US 219 crosses US 50 right before you hit the West Virginia border.\u00a0 During college, I drove that road several times a year traveling between DC and little Elkins, WV.\u00a0\u00a0 At night, the crossing can be spooky.\u00a0 A gas station, forever abandoned, is the only nearby building, and a lonely stop sign on 219 has you slowing down for the first time after half an hour of mountain driving.<\/p>\n
I wrote One Night in 1995 while pulled over on the apron of that abandoned gas station. The ending is, I think, unfinished. Or internalized rambling. \u00a0Or just crap. \u00a0I think I was angling towards it all being some sort of dream. \u00a0But I don’t know anymore because I haven’t looked at this in a decade. \u00a0Anyway, it sucks. \u00a0But part of the Sunday Archives project is to throw everything out. \u00a0What the fuck, right? \u00a0You can see how my writing has changed (or not) over the years.\u00a0<\/p>\n
* * *<\/p>\n
A red light, out here in the middle of nowhere.\u00a0 A long wait, too.\u00a0 Monty glanced down US 50.\u00a0 No headlights, no sign of anything.\u00a0 An overwhelming sense of solitude, a wall of darkness pressed against the lights of this small intersection.\u00a0 This was absurd.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust run it.\u201d He hissed to himself, the voice of an internal argument.<\/p>\n
He glanced at the rearview mirror \u2013 a rectangle of night framed by the red glow of the traffic light.\u00a0 Not much farther, then he could get rid of it.\u00a0 Do what he had to do; it was as simple as that.\u00a0 Pick up a bag and get rid of it.\u00a0 That\u2019s all this was.\u00a0 It didn\u2019t matter what was in the bag.<\/p>\n
Ignorance is bliss.\u00a0 Right?\u00a0 Be extra careful.\u00a0 Remember that old logging road?\u00a0 Good, go on up to the old camp, take her down into Miller\u2019s Hole, drop her in the lake.\u00a0 Buried underground.\u00a0 Underwater.\u00a0 Our secret place.\u00a0 Where we grew up.\u00a0 Our place.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat have you done?\u201d Monty asked the mirror, the night, the car.\u00a0 He\u2019d been asking that question for the last 200 miles.\u00a0 What have you done?\u00a0 What am I doing?<\/p>\n
The light changed.\u00a0 Out here, in the cool spring night, he could hear the relays click.\u00a0 The sound brought him back to attention.\u00a0 There, illuminated in his headlights, stood a girl.\u00a0 Slim, blonde, pale.\u00a0 Shadowed eyes in a sad, pasty face.\u00a0 He jumped.\u00a0 He knew the face.<\/p>\n
She walked up to the passenger window while Monty sat frozen, staring forward, mouth slightly open.\u00a0 \u201cHello, Monty.\u201d She leaned into the car.\u00a0 \u201cAm I in the trunk?\u201d<\/p>\n
He turned towards her, unable to speak.<\/p>\n
\u201cDriving too long?\u201d she asked.\u00a0 \u201cTired?\u00a0 Guilt-ridden, perhaps?\u00a0 A delusion.\u00a0 Imagination.\u201d\u00a0 She opened the door and climbed in.\u00a0 Pulling the seatbelt across her body, she turned and smiled.\u00a0 \u201cLight\u2019s green.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m just doing it\u2026 I just\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know,\u201d she put a cold hand on his, \u201cLight\u2019s green, Monty.\u00a0 Please.\u201d<\/p>\n
She pointed forward with a long finger and Monty eased his foot onto the accelerator.\u00a0 The car drifted through the intersection, then he pulled over onto the grassy shoulder.\u00a0 \u201cShould I go to the police?\u00a0 Is that why you\u2019re here?\u201d<\/p>\n
She was staring straight ahead; perhaps watching the headlights battle the night.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m a figment.\u00a0 You\u2019re in charge.\u00a0 Whatever you gotta do you gotta do, yes?\u201d<\/p>\n
He swallowed and nodded.\u00a0 \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
He pulled back onto the road and headed into the night.\u00a0 Always alone.\u00a0 No headlights in the distance, only the occasional dot of a farmhouse on the horizon.\u00a0 The woman rode in silence, sometimes looking at Monty and sometimes watching the night.\u00a0 After half an hour she craned her neck and looked up through the windshield.\u00a0 \u201cNo stars.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCloudy, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n
Monty didn\u2019t look up.\u00a0 \u201cYou have to leave.\u00a0 How do I make you leave?\u201d<\/p>\n
She turned slowly, her wide mouth breaking into another smile.\u00a0 \u201cMonty, I told you, I\u2019m not here.\u00a0 Maybe you need a nap?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have to keep moving.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, yes.\u00a0 You\u2019re dropping me in an underground lake.\u00a0 That\u2019s an exotic resting place.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe used to hang out there.\u00a0 It\u2019s an old mining town.\u00a0 The railroad dried up in the 70\u2019s and everybody left.\u00a0 Can\u2019t hardly get there now, except an old logging road.\u00a0 Crazy to drive up there. Crazy\u2026\u201d\u00a0 Monty was muttering, rocking back and forth slightly.\u00a0 He stopped when her hand touched his shoulder, his breath catching in his throat.<\/p>\n
\u201cPoor Monty.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u00a0 I\u2019m so sorry.\u201d\u00a0 He put a hand to his eyes, trying to stop from crying.\u00a0 Instead, everything broke with one sob.\u00a0 Tears streaked down his cheeks.<\/p>\n
\u201cDear, dear, Monty.\u201d She whispered.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re overtired.\u00a0 Pull over.\u201d<\/p>\n
It took him several moments to regain enough composure to pull the car off the road.\u00a0 He shut off the engine and the lights and the world plummeted into darkness.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe night always seemed safe to me,\u201d her shadow said, moving against the night sky outside her window.\u00a0 \u201cSome people are afraid, but I love it.\u00a0 Well, I used to love it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Monty was holding her hand.\u00a0 He let go and stared at her shadow, his eyes slowly adjusting to the night.\u00a0 He could see her face now, her eyes, her pale skin glowing softly in the diffused rays of a hidden moon.\u00a0 A gentle rain began to fall, the sound bringing some sense of reality back to his mind.\u00a0 The real world was still out there, beyond this car.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow well did you know me?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI looked in the bag,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cAm I still beautiful?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
She smiled sadly.\u00a0 \u201cThank you, Monty.\u201d<\/p>\n
He leaned forward, tilted her face towards his, and kissed her.\u00a0 She kissed back, cool lips to his and cold fingers on the back of his neck.\u00a0 His lips trailed across her face.\u00a0 She whispered his name, then lifted herself over the emergency brake and straddled him.\u00a0 She hit the horn when she shifted and burst into embarrassed giggles, then she leaned forward and kissed him again.\u00a0 He pulled her close, ripping the back of her blouse out of her jeans and trying to lift it over her head.The white blouse slipped off, her arms in the air, her small breasts in his face.\u00a0 He moved his mouth to a nipple, feeling it harden beneath his tongue, and then he closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
A flash of white.<\/p>\n
Pulling her clothes away.\u00a0 Never again, never again.\u00a0 Blue fabric ripping, blind red rage. Pale face screaming, black pants pulling down.\u00a0 Gripping, hands under elastic, fighting nails and tearing panties.He opened his eyes as she placed a fingertip in his mouth, against his tongue, then brought it to her own mouth.\u00a0 Her hand began to unbutton his shirt, move down his chest, work at his belt.\u00a0 Her mouth closed on his again.<\/p>\n
Screaming.\u00a0 Stop it!\u00a0 Stop it!<\/p>\n
\u201cStop it,\u201d She whispered in his ear.<\/p>\n
His eyes opened again and he jerked back.\u00a0 She had something \u2013 she\u2026<\/p>\n
A knife.\u00a0 It looked so strange, rising over him, glinting in the night, its long blade driving into his chest.\u00a0 She leaned forward and kissed him again as he felt blood rise into his throat and pass into her mouth.\u00a0 The kiss finished, her lips coated in his blood, she leaned back against the steering wheel, pulled the knife out and, calmly,\u00a0 drove it slowly into him a second time.<\/p>\n
* * *<\/p>\n
Amy jerked awake to the sounds of the highway.\u00a0 Blood on her hands.\u00a0 The steady breathing of the interstate outside, the trucker traffic roaring at 5am.\u00a0 The motel room was full of smoke.\u00a0 Jack had been up all night.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere you there?\u201d\u00a0 He asked.<\/p>\n
She sat up, rubbing her eyes.\u00a0 Jack was sitting in a chair by the open window, smoking and watching the highway.\u00a0 The sounds of a family drifted up from the parking lot.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d She replied, her voice shaky.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s dead?\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t worry.\u00a0 You did what you had to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
She got out of bed and walked over to the hazy mirror above the cracked sink.\u00a0 The face that stared back was tired, sunken, thin.\u00a0 \u201cWas I beautiful?\u201d she asked herself.\u00a0 Then she washed her hands until her skin began to burn and the muscles in her arms ached.\u00a0 Jack finally stopped her, crossing the room silently and pulling her away from the sink.\u00a0 She stared at the water until he shut it off, then she stared at her hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s the last one,\u201d he said, his mouth close to her ear.\u00a0 \u201cYou were clumsy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was too much\u2026\u201d She looked again in the mirror.\u00a0 \u201cToo much like me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jack backed away, disappearing in shadow and dream, when someone hammered on the door.\u00a0 A man\u2019s voice announced that he was a State Trooper.\u00a0 She smiled.\u00a0 She\u2019d driven Monty\u2019s car two days west, but there was no running from what she was, and what was in the trunk.\u00a0 And if it got really bad, she could just fade away like Jack.\u00a0 Then start all over again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
US 219 crosses US 50 right before you hit the West Virginia border.\u00a0 During college, I drove that road several times a year traveling between DC and little Elkins, WV.\u00a0\u00a0 At night, the crossing can be spooky.\u00a0 A gas station, …<\/p>\n