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The mother is dressed in long, dark robes that billow and flow around her feet, and the dress seems to flow over her body like stormy waters. She moves gracefully in comparison to her daughter, who is crawling alongside her in a horribly contorted position, crab-walking as her body twists into terrible angles.
Suddenly, the little girl’s head twists sickeningly, and she’s looking right at me with jaundiced eyes. They are across the street, but my gasp is audible, yet as I go to see if they need help, the mother turns and taps at her daughter’s nose.
“Now now Lina, it’s rude to stare,” she gently admonishes. The girl cracks her neck back into place, and the two disappear from my sight as they round the corner.
The woman’s chastisement reminds me that I am also staring and I turn away, but it’s hard to forget what I just saw. I remember the characters I witnessed when I first drove into town, and recall their strangeness as well. Maybe Curiosity has its own theater company or something like that, perhaps?
Over the next few days, I take more opportunities to observe the townspeople from behind my cafe windows, while I wait for last minute orders to arrive. The interior is now a series of bright, spring colors in combinations of pink, blue, and yellow with only the tattered, black curtains remaining to keep the work I’ve done hidden, for now. It’s through these windows that I view the town’s residents, and what I’ve observed tends to leave me more perplexed, with more questions than answers.
Deciding to seek out some advice on the matter, I head next door in the direction of the general goods store. Chet Wilson is the only person I actually know in this town, and he’s offered help a few times now. It really has been neglectful of me to not visit his shop. So it’s only out of polite civility that I find myself fixing my hair and smoothing out my dress, in order to pay a visit to my ruggedly handsome neighbor.
Luckily, I only need to convince myself of that fact, something I am quite masterful at. Unfortunately, my extra efforts at my appearance are unnecessary after all, as I walk through the front door and see no Chet in sight. Instead, I am casually greeted by a rather attractive, honey-haired woman who is browsing through a small magazine.
“Welcome to Wilson’s Wares,” she greets monotonously, as if reading from a prompter. “Just holler if you need anything,” she adds, without looking up.
“Uh, thank you?” I return the greeting as a question, awkwardness quickly setting in. Chet never said anything about being married, but then again, I never actually asked. “Um, I was actually wondering if Mr. Wilson was around? He said I could stop by.”
A small, squishy ball seems to roll out from nowhere, and lightly taps into my shoe. I glance down at it distractedly, as the woman behind the counter looks up at the sound of my voice. Her eyes widen in exclamation, and she quickly swings from her perch to come around to me directly.
“Aha, you must be that Perez girl. Gabriella, right? I’m Veronica Moore, Chet’s shopkeeper.” The blonde comes right up to introduce herself this time, and she’s even prettier up close. I feel short and plain standing next to such a willowy creature, but her voice has taken on a warmer, more enthusiastic tone from a few seconds ago.
“Chet’s not in right now. He had to go handle a delivery towards the city limits, but he’ll probably be back this afternoon,” she explains, oblivious to my nervous fiddling. “Feel free to take a look around though if you’d like, or you can come by later, if you’d be more comfortable then.”
Okay, so maybe she isn’t quite oblivious to my anxiety. “No that’s alright, it wasn’t a big deal. Just a question I wanted to ask. Besides, I wanted to get a look at the store anyway.”
“Feel free,” she replies, waving a hand around. “Although I will forewarn you, if you’ve seen one general goods store, you’ve probably seen them all. Trust me, even Chet gets bored with his place. I think that’s why he hired me more than anything else.”
“Oh, so you two aren’t married?” The question is out of my mouth before I can filter it, and I silently pray that I’m not so transparent.
Veronica only throws her head back and laughs. She has a rich laugh, but it also carries notes of a child’s twinkle, and I find myself smiling, despite my embarrassment. “No, we’re not married, just partners-in-crime. I have other obligations in my life right now, so no romance in my cards.” She shrugs casually. “You said you had a question though. Is there anything I can help with, or is it more personal?”
“Ah, it’s a little strange, actually. I—” A bell rings, cutting me off. The front door swings open, and Chet walks through breezily, the sunshine outside seems to form a halo around his physique, and casts natural highlights in his hair. He’s wearing one of his rolled, trademark flannels, and I find myself grinning stupidly at the now-familiar sight.
“Look, I managed to make it back with the delivery truck still in one piece, so it looks like you owe me twenty bucks. Either that, or—oh, hey Gabriella!” Chet teases Veronica until he spots me, then his attention is fully on me.
“Hi Chet,” I reply, remembering that it’s harder to hide my blush in full daylight. “How are you?”
“I’m great, especially seeing you out and about. What brings you by?”
“Workers’ rights,” Veronica deadpans between us. “She doesn’t believe you should exploit your employees by making stupid bets about antique trucks.”
“I actually had a question about the town,” I interject softly. “Well, about the townspeople, more specifically. That is to say, well, ah, have either of you noticed something different about the people here?”
“Different in what way?” Chet asks easily enough, but he’s more tense than he was a moment ago, and Veronica is looking at me quizzically.
“I dunno, just different. Off,” I suggest, shrugging my shoulders. Honestly, I can’t really explain it, other than strange.
“Hard to say. I’ve lived here my whole life, after all. Is there something in particular that's bothering you?” he asks gently.
“Some of us are pretty weird,” Veronica offers helpfully. “I like to keep Archie comics tucked in my copy of Science Journal, for example.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “That’s not the kind of ‘weird’ I’m talking about. No, this is more like… a guy covered in bandages, skipping down the street. Or a feral dog-walker, or a little girl who walks around like she’s on the set of a horror movie.”
They stare at me with wide eyes, so I continue.
“Sometimes I look out at the townspeople, and I feel like I’m looking into the Uncanny Valley,” I offer by way of explanation. “Like the kids say, ‘the vibes are off.’ I just don’t get what I’m looking at sometimes, even though it feels like I should.”
“Perhaps it has more to do with you being the new kid on the block,” Chet answers, scratching the back of his neck. “Like Veronica said, some residents of Curiosity really live up to the town’s name, but no one here will hurt you,” he reassures me.
