I Can't Stop

Hedy peered into the rear-view mirror; she could have sworn that wrinkle was not there seconds ago. She spends a small fortune to always look 10 years younger. Her forehead looked like a veritable rock strata, perhaps it was time to schedule another appointment with Dr. Navejureet. Hedy’s horror magnified when she saw the hands grasping the steering wheel, barely convinced they were hers. They were far more wrinkled than they should be, as if they were soaked in water for hours.

Hedy sped up as the red light turn green before she reached the junction. She saw enough to determine it an emergency. Hedy decided to redirect to Dr. Navejureet’s clinic immediately, her divorce proceedings could wait. It was then she noticed the wrinkles on her hands had receded, and the lines on her face were less prominent too. She briefly closed her eyes and shook her head to clear it. Hedy cycled through the possible culprits for what she was seeing, a lack of sleep? Alcohol? It was only one glass of wine at lunch. She opened her eyes and checked the rear-view mirror again.

She looked younger. Hedy felt a shot of glee, forgetting how illogical it was for a moment. The feeling soon gave way to concern, her eyes were definitely betraying her, even Dr. Navejureet was not that good. She decided she was in no condition to continue driving. She slowed the car and was about to stop along the side of the road when she saw her complexion change again.

This time, grey streaks formed rapidly along the side and fringe of her hair. Like silver dye, it ran from the root to the tip of each strand. Hedy felt her body stiffened and ached, as if her muscles had suddenly been forced to contract. An icy ache filled the bones and joints in her fingers, and in every bone for that matter. A panicked Hedy swerved off the side of the road. Forget the clinic, she needed a hospital.

Then just as rapidly as it happened, the aches and chills stopped. She checked the rear-view mirror; the wrinkles and grey hair were gone too. As crazy as it sounded, she could literally feel the vitality returning to her body. Indulging her instincts, Hedy sped up her car. She glanced back at the rear-view mirror and came to an impossible conclusion; the speed of her car was affecting her age, or at least how old she looked.

Hedy took the car on a steady cruise and examined the rear-view mirror again. She was right, her complexion remained as it was! It was like a photograph of her youth, the days where she would grace the cover of magazines and headline movies. The days when she was the darling of the 90s, a time she thought had long passed.  

Hedy could not help but chuckle, even she would not have thought to pray for this. She briefly entertained the myriad reasons that could have caused what was happening before realizing she really did not care. She read lines for a living, what would it matter why, whether it was magic or science? Just as she was only concerned with what Dr. Navejureet can do, and not how he did it.

Then it hit upon her, would she look younger if she sped up further? Would it cause her to become younger or simply look younger? Again, a distinction she realized hardly mattered. Hedy pressed down on the pedal and eagerly monitored the speedometer and rear-view mirror. She could see no reason to slow down or stop now, that is until she hit one.

Hedy spied the man in the corner of her eye but was too late. That she managed to swerve off slightly was a miracle itself, but the man was clipped by the right front headlights. The bump slowed Hedy’s car briefly. She eyed the rear-view mirror to check on the poor gentleman she hit, and how much she aged in that moment. In the growing distance, she saw a few pedestrians moved towards him to help as he gradually stood up. Hedy sighed in relief; he was fine. Before her inner voice could judge her, Hedy reasoned that she could not have stopped. If slowing down caused her to age rapidly, a complete stop might kill her. Of course, she would have done things differently if the man was seriously injured.

The incident did bring a new, albeit obvious, concern to her attention though. How was she supposed to not stop driving? Her attention was now firmly on the lookout for pedestrians while the number of cars on the road were greatly reduced thanks to the pandemic. But she was driving in the city, it was impossible to go a few minutes without hitting upon a traffic stop. Her luck on green lights in her favor would not hold out indefinitely. She could run a red light and worry about the fines later but running a string of them was unlikely to go unnoticed. The only solution was to drive outside the city, where Hedy could drive uninterrupted along the long roads in the countryside. She rerouted her car’s navigation for the shortest way out of the city.

The route was perhaps the most harrowing ten minutes of her life, she had not felt such pressure since the audition for her very first movie, The Casbah. To avoid coming to a complete stop or needing to run a red light, Hedy had to speed up and slow down to match the traffic light transitions. The visible aging effects in the rear-view mirror soon became too traumatic that she ceased to track them. Needless to say, her erratic driving managed to illicit angry honks from the few cars around. Thankfully Hedy had considerable years of experience on ignoring critics.

It was the final traffic stop in the outer limits of the city; Hedy never thought the sight of the open country would excite her so. The eagerness of the impending escape from her urban prison got the better of her when she decided to plow through her final red light. Hedy was instantly rewarded with a black and white vehicle in her tail, flashing its signature blue and red lights.   

Under normal circumstances, Hedy’s response was pretty straightforward. Instead, she found herself contemplating the few options, however bad, she had. Hedy could maneuver the car alongside the police car, wind down her window and yell, “I can’t stop!” All the while maintaining a reasonable speed, and by reasonable, she meant one that kept the aging in check. She could then explain that her brakes stopped working. But she quickly dismissed the thought. They would likely misinterpret the situation as she wanted to stop but could not.

Hedy’s situation compounded when she noticed her fuel gauge flirting closely with the E sign. She felt a brief moment of embarrassment that the flaw in her original plan only occurred to her then. It seemed once again reality was about to rob her of what she wanted. Hedy consoled herself perhaps it would be like a peaceful drift into eternal sleep. Besides, she was never keen on aging the traditional way, and there was scarcely anything in her life she wanted to go back to.

Hedy was about to switch her foot on the pedals when she had an epiphany. What if she sped up fast enough that when she came to a stop, she did not age as much? It might be enough to save her life, and perhaps even shave a few years off. Hedy marveled at how ridiculous it was to make such calculations, but what else could she have done? She took a breath, renewed her grip on the steering wheels and pushed down on the accelerator.

The police officer stepped out of his car and walked to Hedy’s after she finally pulled over.

“I’m sorry officer, was I going too fast?” Hedy chirped and flashed him a smile.

“I’m afraid so. Wait, you’re her, aren’t you?” the visibly star-struck officer replied.

Hedy battered her eyes in puzzlement.

“Yes! You are that actress in The Casbah!” The police officer spoke as if he had forgotten about his job before composing himself again.

“Anyway, I’m sorry I’ll have to write you a ticket, Ms. Hedy.”

“Of course. Actually, could you do me a favor and call for a tow truck? The car’s been giving some problems, I think I’ll just take the bus back.” Hedy said.

“Sure, Ms. Hedy. This is a nice car by the way, can’t say I’ve seen this model before. You stars must have access to exclusive models or something.”

Hedy smiled and nodded politely; she was actually thoroughly confused by the questions, but she was equally uninterested in entertaining them any longer than she had to. After she boarded a bus back to the city, Hedy retrieved a small pocket mirror and held it up to her face, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She caught sight of the news headlines held up by the passenger opposite her, narrowing her attention to the date; July 15, 1995. Not the strangest thing she had seen that day, nor the worse.