By Lydia Kardum
The realization of defeat slammed into Marilyn like a brick wall, the physical pain of being powerless overwhelming her senses. There was absolutely nothing she could do except stare, dumbfounded, at the empty road around her. She closed her eyes and wiped the building sweat from her face and eyes, pulling at her skin with frustration.
Then, as if an angel were rising from the horizon with glowing white eyes, a pair of headlights appeared in the distance. Marilyn’s breath caught in her throat, ready to bow with reverence at the rumbling vehicle. With a rickety bounce, a high, eighteen wheel transport truck came gliding into view.
In seconds, she bounded into its path, racing down the yellow line. Hands in the air, waving like a maniac, Marilyn yelled for the driver to stop. The truck was coming from the direction Chloe should have returned; perhaps she was inside, returning safely after all! She was excited to see her friend’s familiar smirk and quirky expressions, to hear her witty and loud banter.
When only one man in his fifties, wearing nondescript jeans and t-shirt, exited the trucker’s cab alone, Marilyn’s excitement turned to intense fear. The man, who was unable to make eye contact, asked, “What’s the matter?”
She was too grateful for human contact to notice the blank expression in his eyes. “My friend went to get some gas and never came back! Do you have a working phone? Mine won’t work! And our car has been stolen! I can’t find my friend!”
“Whoa, slow down. Your friend is missing?”
“Yes! Did you see her while you were driving? She went in that direction.” She stretched her arm out, pointing at nothing in particular.
“What does she look like?”
“Blonde. She was jogging on the side of the road. She went to get gas.”
“You said that already. Now, calm down. I didn’t see a blonde jogging on the side of the road. Do you have any idea where she went?” His gaze wavered and Marilyn wondered if he might be drunk.
“The gas station three miles ahead.”
“I didn’t see no gas station. Three miles, you say?”
“Yes. Could you help me find my car?”
“I thought you said it was stolen.”
“I think it was but I’m not sure. Please? I have no idea where I am and my phone won’t work here.”
He chuckled long and hard. “Yup, cell phones are useless on this here road.”
Marilyn knew in her gut that something was off with this dude, but she ignored her instincts in favour of having company and access to a working vehicle. “How long would it take to drive to the end of Highway 49?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He pursed his lips. “Pretty long.”
“Could you drive me to the first truck stop we see? I’ll call the police from a pay phone.”
“You know… gas ain’t cheap.”
“I’ve got money.”
“Well then, I guess you can hop in.”
Resisting the urge to cry, she was painfully, intimately aware of where she should be right now: settling into her dorm at Phoenix State, calling her parents, calling her parents to say she’d arrived safely, and that they shouldn’t have worried so much in the first place. This road trip was one of many with Chloe. They were best friends for a reason. Both girls had known each other for nearly ten years.
“I’m sorry,” she started, “what’s your name?”
“Seth. Yours?”
“Marilyn.”
He wriggled his eyebrows. “As in, Monroe?”
The question caught her off guard. His expression died on his lips when he slowly realized that she had no intention of answering such a ridiculous question. A tension began to build as the silence continued.
Snap! Marilyn nearly jumped out of her skin when Seth flicked a switch on the dashboard. The music was astonishingly loud, and it filled the cab with retro tunes from the 80s, blasting from every angle, vibrating with the grumble of the engine. He flashed an inappropriate grin.
When the massive truck started moving, despite the feeling of relief flooding her veins, Marilyn could not sit back and relax. Instead, she leaned forward, paying close attention to the road, any signs that appeared between patches of yellowed, dry shrubs. They travelled in silence for nearly fifteen minutes and the Honda Civic had yet to appear. Not only was the car gone, along with the valuable stuff inside, there was seemingly no end to the road itself. The math didn’t make sense. The map she had consulted earlier indicated that an intersection with Country Road 32 should be near. According to the view, it was nowhere to be seen.
“Seth, how familiar are you with this road? Do you drive here often?”
“Damn right. Every day.”
“So… when should we encounter the next exit or intersection?”
“Oh, that’s a long ways away…”
“How far? In miles.”
“Oh… many.” He hummed along with the radio as though nothing were wrong. When he caught a glimpse of her confused expression, he smiled again. “You’re not from these parts are you?”
“No! I told you, if I knew where I was going I wouldn’t need your help. Our car broke down and my friend went for gas but never came back!” She was starting to sweat from frustration.
“That wasn’t a very good idea. Do you know how long these roads are? They go on forever.”
“But when I checked the map, we should be close to Country Road 32.”
“Didn’t you know?” He asked, eyes suddenly large and wide. “The maps lie.”
Marilyn turned to Seth, impatient and tired. She rubbed her eyes, then her neck. She didn’t know how to respond, so she said the first thing that came to mind: “What the hell are you talking about?”
Seth looked out the windshield, then back to Marilyn. He seemed confused. “These roads…” He stopped.
“Yeah?”
“These roads are very long. The people who draw maps… they have no idea this highway really is.”
She felt her patience slipping away. “Okay, you know what? I’m not playing this game anymore. I’m tired and lost. I should’ve moved into my dorm by now. I was supposed to call my mother two hours ago. Just stop with the games. You’ve totally freaked me out now, but seriously, stop it. Where is Country Road 32? And please turn off the radio!”
The truck soon filled with blissful quiet. Set let out a long, shaky sigh. He asked, “How long ago did your friend leave?” His voice was normal now, without the antics from before.
“Over five hours ago.”
“Shit.”
His reaction gave Marilyn a severe jolt of fear. “What?”
“Look, I’m going to give you some important advice and I want you to take it, okay? Forget your friend. She’s lost. Period. Do you have any idea how many times in a day I flagged down? That’s all I do. I spend my hours driving up and down this highway picking up wanderers and dropping them off at the truck stop. I thought you were a wanderer… but now it’s obvious that you’re not.” He gripped the steering wheel as though it might fall out of the dashboard. “You’re new, right?”
“New at what?”
He stared at her, gravely serious. Marilyn couldn’t read his eyes. He might as well have been speaking Greek or Italian this entire time. Obviously, this was a colossal joke, albeit a very elaborate one. But, instead of yelling and throwing stuff, which Chloe might have been inclined to do, she started to cry. Here she was, trapped in the middle of Arizona with an insane trucker, driving aimlessly down an endless highway. All she could do was cry.
“How did you end up on this road?” Seth asked.
“I don’t know. We were driving to college and…”
“Did you stop anywhere for directions?”
“Yeah. After we crossed over from California to Arizona, our cell phone signal started to give out, so we stopped for help at a gas station.”
“Which gas station?”
“You expect me to remember that? They all look the same!”
“Try to think. What was it called? Where was it?”
Seth’s odd behaviour slowly melted away to reveal frantic, nervous gestures, and wide panicked eyes. His grey hair was shoulder length and greasy, his clothes dated and unkempt. For the first time, she actually started to trust him. “Uh, I guess over by the Wilson exit. Speedy Gas? Jiffy Gas? Something like that?”
His face went white. “Do you remember what the person looked like?”
Marilyn blinked. “Are you serious? Some dude with a moustache and a pet coyote.” Again, this information had an odd effect on Seth’s expression. He grew sombre and resolute.
“Holy shit. That’s it.”
“That’s what?” Marilyn’s face felt hot and sweaty. The elements of this nightmare, like the dread of death, were spinning out of control and away from earthly, human logic.
Seth gritted his teeth. “That’s it! Highway 49 has an exit!”
Stay tuned for part 5…
