The
man refilling the hotdog machine at Burt’s Market gave me a wide, toothless
grin. What little teeth he did have were
yellowed and covered in tobacco flecks.
I
managed a semi-polite smile and went back to examining the rack of snacks. I also tugged my jean mini down to make sure
it covered my ass.
“You
think that’s Burt?” My boyfriend’s voice
was unexpectedly close to my ear making me jump.
I
elbowed him. “Jerk.”
He
sucked in air and pretended I had actually hurt him. “Watch it slugger. I think you cracked a rib.” His smile turned devilish. “Maybe we should blow this party off and get
a hotel room so you could take care of me all weekend.”
I
rolled my eyes. “We already told Nathan
and Chelsea we’d be there.”
His
strong arms came around me and hugged me to his broad chest. “Oh fine.”
He kissed my neck and I giggled.
“You always get your way Melissa.”
“Yep.”
Jimmy
and I were on a road trip from Virginia to Georgia to visit our friends for the
night. Then tomorrow we were headed out
to the beach. We stopped at a shabby gas
station on the side of a very long stretch of country highway.
“Get
the Little Debbi cakes instead of Honey Buns.”
He pointed to the row of sweets I was gazing at, his sandy blonde hair
falling in his face. He brushed it back,
revealing the extent of his dazzling blue eyes and chiseled face.
“Okay,”
I breathed, fascinated by how gorgeous he was.
“Cheetos
or Doritos…?”
Jimmy’s
voice trailed off as a sharp pain resonated above my right temple. It pulsed so hard my vision turned red then
black as if I was going pass out. It
felt like someone had struck me with a two-by-four.
“Mel? Mel?
What’s wrong?” Jimmy shook my
shoulder.
I
blinked my eyes clear to see his worried face staring down at me. The pain quickly dissipated. I reached up and touched the spot on my
forehead, my brow creasing. “Nothing,” I
said relieved it was gone. “I just had a
little headache for a second there.”
“You
sure?” His soft lips were turned in a
frown.
I
flashed him a smile. “I’m fine.” I skipped over the Fritos and plucked a bag
of Cheetos off the shelf. “Nothing to
worry about.”
After
we loaded up on snacks and drinks we hit the last leg of our trip to Mason
College. I eased back in the front seat
of Jimmy’s vintage Camaro and watched the country scenery whirl by. Hay fields turned into wheat and wheat turned
into corn stocks. The sky was a
brilliant azure and white fluffy clouds floated across.
It
was so simple and serene.
Until
that sharp pain exploded in my head again.
I gritted my teeth and pressed a hand to it as if I could shove it back
from where it came. I closed my eyes,
thinking the darkness would chase it away.
The high keen of screeching tires suddenly pierced my ears. My eyes snapped open and body alert.
“What? What’s wrong?” Jimmy asked, glancing around frantically.
I
expected to see the car careening off the road or screeching to the stop. But we were still coasting along, tranquil
and smooth as before.
I
collapsed back against the leather seat, my heart raging in my chest.
“Babe,
are you okay.”
“Yeah,”
I breathed, shaking the confusion from my brain. “I must have dozed off for a second. I thought I heard screeching tires.”
Worry
was prevalent across his handsome face.
I waved my hand dismissively.
“Really I’m fine. Just pay
attention to the road.”
He
nodded, but his hands were tight on the steering wheel.
I
twisted the cap off my soda and took a giant chug, hoping the caffeine would
keep me awake. At least the headache’s
gone, I though pulling down the visor and checking my reflection. My hazel eyes were a little dazed and face
pale.
Yuk.
I’m
gonna have to freshen up before we get there.
I reached down and pulled a brush out my purse, running it through my
snarled shoulder-length auburn hair. As
I stared in the mirror I could have sworn there was a scar above my right
temple—exactly where the pain had been—but when I blinked it was gone.
I
rubbed my finger across the smooth skin, finding no imperfections.
That
was weird. Maybe the long car ride is
getting to me.
Throngs
of people mingled at Nathan’s neighbor’s house where the party was
stationed. It was a big bash to kick off
spring break. Loads of college students
and locals turned out, chugging keg beer from red solo cups, playing drinking
games, dancing suggestively, sneaking off in corners to make out, and passing
around a leafy green substance.
Definitely a night full debauchery.
Good
Times.
Music pulsed through the downstairs of the
obvious bachelor pad complete with tacked up sheets for curtains, several beer
pyramids, and a ping pong table instead of a dining room table. It was currently being used for beer pong.
“I’m so glad you guys came,” Chelsea said
over the music as we stood in line at the keg for a refill.
“Me too.”
Chelsea
and Nathan were friends of ours from high school. We all graduated together two years ago. Now that our parents had finally released
that freshmen leash and weren’t afraid we’d forget how to live without them we
were free.
“I
miss my second closet.” She flipped her
long blonde hair to show off her purple shirt.
“When I bought this I was already thinking of trading it with something
of yours.”
We
both giggled, glad to be in each other’s company again.
After
she filled her cup it was my turn. As I
pressed the tap, shooting golden beer into my cup, a dull throb started in my
head.
Damn
it. Not now.
I
winced against it.
Chelsea
poked my arm. “Hey. You okay?”
I
nodded and dropped the nozzle. “Just a
little headache.” It was nothing
compared to the white hot sting I experienced twice before. Her expression mirrored Jimmy’s from
earlier. “Really I’m fine,” I assured
her. “But don’t tell Jimmy.”
Her
blonde brow rose.
I
shrugged. “I don’t want him to worry.”
Chelsea
nodded. She knew how overprotective he
was. “Come on. Let’s go in the garage. I think our boys are in there playing
poker.” A wry smile swept across her
face. “We better save them before they
go broke.”
I
laughed and followed her toward the door.
An odd, acrid smell swam up my nose like smoke and burning rubber.
I
hope a drunken partier wasn’t setting something on fire.
We
made it to the garage just in time to stop Jimmy from betting another twenty
dollars on a hand he could never win.
Nathan wasn’t so lucky. His
wallet looked anorexic.
Jimmy
sat the next game out while—much to Chelsea’s annoyance—Nathan tried to win his
money back.
We
all knew it was a long shot.
I
sat on Jimmy’s lap while Nathan squirmed at the table, bullets of sweat
dripping down his forehead. Breaking
glass echoed from inside and I arched my brow.
“I think there’s a fight in the house or about to be a fight,” I
whispered in Jimmy’s ear.
His
brow furrowed. “Really? What makes you think that?”
“You
didn’t hear glass breaking?”
He
shook his head.
I
shrugged it off, knowing most guys had selective hearing. Chelsea probably didn’t hear it because she
was intensely watching her boyfriend lose at poker.
The
stink of smoke and fire irritated my nose.
I rubbed it. “Do you smell that?”
“Smell
what? Shame?” Jimmy laughed, shaking me in his lap.
“No. Like smoke or fire?”
He
shook his head again. “Someone’s
probably burning around the corner.”
A
pit deep in my stomach told me that wasn’t it.
More
noises resonated from inside, but no one was reacting to them. It sounded like busting glass and metal
screeching against metal. The headache
above my right temple slowly returned, squeezing my skull.
I
gritted my teeth and tried not to flinch in Jimmy’s lap. I didn’t want him to worry.
Burning
rubber wafted through the room and heat as if a fire raged in the garage licked
at my face. Choking smoke shrank my wind
pipe. And the headache—it was like a hot
poker had been shoved through my skull into my brain.
Finally
I couldn’t take it and jumped from Jimmy’s lap.
His
blue eyes widened, worry already washing over them. “Babe.
What’s wrong?”
I
swallowed hard, attempting to focus through the pain and chaos my body was
experiencing. “Nothing,” I said hoping
he couldn’t hear the trembling in my voice.
“I-I just need to go to the bathroom.”
By
now Chelsea had noticed my unease. She
began to get up. “I’ll come with.”
I
waved my hand in the air dismissively, already walking through the door. “No.
I’ll be fine.”
People
crowded every room downstairs. There was
no sign of any fight or broken glass or fire or any reason I was hearing and
smelling the things I was. A line
stretched a mile long to the bathroom.
I
groaned and grabbed my head, the pain climaxing.
I
clumsily climbed the steps and shuffled through the hall upstairs until I found
another bathroom. I squinted against the
light and locked the door.
What
is happening to me? I thought turning on the cold water with a trembling
hand. I glanced at my reflection and
screamed.
A
giant gash was ripped above my right temple, spilling crimson down my
face. Glass shards sparkled in my hair
and embedded in my cheek.
Panic
clawed at my chest as I frantically began washing the blood off with water.
When
did this happen? How did this happen?
I
washed my cheek with cold water and picked glass out of flesh. The tiny slivers tinkled into the porcelain
sink.
Blood
continued to drip down my face and into the sink no matter how much I splashed
off. I leaned over and snatched a wad of
toilet paper to staunch the bleeding, but when I met my reflection again—it was
gone.
There
was no blood, no gash, and no cut above my right temple. The pain evaporated and the phantom smells
and sounds vanished.
It
was all just gone. Back to normal.
My
breathing was ragged and heart racing. I
touched a trembling hand to the spot the gash had been, feeling smooth,
unbroken skin.
I’m
going crazy, I thought as hot tears pooled in my hazel eyes. That’s the only explanation.
I
slept restlessly that night. After my
freak-out I went back to the garage and pretended everything was fine. Jimmy didn’t buy it. I told him I was tired from the drive. He took me back to Nathan’s and we went to
bed. My nights were full of bloody glass
and screams.
But
when morning came and the sun shone warmly across my face I felt
revitalized. Yesterday was just a weird
and crazy experience probably brought on by stress from school. That’s all.
It was spring break and today was a new day.
Jimmy
and I were back in his Camaro on the way to the beach. Chelsea and Nathan were meeting us after they
finished packing. They were supposed to
ride with us, but they’re never ready on time.
I
laughed remembering how Nathan almost missed graduation because he overslept.
“What
are you smiling about?” Jimmy playfully
nudged me.
I
shrugged. “Nothing, just thinking about
how much fun this week’s gonna be.”
Jimmy’s
blue eyes sparkled. “Oh yeah? What kind of fun did you have in mind?” He waggled his blonde eyebrows, earning him a
stern look from me. His smile only
grew. “Does this fun happen to include
skinny dipping at night in the ocean… alone?
A
giggle tumbled out my mouth. “Be a good
boy and you might find out.”
His
brows disappeared into his sandy blonde hair, intrigued. “Yes ma’am.”
His free hand suddenly squeezed mine.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Me
too.”
Jimmy
kissed the back of my hand and flashed one of those dazzling smiles that melted
my heart into a puddle.
I
really love him, I thought staring into his blue eyes. I want to marry him.
His
expression mirrored mine—a silent promise that one day we would spend the rest
of our lives together—and then it all disappeared.
Horror
melted across his face as his hand slipped from mine and he gripped the
steering wheel. Screeching tires pierced
my ears.
At
first I thought it was all in my head, but Jimmy was slamming on the breaks and
swerving to miss a car spinning out of control.
Glass shattered and metal scrapped metal…
BOOM!
Pain
exploded in my head, concentrating above my right temple and with my eyes
closed the acrid scent of burnt rubber, smoke, and fire snaked up my nose.
A
weak moan escaped my mouth as I finally pried my eyes open. The window was busted out and tiny shards of
glass were in my hair, face and lap. In
the cracked side mirror I could see a deep gash above my left temple, spilling
crimson down my face.
Ice
descended down my back and my nerves trembled.
I was having visions of the car accident yesterday.
This
explains everything—the sound of glass shattering, the pain in my head, the
screeching tires, the smoke, and fire.
It
was exactly the same.
A
warm hand suddenly gripped my cold one.
“Mel? Mel? You okay?”
Jimmy’s shaky voice slammed me back to reality.
Panic
seized my chest as I turned toward him.
“Jimmy?”
“I’m
okay.”
His
blue eyes were dazed, but there was no blood—not that I could see. Relief washed over me.
“That
looks bad.” He leaned over, grimacing, and
tenderly touched my head.
I
winced. “It’s fine. Nothing life threatening.”
He
nodded. “Let’s get out of here.”
I
pulled on the handle, but my door wouldn’t budge. “It’s stuck.”
Jimmy
leaned over to take a look the moment I heard a second set of screeching
tires—only this time louder.
My
eyes slowly rose and saw the massive eighteen-wheeler skidding toward us, smoke
spewing out as the breaks bore down.
A
quiet calm settled over me.
There
was no time.
This
was it.
This
was the end.
BOOM!
Blackness
engulfed everything.
The
man refilling the hotdog machine gave me a wide, toothless grin. What little teeth he did have were yellowed
and covered in tobacco flecks.
I
blinked, confused. Where was I?
Florescent
lights buzzed above and the tinkling of the bell over the door signaled another
customer entering the country convenient store.
“You
think that’s Burt?” Jimmy’s voice spun
me around and I clutched his bicep.
“What’s
going on?”
He
sucked in air. “Watch it slugger.” His smile turned devilish. “Maybe we should blow this party off and get
a hotel room all week.”
“Party? What?
We already went to the party.”
Jimmy’s
expression turned skeptical. “What are
you talking about? You feeling okay?” He pressed his hand to my forehead to check
for a fever.
Oh
God. My forehead—above my left temple.
In
horrifying techno color it all came rushing back—ending with the car accident
that killed us.
Dizziness
engulfed me and I leaned against the rack of junk food. This can’t be happening.
We
were dead. Dead.
“Mel? Maybe you should eat something.” He reached over and plucked something off the
shelf, crinkling plastic loudly. “Have a
little Debbie Cake.”
“Don’t
you remember the accident?” I asked, my voice thick with emotion.
Concern
deepened the lines in his forehead.
“Melissa, what accident?”
Horror
gripped my insides. I hadn’t been having
a premonition—they were memories.
How
many times have we lived these last two days, dying in the end each time? How many times had we forgotten?
Jimmy
rubbed my shoulder. “Let’s just get back
on the road, okay Mel?”
I
nodded, staring unseeing at the dirty wood floor.
“Cheetos
or Fritos?”
“Cheetos,”
I said numbly, following him to the register that we could have been at five or
five hundred times before.
No comments:
Post a Comment