Ashes

"Allen, wake up." Anna said, nudging my shoulder. I slowly opened my eyes, seeing the back of a seat. I fully opened my eyes, and I realized that the flight must have ended. Anna had already grabbed her bags from the compartments above, and she was throwing my one bag into my lap.

"Thanks," I said groggily. "Are we already in Nashville?" I asked, getting out of my seat and exiting the plane.

"Close. We're in the next town over. It's a little village with a few cottages and whatever they have in Tennessee." She said with disgust. My sister wasn't much for the outdoors. Or heat. Or rednecks. She wasn't much of a people-person. She barely even hung out with her friends. But having a famous family can really make you an introvert.

"Why is there an airport inside a small town and not directly in Nashville?"

"Well, the town was pretty much built around the airport. Like I said, it isn't that far away. Maybe a five minute drive." She carted her luggage around the whole airport before stopping at a small pretzel store. She made me sit by a set of tables with all of the bags while she ordered the food. A few minutes later, she arrived with ten large pretzels and two large Cokes. I stared at her in amazement.

"What?" She said, stuffing her face with a pretzel. "And before you go on saying how fat i'll get, i'm drinking Diet Coke. See? Diet." She motioned to the label.

"That's like saying you'll go to heaven because you prayed before you died," I muttered. She stuffed her face with another pretzel.

"Shut up." She stuck her tongue out at me, pretzel bits and all.

"Are you done yet? We need to take care of this guy as fast as possible." Anna rolled her eyes before stuffing the last of her pretzel into her mouth and throwing out the wrappers.

"How are we even going to figure out where this guy is? Nashville is pretty big, and he could also be anywhere else on this world right now." I contemplated for a moment.

"There hast to be somewhere that somebody can recognize who we are looking for.
"

"And that's another thing!" My sis whined. "We don't even know what he looks like! Or his name!" I spotted an old store in the distance, about a block or two away. There were big bold letters that said "Nothin' better than good 'ole Western Food,," well, that's what it said before my dyslexia started acting up. The letters changed and contorted into Roman words, which I could easily translate. The stores real name was "Roman, Greek and Amazon Antiques and Collectibles."

Notes