Reflections

Four

I’m the first one to see the town sign, but from the way I’m sitting in the backseat, it’s upside down. My head is almost hanging out the side window, and my legs are halfway across Cas’s lap. Claire is on his other side, and Sam is driving the Mustang.

“Alexander, North Dakota,” I exclaim. “We’re here. Finally.” Sliding back into my seat, I readjust my messy topknot.

“Finally is about right,” Dean says from up front. “Let’s find a hotel, right, Sammy?”

Sam exhales and laughs a little. “Of course, Dean.”

“What is wrong with this town?” Cas asks, peering over my shoulder. “Everything looks normal to me.”

Claire is just about to reply when a man with shaggy brown hair approaches the Mustang. He wears a mystified expression, and stares at Sam for a few minutes before saying anything. “What if soy milk,” he says slowly, like he just realized something, “is just regular milk introducing itself in Spanish?”

Sam blinks at the man, unsure of what to say. “I, uh, suppose that could be true,” he stammers.

The man doesn’t hear him. He’s already halfway down the street.

Dean leans forward, trying to get another look at the man. “Was that Keanu Reeves?” he asks.

“I don’t know who that is,” Castiel replies.

Claire turns back as well and studies the man’s retreating back. “You know what,” she says, “I think that’s him.”

“Well, this town is a bucketful of weird,” I conclude, and Sam nods.

It doesn’t get any better as we check into the hotel. The man behind the counter looks really sad for some reason, and he gives us two room keys with a sigh. “Have a great stay,” he moans. “At least you have each other.”

“I don’t know whether I should not like this place or, uh, not like this place,” Dean asserts as he unlocks one of our hotel rooms.

“It has all the amenities, Dean,” Cas replies. “We have to stay here. You know that.”

Silence falls in the hotel hallway. Claire shoots me a look, pursing her lips and widening her eyes.

A hotel cleaning worker passes us, pushing a cart full of supplies. As she nears Dean, she hands him a glass of water. “Apply cold water to burned area,” she chirps, and walks off.

Sam blinks. Dean stares at the glass in his hand.

“Yeah, I don’t like this place,” Dean finally concludes.

I look around the room. Pulling a thick curtain back, I peer into the parking lot. Aside from the strange people, the town looks relatively normal. At least, nothing threatening is happening. “What exactly is wrong with this town? Yeah, sure, things are kind of creepy, but no one has died.”

“Well, actually,” San begins, opening his laptop, “someone has died. Avery Palermo, sixteen-year-old girl. She died of hypothermia last week after allegedly dumping twenty buckets of ice water on her head.”

Claire’s eyebrows shoot up. “Twenty?”

Sam nods. “Now, it could be nothing, just a case of the civilian crazies, but something prompted me to check this out.”

“It’s the old Winchester intuition,” Dean exclaims, clapping his brother on the back. “I say we interview.”

Claire and I exchange looks, and I glance over at Castiel.