Amber by Dan-Dwayne Spencer (e book reader .TXT) 📕

Stoney must have been freaked out by what happened just as bad as the rest of us, but he bravely put the van in gear and pulled out into the meager traffic heading into Blue Eye.

Our brightly painted VW van wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. It screamed the hippies are in town as it rolled down the streets of little Blue Eye, and we got more than a few stares. Stoney drove it into the county library’s gravel parking lot. It was an old red brick building with a dozen steep, concrete steps leading up to the front door. I had no idea what era it came from, for all I knew they could have built it before the Civil War. Out front, a recently added sign read: Temporary Residence of the Stone County Public Library - Our New Location will be here in Blue Eye at 138 State Highway EE.

He put the van in park and no one attempted to get out. I think we were all too shaken up and needed a few minutes to come to terms with what happened to us. Even Roger who sat beside me dripping with wet mud appeared content to do nothing but ponder and stare at the old building.

Flower eventually asked, “How did you bring us back? Exactly how did you know what to do to send us back to our reality?”

“I didn’t. Mr. Dark knew. He shook me enough to see what was going on around me,” I replied.

Stoney spoke up, “the only one of us who had the vision to see through the enchantment was Arland. If it wasn’t for him, and Mr. Dark, then we would be enjoying the Woodstock concert until Ishtar spread death across the planet.

Roger replied, “And, that would be the end.”

“I’m sure, Dark watched out more for himself than for us.” Flower’s statement sounded a lot like a question.

“No, actually, he surprised me,” I admitted. “It was his idea to snap you guys back from the wherever.”

Flower pulled her eyebrows together and showed concern over my answer. I let it go. What was there to say? For once, Dark did the right thing.

Roger said, “Next time you talk to your dark side, tell him thank you for me.”

“Can we talk about something else, please?” Jimmy insisted. “This is freaking me out. I want to forget the whole thing ever happened.”

“And I wanna date with Sally Field, but that’s not going to happen,” Roger sneered. “The image Arland forced into my mind is going to be with me for the rest of my life.”

Stoney said, “Let’s hope the rest of your life is longer than the end of the week.” He got out of the van and headed into the library.

I retorted, “Good point.”

Jimmy was the next one out, pushing his way past me and Roger to get to the door.

Roger motioned to his dirty clothes and mud matted hair. “I’ll wait here in the van. I can’t go in any place like this. I can’t believe how stupid I was to play in the mud like a two-year-old.”

I glanced across the street. There on the corner stood a DX service station, the answer to Roger’s problem. “Let’s go across the street. I’ll get the restroom key from the attendant and give it to you so you won’t have to face….” I stopped and started over. “Anyway, I’ll let you go first.”

He thought it was a great idea. Especially since he didn’t have to explain how he ended up with mud all over him on a bright, cloudless day. We promise to wait by the van for the rest of the group after we cleaned up.

I stepped into the station’s glass-enclosed office, and asked, “Hey bub. Where’s the key to the john?”

The uniformed attendant, with the name Josh embroidered on his shirt, wiped the oil from his hands as the bell rang. A customer needed service. Hurrying out to greet the driver, he yelled over his shoulder at me, “Don’t need one. The door won’t lock. Just give it a good pull.”

I shrugged and casually headed around the building to where Roger waited. The restroom, located on the back of the station, was unimpressive. Scrawled numbers and a variety of vulgar pictures by local artists decorated the walls. Thankfully, it wasn’t completely filthy, but not where I’d want to spend the rest of my day either. As promised, I let Roger go first. He took his time, I had no doubt he would have to wash each garment in the sink before putting it back on.

For a while, I waited by the door. The back of the gas station had a gravel drive-around where the mechanic parked cars, either ready to be picked up or needing to be fixed. After stomping across the loose rock drive, checking out the parked cars, and throwing rocks into the thicket of woods standing seventy-five feet away, I walked back to the front of the station where the blacktop melded into the concrete drive leading up to the gas pumps. The attendant finished wiping the windshield for the customer and sent him off with a smile. I strolled over to him and casually ask, “Hey Josh.”

He grinned. I assumed he knew I read his name off his uniform.

“You lived here in Blue Eye very long?” I asked.

“Yep, all my life. Why? You need directions?”

I watched my shoe as I drew invisible circles on the concrete drive. “No. I’m kinda like a history buff, and this town looks old. Do you know what the oldest building here is?”

“That’s easy. It’s the old post office,” Josh replied. “You’re on what we call Main Street. It’s State Highway 13 but we don’t care, we call it what we want to. Go straight south till it intersects with State Line Road. It’s right there