Trust by Parker Sinclair

Author:Parker Sinclair [Sinclair, Parker]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rawlings Books, LLC via Indie Author Project

It’s warm in here, and damn does it smell good. Sitting by the picture window staring out at the desert, a roadrunner zooms across my line of sight along the red landscape. More like a road chicken if you ask me. The thing looks like it runs every second of the day for fear of its own shadow. Nothing like the cocky Warner Brothers version, I bet these guys get picked out of coyotes teeth on a daily basis. I rap on the window to get his attention. Huh? On second thought, wow, he is fast. Guess I underestimated the little desert chicken.

The Pozo Redondo Mountains in the distance must have some excellent hiking. Did I even bring my hiking shoes? How do I know the name of these mountains? Where am I, and what is that wonderful smell? The light sounds of shuffling, bowls being moved, and spoons tapping complement the reggae music drifting from the stereo.

“Okay, dear. I need you now.” I am vaguely aware of my body uncurling from the window seat, moving toward the voice, and stopping next to a shorter woman whose white hair is pulled back in a loose braid. Wild flowers are placed haphazardly amongst her hair like a vine growing throughout the thick white locks.

“Sure, Dana. What’s next?” My mind is momentarily in shock, but we continue mixing, sifting, pouring, folding, and chattering about all things, normal things. It seems like hours tick by; the sun starts to set before we sit down and enjoy a batch of various baked goods stuffed with meat, cheese, fruit, and chocolate. I feel her touch lightly upon my hand, like a feather that drifted in on the breeze. When I look up, her eyes seem to bore into mine.

“What are you doing here, young Alex? Not here, not in my home, but in my dream, dear?” Her voice is so sweet and soothing, it reminds me of my grandmother’s and I choke back the sobs threatening to break free. I try to hold myself steady as my heart breaks with sadness and longing.

“I, I don’t know,” I stammer, feeling a sudden dread that a nightmare is going to take hold at any moment. Very few of my dreams these days don’t end in that manner, so who can blame me?

“No need for alarm, my dear, all are safe here.” Her hand still lies atop mine, and I feel a slight chill when she moves it to gesture around her room. I take in the multitude of crystals, candles, and dream catchers decorating every window, wall, and doorway; I’m astounded by the beauty and variety of shapes, animals, feathers, and plants.

“The Arizona desert protects me as well; we have an understanding, she and I.” She gives me a wink that makes her seem younger, more like a child than someone around my grandmother’s age. Her eyes twinkle, and she lays her weathered yet soft hand back upon my arm.

“I knew you would come someday. Your grandmother

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