2 Chapter 2: Rapid Springs Welcomes You

The sharp tap on her window startled her awake, but when she saw her visitor was an older lady, she cracked the window open.

“Sorry, little lady,” the woman said, “but you can’t sleep here. There’s a rest stop a ways up the road.”

Aliyah simply nodded. She was mostly awake again, so she just filled up with gas, got two coffees and went on her way.

As the sun started coming back up Aliyah felt a sense of calm. Despite the small black pit she felt in her stomach, she saw beauty in the skyline as it grew orange and hopeful, and she was ready to take on whatever was to come at her. This was her first project so far from home, but she had confidence in her abilities. She wasn’t about to let her worry-wart parents ruin this opportunity.

At a stop somewhere at the edge of Indiana, Aliyah took out her phone again. She swiped away the missed calls and texts from her parents and her sister and pulled up her destination: Charleston Manor, Rapid Springs, Michigan.

The photo from the listing showcased a giant white brick manor with a two-level balcony. Pillars stood like giant oak sequoias at the front with English ivy crawling up. There must have been one hundred windows total in this place. There were seven bedrooms, two living rooms, a study, two kitchens, and a space for an aviary. It was magnificent. Aliyah didn’t understand why it had been on the market for seven years.

Aliyah knew this would be a big project and she wanted to start out strong, so she quickly reviewed her emails with the city’s mayor about the contract to refurbish the home. Four months. Mostly interior finishing. Some exterior work. Aliyah had permission to stay at the mansion while she was working on it, so she wouldn’t have to worry about paying for a place to live. She had a $30,000 budget, which she thought she could swing, though it might be a stretch for the sheer size of the place.

Reviewing the contract and seeing the pictures stirred up some excitement in her, so Aliyah drove the final two hours with the radio blaring Pink and a picture of the manor glowing in her peripheral vision.

~*~

Finally, Aliyah passed an old gray and red sign that read “Rapid Springs Welcomes You.” It was faded and the paint was flaking off some of the letters, which appeared to have been carved. Most places had metal signs, nowadays. Aliyah was starting to get some vintage vibes from the place, which wasn’t exactly what she was expecting, but she remained positive as she referenced the address for her house again and drove on.

As she got further into town, Aliyah began to pass old homes with broken lawn chairs and dated toys strewn across their yards. Porches were caving in, but the cars in the driveways were in decent shape. Aliyah didn’t see any people roaming about. And she might have thought this particular street was abandoned if it hadn’t been for all the cars in the driveways.

Aliyah grew steadily weary until she finally saw people. There was what appeared to be a small gas station up ahead, so she made her way to it, ignoring the chaos of broken-down houses that surrounded her. Her contractor mind wondered how many of the homeowners would accept a renovation.

The state of the gas station was similar to that of the welcome sign. The brick walls were chipping white paint, and the windows were thick with dust and grime. The gas pumps themselves seemed to be straight out of the ‘30s. There were even signs for free air, water, and oil checks.

Aliyah eased into the drive, partly because the concrete had begun to crack and partly because she was kind of in awe of this place. It was like a different world.

As she pulled her car gently next to the gas pump, her brakes made an awful, high-pitched screech. Perhaps she’d picked up a rock from the road (this had happened a couple times back in Santa Fe). Aliyah turned off her car and stepped out into the cool Michigan spring. She inspected the gas pump though she wasn’t in dire need of gas. When she turned back around to get her phone from her car there was a man standing behind her, leaning casually against the pillar of the awning.

She flinched a little, as she had not heard this man approach.

“God,” she gasped. “How long have you been standing there?” Her voice dropped off as she got a full view of this sudden stranger.

He looked at her with curious eyes that were nearly black. He sported a dark grey T-shirt smudged with black and brown. Though he wore a tattered jean jacket, she could tell he was well-built. The material was taut around his shoulders and biceps. Even his jeans drew snug around his legs.

He stood there, silent, working his sharp jaw, seemingly to keep from smiling.

Despite his handsome face, Aliyah was put off by his silent demeanor, so she arched a brow and stood up taller--her sister taught her that she’d seem more authoritative in this stance.

“I need--” she started, but he had begun to ask her a question at the same time. She closed her mouth and nodded her head, giving him permission to continue.

A flash of a grin crossed the stranger’s face before he repeated his question: “Do you need a fill-up?”

“I need directions.” She stated flatly.

The man pushed himself off the pillar and took a step toward her.

Aliyah suddenly became very aware of her heartbeat as he neared her. He was tall, probably over 6 feet (her dad’s height), and he smelled like oil and dust and pine trees. He just looked at her with his head cocked slightly to the left. She noticed a pointed edge of a tattoo peeking over the collar of his shirt. She wondered what it was. Briefly.

Aliyah cleared her throat and took a cautious step back. She looked this man dead in the eyes, wanting to be clear about her purpose for stopping. “Directions?” she said sharply.