Authors Note: I think you'll get it from the prose, but this story begins on Sunday morning around 10:30AM. Then immediately goes back to fill in events from the previous week. I really enjoyed writing this.

Chapter 6 “The Crash”
Ashton

Ashton looked out the passenger window of Marie’s 80s Volvo wagon because she couldn’t look at Marie.

“I’m sorry, Ashton, I’m not trying to push you into anything, it’s not like that. I just want you to see that you’re not alone,” Marie said.

Ashton kept her eyes out the window. “Maybe I like being alone, maybe I liked not having someone know everything about me.” The words came out harsh and defensive.

“Okay, I get it. I promise you, I wasn’t trying to, like, spy on you. It’s just you were so—What in the world?” Marie hit the brake hard, and Ashton looked forward. They were rounding a corner on the highway. Turned over off the road was a white bus laying on its side. It had scared the earth where it had slid. There were small trees twisted and broken where the bus had plowed through them. A truck was on the shoulder across the highway. A large man was waving for them to stop.

Ashton was close enough now to read the back door of the bus. “Harvest Chapel?” he said.

Marie parked. The emergency room on the side of the bus swung open and arms pushed back until it fell over against the side of the bus. A man started climbing out, his arms and face covered with blood.

***

Three days earlier, Ashton was sitting in McDonalds with a Big Mac meal and still smelling rosemary and petechial from Marie’s house. Garrett walked in and swung one of the mismatched chairs around backwards to straddle. “Sup Dawg?” he said.

“Dude, could you please realize you’re not a rapper,” Ashton replied and took a sip from her coke.

“I’ll be right back, man,” Garrett said. Ashton nodded. Sh e’d never felt annoyance when his friends called her, dawg, dude, man, bro. Why was it bothering her now? It’s not a big deal.

A few minutes later Garrett slid into the seat with an extra value meal and smiled, “What have you been up to all week, man. How’d your date with Marie go? I called, but you never answered?”

Ashton looked aside, and she took a moment to respond. It hadn’t really been a date, had it? It was close enough for her. “It was fine, I went to her house on Tuesday.”

Garrett’s eyes bugged out, “Dude, she invited you over? Fuck yeah, man. You tapped that right?”

Ashton blushed. “I… Come on, man, we just met.”

Garrett idly took a bite of his cheeseburger. “Sure, sure, but you know, older woman, prime of her life. I’m so proud of you, bro.”

Ashton looked serious. She didn’t have these kinds of conversations. Especially now. “Look, it’s… I think she might be bi, or a lesbian.” Ashton realized that maybe for the first time in her life she spoke those words.

Garrett scratched his chin. “Yeah, that checks out. I’ve heard a few rumors about Jess too. You know, she’s never had a boyfriend. But it doesn’t matter, a lot of chicks are like that. They’ll get busy with another girl if they are horny.”

Ashton frowned, sure Garrett was her best friend, but he could be an asshole. “Oh yeah, what do they say about me?” she asked.

“Huh,” Garrett grinned, “Seriously?”

Ashton nodded and idly took a bite of a fry. “Sure, we’re talking about people behind their backs, what do people say behind my back?”

“All right,” Garret said and leaned back in his chair. “People ask me, is your friend gay? Of course I tell them you’re a rock solid hetero, kind of the romantic type, waiting for the right lady to sweep you off your feet.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Ashton said.

Garrett put his chair back on the ground and leaned in closer. “It’s true, right? I mean you do want to get with Marie, or maybe Jess?”

Ashton blushed, she did right? I mean, she was so excited for what she thought was a date. “Yeah, sure.”

Garrett finished chewing, and then a big smile appeared on his face. “Oh dude, I forgot to tell you, this is crazy. I got invited to the Wolf Fang Game. I played with them Friday night.”

“Wait, what? With Rick, and Jake?”

Garrett smiled, “Yeah, it’s crazy the way they play D&D. I mean it’s nothing like what we do. These guys have been running the same characters for a couple years now. I have no idea what levels they are on. Hell, I don’t even know what class they are. Half the time when they want to take an action, they write it on a note and pass it to the DM. They’re after each other as much as they’re after the monsters and shit.”

Ashton scratched her head. “I can’t really imagine playing that way, like how do you even get anything done?”

Garrett checked his watch. “Yeah the pace is a bit slow, lots of note passing. But dude, get this, So I roll this mage. They trick me into helping them assassinate someone, then they sell my character to a guy who owns a brothel, and he turns my character into a freaking prostitute.”

Ashton shook his head in surprise, “What the hell? Was your character a girl?”

“Hell no man, the brothel guy put a girdle of masculinity/feminity on him. I’m playing a fucking tranny, can you beleive that shit.”

Ashton looked around, while they had been talking, an older woman had sat down to eat a few seats behind them. Her face was a mask of annoyance and disappointment. Ashton got to her feet.

Tranny? There it is, a word Ashton had heard dozens of times, only now it felt real. Sure, Ashton knew there were men who dressed like women, actors did it for laughs. There were lame TV shows, hell it was even in Shakespear. She was also vaguely aware that men dressed like women for sexual reasons, either to get off or get people off, and some of them did it for money. Ashton felt cold.

“I gotta go man,” Ashton announced. She walked up close to Garrett and nodded towards the old lady, “I think you’re ticking her off.”

Garrett said an exaggerated sorry, then followed Ashton out, “Hey Friday night, I’m going to be playing with the Wolf Gang?”

Ashton turned around, “Oh, thought we were on, I’ve invited the others?”

Garrett shrugged, “Sorry man, I don’t think they are going to make me a regular or anything, so I’ll be back, but it’s a Wolf Fang man. How do I turn them down?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Ashton said and walked off.

***

The Friday night crowd at Circus Video was hopping, Ashton walked in and saw Marie behind the counter and almost turned around. She glanced back and waved. Ashton waved and wandered around the store. She didn’t even look at the classic and art section and walked over to comedy.

A few minutes later she was facing Marie. She smiled and then worked the keyboard in front of her and scanned the barcode on the plastic box. “Wayne’s World,” a classic.

Ashton nodded, “Yeah, I’m not in a thinking mood right now. Party on.” she said.

Marie laughed, “Party on Garth. Hey, got a few minutes?”

Ashton checked her watch, “Ahh, well.”

Marie turned to the overweight guy manning the rewind machine behind her. “Hey Larry, watch the counter for me. I’m going to take a break.” Larry grumbled, and a moment later Ashton was following Marie out to her car, a dirty Volvo station wagon.

Ashton ran her finger over the hood, leaving a line of clean paint showing. “Wow, never really seen a Volvo before.”

“Yeah, good car, I lived in it for a while. No reason to keep it clean when you live on a dirt road.” Marie opened up her door and sat down. “Get in.” Ashton dropped in the dusty and fragrant car, a sprig of mixed herbs hung from the mirror.

“More witchcraft?” Ashton said, pointing at the herbs.

Marie smiled, “Just some nice smells, lavender, mint, some lemon balm.” She reached into the console and pulled out a little tin with a joint and lighter. She lit the joint and took a drag before offering it to Ashton. She cranked the window, but the car filled with the unmistakable odor of cannabis.

“Want a smoke?”

Ashton felt nervous and a strong need to get out of the car but held still. “Nahh, all good.”

“So…”

“So…”

Marie snuffed out the joint and stashed it back in the box. “Are you doing okay?”

“No,” Ashton said. Marie put her hand on Ashton’s shoulder.

Ashton looked into her eyes. “Do you know what’s going to happen to me? Like with your power or whatever?”

Marie shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. If it’s any consolation right now, you’re not as loud as you used to be. That’s probably a good sign.”

“What does that mean?”

“It just means that you’re not hiding as much now.”

A blonde wearing very short jean shorts and a crop top and a redhead in a pair of baggy bib overalls walked by the car. Ashton’s attention settled on the girl with overalls. That would be me, she thought.

A moment later she twisted in the car seat, suddenly regretting not taking a drag of the weed, “I don’t want to be a tranny.”

Marie scrunched her face. “A tranny?”

Ashton felt herself growing angry. “Well? What then? You told me I was a girl. I’ve got a dick Marie. Last I checked, girls don’t have those. I don’t want to end up some cracked out tranny whore.

Marie put her hands on Ashton’s shoulders and drew in close. “Listen to me, you’re not a tranny and you’re not a whore. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” She took her hands off Ashton’s shoulders and put her key in the ignition to check the clock.

Ashton glanced at her big ugly shoes. “Why did you have to tell me this?”

“I didn’t tell you anything you didn’t know. Ash… Do you mind if I call you that?”

Ashton nodded. “I… It sounds nice.”

“Ash, do you think people want to become cracked out whores?”

Ashton rolled her eyes. “No, I guess not.”

“Imagine you were born in a different place, with different parents. Like, with totally different circumstances. I don’t know what your future is going to be. You could grow your hair out, live anywhere, or stay here, get married to that redhead.”

Ashton blushed and smiled.

“I’ve got to go back to work, but listen, Sunday morning I’ve got to go to Makanda and pick up some stuff. Do you want to come with me?”

“Okay, yeah, why not.”

“Great,” Marie gave herself a quick spritz from a tinybottle, and the car took on the scent of a headshop. They got out and hugged. “Ash, your whole life you’ve been told there’s one way to live, but I promise you there are many ways to live.”

“Like being a girl who likes girls?” Ash asked with a crooked grin as Marie started back to the video store.

“Exactly.”

***

Marie laughed. “Okay, I thought I knew the basic premise of the game, but the other players turned Garrett’s character into a woman and sold her into slavery. Seriously, these guys need to get laid.”

The Volvo sped down a winding 2 lane highway that cut between old and new strip mines. The sun was creeping over the trees and Beck’s “Loser” played quietly on the radio.

“Yeah, listen to this. They played again Friday night, apparently they pimped her out to get into some castle or something. Anyway, after the game Rick, Jake, and Garrett went out to Harvest Chapel. Rick did some kind of ritual so the bus wouldn’t start. I seriously think these guys are losing their minds,” Ashton explained and then took another bite of her poptart.

Marie didn’t seem to find that funny, “Wait… what happened exactly, what did they do.”

“I dunno really, he just said a ritual, like the other night I guess out of Hart’s Bluff. Like he prayed for the bus to not start or break down or something.”

Marie frowned and turned the radio down. “Ash, we both know that there are things in the world we can’t explain. My Grandmother taught me what she knew, and it was all rooted in Christian faith.”

“I don’t think they teach that egg thing at seminary,” Ashton interrupted.

“Yeah, I expanded on her teachings, but the fundamentals are the same. This thing with Rick, I think he woke something up. Something old and evil.”

The air changed in the car, Ashton squeezed a little too hard and broke the poptart. “What are you doing, like with Jess, and me. I mean, what’s the goal?”

Marie focused on a series of tight turns in front of her before finally answering. “There are rules, Ash—like as part of the tradition. My Grandmother broke the rules when she taught me instead of my father. Then I broke the rules when I came out to them as gay. I broke them again when I dropped out of college and started wandering. The tradition states that the firstborn teaches their firstborn and only their firstborn. I’m not planning on having a firstborn, and I’ve broken so many rules already… I want to share what I have learned with others. I just don’t want to see it die.”

Ashton looked out the window and watched the long shadows cross over the barren dirt of the strip cuts, then turned to face Marie. “You want me to break the rules too?”

“I just want you to know you can be yourself.”

They continued on in silence for some time, taking a progressively smaller series of roads until they arrived at a small house. A nicely hand-painted sign declared this to be Synthias Exotics. An older woman with broad shoulders and flowing grey hair exited a greenhouse around back. She greeted Marie at the car.

“I know I’m a few months late, but happy birthday,” Marie said and handed the woman a gift bag. She grinned fiercely and pulled out a Macrame shawl. “Oh my word, it’s beautiful.” She wrapped it over her shoulders.

The woman turned her attention toward Ashton and pushed her small metal glasses up her nose. She was wearing a well worn, neutral blue tiered dress that laced up at the bodice. The shawl’s delicate knots made the perfect accompaniment to her dress. It reminded Ashton of something Stevie Nicks would wear. “You’ve brought a friend?”

“This is Ashton, they are perhaps going to learn the tradition,” Marie said.

The woman casually wiped her hands on her dress’ skirt and reached out for a handshake. “I’m Synthia, welcome.”

Over the next hour Ashton trailed behind them through the greenhouse, then the raised beds and garden rows around it. She listened to them talk about plants the way her Dad and his friends talked about mining—all jargon that went over her head.

“The bloodroot came back?” Synthia asked, pinching a stem between her fingers.

“Late I thought we lost it after the freeze.”

“Come on, girl, I told you, layer up that mulch. I’ve got comfrey if you need a starter.”

They discussed treating a woman in Cobden with a rash that wouldn’t clear. A boy in Jonesboro with night terrors. Synthia showed a new strain of valerian she’d been cultivating. “Stronger sedative, less bitter.” Marie bent down to smell the leaves and nodded.

Ashton’s attention drifted to a row of small glass jars on a shelf, each labeled in cramped handwriting. “Those are for finishing work,” Synthia said simply.

Soon Ashton was loading paper grocery stacks of plants, cuttings, and special mulch into the back of Marie’s station wagon.

Marie and Synthia said their goodbyes and hugged. Synthia then took Ashton in a deep embrace, “You’re in good hands, Ashton.”

They drove for a long time before Ashton finally broke the silence. “Synthia is very tall.”

“Yes, she is.”

Ashton lowered her face down. “She’s a man, isn’t she. Or I mean, she was born a man?”

“She's a woman, I don't know how she was born.”

“I thought you knew things about people,” Ashton grumbled.

Marie glanced over with a kind smile. “I only know things people are trying to hide, things people feel guilty about.”

It felt like an accusation. Ashton rolled the window down, “And I glow like a fucking lightbulb.”

“You did. but you’re much dimmer now. I’m sorry Ashton, I’m not trying to push you into anything, it’s not like that. I just want you to see that you’re not alone,” Marie said.

Ashton kept her eyes out the window. “Maybe I liked being alone, maybe I liked not having someone know everything about me.” The words came out harsh and defensive.

“Okay, I get it. I promise you, I wasn’t trying to like, spy on you, it’s just you were so… Marie braked hard as they came up on the stark white church bus laid on its side like a discarded toy. She quickly parked. The emergency door on the side of the bus, now facing the sky, swung up and hands pushed it back until it fell over against the side of the bus with a thump. A man started climbing out, his arms and face covered with blood.

Marie was out of the car and running towards the bus. Ashton got out and the large man in farmer’s overalls yelled for her. “We need to call 911.”

“Ash, come on, help me!” Marie yelled.

Ashton ran over and braced her hands together. Marie could use them to get up on the side of the bus. She carefully walked over to where the man was trying to pull himself out of the emergency exit. She got low and gave him a hand.

The man got on his hands and knees, and looked up at Marie with tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what happened, it wouldn’t stop.

“Can you help get people out?” Marie asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” he answered.

“Ash, back of the car, there is a first aid kit, and my bag, oh and a towel,” Married yelled down.

‘On it!” Ashton said and dashed back. Another car was pulling off the road and then a luxury sedan pulled onto the shoulder. A man in a business suit rolled the window down and brandished his car phone. I’m calling 911.”

The bus driver lowered himself back down and Marie followed him. Inside the bus was chaos: groaning, bleeding, crying, confusion. A sideways wheelchair with a crumpled body. She raised herself back up out of the emergency window.

Ashton tossed up the kit and the towels. A man lowered himself down into the bus. “Are you a nurse or something?” he asked.

“Yeah I’ve got some first aid training. Okay, let’s triage. You guys help the people who can get out, I’ll see to those who can’t,” Marie said as she opened up her first aid kit and set it on the floor which was now the opposite side of the bus. She slung her macrame bag over her shoulder. As more people gathered at the scene, Ashton and the guy in the suit climbed up to help people out of the emergency hatch.

Inside the bus the man yelled, “If you can walk I’ll help you get out.” A few people started moving towards him and with the bus driver’s help he started lifting them up. Ashton and the guy in the suit were there to pull them out. More good Samaritans were nearby to help them down from the side of the bus.

Marie made her way to the overturned wheelchair, the body underneath it wasn’t breathing, she touched the wold woman’s shoulder and said a quick word of prayer then moved on. Next an old man with a jagged bleeding wound in his leg, she gave him a compress and directions to hold steady pressure.

Next a groaning woman, ‘My neck,” she moaned.

Stay still, Can you move your fingers, feel your feet?” Good, it’s not broken. She stabilized the old woman’s neck. She heard sirens approaching.

The next seat revealed horror. A woman bent and broken like a rag doll, a child crying over her body and a baby in an overturned carrier, a little blueish foot sticking out from under it. The woman wasn’t moving. Marie picked up the 4 year old. He had been thrown around but seemed okay. She handed him to the man behind her and turned the baby carrier over.

The baby girl strapped inside wasn’t breathing right, she was turning blue. Marie tried CPR, but it wasn’t working. The baby was going to die. She carefully took her from her carrier. She reached into her bag and found an oil she was holding for something just like this. She opened it and doused the child quickly. She pulled out a small chain of knots and carefully tied it around her head. It looked like it belonged there. Marie laid her hands on the baby’s tiny chest and began to pray.

Ashton watched, looking down from the emergency hatch. Marie closed her eyes, she prayed, she pressed with her fingers around the child’s neck, her face scrunched up. Ashton saw pain in her eyes. Then something happened, the baby took a deep breath and began crying, loud. Color returned to her face.

Firefighters, police, ambulance workers were on the scene and Ashton was helped off the bus. She sat on the ground 50 feet away shaking from adrenaline as a firefighter inside the bus handed up a healthy baby, then child and finally helped Marie up out of the emergency hatch. Ashton rushed over and took her. She was pale, blood smeared, some from those she treated and some from her own nose.”

“What happened,” Ashton asked.

Marie stumbled and Ashton caught her. She struggled to catch her breath and said, “I need to sit down.” An ambulance worker rushed over and wrapped a blanket over her and guided her towards an ambulance.

“I’m with her!” Ashton yelled and followed behind.