Anna Peregrine--A Map of Days

Chapter Eight

   Before I knew it, we were walking through the motel, and there was a flash, and then evening became afternoon. We came into a bright morning with a beautiful courtyard and motel rooms. We had to have been in the late sixties or early seventies.
    "A loop entrance built to accommodate cars. How modern!" Millard said.
    Jacob ran to catch up with Paul, "Okay, we're here.Now, will you answer our questions?"
    "You'd better ask Miss Billie. She runs the place," Paul said.
    He led us through the courtyard and to a bungalow that had a sign that told us it was the office. Paul turned to Bronwyn, "Leave that. No one will bother it."
    Bronwyn dropped the car and ran to catch up with us. Looking around, we could see other people of the loop. There were two older men by the pool doing crossword puzzles. They lowered their papers as we passed by to look. A curtain in another bungalow moved and we could see a woman's face through the window.
    "Miss Billie?" Paul said, knocking on the door. He opened it up and gestured for us to go in. "These people broke down."
    We walked into the room to find a registration desk in the back along with a few chairs. There was a middle aged woman who was dressed nicely, and there were miniature poodles sitting on her lap.
    "Oh Lord," she said, revealing a thick southern accent. "Anyone seen 'em come in?"
    "I don't think so," Paul replied.
    "What about the highwaymen?"
    "No sign of them."
    "I don't like it," the woman shook her head. "It's a risk. Every time, it's a risk. But so long as you're here . . . Don't reckon I can just throw you to the wolves, now can I?"
    "If you'll excuse me, I've got some things to tend to," Paul said before leaving.
    Miss Billie kept her eyes on us, "You ain't gonna turn old on me, are you? I got enough old folks here as it is, and if you're fixin to die you can just go on and do it somewhere else."
    "We're not going to die. We just have some questions," Jacob said.
    "Such as, are you the headmistress here?" Bronwyn asked.
    "Head–what?" Miss Billie asked.
    "An Ymbryne."
    "Oh, Lordy! Do I really look that old?"
    Not all Ymbrynes are old, there's two that are in their late thirties and one that's nineteen . . .
    "She's a demi-ymbryne," I explained.
    "It's like an Ymbryne–light," Jacob said.
    "I'm the manager and that's enough. I collect the money and try to keep the place from falling down. Rex stops in every few weeks to wind the clock," Miss Billie pointed to a grandfather clock that stood against the opposite wall.
    "Rex?"
    "Rex Posthlewaite, loop–keeper extraordinaire. He does plumbing and a little electrical, too, though he ain't licensed."
    "Let me get this straight," I said. "You don't have an Ymbryne here, and the fake one only stops by every few weeks?"
    "Only he can wind it. Or another loop–keeper, I suppose. But Rex works the whole northern part of Florida, so the pickings are mighty slim."
    "But what if he gets sick?" Millard asked.
    "Or dies?" Enoch asked.
    "He ain't allowed to," Miss Billie said.
    "What is this thing, anyway?" Enoch asked, stepping towards the clock. "I've never seen a–"
    The three days in Miss Billie's lap started to yap loudly.
    "Don't you go near that!" the manager snapped.
    "I was only looking!"
    "Don't look at it, neither. Can't have you messing' with my loop clock, boy. You could knock everything out of whack."
    "I've got something for you," Jacob said once the dogs started yapping, he held out the package from H.
    "What is it?" Miss Billie asked, peering over her glasses.
    "I don't know, but if you're the manager, then I think it's for you."
    "You open it."
    Jacob did so, and all it was was a let down. A pouch of dog treats.
    "You've got to be kidding me," I said.
    The manager's face lit up, "How nice! These are the girls' favorite!" The dogs saw the bag and started squirming. Miss Billie took the bag from my boyfriend and held it above their heads. "Eh! Eh! Don't be greedy!"
    "We went through all that to deliver some dog food?" Enoch asked.
    "Not just any old dog food."
    "You're not curious who it's from?" Emma asked.
    "I know who it's from. When you see him, thank him kindly for me, and tell him he's back on my Christmas list. Now–I got to take the girls for a tinkle, so here's the rules of my place. Number one, don't touch my clock. Number two, we don't like noise or commotion here, so don't go making any. Number three, there's a filling station with a garage next door where you can work on your usted car. When you're done, I expect you to be gone. There's no vacancy," Miss Billie turned to go.
    "Have you got anything for us?" Jacob asked.
    "Like what?"
    "A clue. We're looking for a . . . portal?"
    "Oh, honey. If you don't have a clue, I'm afraid I can't help you!" she laughed. "Now go on, I've got to walk the girls."