I spy

"I spy with my little eye something red,"

Alice's chocolate eyes dance as they catch mine in the rear vision mirror, her strawberry blonde hair blowing about wildly in the wind from the open back seat window. We stop at a crowded intersection, the traffic boxing us in on every side.

"Hmmm…." I wonder aloud. 

I can't remember the last time this car was cleaned. It's old and musty on the outside, and the boot is stuffed full of whatever. We crammed anything else we could fit into the spare seats, and Alice is squashed a large fraying duffel bag, her arms wrapped tight around a small stuffed polar bear.

"Could it be… the red light?"

"No, Mummy,"

I look around. The late afternoon sun casts a sleepy glow over the sea of cars at the intersection. The street is lined with rundown shops and shabby cafés, but there is something homely about the hum of chatter and the familiar smell of woodfire in the warm air.

"Is it… the post box?"

"No."

A family of five wander along the side of the road. A woman holds two young boys' hands, straining as they tug and pull, skipping along the sidewalk. Beside her, a girl no older than three is sitter on her father's shoulder, laughing her head off, for no apparent reason. The father looks at the woman, and smiles, his eyes glowing. She doesn't see him. The woman isn't pretty in an obvious sort of way, but beautiful in a deep, intense sort of way, like one of those rare people who are just as beautiful on the inside as they pretend to be on the outside. She reminds me of my mother, beautiful but vulnerable. She wears a red hat. 

"That woman's hat?"

"No."

"My jumper?"

I'm wearing a knit woollen jumper the colour of apples. One of the cheap sorts that you can get at a discount shop for ten dollars. It's scratchy and stiff and clings to my sweaty skin, but it the worn piece of fabric was there for me when nobody else was. When I was cold and lost it was all I had. So I brought it. After all, it was all I could find in my haste. I can feel beads of perspiration drip down my neck and back and shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"No,"

"Ahh.. You're too clever Alice! I give up,"

"It's that car, Mummy," she point to a car on our right. A shiny red Volkswagen Golf. I had a car just like it, once. Blue, but just as shiny. It was my first, in fact. The sight still gives me a little burst of pride and I sit up a little taller. I was the first of my siblings to buy my own car, and as far as I know the last. I can still remember coming back from the car dealer, pulling up at my old rundown little house. I can still remember the look of my mother's face, sitting on the steps, my father's cruel arm slung drunkenly around her shoulder. She never cried in front of me, but her eyes glistened that day, with a sad sort of pride. Because I had done what she couldn't. I remember speeding out of town, blasting music into the night. I remember the exhilaration of a freedom I no longer have. The freedom of a time when my life was still my own.

I look away, fighting tears . My life is my own, I tell my myself. I am no longer ensnared by the vines of his words. He is gone from my life, and I am free.   

I merge onto the highway. Fifteen minutes later we are out of the city, the road ahead of us winding through the pink and orange of gum trees glowing in the fading light. Fields and pastures sprawl out as far as the eye can see. The golden glow of the sun is slowly dipping beneath the rolling hills. The cars are getting further and fewer between. Alice points out cows and sheep and goats as we drive by. She even spots a donkey.

I take a deep breath and every muscle in my body relaxes in an internal sigh of relief. My shoulders slump, my face softens, the butterflies in my stomach die out. It is just Alice and I out here. Us against the world. And we are free. 

Before long, darkness has fallen, and tiny pinpricks of light appear in the sky. Stars. So many of them, lighting up the sky in a bright and colourful array, like fireworks. I've missed this. I've missed the smell of gumtrees in the wind, the open plains, the stars.

He had stars in his eyes when I met him. It was mid July, and a biting wind swept through the streets, a carpet of red and brown crunching underfoot. I had been out drinking with friends, and we were down at the park, slouched on a bench and giggling like schoolgirls. The world was bright lights bobbing around in the dark. Until I saw him. I'm not sure where my friends went, but suddenly I was sitting alone with on the bench, shivering in my tiny black cocktail dress, and he was wrapping his jacket around me. His voice was soothing, gentle. His eye were icy blue but warm in a way I can't describe. I felt safe. I fell into his arms just like that. And he never let me go.

Until now.

Alice is getting hungry and restless.

"Hush, little one," I reassure her, "Not much longer now."

She sighs dramatically.

"I spy with my little eye something white," I try.

She looks around, sleepily.

"My blanket?"

The air conditioner is long broken, and the night has grown cold, sucking the heat from every corner of the car. Alice is wearing my red jumper and has a thin white blanket wrapped tightly around her. It was the best I could do without unloading the whole trunk to fish out more clothes. I'm beginning to shiver.

"No…" I say.

Her brow furrows in thought.

"Is it… your pearls?"

I finger the chain of little white pearls that hangs loosely under my neck, tucked under my shirt but just visible at the back. They are soft. Cold to the touch. I didn't have time to take them off when I left. He gave them to me when we moved in together. Said they matched my pale, ghostly complexion. I loved them. I loved the way they made me feel close to him all the time, like his arms were wrapped around me. He bought me many necklaces, silver, gold, platinum. I don't know how he afforded them. He kept me wanting more. But the pearls were his favourites, so they never left my sight, slowly tightening around my neck, until I could no longer breath.

My throat constricts at the thought and I hurriedly unclasp the chain and let the pearls cascade onto my lap.  

"No, sweetie," I can't quite keep the tremor from my voice.

I have a sudden urge to hurl the pearls out the window, but instead I toss them onto the passenger seat. I might be able to sell them, and heaven knows I need the money. Moments pass in silence but for the rumble of the engine and the whisper of the wind outside. Suddenly, I hear Alice gasp in the back seat.

"Ooooh, is it Blue?"

Even in the dark, the little polar bear clutched against her chest seems to glow bright white. It's face has a warm, friendly, expression that Alice fell in love with the moment she set eyes on him last year. Blue comes everywhere with Alice. He is her friend when she's alone, her hug when she gets scared. He's there for her when I am not. He's there when I can't be.

"Sorry, Honey, not quite."  

She huffs and rubs her eyes sleepily.

"Mummy, there's nothing white, it's so dark right now…" she whines. 

Despite the stormy look on her face, I smile, meeting her eye in the mirror.

"Of course there is… just look up Alice - it's bright as ever up there,"

She glances up and her mouth forms a little O as she drinks in the twinkling bright of the sky.

"THE STARS!" she squeals in delight.

"Yes!"

"It's so pretty out there, Mummy," she whispers in awe, "Not like home,"

"That's because the sky is so clear out here, Alice. You can see everything!"

"My turn!"

"Go ahead," I smile. 

"I spy with my little eye… "

She glances around.

"Something yellow."

It's so dark I can barely make out our surroundings anymore, the fields now black as night and the trees turned to swirling shadows.

"That sign?"

Our headlights catch a yellow sign ahead. ROAD ENDS. I do a double take. What in the world? I glance at the GPS. The little blue dot that is our car is travelling steadily along the green line that snakes out ahead of us. I look around in confusion but can't make out a thing in the darkness but for the never-ending dusty asphalt road stretching out ahead of us. Perhaps the GPS hasn't updated, our car is practically ancient after all. I will have to turn around at the end of the road and head back to the last fork.

"No," Alice says, blissfully unaware of our predicament. I decide it's best to keep it that way. 

I notice her looking to the front of the car.

"The line on the road?"

I'm running out of ideas and my mind is only half listening.

"I spy something very bright," she says smugly.

"The stars?"

"Silly Mummy,"

"Hey!"

She giggles and I glance at her in my rear vision mirror.

It's then that I see them. Two big yellow lights, slowing growing, approaching us. Perhaps they know where we are.

"How about hose headlights?"

"Yes mummy, you got it!" 

I check my mirror again. The yellow lights are growing, bobbing along like disconnected lanterns in the blackness, temporarily blinding me. The car is gaining on us. I can almost make it out it the shadows.

"I spy something red," Alice says suddenly.

"Again?"

Then I see it too.

The car has caught up with us now. And it's red. Familiar. My stomach drops. 

"Alice, is it… is it that car?"

My voice shakes a little.

"Yes, Mummy, just like before!" she squeals.

Just like before. A coincidence - it must be. But there's no denying it. A red Volkswagen Golf. It's the same one from two hours ago. No. It can't be. Terror runs through me like a cold rush. Time stops. I am frozen. I can't move. I can't breathe.

His features are obscured by shadow, but I can just make out the driver's face now. The stars have fled from his eyes, replaced by ice cold fury.

I feel his cold fingers close around my throat.