Bad trip

“I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Pat said, filtering in a nervous little giggle to underscore the moment. No point in allowing her travel companion to see how much the worry had already begun to invade her thoughts like a tangled, sly creeper working its way up the trunk of an old tree. She wasn’t usually such a Negative Nellie but people were given instincts for a reason, weren’t they, and right now her stomach was doing a two-step. Then again, she might just be hungry.

Pat fished around behind her car seat, feeling for the small box of cherry cake slices she’d bought earlier in the day. When she couldn’t place her hand on it, she gave up and returned her gaze out the passenger side window at the dark, ghoulish clawed limbs of twisted trees reaching out from the edge of the road instead. She wiped the window with a sweep of her sleeve but it made no difference. The glass remained dry and clear on the inside of the vehicle.

“You’re still not saying anything, Brenda,” she said. “I made a joke from The Wizard of Oz and you didn’t react. It was pretty funny even if I do say so myself. You may not have heard. I said, Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” She let out another nervous giggle.

“I’m concentrating on the road.”

“You’re female; surely you can hold a conversation and concentrate on the driving at the same time? And besides, can you even see the road? I can’t. The fog is so …”

“Thick.”

Pat looked across at her friend, checking to make sure Brenda wasn’t implying it was she who was thick. Sometimes she couldn’t tell with Brenda. But Brenda’s body language answered that question. She’d gone from her former stiffly proper posture to leaning over the steering wheel, straining to see through the thick mist ahead of their little black rental car. She really was focused on the driving.

As the low afternoon sun had given way to lengthier shadows and then darkening skies, the ladies had agreed they would be much later checking into the overnight accommodation than they’d initially expected to be. Perhaps they shouldn’t have detoured to the ‘Cactus Gardens Wonderland’ or wasted so much time meandering through the Wonderland’s gift outlet and coffee shop, but hey, what’s a holiday if you can’t do a little impulse sightseeing? This fog, though, was an additional delay they could well have done without.

Pat wriggled in her seat. “Do you think we ought to pull over? I feel we should pull over.”

“To do what, exactly? Ask directions from all of these hundreds of other travellers on the road?” Brenda said, flicking the open palm of her hand at the windscreen.

“But there aren’t any cars. We’re the only …  Oh, right. Yes, sarcasm. I see. Always helpful in worrying situations.”

“I’m not worried at all. I just need to work out where we are, that’s all.”

“So, you admit it! You said we weren’t lost but now you’re telling me we definitely are. Is that what you’re saying, Brenda?”

 “One is only lost when one doesn’t know where one is, my dear friend.”

“And do one … er, do we … know where we are, Brenda?

“Well, we know where we’re not. And we know where we should probably be, and I imagine we’re somewhere in the middle of the two. Better eyesight would certainly help, though. I don’t like driving at night, and I certainly don’t like driving in fog.”

“Oh, it’s a creepy old road. All these dead old trees … do you think we took the correct turn?”

“If I knew that for sure, Pat, I wouldn’t be wondering where we are. I’ll be very pleased to get to the motel. Or even to pass another vehicle.”

The dull hum of the wheels on bitumen beneath them invaded the silence between the women for another few kilometres before Pat broke the silence again, “I do hate to be a nag, Brenda, because I know how you wish to keep on, but I really do think we should pull over soon. I feel it would be safer to park somewhere at the side of the road. You know, until this fog clears.”

“I disagree. We’re already quite late to check in so it will be best if we keep moving. The motel owners will give up on us if we’re too much later. That is, if they haven’t already given our room away. But I’m afraid we’re not making much headway because I’m having to drive quite slowly. I can’t see two feet in front of us.”

“Hmmm,” said Pat, and stared out the side window again.”

Brenda was anxious but not for the same reasons as her worried passenger. Pat was thinking ghouls and ghosts, whereas Brenda was craving a bed for the night. “It’s all right, we’re sure to see a road sign shortly.”

Pat wriggled in her seat. She opened the glove compartment searching for a non-existent map. Of course, everything was GPS and mobile phones and all sorts of other modern technology these days. She looked across at Brenda who continued to frown behind her spectacles, glaring into the middle distance of the white and grey wall of thick mist that lay directly ahead. She felt behind her for the little cake box again but still couldn’t locate it. She wriggled in her seat again.

“Brenda, I’m sorry to put a needle in your haystack … is that the saying? … but unfortunately, I need the bathroom.”

“What?”

“The bathroom. Very soon. Too much coffee.”

“Oh, well why on earth didn’t you say so? Good grief, Pat, didn’t you go at the Cactus place before we left? I told you to go at the Cactus place.”

“I didn’t need to go then. I need to go now.”

Brenda grimaced, decreasing her already slow pace until she steered the vehicle to a stop at the side of the road, wherein Pat flung open the door and took in a lungful of the chilly air outside.

“Thank you, Brenda. I promise I’ll be quick sticks. You’ll hardly know I was gone. I’ll be —”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Pat, stop your babbling and just go already!”

Long twisted branches wrapped in haze, reached out across the wet black road. Twigs bent and snapped under Pat’s feet as she stepped into the darkness away from the road’s edge, the leaves and bracken, damp and soft underfoot.

“Don’t go wandering too far from the car, Pat! Nobody can see you, anyway, and I’m certainly not looking. Do your business and get back here quick smart so we can get on.”

“Aye aye.”

But for the occasional chirping cricket, silence pervaded the frigid night air.

“Brenda?”

“Yes?”

“Can you whistle?”

“Pardon me?”

“Or hum a little tune or something? Just so I know you’re still there. I’m afraid my nerves have got the better of me. These horrid trees are making me see all sorts of shapes.”

Brenda sighed, and started la-la-la-ing into the misty surrounds. She wrapped her arms about herself and walked up and down on the spot to get the blood flowing back into her veiny old legs. She wished Pat would hurry back so they could get out of here.

Unlike Pat, she wasn’t prone to bouts of over-imagination but this truly was an isolated stretch of road and they’d been on it for over an hour without seeing so much as another vehicle. All she could do to keep her spirits up was to console herself that the break from being behind the wheel was a timely forced rest to help clear her head.

“BRENDAAAA!”

“Yes I’m still here. La la la la la…”

Pat came charging out of the trees, arms windmilling crazily as she scrambled, crashing her way through the undergrowth as though her pants were on fire, her face as pale as the very swirling mist she emerged from.

“Good heaven’s woman, I’m just here. Where would you think I’d go, you silly old fool.”

Pat’s mouth gaped open reminding Brenda of a floundering carp that had beached itself on a riverbank. When Pat reached the car, she leaned one elbow on the hood desperately sucking in great gasps of air, and pointing frantically back toward the area from which she’d run.

“There … pant … back there … gasp … it’s … there’s a … “

“There’s a what, Pat? There’s a what?”

“It’s a body! It’s a dead body. Oohhh-aaaahhhh ….” She started sobbing then; great howling gales of dread mixed with choking wheezes. “Aaagh, I saw it, I saw it. A dead body in the woods. I saw a dead body!”

Brenda, accustomed to her friend’s usual nervy, attention-seeking dramatics did her best to placate the distraught woman. “There, there,” she said, making a show of tentatively patting her on the back. “I’m sure the spooky old trees have just got the better of you, that’s all. We’ve had a big day, it’s late, we’re tired and we’re seeing things.” 

At that, Pat stood to attention and scowled at Brenda, her chaotic breathing completely forgotten. “We’re not seeing things, I’m seeing things. I tell you I saw a dead body, Brenda, and I did. It was right there, all dirty and half buried in the muck and leaves.” She pointed a shaky hand back at the bushes beyond the edge of the road again.

They really needed to get back in the car and drive until they got to the motel, or at the very least, somewhere with street lights and people. Pat was obviously even more exhausted and in need of a rest than Brenda. They could both do with a hearty meal and a deep restorative sleep. The long hours of driving in this awful fog not knowing if they were on the right road or not, was taking its toll and Pat being hysterical wasn’t helping the situation one little bit. Clearly, as the only one of them that now had enough reserves left in their mental tank, Brenda would have to be the one to take control of the situation and get them out of here.

“Right, well come on, then. Where is this body? You’d better show me.”

“I’m not g..going back over there! I can’t face it again. It’s awwwwful. Please don’t make me see it again.”

“But you must, Pat. You must show me so we can decide what to do next. If there really is a body—"

“There is! It’s a real live dead person!”

“Fine, in which case I’ll need to see it for myself and assuming it is, as you say, an actual body and not just some lumpy ground with random bits of debris and dead grass, then we should mark the road in some way so that we can direct the police here in the light of day.”  

“And Pat,” added Brenda peering into the back seat of the car to check if her tattered red cardigan was there; it would make do for a road marker if it turned out they needed one, “I would like you stop and think about this, and I mean really think about it clearly and logically. I ask you to bear in mind what the chances are that of all the many, many places there are along this very, very long road, behind these many, many trees in the middle of absolutely nowhere, miles from anything, that the one place we pull over, the one small little spot after hours of driving that you decide you need to relieve yourself in the bushes, that it turns out to be the exact same location where someone has seemingly come to a sticky end?”

“But I saw its hand, Brenda,” said Pat beginning to sob again, “and a bit of its horrible dead face. It had black hair … gasp … and a scary, frightening eye staring at me out from the dirt where the … hic … where the killer buried them.”

“All right, lead me to this dead body then. Let’s get it over and done with.”

Pat whispered again. “But what if the killer comes back? What if he’s watching us right at this very minute? He might find us here and kill us, too! We might never be found, Brenda, because nobody knows we’re on this road, and it’s such a long and isolated one.”

“Don’t worry about that, Pat, the next couple of elderly ladies to come chugging along in their hire car will stop for a pee and they’ll find us half buried in the undergrowth.” She stifled a chuckle. Honestly, the quicker they investigated Pat’s claim of seeing a body, the quicker they could discount it as a figment of her overactive imagination and get back to the journey. She was exhausted and craving a bed for the night.

Pat took Brenda’s arm, leaning heavily on her as she stepped carefully away from the road’s edge and back onto the soft grassy vegetation beneath the trees. Slowly they made their way in the dark a few metres into the dew-covered bushes across uneven ground. “Look! Right here! What’d I tell you?” Pat whimpered.

Brenda adjusted her glasses further up her nose. She squinted into the dark at the wet mushy earth where a face covered in matted coarse hair, half buried, stared back at them. Long, smooth fingers poked out of the ground not far from the face.

“Oh, we have to get away from here!” begged Pat. “We ought not to be here with a killer on the loose. Killers always return to the scene of the crime on foggy cold nights.”

Rather than retreating, though, Brenda made to move closer, wherein Pat let go of her arm and stumbled backwards. “Don’t go near it. We need to go. Now!”

At that, Brenda reached down to touch its hand and grabbed for the fingers. The arm released its grip on the muddy earth and Brenda found herself holding just a hand.

“Aaaagh! What on earth are you doing? Throw it back!” Pat stumbled backwards, then turning, raced away from the body and out onto the road. Brenda followed closely behind, still holding the hand in her own.

“Look Pat,” she said, holding the hand out to her.

“Nooooo, throw it back! Get in the car. We need to get out of here!”

“No, seriously Pat, look!” She thrust the hand in her friend’s direction, more forcefully this time. “It’s only a shop mannequin, see? You can see the metal slot hole in the wrist where it would have attached to the arm.”

Pat, still panicked and unsure, looked up and inhaled deeply at the same instant. 

“It’s painted plaster, and not terribly worse for wear, actually. Almost had me fooled, too.”

“Oh, good gracious. Good heavens, Brenda. So, no body. No murderer?”

“Someone has probably dumped their rubbish off the road, that’s all. It’s all okay. No murderer. The worse that’s happened here is illegal littering. And an unfortunate phantom urinator.”

“Oh, well that really was a right old fright. What a bizarre thing to happen. A mannequin of all things.” Relief washed over her and she broke out laughing, which in turn set Brenda off as well.

When finally the ladies had got their breath back, Brenda started the engine and pulled onto the empty road to continue their journey. The fog had lifted somewhat and it wasn’t too long before the lights of a town appeared in the distance before them.

At the place beside the road where the two women had stopped earlier, random bits and pieces of several mannequins lay silently in the dampened undergrowth alongside the undiscovered bodies of two female hitchhikers who’d gone missing the summer before last.