Paradise Lots 4 Bridget

And Cattywampus

Bridget’s Cabin and Cattywampus

The road, more accurately a trail, to Bridget’s cabin went far into the woods. Marie-Ann’s 4-wheel drive Jeep managed all right, bouncing them over rocks and ruts.

They made enough noise coming up the road that by the time they arrived, Bridget had tea brewing and a plate of cookies set out on the porch.

Nestled in a clearing deep in the woods, Bridget’s cabin was modest, frame-built, wood siding, tin roof. She had a red brick chimney on one end where her ‘59 Chevy Impala was parked.

Her yard was swept clean, just hard-pack dirt, but it was surrounded by gardens: herbs, vegetables and flowers. Various arcane symbols hung from the edge of the porch made of clay, wire, or glass.

Bridget was long and lean, her hair beginning to gray at the roots while contrasting with richer brown. She was about 45, dressed in a Grateful Dead t-shirt and jeans over Doc Martens.

“What can I do for y’all?” she called out as Marie-Ann parked the Jeep.

Neither woman answered as they made their way to the cabin.

Bridget looked them both over, listening to whatever inner sense she had. “I reckon we’d better sit a spell and talk, then.”

She poured a mug of green tea for Lurleen and put a dollop of honey in it. “You are going to need more than meds to fix yourself up. Drink up, and I’ll make more.”

“Thank you,” Marie-Ann said. “We’ve come about Lurleen’s ex— a shape-shifting coyote.”

Bridget poured tea for herself and Marie-Ann, then she took a deck of Tarot cards from her pocket. “Let’s see what’s going on here.”

As she laid out the cards, most of them were reversed, none of them boding well.

“It looks like you left just in the nick of time,” Bridget said. “Have you filed for divorce yet?’

Lurleen shook her head. “No, I just took what I could grab and walked away.”

“Did you bring anything of his, a lock of hair, a dirty t-shirt, anything?”

“No.”

“I can maybe put a bit of glamour on you, to make you harder to find, but I can’t ward you against him.”

She took another sip of her tea and gave Marie-Ann a significant look. “A general ward would keep out some of your customers. Not a good solution.”

“What do you suggest?” Marie-Ann asked. She ate a cookie and drank more of her tea, just like they were having a social.

Lurleen slumped in her chair. She felt like a stray dog picked up by the side of the road. She’d been fed, allowed to sleep, and taken to the “vet,” but it wasn’t up to her what happened next. But she’d asked for that, just that.

“How about you stay with me for a week or two,” Bridget said. “I could use some help around the place, and as you get to feeling better, you can make some decisions.”

Marie-Ann said nothing. Lurleen didn’t blame her for not wanting another problem laid on her doorstep.

“Okay,” Lurleen said. “Thank you.” She glanced up, expecting to see two faces of pity, but neither of them looked at her. They seemed to share some communication Lurleen couldn’t decipher.

Bridget poured each of them another cuppa. “I’ll come down and get your clothes this afternoon. In the meantime, get yourself grounded. You know how to do that?”

Lurleen nodded. She drank the rest of her tea, and as she swallowed, she imagined all her energy swirling around her and down into the floorboards of the porch and then down into the red dirt below the cabin. She straightened her spine as if the weight of her stupid actions were flushed into the dirt.

There might be life after Dean. Not only with the undead.

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