Stone

“Oh come on, don’t do this to me now…” The car sputtered before coming to a complete stop. I lay my head on the steering wheel out of frustration. I’ve never had a knack for cars — I’m more of an office cuticle kind of guy.

“Knock, knock.” I look to my left — a man in a wife beater squinting from the bright sun reflecting off the car. I open the car door slightly, waiting for him to clear from the door, then fully open it.

“Yea?” I ask, my hand just above my eyebrows, blocking the sun.

“Car troubles?” he asks with a deep southern accent.

“Yea. Having a bit of a bad day,” I reply, stepping out of the car.

“Well I can fix it up for you, I won’t charge much of a buck,” he replies, cracking a bit of a smile.

“Oh that would be amazing.” A full smile playing on my reddened face.

“Well alrighty, I can get my truck and haul it on to my shop.” He starts walking over to his truck.

I begin gathering some things out of the middle console and back seat. He pulls over right beside me, rolling his window down.

“It might take a bit, do you live around here?” he asks.

“No, I’m headed to Teeneese,” I reply, slipping my phone in my pocket.

“Well, you might want to get a room for the night…” He looks around the street for oncoming cars. “If you want I can drop you off at a motel,” he adds, throwing bottles from the passenger seat to the back.

“Sounds good.” I hop in the truck, closing the door as he pulls off.

Along the way to the motel I get to see the small town. The buildings full of archetecture. The court house taking away my breath, 2 gargoyles perched on each side of the building, their stone wings stretching out over the clear sky. It looks so out of place with the tiny dinky buildings that surround it.

We pull up to a small motel with a glowing sign that reads “Blue Rose Inn,” some of the bulbs blown.

“This is the cheapest motel in town… also the only one in town.” He looks over at me with a smile before quickly looking straight at the parking space in front of us. He sticks the truck in park.

“Well here you go,” he looks back at me.

“Thank you, really, you’ve helped a lot,” I reply.

“Ahh don’t mention it, I’ll swing back by here when your car is done.” He fixes his hat, placing it perfectly back on his head.

“Sounds good!” I exclaim, before hopping out of the truck, closing the door with a heavy push. Giving him a small wave before he drives off.

I look around the half-empty lot, walking towards the small rundown office, the blinds in the window crooked, the open sign flashing green. I walk into the office, a bell ringing above my head. The owner sitting at the counter in front of a computer, clicking the keys quickly.

“How can I help you?” he asks, not looking away from the screen.

“Uhh I’d like to get a room for the night,” I reply, walking up and placing my card on the counter.

He stops typing, grabbing a key off a hook on the wall behind him. He swipes my card and hands it back to me. I put it back into my wallet then slide it into my pocket.

“Room 109.” He hands me the key and goes back to typing.

“Thank you,” I say, walking out of the office, the bell ringing again as I exit.

I walk through the lot up to the old metal stairs, the first step creaking under me. I analyze the numbers on the door until I get to 109. Inserting the key into the lock, a soft “click” as I turn it and open the door.

The smell of old linen immediately hitting me. It’s not a bad smell, more like a familer one. I travel a lot so it’s nothing new. A fresh made bed waits for me. I throw my backpack onto the floral duvet before sitting down on the foot of the bed. Letting a deep breath out while turning on the TV. Settling in early, turning on some old channel — just something for noise. Untying and taking my shoes off and laying back on the bed. All the driving today made me a little tired, my eyes feeling heavy. I curl up on the king sized bed before falling asleep rather quickly.

I wake up, the room dark besides the dim glow from the TV. I sit up, picking my backpack up from the floor. I look at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to the bed. “2:43” displayed. I turn on the lamp, the glass base filled with seashells, my eyes adjusting to the light. I can feel the emptiness in my stomach as it growls. I decide to get something to eat, which nothing is open as of now. I take my phone out of my pocket, looking for places that might be open where I can at least get a snack. A 24-hour gas station “Sunnyside,” just 2 blocks away, walking distance.

I put my shoes back on and walk over to the door, the nice outside air hitting the sweat on my forehead. I make my way down the long veranda, the lights next to each motel room door leading to the shabby stairs. Carefully walking down them, still drowsy. I walk the sidewalks leading away from the weather-beaten inn.

The next block over is the edifice somber court house. The architecture is beautiful, absolutely stunning, the stone walls streaked with centuries of rain. I stop. There’s 1 gargoyle perched on the left side of the court house. I could’ve sworn there was another on the other side when we passed by it earlier. I continue walking slowly, still confused.

Above me I hear a low, gravelly, craggy growl. I look up and there it is — sat on a different building, its cracked and graven wings starting to flap, shuddering, the stone grinding together. The beast diving down at me.

I run towards the row of small buildings. The gargoyle looping, hovering above me like a vulture finding roadkill. Raspy growls following me. I run to the nearest open place, my hands grasping the cold steel door handle before I’m grabbed, the stone claws digging into my side, carrying me above the court house. The pressure from the grip on my sides restricting my air. As it carries me higher and higher, I feel the talons start to slowly lose grasp. The grip loosing.

And suddenly dropping me.

I plummet to the ground like I’m chasing the road. I feel weightless and helpless, the whisteling from the wind getting louder, as I hurtle to the ground with a thud…