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I nod, prompting her to say more.
But all she says is, “How are your nerves, by the way? That old place can be scary at night for new people.”
“Pretty sure I’ll be OK,” I say.
She winks, and the look is somehow both sweet and foreboding, like a character in a horror movie.
Esme is far too excited for a simple drive through the woods, but maybe she really likes autumn foliage.
She fiddles with the radio furiously. “Don’t you have satellite?”
“No. Poor college student here.”
“Hmph. Well, I’ll have to take care of that. Wait! Oh my god, I love this song!”
Esme opens the sunroof and sticks her hands up into the cold October air, singing along to the radio.
“You’re a terrific singer,” I say, diving for the wheel.
“Thanks! I used to take voice lessons. I don’t really remember why I stopped. It was around the same time I stopped driving cars.”
She’s going to be more trouble than I first realized. Are we sure she’s not a teenager?
“Why have you not driven a car in years?” I ask, girding my loins for the answer.
“Well, the doctor put me on certain medications, and I’m not supposed to operate a car while I’m on them.”
Whoa. This sounds serious. “Is that why you see a doctor every week? And the nutritionist?”
She nods and, to her credit, keeps her eyes on the road. “And the reiki therapist and the tarot card reader.”
“Wow, OK.”
“I wanted to try something. I decided not to take them for a few days as an experiment. They’ve completely worn off, and guess what? I feel amazing!”
“That’s wonderful. So, where are we driving to?” I ask.
“I saw on the internet that this little town nearby is having its fall festival this weekend. I really want to see it.”
“A fall festival? Where?”
“It had a funny sort of name, like Destiny or something. No! Fate. It was Fate. Isn’t that funny? I’ve always wanted to go to a fall festival,” she says.
“I’m not sure this is the best idea,” I say. “We have to be back for dinner by 7 and I don’t want to lose my job.”
“Here’s the exit! Yeehaw!”
Relieved at the prospect of her not driving anymore, I take a moment to absorb what I’m seeing. As soon as we hit the downtown area, the charm is off the charts.
The fall festival is like something out of a movie. Autumn mums and straw bales decorate every corner. A building that clearly used to be the county seat has been transformed into something called “The Courthouse Shoppes” and is also advertising a ghost tour.
There’s cider and pumpkin beer, hot cocoa, live music, corn hole, crafts, a petting zoo, and a whole row of tents dedicated to fiber arts: knitting, crocheting, and weaving, complete with demonstrations of sheep and goat shearing.
The first stop is the beer booth, because who can say no to pumpkin ale?
Apparently, Esme can.
“No alcohol. No. I can’t drink that at all, according to my doctor.”
