This second half of the story will make more sense it you read Part I first below.
Nathan and Annabelle sat unmoving in his car. It had been seven minutes and twenty three seconds since he had thrown his BMW in Park. Engines in the cars on the detour around him turned off one by one. The Astrovan ahead of them went silent, the exhaust pipe shuttered briefly, then was still. Nathan let out a labored sigh and shut his own engine off.
“I'm going to find out what's going on.”
He opened the door and got out. He walked up to the mini van. The windows were all open. The driver was in his forties, a thick black mustache hid his lips. He was leaned forward with both hands still on the wheel. He didn't seem to notice Nathan standing there. Nathan felt like he knew the guy after staring at his van and the graphic of his family and pets.
“This is crazy huh? What do you think is going on? Did you see any construction? It's Miguel, right?”
The man turned and looked at Nathan.
“No, no... see the picture on the back of your van, it says 'Miguel' so I...”
The man said nothing. His hands never left the wheel.
“Okaaay... Ah, no hablo? Right-right. That's cool.” Nathan walked ahead to the next car, an old 280Z. The windows were up. Nathan had to bend down and shield his eyes against the headlights of the minivan to see in. Nathan waved to get his attention the guy just stared forward wearily gripping his steering wheel.
Nathan made his way up the line of cars. Annabelle watched him until he passed into the dark and out of view.
She whistled a little tune.
“Getting chilly out there,” Nathan said closing the door and rubbing his shoulders. “I can't believe we're in the friggin' country, 'howdy do' and all that, and I'm the friendliest guy out there. I must have walked up a quarter of a mile. Not one of these idiots will say a word to me, not one. Weird!”.
“I could have told you that,” said Annabelle.
“You'd think people would want to stretch their legs at least.”
“You'd think.”
Headlights turned off one by one. Nathan's blueish halogens were soon the only light visible. Air escaped from Nathan's lips after a while. He reluctantly switched them off.
Nathan settled in his seat. He couldn't get comfortable. In the silence, every move he made against the black leather seemed embarrassingly loud, obnoxious even. There was no noise from Annabelle's side of the car.
He flattened his palm against the blue and white checkers of the BMW logo on his steering wheel. The horn exploded into the dark silence like a flash of sound and a mushroom cloud of reverb. He held it down hard until he was sure there was no doubt how pissed-off he was. Then, he held it there a little longer.
Nathan expected to here a cacophony of horns after his own. People often followed his leads, especially when descent was ripe.
Not a sound. The horn blast was swallowed by the night.
Miguel in the minivan was jolted awake by the horn blast. He gripped the steering wheel hard until he could convince himself that he had not fallen asleep driving down the freeway; then that's why he was there, why they were all there. He looked at the strange woman in his passenger seat.
“Feel better?” said Annabelle after Nathan had released the horn.
“What?”
“After yanking the chain on your steam whistle there Casey Jones. Did that help?”
“I don't get it. Why aren't these other people pissed off? They're all sitting here, just taking it, like lambs to the slaughter.”
“Not you though.”
“Hell no! If I was passive like the rest of these victims, I'd still be in the mail room and driving a shit box like that one. Look at these idiots, there aren't even any road cones, someone could just drive off through this field or whatever-the-hell-this-is and escape.”
“So what's holding you back? She said.
“Are you kidding, this is a B. M. W. -have some rock take out my oil pan, or catalytic converter, no thanks, I'll wait with the cattle.”
He clicked on the GPS. Her face glowed in the soft blue light.
Searching...
Searching...
“You're not cattle yourself, just stuck amongst them?”
“I learned to get what I want. It's not my fault that someone else settles for less, allows themselve to be taken advantage of. It's not my fault that they don't want it as bad. That's what makes them cattle and me, not.”
“Desperation?”
“Ambition, taking responsibility for getting what you want out of life.”
“A Beemer.”
“'B... M... W' Among other things.”
Searching...
“What about your son?”
“They'll be more time for him later. I can't slack off now, I'm making hay you know?”
“Hay?”
“Hay, while the sun shines... money, success.”
Searching...
No Signal
“So that's what you want?” said Annabelle.
“I want out of here that's what I want.”
“It's kinda nice. You see stars.”
Annabelle pointed up through the moon roof. Nathan glanced up with his eyes only.
“I just want outta here,” he said.
Car engines began starting up in the distance and closer until the brake light on the Astrovan painted their faces red. Nathan shifted impatiently in his seat. Annabelle kept looking up through the moon roof. The odd tree branch passed overhead.
The line of cars and trucks slowly rolled forward. The BMW rocked over gentle bumps in the grass. The ghosts of trees appeared at the edge of the dark. The path began to slope upwards.
Nothing had been said for several minutes. Nathan clicked on the radio out of boredom.
Static.
The path sloped down then leveled off. Dust rose in the air ahead. Gravel crunched under the succession of tires.
“A road! It's about damn time!” Nathan exclaimed.
“We're always on a road,” said Annabelle.
“Do you always have to do that... Chief Sitting Bullshit.”
“I have ironic slogans on my panties too, wanna see?”
“You know I do.”
“C'mon, lets pull off and make out!” she said smiling.
“But we're finally getting somewhere.”
“This crowd? Don't be too sure. Who cares anyway?”
“Annabelle listen, I'd love to fool around with you,” his hand moved to her thigh, “just hold that thought for a few minutes and let's see what happens,” he said.
“Suit yourself.”
The traffic was moving faster. Nathan's BMW shifted into second gear briefly.
“I wish these trees weren't so close, I really want to pass this dude, minivan Miguel here. He's got a whole football field in front of him.”
“Stop!” said Annabelle.
“What?”
“Stop the car!”
“What? Here?”
“Just stop!”
The black luxury sedan crunched to a halt. A cloud of dust drifted by them. The line of cars compacted behind them stopping one after the other.
“What is it?” Nathan said.
“There's a road. Don't you see it?”
Nathan's window whined and slid open with a solid shunk. Another gravel road intersected the first at a perfect ninety degrees. It headed off into the darkness both to the left and right.
“Let's go!” she said.
“Go where?”
“Wherever, down the road.”
“Which way?”
“Take your pick? Where's that take-charge spirit of yours when you were driving all over people just to get a couple car lengths ahead?”
In the clearing dust Nathan could see the gravel of the other road in the collective of headlights. Not a single tire print.
“I don't know. Where would this take us.”
“Might just take you all the way handsome.” Annabelle winked.
He laughed. “Tempting, but...”
“But not quite enough,” she said.
Annabelle reached down and picked up her purse. She leaned over and gave Nathan a kiss.
“It's been a pleasure traveling with you tonight Nathan. Give my love to your son when you see him.”
Her purse on her shoulder and began walking down the road that extended to the right. Nathan jumped out of the car and laid his arms on top.
“Annabelle! C'mon, what's wrong? Come back.”
“I'm right here Nathan. Come with me, let go of all that crap that you are afraid of, leave that precious car of yours and lets walk down this road. You won't regret it. ”
“I thought you dug the car."
"It's you I like Nathan, not the car, not the money. It's the same for you son by-the-way.”
"It's you I like Nathan, not the car, not the money. It's the same for you son by-the-way.”
“Annabelle, what's wrong? What'd I do?”
“Don't get this wrong Nathan, I'm not a girlfriend, not a date, not the way you're used to, I'm not hurt or upset. It's just time, you can come with me or go on your way, it's not too late but it is time for you to make a decision.”
“You're insane, where are you going? You're going off alone in the middle of nowhere.”
“Just like when I found you. Go... go see your son Nathan, he misses you more than you let yourself believe.”
“But Annabelle!”
“Be well handsome.”
Nathan was speechless. He watched her walk away into the black of the wooded road. He got back inside and looked at her through the window but she was already gone. Cars were beginning to honk behind him.
He clutched the steering wheel and looked ahead. What the hell had just happened?
More honking.
“Shit! Alright, alright you morons. I've spent a lifetime trapped behind your slow asses. It's not like you're going to get very far.”
The BMW spit a fist full of vengeful gravel and lurched forward. Literally and deliberately, he left the honking cars in the dust. All too soon he was looking at the rear of the Astrovan and following the line of brake lights leading off into the dark of the trees. No one had run out of gas pulled off to the side, he wondered why. He checked his tank, it was pegged at full.
The grade of the road increased again. He could hear a truck laboring in a low gear up ahead. The road had degraded some sort of logging road: two ruts with a patch of grass between. Nathan had to slow for deep pockets that had been large puddles at one time. The path began to curve more left and right. Keeping half an eye on the road, he grabbed his phone from his attache and turned in on.
Zero bars
He tossed the phone into the empty passenger seat. He missed her, not the usual: too-bad-I-didn't-get-laid; she had been sitting there for less than three hours and now there was a new empty spot on that half of the car. He pictured her walking down that mysterious road in the pitch black, smoking a cigarette and whistling a little tune. He it hear it as plain as if she were in his own head.
He started humming along.
Between the notes, it hit him. If he ever escaped this bizarre detour he would drive through the night, what was left of it, and see his son on his birthday and every one after that, every soccer game, every play, whenever he needed him he'd be there. No excuses!
The traffic seemed more infuriating than ever. Maybe he could turn around and go back to that other road, find another way back to a real highway, town, a cel signal, a farm house and a phone with a rotary dial... anything! What if he could find Annabelle, she could get him back, he'd introduce her to his son. She was a powerful ally, he never should have let her go.
The trees were so close now there was no room to pull off, say nothing of turning around and going back. If anyone had engine trouble they'd all be screwed. The canopy of branches overhead had grown lower, thicker. He could see broken branches from trucks. Whoever had laid-out this detour really had there head up their ass.
A branch scraped against his door.
“Jesus! If there's a scratch, Caltrans is going to hear from my lawyer.”
Nathan amused himself imagining Miguel showing some Caltrans exec the damage to his crappy-ass Astrovan, his wife following behind, chattering-on in angry Spanish.
The Astrovan pulled further ahead. It was getting difficult to keep centered on the track without more scratches to his BMW. Likewise, the line of cars behind him was more spread out, he could only make out two or three sets of headlights in his rear view mirror. The path turned sharply to the right.
“Damn, glad I'm not driving a truck. Those dudes have got to be pissed!”
The narrow turn was impossible for a truck. No damage to trees or branches. Where had the trucks gone?
More branches screeched across the black sedan. Nathan cringed and swore. The Astrovan was far up the hill, in-fact, he could only see the slight glow from the single working tail light on the overhead trees. The car behind him had not yet reached the sharp turn. Nathan suddenly felt lonely for the his friend Miguel, driving that horrible minivan and the stupid cartoon family staring at him. Nathan drove faster. Branches smacked and scraped along his paint job, it didn't matter now.
Nathan crested a hill hoping to see the friendly red tail light but there was only a glow, even more faint than it was before. He drove even faster, thirty... forty... the scratches against the sides of his beautiful car was a constant scream. He steered the narrow path with the concentration of a Grand Prix driver on a wet track. Fifty miles per hour on a logging road or whatever the hell this was. The car lurched and rumbled on the uneven track. He briefly caught air over a large bump. A low hanging branch banged against the roof, he landed and bottomed-out the four-way active computer controlled suspension. The noise was horrible like the sound of one's own bones breaking.
“HOLY SHIT!”
He did not slow. He was fighting now, fighting this road, this damn forest, fighting his way to his fellow detourees, fighting his way out of this mess so he could see his son.
Nathan flew up over a rise.
More air; a long one. Worthy of a Hollywood stunt.
The BMW tipped nose down as it went earthward. His headlights shined down on a log laying across the path. Nathan closed his eyes.
Impact!
The nose of the car dug into the dirt. A terrible sound. It sheered off the bumper cover and rolled it under him crumpled up like a piece of paper. The car slid to a halt the log jammed against the rear wheels.
Dust flew around him. Nathan sat at the wheel breathing hard. He wiped a single tear from his eye. He had been gripping the steering wheel so hard with his sweaty hands it was sticky. In his rear view he looked white as a ghost.
No cars ahead or behind.
He was alone.
He opened his window. Twigs slapped in, he fought them with his hands. He turned on his high beams, halogen fog lights, hazards, dome light, map light... anything he could think of to illuminate this strange place he found himself in. The growth was thick. Even walking through it would be difficult. Some of the branches had sharp spikes growing from them. Though it was early September, there was not a single green leaf to be seen. All the branches were bare and gray, He tried to open his door. He could only work it open a couple of inches against the forest.
“What is this,” Nathan said in a deep swallowed voice. “What the fucking hell is this.”
He shut off his engine. There was a hollow silence.
“HELLO!” he screamed. “ANYONE!... WHAT IS THIS!
“ANNABELLE... ANNNNAABELLLLE! ARE YOU OUT THERE?”
His voice was sucked into the forest without an echo.
“I've got to get out of here! Where I can at least get out of this damn car, I've got to find Annbelle.”
Nathan started his engine.
Reverse.
The tires spun against the log.
Faster.
Rubbing, squealing.
Faster.
Smoke.
Nathan swore as he slammed his transmission into drive. He didn't want to any further but his temperament wouldn't let him stay in one place.
He rolled forward slowly. Branches screeched on all sides. Twigs whipped his face through the open window. It wouldn't close.
The track was no longer any sort of road. A single footpath. Nathan forced his sedan through the underbrush. Tears streamed down his face.
“I'm tryin' Zachary, I'm tryin'. Your dad's trying to get home to you buddy. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry...”
Nathan repeated his promises and apologies over and over. His words seemed to slur into the hum of the engine.
Down the path the passable clearance grew smaller and smaller like a constricting tunnel, the growth thicker, the grass and brush taller. At any point he might grind to a complete stop and be stuck forever, but he kept moving.
Forward.
Forward.
Underbrush filled his windshield, he could not even see his headlights. The branches turned to small twigs and the twigs became grass-like fibers as if he was being squeezed through the inside of a bail of hay. The endless scrapping on all sides of the car morphed into a dull roar.
Nathan was no longer driving. His wheels were not on any sort of ground. His engine dieseled and sputtered to a stop, yet he kept moving slowly forward, pushed through this dense tunnel by some unseen pressure behind him. He was not steering. There was no left or right; only forward, slowly forward. He would have taken his hands off the wheel... if he could.
He would be screaming... if he could.
It had been hours maybe. What's an hour? It had been a long time and a numbers of long times strung together. Nathan's windshield was filled with a solid mass of dirt and gravel inching slowly to the sides and past his moon roof. It was packed so tightly only small pieces of it fell in through his open window. All around him was nothing but the soft rubbing sound of his car inching forward.
On.
On.
He moved slower and slower until, almost imperceptibly, he stopped.
Trapped.
He remembered faintly telling a joke about wanting to be buried in his BMW. He felt the hints of an unpleasant sensation.
Nausea.
Nathan did not move. It was something he no longer did.
He was the same yellowish white color as the seat, the steering wheel, the dashboard...
There was a noise. Scraping, lifting. A massive grooved pink object pressed over his window and against his shoulder. It was warm.
Up.
Dirt fell away from around the car. Daylight stabbed his eyes. They wouldn't close. Nathan felt himself moving as if in an elevator going many stories.
Up.
An immense eye looked straight at Nathan where he sat motionless behind the wheel.
“Annabelle!”
She was dressed differently. A conservative yellow dress, her hair up in a bun, glasses. She smiled at the little man behind the wheel.
“There you are,” she said.
She brushed dirt away from the car and polished it a little on the hem of her dress. She placed the car in her purse and continued down the path. Sun dappled through the leaves in dancing patterns. She sat on a bench and whistled a tune. Nathan knew it well.
“What's the matter? You look kinda sad.” she said to the boy who sat down on the other side of the bench. The boy said nothing. She looked up at a group of kids and parents at a nearby set of picnic tables. A colorful piñata dangled from a tree branch.
“Sometimes birthday parties aren't much if somethings bothering you huh?”
“It's my birthday,” said the boy.
“Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Your party didn't turn out like you hoped?”
“It's okay I guess. I was hoping my dad would come.”
“Maybe's he's just late.”
“Nah, he never comes. I was just hoping.”
“You can't let that get you down. Looks like everyone is having a lot of fun.”
“He didn't call either. And...” The boy picked at a chip of paint on the bench. “The phone rang late last night. My mom didn't know I was awake. She was real upset about the call. This morning, she wouldn't tell me who called or what happened. She's pretending like nothing happened, but I'm worried about my dad.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Annabelle said.
“Thanks,” said the boy.
“You know, Annabelle said opening her purse. “I might just have something for a boy who isn't having the best birthday.”
She handed him a small black toy car. A plastic man was at the wheel. A little phone, a bump in the plastic, was sitting on the seat next to him.
“It's just like my dad's new car!” he said.
“It's yours, if you want it.”
“Sure, thanks Mrs...”
“Ms. Jude, Annabelle.”
“Thanks Ms. Jude.”
Nathan looked back at his son through his plastic windshield. “He's getting so big,” he said somewhere inside. He laughed at the irony.
The boy walked back to the party flicking the wheels of his new car. Annabelle got up from the bench and walk down the path.
Whistling a little tune.
