I couldn’t sleep. Bright streaks of yellow sunlight were already streaming through the gaps between the shabby motel curtains, reminding me that the rest of the world would be waking soon. I hadn’t wanted to stop riding the night before – I’d initially intended to go straight through Utah without resting – but somewhere after my second stop for gas, when I’d nearly filled my motorcycle’s tank with diesel instead of unleaded, I ruefully conceded that the fatigue creeping through my bones was finally winning.
As I lay in my tattered clothes from the night before atop the starchy floral comforter and firm, unyielding mattress, I flicked open the lighter Aiden had given me and drew the blue-orange flame from the sparkwheel, idly twirling it through my fingers. For all I knew, it was my first time staying in a motel room, but I wasn’t exactly reveling in the new experience. I had awkwardly propped myself up on three overly-squishy pillows to help alleviate the persistent headache I had developed after clocking my head falling into a supernatural fissure in the arena. My shoulder was smarting from the burns of the massive fireball I’d accidentally dropped on myself doing the same, but I did my best to ignore it all. I’d gotten used to forcing injuries to the back of my mind during those last couple of weeks; something that would soon come in even handier, since I had many hours of riding still ahead of me, all with the strap of a heavy backpack cutting into the worst of my burns.
I glanced over at the forest-green nylon backpack I had haphazardly slung over a chair as I trudged into the mildew-scented room a short while earlier, right after checking three times to make sure the deadbolt was locked behind me. It had cost eight dollars at the nearby gas station, for sale next to a display of maps, five-dollar sunglasses, pastel-pink visors that were colorfully embroidered with the words “GRAND JUNCTION”, and a wide assortment of trinkets embossed with corny anthropomorphized illustrations of cheerful, waving Palisade Peaches. After filling my motorcycle with the non-diesel variety of gasoline, I’d bought the backpack, a cheap charging cord, a few bottles of water, some aspirin, and an armful of snacks, then went back outside and unceremoniously shoved everything inside the bag. The thick envelope of money I was able to retrieve before fleeing the place I had called home for the last three years was covertly hidden beneath a large package of white cheddar popcorn near the bottom of the backpack. My old, recently-unearthed driver’s license and passport, both bearing the name “Rose Smith”, were carefully stored in an inside pocket.
I’d kept the lighter Aiden had given me and a faded polaroid of my grandfather – sitting behind me on his old Honda, which years later I’d unknowingly inherit from Evelyn – as close to me as possible, securely zipped-up within an inside jacket pocket beside my breast. The only items I’d kept closer were the indigo-blue tanzanite pendant and a small brass key left to me by my parents. Those, I wore on a thin silver chain beneath my torn shirt, the cool metals comfortingly resting against my bare skin.
Still absentmindedly playing with the marble-sized drop of Fire rolling between my fingers, I thought about Aiden and Evelyn, wondering what they and Robert were doing at that exact moment. I knew they would be expecting a call from me, but I didn’t have it in me to talk to anyone just yet. In the last forty-eight hours, I had found out that Evelyn, my neighbor and my closest friend, was actually my late grandfather’s wife; I’d discovered a startling wealth of information about my family, previously hidden from me by the very organization that had claimed they wanted to protect me; I’d learned that one or both of my parents were probably dead, hunted down and most likely killed years ago by associates of my boyfriend(?)’s father; I watched helplessly as he – Aiden – was nearly killed by Savannah as she and her cronies attempted to force me into betraying my biggest secret: that I am the first Pentamancer to be born in hundreds of years – some sort of legendary wielder of the five elements.
I nearly rolled my eyes at the thought. Even then, after everything that happened, it all seemed unreal – absurd, even. Extinguishing the flame from my hand, I gently traced my fingers along the irritated black lines encasing the five-colored Pentamancer’s sigil on the inside of my left forearm, the tattoo I’d been forcibly branded with the night before. My eyes started to burn with angry tears, so I pushed the thoughts away – all of them. It was just too much to bear, alone, exhausted, and in a strange place. It reminded me too much of that bleak winter’s day three years ago…
Instead I focused on Aiden, the only somewhat-safe subject I could think of. Right before I left – he called me his girlfriend. The thought was both elating and terrifying. I had no idea how to be someone’s girlfriend, whether I had ever been someone’s girlfriend before. If only I could remember something – anything – from my previous life.
Surrendering to the fact that sleep would not be coming any time soon, I reached for the small black phone charging on the nightstand beside me and turned it on. I had four missed calls – three from Evelyn and one from Aiden – as well as a handful of text messages. I opened the first one, a long, typo-ridden message from Evelyn, who I assumed had written it from her phone.
Dear Rowan…Aspen…Im sorry I cant find the delete button on this thing. How are you sweetheartr? Are you safe and somewhere warm? I should have given you more money. Im very angry with myself for that.Are you eatingf enough? Please,make sure you take care of your shoulder! Robert says also to cover the tattoo on your arm to avoid unwanted attention. Im so angry I could just march right in there myself and give those goodday Asteroids… Asterisks… Asterians!… a piece of my mind. Im sorry for the obscenities sweetheart, Im just so angry and worried. Please call me soon. I love you very much. Love, Ev…Grandma Evelyn.
Despite feeling guilty for not calling, I couldn’t help but chuckle as I read her message. She always had a way of making me feel better, even unintentionally. I re-read her message, then opened the next one – it was from Aiden. I opened it, my heart fluttering.
(1/3) Aspen – I’m sure you’re doing fine, but would you let me / us know that you’re okay when you have the chance? I probably don’t need to tell you that Evelyn is a bit frantic by now. Please take care of yourself. A brief update: we drove for 3 hours (Robert drove at a staunch 10 miles below the speed limit) and then stopped at a hotel in Burlington, on the border of Colorado and Kansas. The room situation is… unique. Two double beds. (2/3) For the sake of appearing scrupulous, I believe, Robert is sharing my bed. He’s snoring beside me as we speak. Evelyn is fast asleep as well. They’re both quite jet-lagged from the trip back from Brussels. Before I forget, regarding your phone, I’d pre-paid for a month of unlimited texts and emails, but talk time is limited. Unless you can get to a mobile store to add more minutes, and I’m sure that’s not your top priority at the moment, I’ll try to stick to texts and emails and remind Evelyn to do the same. (3/3) Robert brought his laptop, which makes it easier for me to write you that way. Do you have an email account? If not, use my university email address to write me. The password is ‘Pyromaniac87’. I know – not very original. I miss you and am already regretting that we went our separate ways. If I have any say in the matter, we’ll be together very soon. I’ll write you a longer message once I have the opportunity. For now, I’ll try to sleep, despite the chainsaw to my right. Thinking of you… A.
Despite the smothering wave of exhaustion threatening to overcome me, his sign off made my heart thrum in my chest. I quickly hit ‘reply’, then started typing what was meant to be a prodigious and affectionate response, filled with my innermost thoughts and heart-wrenching confessions. Alas, after twenty-four hours without sleep, and the clinging vestiges of the painkillers Dr. Chen had given me obstinately lingering in my body, my amorous sonnet would have to wait. After composing just a few blurry sentences – which I would later be thankful had never made their way to Aiden – the phone slipped through my fingers as the lack of sleep finally caught up with me, and I fell into a deep, unyielding slumber.