Memorable Trip [FICTION]

“Why did you wait so long to have kids?” My best friend Edie asked as she wheeled her suitcase breathlessly toward a cab. “If you popped them out sooner, they would have headed off to college years ago like mine did.

“You know why,” I leveled a look on her that spoke volumes to my confidante of over four decades.

She giggled and winked. No words needed to be shared about my horrible taste in men.

“So how does Joanie feel knowing you dropped her off at school and hopped a plane to Turkey with me?”

“She’s thrilled. I think she was afraid I would join her at college.”

“Not when you can join your best friend for adventure.” She elbowed me and offered me another wink as a handsome young man stopped to gaze at me for an excessively long moment before offering to place our bags in his yellow taxi cab.

We nodded assent and he energetically began placing our bags in the trunk. Meanwhile, we prodded and tickled each other as we situated ourselves in the back seat. Edie gave the driver the name and address of our out of the way and surprisingly cheap accommodations for the week. He nodded knowingly, throwing one last appreciative look my way before pulling out into traffic. Edie and I nestled into our seats, observing architecture and people as they raced past our window.

As we left the city, the quality of the road surface diminished noticeably. Soon we bounced back and forth off of each other like balls in a taxi pinball machine. I caught the driver glancing back at us with amusement on more than one occasion though he looked less amused after I crossed my arms over my chest and offered him my best disapproving mother look.

As I began to wonder how many bruises would mar my skin tomorrow, he slowed and we passed another ruined brick building. At the end of the long drive, an intact brick building rose over the scraggly trees. While not in ruins, it definitely had lived through better times. 

“You are sure you want to stay here?” Our driver asked as he slowed down in front of the door.

“Of course we are,” Edie’s expression changed and I elbowed her before she could say whatever inappropriate comment brewed within her mind.

“Yes, thank you.” I reached for the door and stepped out onto the worn pavers leading up to the ornate door.

Our cabbie grabbed our bags and followed behind as Edie and I slowly approached the door. Our eyes scanned the facade, taking in every detail with wonder and curiosity. The worn stones still appeared sturdy—strong enough to keep the building standing for our brief stay anyway. As we reached the front desk, out cabbie dropped the bags and gave me a disappointed look. He held his hand out expectantly. Edie tipped him as we both voiced our gratitude.

“Enjoy your stay, ladies,” he tipped his head to me one last time before returning to his car.

Edie snickered at me as an elderly gentleman approached from the other side of the desk. His shoulders slouched and his feet dragged slowly across the ground, but bright eyes gazed out from his wrinkled face.

“May I help you.” His heavily accented words flowed out like slow music.

“We have a reservation. It is under Edie Worth.”

He nodded his head and reached under the desk for a leather-bound register. After checking something at the front of the book, he opened to a page in the back with signatures filling half of the wide lines. 

“Please sign here,” he waved his hand over the page for emphasis.

We quickly complied and a younger version of the old man shuffled toward us to lift our bags. We gratefully follow him up a flight of stairs and down a long hall to our room. We stepped inside and half-listened to his explanations about the bathroom’s location and places to eat nearby. The sumptuousness of our surroundings attracted most of our attention, so we nodded politely as the man bowed out of the room, pulling the door closed.

Rich tapestries and curtains covered most of the wall. The rich colors and soft fabrics made me want to practice my meager belly dancing skills. Unfettered by inhibitions, Edie let her hips do the talking and I joined in. We danced around the room, mirroring each other’s movements until jet lag caused our collapse on the bed. As we stared breathlessly at the ceiling, sleep descended.

When we woke a couple of hours later, I felt slightly refreshed and ravenously hungry. We decided to try one of the places suggested by our solemn guide.

After we plied ourselves with lightly spiced kofte, mint, and yogurt, we retired to our room again. In the soft glow of the overhead lights, my eyes noted something I missed before. In a shadowy corner, a weathered chest stood alone.

“I think the last guest forgot a bag.”

“It’s a big one, too. Makes me wonder how clean the room actually is.”

We both peered around the room suspiciously and shuddered. Drawn forward by curiosity, I gently lifted the lid. Edie didn’t counsel me to stop. In fact, such silence descended that I knew she held her breath as I did. As the lid reached its zenith,  dust puffed around us and music from instruments I couldn’t name filled the air. Nestled in the trunk, weapons of a bygone war lay neatly arranged. A couple of turbans nestled beside a dagger with a decorative handle. Edie reached out to pick it up, but I knocked her hand away. The music around us intensified. We exchanged looks.

“Where do you think that music is coming from?” She asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe we woke something up.”

Her eyes widened and she reached out to abruptly put the lid down again. More dust puffed up toward us. The music faded away as we exchanged looks.

“I might want to switch rooms.” Edie whispered.

“Or hotels,” I whispered back.

We stared at each other in fearful silence then her fear unclenched enough for Edie to offer a smirk and suggest, “”We can have your admirer come rescue us.”

“Don’t make me change my mind about taking that dagger out of the chest.”

She laughed wholeheartedly now, “You love me too much.”

~~~

Another mystery like how my own “Edie” has been friends with me for about four decades. Must be all that stubbornness bred into the members of our shared family tree.  I hope my godson, her son, has the happiest birthday tomorrow and then celebrates his beautiful mama’s birthday tomorrow.