Chapter 6

When things are getting you down, I guess food is always a good way to keep yourself distracted.

Especially when the food was just this good. Luna took another bite before she had even swallowed the previous mouthful, closing her eyes and sighing in bliss.

She knew, on an entirely rational level, that with each bite she was just burning her tongue more and more, and that she should wait even just ten seconds so that she wasn’t actively causing herself harm.

But she had always been a sucker for barbecue pork bao, and this was by far and away the best one she’d ever tasted, the hot, rich pork perfectly balanced by the light, fluffy bun, which was just sweet enough to be tasty rather than overpowering.

Before she knew it, she was down to the last mouthful. She forced herself to pause for a moment so she could savor it, chewing slowly, as she knew it would be the last one she could have… today, at least. It was the eternal curse of the travel writer: to be surrounded by food, and to know that you had to sample all of it, no matter how amazing or horrendous.

Everything here, of course, fell firmly into the ‘amazing’ category. She’d already stuffed herself full of more food and drink than she could remember, her notebook and camera keeping track for her, and now she was wandering about in a kind of waking food coma.

With one last wistful glance at the bao stand – it would be so easy to join the back of the line again and get another one! – she moved on down the line of stalls, idly crunching on the crispest, freshest green bean she’d ever eaten. She’d bought the Nicoise salad as a kind of salve to her conscience, telling herself she needed to eat some kind of vegetable that hadn’t been deep fried, but even the salad was so damn tasty that there was no way it could possibly be good for her.

She was sure that at some point she would start to miss her old assignments, horrible as they often were – after all, experiencing new things was part of the appeal of being a travel writer to begin with. But for the time being, she was more than happy to eat the best food she had ever eaten in her life, hands down. It was like all the world’s deliciousness had decided to congregate in one tiny mountain town. Even the water tasted better here!

The stalls spread out before her in a seemingly endless array, and the question came to her: What next?

The answer was obvious.

Dessert.

Honestly, she was so full that she was at risk of exploding, but, well, dessert was dessert, and also, she had a job to do. Her article would simply not be accurate without a full and complete report. What choice did she have, really?

One concept she had picked up in her travels was the Japanese idea of betsubara, or a second stomach for desserts when your regular stomach was full. In the spirit of cultural awareness, she was more than happy to cultivate her own betsubara in order to make room for some of the simply stunning treats on offer.

Even so, it was going to be difficult to choose. Just from where she was standing she could see everything from traditional Americana, such as key lime pie and apple fritters, to international fare such as alfajores, Indian sweets, and Peruvian rice pudding.

I’m going to die. I am literally going to die. I can’t leave here without trying everything.

She supposed that she was going to be here all week, so she didn’t have to cram literally every single thing here into her mouth today. Still, what happened if one of them sold out all their stock before the end of the week? She’d never forgive herself. No, she had to try as much food as possible, even if it meant rolling home to the BB later. At least it was mostly downhill!

Despite her feelings of contentedness from all the delicious food she’d eaten, Luna still couldn’t stop herself from grimacing a little when she reached into her bag and her hand brushed that T-shirt. She was fully aware that she was eating her feelings, but that didn’t mean that she had to dwell on it.

Luna moved on to the Indian sweets stall with its insanely long line.

“What do you think, Fillmore?” she asked as she waited. “Should I get the gulab jamun, or the burfi?”

Fillmore yipped, his little tail whizzing back and forth fast enough to send him into orbit.

“You’re no help,” she muttered.

Fillmore yipped again, and Luna narrowed her eyes at him.

“Now you’re just doing it on purpose. Then again, I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to have a helpful opinion on foods that I won’t let you eat.”

The burfi would be about a hundred times easier to eat while juggling a dog, a bag, and a camera… but she did love gulab jamun.

What she really needed was a tasting plate the size of a car with a tiny piece of everything on offer!

In the end, the gulab jamun won out. There was just something too alluring about the perfect little golden doughy balls swimming in their pool of sweet rose water syrup, with its hints of cardamom and saffron, that she couldn’t resist. Sure, she would probably end up a sticky mess, but that was a price she was willing to pay.

She held back a sigh as the line inched forward at an agonizingly slow pace. She’d seen glaciers that moved faster!

Just chill. The more people there are lining up for this food, the better it must be. I can’t imagine all these people would be standing here if it wasn’t worth the wait!

In the meantime, she supposed that she could enjoy the fresh, crisp mountain air and soak up the atmosphere. It really was lovely – just enough people to make it interesting, but not enough to be crowded. There was no jostling or yelling, and several passersby took the time to smile at Fillmore, even if he was having none of it and turned his head away in disdain.

A few lifetimes later, she finally crawled her way toward the front of the line.

Almost there. Just one more person to go –

“My goodness! Are you really sure you can eat all of that?”

Luna’s jaw slowly dropped open as the person in front of her – no, the personification of greed incarnate – scooped up the last ten containers of gulab jamun off the table, balancing them precariously in his arms.

“I really wasn’t expecting to buy all of this,” the man said – and indeed, he almost sounded a little surprised. “But suddenly I just felt like I had to have it! I mean, it looks so good.”

Itdoes look good! That’s why I wanted it! But just one container, because I’m not a terrible excuse for a human being!

Luna could practically feel steam coming out of her ears. Sure, he wasn’t technically doing anything wrong, but it wasn’t really within the community spirit of the festival! She could’ve spent the past twenty minutes sampling the other delights on offer!

She took a slow breath, and let it out. It really wasn’t all that important. She’d just make sure to come in early tomorrow to grab some before it sold out. And it wasn’t like she needed anything to eat right now. If anything, this guy was probably doing her a favor and keeping her stomach from exploding in front of everyone, which would really be embarrassing.

For now, she would just try the burfi, which she had been sorely tempted to buy in the first place, anyway –

“And I’ll just take those as well, thanks.”

The stallholder blinked. “Which ones, sir?”

The man blinked back, still looking a little dazed. “All of them?”

Luna watched on in mute rage as the astonished woman slid the burfi – all of the remaining burfi – into paper bags and piled the whole lot on top of his precarious armload of gulab jamun.

“Uh, keep the change,” the guy muttered as he one-handedly fished out a handful of bills from his wallet and tossed them awkwardly onto the table, nearly dropping his precious cargo in the process. He staggered off into the distance, a dazed expression on his face.

Luna realized that her mouth had been hanging open for the entire duration of this travesty, and it was only with great difficulty that she was able to force it closed now.

My burfi! My gulab jamun! My impending indigestion!

“I am so sorry,” the stallholder said, and Luna tried to wave the apology off. “Tomorrow I’ll institute a limit on the number of sales per person. I just never expected one person to buy so many!”

“Well, I can see why they did,” Luna said, smiling. Even though the treats were no longer there, she could still smell the lingering sweetness in the air. “I can’t wait to try them tomorrow.”

“Please do,” the stallholder said, still looking sheepish. “I’m sorry about the wait – I’ll make sure you get a free sample tomorrow!”

Luna assured her it wouldn’t be necessary – it hadn’t been her fault, after all – and wandered off into the crowd, silencing the voice inside her that told her she probably could have avoided all this if she’d just cut to the front of the line by flashing her journalistic credentials, such as they were. She didn’t want to become the kind of person who just took things for granted… and anyway, could you really write an honest review of a place if you weren’t experiencing it in an honest fashion? What was the point of going to a festival if you didn’t have to deal with the anticipation that came from waiting endlessly in line, not to mention the sore feet that inevitably accompanied it?

A buzzing from her pocket shook her free of her ruminations, and Luna pulled out her phone to see the all-too-familiar allcaps ramblings.

HA HA! DO YOU NOW SEE HOW MIGHTY I AM? ALL THAT YOU DESIRE SHALL BE DENIED YOU!!

That seemed… oddly specific, while still being incredibly vague at the same time. What on earth could they be referring to?

The only thing she had been denied recently was… gulab jamun??

Was all of this just an elaborate set-up to get her wanting delicious desserts, then buying them all out from under her nose? It seemed ridiculous, but then again, everything about this situation had been ridiculous from the beginning.

Baffled, she looked around, trying to see if she could find the man who had bought out the last of the desserts. After a minute she spotted him, trying to pick up a container that he had obviously dropped while desperately trying to keep from sending the rest of them tumbling to the ground, a look of confusion on his face. He certainly didn’t seem like someone who had just had the opportunity to send a self-aggrandizing text message.

It was very hard to know what to make of all this. Should she be worried? Amused? Was she currently being pranked by some kind of YouTube influencer who thought that sending weirdly threatening text messages was the height of comedy?

She made a decision: once she was done for the day and safely back at the BB, she would text her editor about it. They could have a laugh, and her editor would reassure her that it was probably nothing, but also that he would take steps to look into it and make sure that there was nothing sinister going on.

There. That was a sensible, well-balanced approach. She was sure it was nothing, but better to be safe than sorry. If nothing else, she had Fillmore’s wellbeing to look out for!

Speaking of…

“Hey, buddy,” she murmured, picking him up and holding him like a baby so that she could look into his mismatched little eyes and rub his belly. She knew that a lot of animals didn’t like being held like that, but Fillmore apparently couldn’t get enough. “Since all that I desire has been denied me, where should we go from here?”

Fillmore panted and wriggled, and so she let him down, following him wherever he wanted to go until he came to a stop and looked back at her expectantly.

“Key lime pie? Good choice.”

It was a good choice. Something sweet and citrusy sounded perfect right about now. And the line was relatively short and moving at a rapid pace, the stallholders working with brisk assembly line efficiency as they each performed their individual tasks of taking money, cutting and plating the pie, and finally passing each slice to the customers.

She joined the line, doing a bit of idle people watching as she waited. Most of the people here seemed like typical residents or tourists, but there were definitely a few people who seemed a bit more on the… eccentric side, in the way that mountain towns just seemed to invite.

Not that she had a problem with that – the opposite, in fact. She considered herself a bit boring and run of the mill, but she had always loved traveling so that she could see how other people lived.

The idea of a small town hiding a secret was something she had always found interesting and exciting. Not anything dark like something out of a David Lynch series, but just something a bit unusual. She certainly couldn’t see somewhere like Girdwood Springs having any actual skeletons in its closet!

She took the opportunity to snap a few photos while she waited, the deep green of the abundant plant life, bright colors of the bunting, and stark white of the distant mountain peaks seeming even more brilliant against the vivid blue of the sky.

The bunting fluttered in the breeze, a little more noticeably now than before, and she watched the swaying of the frangipani flowers that decorated the stall selling pina coladas. A shiver ran through her – even though it was sunny, it was still early spring in the mountains, and the wind carried a touch of ice.

A sudden gust, much stronger, almost knocked her off her feet, and she staggered for a moment, barely managing to heed the shouted “Look out!” in time to throw herself to the ground and shelter Fillmore with her body before an enormous umbrella flew over her head, crashing to the ground right where she had just been standing.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she pulled Fillmore even closer to her chest, whispering frantically to him that it was okay, he was okay. He was panting a little, eyes even wider than usual, but he seemed unhurt.

“Oh my God! Are you all right?”

Several people crowded around her, and she forced a smile, pulling herself to her feet and half-heartedly dusting herself off with one hand while clutching Fillmore close with the other. Luckily she had managed to avoid doing herself any actual injury – the skin on her hands was a bit red and sore, but unbroken.

“I’m okay, thanks,” she said, her voice only shaking a little. “Nothing damaged except my pride.” And her jeans, and possibly also her camera, although hopefully it was just cosmetic. Not that she really cared – it was insured, and it wasn’t that important in the grand scheme of things – but she really wanted to make sure that she had some good photos for her article. Not that she cared about it quite so much in this moment as she had before.

A thought passed through her head fleetingly – about how safe she would have felt if Henry had been there, and how it almost had felt like he had been there somehow, shielding her and making sure she got down quickly – before she squashed it down under her metaphorical heel.

Don’t even think about these things. Nothing good will come from thinking about him. He’s clearly not interested.

She forced thoughts of him and his smile from her mind and instead checked herself over one more time, making sure that she was otherwise intact.

I would definitely be covered in syrup right now if I’d managed to get the gulab jamun. Maybe I should consider myself lucky.

Actually… no. Definitely unlucky. Today kind of sucks a little. What a shame – this really did seem like a dream assignment.

Not that it was awful by any stretch of the imagination – she had had far worse. Like being stuck in a foreign country after her passport was stolen, or getting the world’s worst case of Bali belly.

She watched detachedly as the giant umbrella led the strapping young men from the hot dog stand on a merry chase down the road, teasing them, letting them almost catch it before it bounced back out of their grasp. Eventually they managed to subdue it, hurling themselves down onto it, before hauling it back to the deeply apologetic owners of the pina colada stand.

Luna assured them again that it was okay, that it was just a freak gust of wind and these things happened, and turned down the offer of a free drink. She had to drive back to the BB later, via winding mountain roads, after all – and to be honest, she was starting to feel a bit festivaled out for the day.

Obviously it was her job, but her editor would understand if she needed to have a bit of time out after almost getting assassinated by an airborne umbrella. And besides which, it seemed like things were starting to wind down a little for the day. It made more sense to head back to the BB, check her camera over to see if it was still working, and go over her notes for the day so she could start working out how she was going to approach writing this article.

It took her a moment to realize that her phone was buzzing again, and it was with a sense of growing trepidation that she reached into her pocket.

Luna was really starting to hate this phone. If only it had gotten crushed when she fell.

DO YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU IGNORE ME? DO YOU THINK I JEST?!? YOU WILL FEEL THE FULL FORCE OF MY WRATH, AND TREMBLE IN YOUR DESPAIR!!!!

She looked around wildly, but… nothing. No nefarious figure hunched over his phone, no villainous cackling. Just people enjoying themselves, plus a few good Samaritans watching her with slightly worried looks on their faces. Maybe they thought she’d hit her head when she fell.

She gave them a wave and her best reassuring smile, and started to head back to where she’d parked her car, tucking Fillmore inside the front of her jacket and zipping it up until he was just a little doggy head peeking out the top. His warmth and the movement of his ribs with his breathing were soothing, although she also felt a fierce protectiveness welling up inside her. She’d been able to wave the text messages off as something silly, but now Fillmore had been placed in danger, and suddenly things felt a lot more serious.

Not that she was sure how, exactly, he had been placed in danger. It wasn’t like people could control the wind, and even if they could, why would they use it to hurl oversized umbrellas at her?

It made no sense.

Ugh, maybe I’m going crazy.

Maybe she had hit the ultimate food coma, and now she was hallucinating.

… Or maybe she just really, really needed to use the bathroom.

She’d been ignoring it all afternoon, wanting to avoid using the portapotties if at all possible, but now…

Probably that hibiscus iced tea is coming back to bite me. Oh, and the hot cranberry cider.

… Yeah, that wasn’t my smartest move.

There was really nothing for it. She was going to have to brave the portapotties.

How quickly she’d gotten spoiled! This was nothing, compared to some of her other assignments. But she just really, really hated portapotties.

She hurried down to where she remembered having seen them earlier, preparing to hold her nose, go in, and come back out as quickly as possible, and then never think about it ever again.

Spotting them in the distance, she doubled her pace, hurrying her way through the crowd while trying not to jostle anyone too much.

Oh God, I’ve never been so glad to see one of these ghastly things in all my life.

She reached out a grateful hand for the door handle –

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

A hand slapped a sign on the door – OUT OF ORDER – and Luna’s heart sank into her shoes.

No. NO.

She looked up to the next portapotty – and the next – and they all bore the same terrible signage. The harbinger of her own personal, horrible doom.

OUT OF ORDER. OUT OF ORDER. OUT OF ORDER.

“Something’s wrong with the chemicals in there,” the man went on, oblivious to the way that her soul was shriveling up and dying inside her. “We’ve got to close them all for public safety until someone can come up and work out what’s wrong with them.”

The man went on, but Luna wasn’t taking any of it in.

Her phone buzzed. Slowly she pulled it out of her pocket and raised it with trembling fingers in front of her face.

THERE TRULY IS NOWHERE YOU CAN HIDE FROM MY VENGEANCE! YOU SURELY NOW REGRET TOYING WITH MY HEART! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

A line of emojis followed, but Luna barely paid any attention.

“You have got to be kidding me!” she burst out. “Oh my God!! Who does that?!”

Had she truly acquired a stalker? The most ridiculous and sadistic of all stalkers?

There was nothing for it – she was just going to have to make a mad dash back to the BB.

And I thought this assignment was going to be fun. I’d rather be back eating the fermented shark!

A hand suddenly alighted on her shoulder, gentle but firm, and she almost jumped out of her skin.

“You look like you could use a kind stranger, darlin’,” said a woman’s voice, and she looked up into the eyes of an older woman, her face lined from a lifetime of smiles.

“Oh, who, me? No, I’m fine,” Luna babbled. She didn’t want to get caught up in a conversation right now – she just needed to get out of here!

“So you don’t need to make use of my facilities, then?” said the woman, jerking her thumb at the building behind her. The sign read Eula’s Diner, and it rang a bell in the part of Luna’s brain that wasn’t taken up with finding the quickest route back to the BB.

But then her brain caught up with what the woman was saying, and –

“You mean it?” she said hopefully. Normally she would make with the usual social niceties and turn down the offer in the first instance, but she was done with that kind of thing.

“Of course I mean it,” said the woman – Eula, presumably – and she steered Luna toward the diner, unlocking the door and letting her in. “Down the end there, on the left.”

Luna practically yelled her thanks and made a beeline for the bathroom. Quickly, she unzipped her jacket, putting Fillmore down on the floor. He blinked up at her with his big, bulging eyes. “Now, you stay there, like a good boy,” she told him as she shoved the bathroom door open.

When she emerged, she felt mostly sane again. The last half an hour had been very strange, to say the least, and she was starting to feel like she was going just a bit crazy.

I mean, some person isn’t using cosmic forces to break all the portapotties in the area just to spite you. Right?

“Thank you,” she said to Eula with great seriousness. “I really mean it. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Think nothing of it,” said Eula with a wave of her hand. “We ladies have to look out for each other, don’t we?”

“That we do,” Luna said with a smile. “But seriously, I mean it. You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.”

A thought occurred to her, now that her head was clearer. “I think I met your grandsons earlier? Big guys, served up some amazing fried green tomatoes. Last I saw, they were vanquishing an unruly umbrella.”

Eula laughed heartily. “Yeah, that sounds like my boys. You liked the tomatoes?”

“They were phenomenal,” said Luna truthfully. “I’m going to have to make sure to have them again later in the week. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” said Eula with a twinkle in her eye. “When you do what you love for a living, it’s always nice to know that other people love what you do, too.”

“Very true,” said Luna with a smile. While she wasn’t feeling particularly well disposed toward her job right at this second, she did love it – mostly – and it was a good feeling to know that what she wrote brought other people enjoyment as well.

Luna said her farewells and headed back to her car, Fillmore tucked safely under her arm. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing furtively about, just in case there was any sign of the source of the mystery texts… but, no.

I’m being very silly,she told herself firmly as she pulled the car door open. Very, very silly. It’s just some dumb coincidence. I think.

Luna slid into the driver’s seat with a relieved sigh, popping Fillmore down on the passenger’s side.

Well, today hadn’t gone quite like she’d hoped, she reflected as she drove, but she still had more than enough to get started with. She’d sampled enough delicious food and drink that she could definitely start planning her article at least, and she hoped she had some photos that she could send over to her editor, along with the outline for her article.

As she pulled into her parking space at the BB, however, a sudden, enormous yawn forced its way up from what felt like the depths of her soul.

“Guess I must be pretty tired,” she murmured to Fillmore as she leaned over to pick him up from his seat.

Perhaps that wasn’t such a surprise. Looking back, a lot had happened today. Meeting Henry – as hot as he is elusive, she thought dreamily as she got out of the car and started carrying Fillmore up the drive to the house – seemed like it had happened days ago, not just a few hours.

She did her best to push down the churn of disappointment in her stomach that she hadn’t seen him anywhere at the festival.

What would I have said to him, anyway?she thought despondently as she made her way up the porch steps. Hey, I know you ran away from me, but I’m here! Stalking you! And I have your shirt! Better chase me if you want it back!

Mortification over a scenario that hadn’t even actually happened crept its way up her throat. No, even the mere idea of that was enough to have her flushing hot and cold in horrified embarrassment. Maybe it had been a good thing she hadn’t seen Henry after all.

Luna staggered into the house, exhaustion overtaking her as she fumbled with the keys. Just a few more steps, and then she would be back in her room and she could crash for a few hours. Just long enough to get her head on straight so that she could contact her editor about the text messages and get some work done.

She jiggled the key in the lock, turning it the wrong way first in her sleepiness, before eventually getting the door open. She entered the room…

… And stared, as a very handsome, very buff, very naked Henry Grant, halfway through the act of putting on his underpants, stared back at her with wide eyes.