Under A Painted Sky (Spirit Warrior Series) (3 page)

“So, where are you
taking me?” I asked.

“I thought we would
start in Old Town. You can really get the feel of the place there,” Logan
replied.

“Sounds
great.”

“Here we are,” he said
as we pulled into a parking space on the square of Old Town.

We got out and headed
down the street. I saw Indians all sitting on the sidewalk. They had colorful
blankets laid out with jewelry all the way down the sidewalk in front of the
businesses. I looked down and stopped. The jewelry was beautiful with all kinds
of stones.

Logan said, “They
handcraft their own jewelry made from turquoise, jasper, coral and onyx, as
well as other gems and then come here to sell it. Much of it was mined here in
New Mexico. This is how they make a living.”

“Wow, I love this
stuff,” I said.

“Yes, it is beautiful.
If you want to buy anything, I suggest you go and talk to them about it and ask
questions and compliment their work. They consider that to be respectful
business. They don’t like it when people say how much and buy it and walk off
like they don’t matter.”

“Okay, thanks for the
heads up,” I said.

I took a few pictures.
He started walking away and then said, “Come over here.”

I walked to him and
there was a band set up playing music. It was not rock and roll. The band was
using handmade-looking instruments. I saw flutes and drums and other things
that I didn’t recognize. The music was haunting, yet so peaceful with water
sounds and the flutes, it just drew you in. Logan told me the instruments were
handmade wooden flutes and these Native Americans had been performing here for
years and years. They were awesome.

All the buildings on
the town square were made of adobe and colored in sand and tan shades. There
was color everywhere. You could see Indian blankets and chili peppers hanging
from the rafters. I also saw pottery everywhere and jewelry that was amazing
and cheap. I couldn’t believe the prices. Could you say accessory paradise?
There were clothes stores with southwest apparel. We passed through stores
where they made drums with skins and Native American flutes and guitars. I took
many pictures. Next, we went into art galleries.

The paintings were
amazing. This has all been very cool so far.

“Are you about ready
for some lunch?” Logan asked.

“That would be great. I
am pretty thirsty.”

“Yes, I should have
told you. It’s the altitude here that is so different from where you came from.
Pretty much everyone here carries a water bottle everywhere they go. As a
matter of fact, sit here a second.” He pointed to a bench. “I’ll be right
back,” he said.

In about three minutes,
he was back and was carrying a small basket. “Here,” he said as he presented it
to me.

“What is this?”

“A
present to welcome you to Albuquerque.”
[LEB1]
 

“No, really, you
shouldn’t have.”

“It’s nothing really,
but you will thank me later; trust me.”

“Well, thank you,” I
said.

“Why don’t we eat at La
Placita
and you can look at your basket after we
order?” He pointed to the place in front of us.

“Sounds
good to me.”

We were seated by the
waitress and she asked for our drink order. I ordered Coke Zero and he ordered
water.

I looked at my menu and
said, “I guess you have been here before?”

“Many times,” he said.

“So, what do you
recommend?”

“I recommend my
favorite
fajitas especial.”

“It sounds good to me.
I love fajitas.”

“Oh, I guess I should
tell you that New Mexico has a state question,” Logan said.

“I’ve never heard of a
state question before. What is it?” I asked.

“It is red or green?”
he replied.

“What does that mean?”

“That means, do you want
red chili peppers or green, or you could have both and that’s called Christmas.
Chili peppers are eaten on everything here, even breakfast food,” he said.

“Wow. What if I don’t
want any peppers?” I asked.

“Then, you are pretty much
out of luck because they put them in everything. But don’t worry, you will get
used to it,” Logan said with a laugh.

“So, which ones are the
hottest?” I asked.

“I can tell no
difference in the heat myself,” he replied.

The waitress came to
take our order and I ordered the same as Logan. He smiled wide in approval.

“Now, I must check out
this mystery gift,” I said.

There was a card
attached that said, ‘New Mexico survival kit.’

Inside the basket was
all natural healing lotion, sunscreen, lip balm, natural tears, sunglasses, a
bottle of water and a tiny language book.

As I was putting
everything back in the basket Logan explained, “The water is for what I
explained earlier and the lotion is because until you are used to the dry air,
it dries out your skin and the lip stuff is because it also dries out your
lips. The eye stuff is for dry eyes because there is no humidity. I believe the
rest explains itself,” he said.

“Well, thank you,
because I didn’t know these things,” I said.

“I give one to all of
my new homeowners who are not from here and have heard many other people say
they wished someone had told them,” he said.

“Well, you are very
thoughtful,” I said.

“It’s nothing, but
hearing you say that makes me wonder if there is truth in what people say about
me. That I am an old soul?” he replied.

“That is very funny
because they say the same thing about me. I just decided to take it like I was
a brainiac,” I replied.

“You are a very pretty
brainiac,” he said.

My face must’ve been
glowing on fire as I blushed. “Thanks,” I replied as soon as I could speak. Our
food arrived and I was saved.
“Looks great.”

I took a bite. It was
good and it was warm. I continued eating and it got hotter and hotter until my
throat felt like it was closing up and a little squeal sound came out instead
of breathing. He grabbed these bread pockets that looked like pillows, stuck
the spout of a honey squeeze bottle in it, handed it across to me and said,
“Eat this now.”

I eagerly grabbed for
it and bit down. The honey filled my mouth and I could breathe again. When I
composed myself I said, “Thanks, I think you saved my life.”

“No, it’s just that
you’re not used to it. In a month, you’ll be asking for extra peppers because
this will be too mild. If you just squirt a little honey on the pillows your
throat will be okay,” he said.

“I think I will just
stick with these pillows,” I replied.

He laughed. We finished
our lunch and I tried to pay.

He wouldn’t let me. “I
told you, I have already been paid. I feel guilty enough taking the money after
I met you. Are you ready to go on exploring some more?” he asked.

“Sure,
where to?”

He said, “Well, we
could spend a couple of days here looking at all the shops. You know where this
is now and you really have to take your time and see all of these amazing
artists of every kind. Why don’t we go to Central Avenue which is the famous
Route 66? The scene is a little closer to our age, although you really find
people our age wherever you go. It’s really not segregated by age here. The
people here are happy and just live and let live. Every day is a party of some
kind here. It really is the land of enchantment. You just watch. You won’t want
to leave this town.”

“I already love the
people and colors and adobes. It is beautiful. Route 66 sounds good to me,” I said.

We headed to his truck.

“Oh, yes, did I tell
you I woke up to balloons off the veranda this morning?” I said.

“No, but I’m not
surprised. That happens all the time here. I have actually seen them off of
your veranda,” he smirked.

“Oh, I guess you would
since you are the caretaker and all,” I replied.

He was driving and I
saw him looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I tried not to look at him
even though he was very easy on the eyes.

“So, you are a nurse.”

“Yes. I’m just waiting
to get my license.”

“I think you will make
a good nurse,” he replied.

“Thanks. I think you
are good at your job as well. You sure made things nice and easy for me. It was
wonderful.”

“I guess, in a way, we
are in the same line of business. We both take care of people, but my people
are not sick; or maybe in a way, they are. They are sick of the rat race and
stressed out, ready for vacation. I try to take all of their worries away by
taking care of all of the magical details for their retreat,” Logan said.

“You’re right. I guess
we are in the same business. Thanks again; this is really fun.”

“It is my pleasure,
trust me,” he said.

I watched and saw the
streets were full of people.

“The famous Route 66.”

“Yes, this is also
called ‘The Mother Road’ because it goes from LA to Chicago,” Logan said.

“I didn’t know that.”

“I actually drove it
with my dad all the way to Chicago from here,” he said.

“Wow. I thought it was
ridiculously long to the East Coast when I drove here, but I guess you drove
further than that.”

“I really enjoyed it,
but I like road trips. For me, it is just a new adventure,” Logan said.

“I love adventures,
too. I just thought it was a long drive all alone. I wish I could get a job in
adventures then; I would be in heaven,” I replied.

“Are you ready to do
some walking?” Logan asked.

“Sure.”

We headed down the
streets and saw murals painted on the walls of the building and neon signs
everywhere. We even saw some old restored fast cars. There were colors
everywhere you looked.

We walked through some
shops. A horse, life sized, with paints all over it, caught my eye.

“That is a painted
pony. Many artists paint these and they’re collectibles. My sister has some.”

“They’re cool.”

We continued to walk up
and down the street talking with music being played through some speaker
systems.

“This place looks like
the melting pot of the world. All nationalities, races, sexes, eras and ages
meshed together doing their own thing and everyone is fine with it. I think
this place should be the role model for the world. It is unbelievable,” I said.

“You may be on to
something there. I guess that is why I am so comfortable here, because the
whole town is pretty much like this. Live and let live,” Logan said.

We continued checking
out all of the sites.

After much more time
had passed, Logan asked, “Are you ready to eat something, Isabella?”

“Red
or green?”

He burst out laughing
and said, “I know a place that may be more mild and to your liking. Do you
trust me?”

“I liked the other
place. I just got a little too much heat, but I trust you.”

We got in the truck and
drove to a place called Zinc.

It had pretty stained
glass and you could smell the fresh flowers as you entered. It was nice.

We got a table and
ordered our drinks.

Logan said, “May I
suggest the steak frites, or the chicken
paillard
lyonnaise
?”

“I think the steak
frites sounds good.”

He told the waitress we
would both have that.

Steak frites was a char
broiled Angus strip loin with house-made French fried potatoes with demi-glace
and maître d’hotel butter. It sounded delicious, and no peppers. I liked this
guy. We chit-chatted until our food arrived and I found out he had no brothers,
just a sister. His whole family lived here and worked with the company.

We enjoyed our meal and
headed back to the truck.

“Well, that was
delicious, Logan. Thanks for a great meal,” I told him.

“You’re most welcome. I
felt like I needed to redeem myself after almost choking you to death,” Logan
replied.

“You didn’t, but it was
yummy,” I said.

“Are you ready to head
in for the night and be picked back up tomorrow?” he asked.

“I am kind of tired,
but you’ve done enough. You don’t need to waste your day tomorrow on me.”

“I told you, I have
already been paid and I’d rather not return the money. And you’re no waste,”
Logan said.

“Well, all right, if
you insist,” I said.

“How about tomorrow we
do some hiking? There is a place I want to show you.”