It took some time for the noise to register as a cellphone, let alone Chelsea’s own. The haze of many shots of tequila and amazing food blended with the dark hotel room. Only her dog, Bentley, warm at her feet, felt familiar. For a woman used to living out of her car, the single room just big enough for the bed seemed vast and empty.
So she wandered out to the kitchen.
Well, hello, my little nun.
“Their father was a good man, but he liked women. La Llorona isn’t too fond of men like that. Their mother took exception to La Llorona killing him, cause wanderin’ eye or not, that was her man. La Llorona drowned her for it.”
Beer to her lips, an idea occurred to Chelsea. “If we can locate La Llorona, I think I can lure her in.”
Chelsea settled against her car, bottle of beer in hand, and watched the sun head for the horizon as she waited. Out here in the desert, it was quite the production. While some trees had been planted around town, this was big sky country. Different from her beloved South Dakota, but still breathtaking.
The setting sun reddened the mountains in the distance as Chelsea raced down the open road. The gas pedal wasn’t quite flat against the floor, but she was ready to speed up if need be.
When she’d gotten a job in Tucumcari, Chelsea could hardly contain her excitement. An authentic piece of Route 66 history. But like the highway system, the world had moved on.
This is a series of short stories, detailing the adventures of Chelsea Childling. You can start with her origin story or pick something from the index.*** The badly lit hotel room was dirty. Not in the well-used and loved sense, but in the Chelsea-very-much-didn’t-want-to-take-off-her-shoes sense. She sighed and pulled her feet onto the bed. The […]
Twilight brought twinkling lights and absurdly suggestive slogans at the roadside attraction. The place was famous for its risque name, and fudge, and lived up to the touristy promise of the billboards. All of of four stores and bawdy signage; the sheer over-the-top nature of the “town” overloaded Chelsea’s sense of maturity and she giggled as she contemplated buying a t-shirt.
All annoyance fled as she looked into deep brown eyes under unruly dark curls. “Morgan!” She flung herself at her former hunting partner. “I thought you were out of town.”
Morgan squeezed her back. “I was. Just got in.”
Words That Burn Like Fire 