Cruel, Cruel Irony

I watch in almost comedic slow-motion as the black cat’s head turns slowly towards me. He stands at the leftmost edge of the dark street I’m currently walking down. 

I stop in my tracks. 

“Don’t you dare.”

The cat cocks its head at me. Mockingly. 

“Don’t do it. Please.”

He doesn’t break eye contact as he struts across my path, stopping at the other end of the road. He sits, lifts a paw, and begins to clean himself. I groan. 

I begrudgingly begin to make my way down the road again, sealing my fate. I’ll have to research how to reverse bad luck later tonight. 

I continue down the dark, damp road, shivering when I notice the chill in the air and the way the old streetlights have flickered on. The yellow light they’re casting gives the scene an eerie glow, and I wrap my arms around my torso, holding my sweater together. 

My shoes are muddy, and my toes squish around in the water soaking my socks. 

The car is a welcome sight, and I climb into it eagerly, desperate to turn on the AC and take off my ruined shoes. Once my doors are locked and my chilled skin is beginning to thaw in the warm air, I turn out of the back road, heading back the way I came in. I can’t help but watch the yellow lights lining the worn street. I can’t stop thinking about how surreal this moment feels, here, in the mist-covered mountains, utterly alone in my rented car. It’s like a movie I would've loved to watch with my dad. 

I make it a quarter of the way back to the hotel I’m staying at before my ringtone fills the car. I answer. My mother greets me, making sure I’m alive and well after my trek into the mountains. 

“I’m fine, Mom. I can’t say the same for those Nikes you bought me for Christmas last year though.”

She groans. “Why I bother buying you white shoes is beyond me. How was the hike? Have you discovered the meaning of life yet?”

“Har, har. Very funny. Hilarious, actually. Have you ever considered a career in comedy?”

She laughs. “Of course I have. The only thing holding me back is the luxurious life of being a teacher. I just make too much money, ya know?”

“Ah, yes. You must be drowning in cash.”

“Of course. Now answer my initial question.”

I sigh, turning the knob down on the heat in the car now that my feet have sufficiently toasted. “The hike was beautiful. Cold, and muddy, but beautiful. As for the second question, I’ve decided the meaning of life is cruel, cruel irony.”

“Irony?”

“I had a literal black cat cross my path.”

She busts out laughing, and I can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “Oh honey, you had bad luck before that cat. Maybe it can work as a reverse?”

“Hm, let’s hope. How’s Dad?”

The line is quiet for a minute. I hear her inhale, then say, “You know how he gets.”

I nod before I remember she can’t see me. “I do, yeah.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle. Don’t worry about it. No stress trip, remember?”

“Trying to, yes. Let me know if I need to come home, okay?”

“You won’t need too, darling. Look, I wouldn’t have told you to go if I thought you needed to stay, okay?”

She must hear the hesitation in my voice as I say, “Okay.” because she responds with a quick, “Well, I’ll let you focus on getting home safe. Call you tomorrow? Love you!”

“Yeah, sure. I love you too!”

The call ends, and the rush of the tires on the wet concrete is the only sound in the car again. I reach for the radio button on the dash, and just before my fingers reach the plastic, my phone rings through the Bluetooth again. 

I answer without checking the caller ID, knowing it’s Mom calling to tell me the weather for tomorrow and to wear those boots, the ones with the rubber soles, it’s going to rain tomorrow, darling.

“Mom, I’ve checked the Weather app, and I- .”

“Pull over.”

Goose flesh raises on my forearms as my father’s scratchy voice echoes through the car. 

“What? Dad, where’s Mom? Are you okay?”

“Pull over. Right now. Do it now.” 

It’s dark and wet and I don’t know where I am. There’s no way in hell I’m pulling over. 

I sigh. “Dad, I need you to sit down for me. Okay? Sit down, and wait for Mom- “

“Allie,” he pants my name into the phone. “Pull over. Pull over. Pull OVER PULL OVER PULL OVER-”

“Okay! Okay!” My hands are shaking as I slam my hazards button down and swerve onto the shoulder of the road. 

He looses a long, breathy sigh into the phone. It’s an open-mouthed hahhh, and the hair on the back of my neck raises. 

“Dad, I pulled over. What’s wrong?” 

He chuckles. It sounds wrong. “Good, Allie. Good. Very good.”

“Is Mom there? Can you put her on the phone please?”

“No. She’s not here.”

“Where is she?”

“Stay on that shoulder, Allie, and watch that big tree to your right.”

I shift my eyes to the right, landing on a big, mossy tree. The car is silent, save for my shaky breaths and the click-click of my hazards. 

“Dad, can you tell me what’s going on? I have to get back to the hotel- “

“Goodbye,” he rasps, and the call dies. 

I exhale, fast and harsh. I breath in slow, breath out slow. In. Out. In. Out. I reach for my hazards button again, deciding to leave, and two loud, slow knocks on my passenger side window stop me. My fingers freeze midair. 

There’s a man, standing at my window, smiling. 

It’s a casual enough smile, friendly. His hands are tucked into his jean pockets, and he stands in an unassuming enough position, feet apart, shoulders relaxed. The look on my face must scream terrified, because he cocks his head to the right. The goose flesh raises again as I’m reminded of the cat. 

He gestures for me to roll my window down, and I crack it open an inch. 

“Hello!” He states cheerily. 

I must still look confused, or terrified, or both because he cocks his head the other direction. The movement is wrong, too fast and too jerky. 

“My car is stuck in mud, and I can’t get it out by myself. Would you mind helping me?” His grin inches upwards. 

I shake my head, snapping back into myself. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not sure how I could help. I wish you luck, though.”

I start to roll my window back up, and he throws his fingers into the space between the window and the door. His pinky finger pops. 

“Please, you’ve gotta help! I’ll push the car, and you drive from inside.”

I’m slowly coming to the conclusion that I need to leave, and fast. “I’m sorry, sir, my friends are waiting for me. I need to go. Good luck!” I offer him a chaste smile, hoping he’ll take the hint. 

His fingers remain squished in my window. 

“Sir, please watch your fingers.”

He chuckles, and I’m reminded of my father’s laugh on the phone- all wrong. “Oh, but you have to help.”

My phone rings, and I’m begging to God or any higher power there is that Mom is actually calling about the damn weather. 

I click off the Bluetooth and bring the phone up to my ear. The man’s smile is frozen on his face. 

“Hello?” Now it’s my voice that sounds all wrong, all high-pitched and quivering. 

“Allie? Allie?” The rasp from before is gone, but panic laces his voice. 

“Dad?”

“Allie? Leave right now, sweetie. Turn back onto the road and don’t look back. Don’t answer the phone again until you get to the hotel. If the man with the raspy voice calls again, and you answer…you can’t. You can’t. You can’t you can’t you can’t you can’t you- .”

He trails off in a feverish tone. My eyes drift back to the man with his fingers in my window. He blinks. 

“Okay, dad. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“You can’t you can’t you can’t you- .“

I press End Call. 

The corners of my mouth drift up in a mockery of the stranger’s smile. “I’ll come help. I have a minute to spare.”

He blows air out of one corner of his mouth. “Phew! Thought I was gonna have to do some more convincing.”

As he pulls his fingers out of my window, I notice the dirt caked under his nails. 

He steps back from the car. I click off my hazards. I slip one last look his way before throwing the car into drive and swerving back onto the main road. My tires screech on the slick roads and I have never felt my heart beat this fast before. 

In my rearview mirror, I can see the man’s smile drop completely off his face. He lowers slowly down to his haunches.

“Oh god oh god oh god,” I’m yelling now, completely panicking. I watch as he runs forwards on his hands and knees, turning towards that big, mossy tree and scrambling up the thick trunk. 

I focus my eyes on the road again, and my phone rings. It rings and rings and rings, and I don’t stop. 

I pull into the hotel parking lot, still breathing heavy. My heart is pounding out of my chest, and my phone rings again. I dare to read the caller ID, and almost cry when I see Mom on the glowing screen. I hit answer. 

“Oh god, Mom, I can’t…is Dad okay? I just talked to him, he’s not himself, and Mom I swear I almost died and please go check on Dad- .”

“Allie.” The rasp in his voice slithers into my ears, and settles in my bones. 

“Oh, no, God no- .”

“Goodbye.”

The call ends.