ll it be?” she asked with a friendly smile, which turned into a confused frown. “You’re not from around here, are you? I’m May.”

Thankfully, the place was filled to the brim with people for John to even overhear their conversation. Aly had planned to initially tail—no, silently observe—him first before making any moves, and gaining attention everywhere she went was no help at all.

Still trying her best to keep herself hidden, she meekly answered, “Just coffee and toast, please.”

“Would you like some butter or jam on the side? We also have eggs, bacon—”

Aly didn’t want to seem rude, but the more the waitress talked to her the higher the chance John would notice. As kindly as she could, she interrupted, “Just some plain toast and, uh, butter. I’m on a diet.”

The girl, May, nodded and jotted down her order on a small piece of paper. “Alright, be with you in jiff.”

Aly breathed a sigh of relief as May handed the order to the kitchen and started chatting other customers, calling them all by their names. It seemed that everyone really knew every one in this town.

As her order arrived in no less than 3 minutes, Aly quietly observed. John continued to eat, smiling and talking to one of the cooks. He looked so different from when Aly would see him in the city—he would usually be wearing a neat suit or a collared shirt, and his brown curly hair would always be styled to keep away from his face. Here, he was wearing what looked like a fisherman’s jacket and old baggy jeans, with his hair dangling on the sides and his forehead. He looked more comfortable and approachable, like how he first did at the start of college. Aly was a witness to how much his style and demeanor had drastically changed in a span of 6 years.

“Both looks suit him,” Aly giggled into her coffee.

She took a while to appreciate her surroundings. It was also her first time in an actual diner—the hipster diners in the city didn’t count. May looked like the textbook definition of a peppy diner waitress, what with her apron, pencil behind her ear, notepad, and high ponytail. The place was mostly filled with an aging population reading newspapers, and a small TV hanging on the wall showed the daily news.

Aly watched as the news suddenly showed a photo of the building that John and Brenda worked at. With a frown, she tried to listen in. “Barrington… COO David Camp… embezzlement allegations…” were the keywords she heard. Barrington and Company was where John worked. Were they in trouble? But why would John leave in the middle of a scandal?

“Wendell, isn’t that where you work?” Aly overheard May ask. John smiled and answered something Aly couldn’t make out. He then paid for the bill, thanked the cook and made his way to the door.

Aly quickly finished her coffee—scalding her tongue in the process—and took two large bites of the toast she was uninterested in. As she was getting cash from her wallet, she noticed that guy from the hotel—Dan? Danny?—exit the diner a few seconds after John.

Aly was unsure how much to pay, so she just handed a bill to May on her way out. “Keep the change, thanks for the food.” She said in a hurry. Judging by May's reaction, she probably handed her way more money than needed.

She followed John as he walked the streets and entered the run-down grocery store. As Aly made her way in, she noticed the guy from the hotel standing by a tree. He had a newspaper in his hands, but was looking at something inside the store. Thinking nothing of it, Aly entered and made sure to keep a distance from her subject.

She watched him hum while picking up toiletries and a large tub of bleach—he’s probably buying in bulk. He probably cleans his house well for his sick mother, how domestic! Aly thought, mindlessly picking up a razor and female products as she listened to him hum to the song playing in the store.

John paid for his things in the counter and engaged in small talk with the boy behind the cashier. Something about how the boy's all grown up and helping his dad out. Aly always knew he was great with kids—one of his many, many charms.

After paying, John said goodbye to the boy and left the building. Aly was about to leave as well when the boy called out, “Hey, you paying for that, lady?”

Aly turned red and immediately put the things on the counter. Embarrassed, she said, “Sorry, my head's in the gutter.”

The boy knowingly smiled at her then nodded at the exit. “You a fan of Wendell?” He teased.

“No!” she denied too quickly. “I’m—I’m just new to the town so I was observing how things worked.”

“Are grocery stores different in the city?” The boy innocently asked as he put all of her things in a bag.

Aly was quick on her feet. “Yeah, I got used to self check-outs,” she said, which was only half a lie. “All just goes in the card and I can bring stuff out without bagging them.”

The boy—much to Aly's relief—seemed to believe her. “That sounds neat. But, here, you have to bring things to the cashier—that’s me. It used to be my dad but he’s training me to be my own man now. I’m 13, you know,” He said with such pride.

Aly awkwardly smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. “Good for you!”

The boy snickered as he handed the bag and her change. “You’re weird, lady.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Thanks for this, um,” she read the name tag on his shirt, “Brian.”

Aly left the store, mentally kicking herself for almost shoplifting. She began to walk in the direction where John headed. She saw him chatting with someone in front of the church—probably the priest, judging by his collar. She stopped by a tree so she wouldn’t be in plain sight, and pretended to look over her groceries.

In the corner of her eye, she noticed a familiar figure. There, just on a wooden bench at the other side of the street, sat the guy from the hotel. He was still reading the newspaper. Looking at him in broad daylight, he seemed so harmless now. Aly almost didn’t recognize him with his thick‐rimmed glasses, clothes that weren’t scratched nor dirty, and wearing both shoes. Still, something about him didn’t sit quite right with her.

Aly noticed John saying goodbye to the priest—oh, his smile in broad daylight could make anyone's day!—then walked further down the road. She kept a good 20 steps away, walking slowly and trying to memorize the streets. The hair at the back of her neck stood, and suddenly she had a feeling that she was being followed.

Aly risked a glance to the side, and saw that the man—Danny? Daniel? What was it?—was walking a few steps behind. Was he following her?

Aly felt her heart beat faster. Her mother had always warned her about weirdos. The news in the city was also filled with dangerous criminals. Was this it? Was she being followed by a criminal?

Aly’s pace went faster, not caring if she’s getting a bit closer to John, as the man continued to walk in her direction.

John suddenly stopped in front of an old house and fished for his keys as he entered the gate. Aly's mind focused on the fact that she was now looking at his house. He turned the doorknob and went in. Seeing as there was no point waiting for him to leave the house—it’s not as if she could just knock and let him know that she’s an old college batch mate who somehow flew into town and knew where he lived, like a stalker! Which she clearly wasn’t She just wanted to make sure he was alright, that’s called being concerned—she made her way back to the hotel.

Aly noticed that the guy from before was still behind her, clearly following her wherever she went. Starting to feel even more frightened, Aly began to half walk and half jog as she went up the stair. At the very last step, she tripped, causing the contents of her bag to scatter as she lost her balance.

Quickly, she picked them up and made her way in, casually acknowledging Marion by the couch before dashing towards her room.

Ah, but what was the use of hiding in her room when the man knows where she was staying? Breathless, Aly closed the door behind her, but noticed that one of her shoelaces got stuck.

She opened the door again and was about to close it when she felt a hand grab her arm. Her fight and flight instinct kicked in, and with a closed fist, she turned and punched the person right in the face.