Road to Nowhere

by Christopher Pike

  Teresa laughed. “You believe in that garbage?”

  Free laughed with her. “There’s so much of it in the world, how can you not believe in it? But I’m serious, you must ask her to read your fortune so that you’ll know what’s going to happen next in your life.”

  “I don't think I want to know,” Teresa said.

  Free continued to watch her. “They all say that.”

  Teresa stopped laughing. “Who are they?”

  “My mother’s clients,” Free said. He pointed to the next exit. They had reached the outskirts of San Luis Obispo. After this, if they took the coastal route, the road would narrow and begin to wind as it followed the rugged coast. “Let's get off here,” Free said. “This is a good place.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  There was an AM PM Mart near the off ramp. Teresa slopped in front of the gas pumps and turned off the engine. The three of them climbed out. The rain was still coming down, a light sprinkle. A breeze blew from the direction of the ocean, making her shiver despite her fever. The heels of Poppy’s black boots clicked on the pavement as she headed towards the side of the store.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Poppy said.

  “I’ll go with you,” Free said, opening the door to the back seat on his side of the car. “I want to change.” He reached inside and unzipped his garment bag. “These damp clothes are beginning to bother me.”

  “Can I get you anything while I’m inside the store?” Teresa asked.

  Free paused and reached inside his pocket to pull out a wad of bills. He motioned her over and thrust two twenties in her hand. “Fill up your tank and get me some beer,” he said.

  She smiled. “Let’s not go through that again. They won’t sell me alcohol.”

  “You can try,” Free said, going back to his clothes bag.

  “Do you want anything?” Teresa called to Poppy, who was ready to disappear round the side of the building. Poppy didn’t turn round.

  “Get me a new Bic lighter,” she called.

  “But don’t you want something to eat?” Teresa asked.

  “Peanuts,” Poppy shouted.

  “Peanuts and popcorn for Poppy Corn,” Teresa muttered under her breath as she headed for the front door of the mini-mart. She'd have to pay before she pumped any gas; that’s what the sign said.

  Inside a frumpy middle-aged woman with a backside as wide across as a bar room TV stood up from her suffering stool and put her Diet Coke down on the counter. “Good morning,” she muttered.

  “It is morning, isn’t it,” Teresa said. “What time is it?” She had a watch on but it was easier just to ask.

  “One thirty-five,” the woman said without checking. Her voice was flat and uninterested in everything. Her brown eyes were equally flat; she might have looked more alive if she’d been lying on the floor with a sheet over her face. Oh, well, Teresa thought. It’s late.

  She headed for the candy section first. Her Junior Mints were all gone. Picking up three more boxes, she moved towards the nuts. There were several kinds of peanuts. She got Poppy a small jar of Planters – the most expensive kind. The beer she didn’t bother with at all. Free could buy it himself. He said he’d found his licence.

  Teresa picked up a carton of milk and a box of doughnuts and stepped up to the counter. There she picked up a lighter. She collected everything with her right hand. Her left wrist was aching even worse than before. The pain seemed to extend up her arm, and the tips of her fingers had gone slightly numb. She studied the area, but could see no bruises, no scrapes – nothing. For the life of her she couldn’t remember where she had hurt it.

  It was weird. Like the store.

  The woman at the counter checked her out with the lethargy of a person twice her age. Teresa handed her one of the twenties.

  “I'll get as much gas as there is change,” Teresa told the woman.

  “That will be eleven fifteen,” the woman replied before she had even finished ringing up everything. Teresa was curious.

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  The woman stared at her blankly. “How do I know what?”

  “How much change I have left for gas. You haven’t rung everything up.”

  The woman slowly bent over and came up with a brown paper bag. “When you’ve been here as long as me everything costs the same,” she said.

  The woman never did finish ringing up the order. Teresa left with her bag of junk food and deposited it on her own seat while she got the gasoline pumping into the tank. Poppy Corn and Freedom Jack emerged from the side of the store. They had both changed clothes. Free had donned clothes that were identical to his previous ones as far as cut was concerned, except that these were a kaleidoscope of colours. Poppy had also disposed of her white trousers. Now she wore red slacks; the same shade of red as her blouse. Her legs continued to rest snugly in black boots, however, and she kept her black leather jacket on. Free deposited the garment bag in the back seat in the same place as before.

  “Did you get the beer?” he asked.

  “I can’t buy you beer,” Teresa said, feeling a bit exasperated. He was fun, but he didn’t know when to quit.

  “Did you try?” he asked.

  “Yes, I tried real hard,” Teresa said.

  Free glanced at the store. There were posters in the windows; it was hard to see inside. For example, Teresa could no longer see the woman. “I believe you,” he said, turning. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Poppy touched his arm as he started to leave. Something touched her usually reserved expression. It may have been concern, even pain – it was hard to tell.

  “I don’t need anything,” Poppy told him.

  Free appeared surprised at her interest in his actions. But he was as flippant as he always was with her. “I didn’t ask you,” he said.

  “Let’s just get out of here,” Poppy said.

  Free hesitated. He searched her face, and she looked away as he did. She turned to the north and the move could have been an unspoken cue for him to lose interest in what she had to say. He stepped away from her, and her hand fell off his arm, and hung wearily by her side. Poppy looked tired right then, as if the night had finally got late enough to penetrate her silent reserve.

  “Get in the car, both of you,” Free said. “I won’t be long.”

  The gasoline pump clicked. Teresa withdrew it from the side of her car and screwed the cap back on. Free disappeared inside. She climbed in the front seat as Poppy got in behind her. They sat for a moment without speaking. “I got your peanuts,” Teresa said finally.

  “Thank you,” Poppy muttered.

  “Would you like them now?”

  “Maybe later,” Poppy said.

  “Are you feeling OK?”

  “I always feel the same.” Poppy paused. “Are you OK?”

  “Yes. Well, actually no. I have a bit of a fever. I think I’m catching something.”

  “There’s a lot going around here.”

  Teresa chuckled. “Do you even know where we are?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re going to hit the winding part of the coast road soon. It’s too bad it’s not daytime. The scenery is beautiful.”

  “You’ve been hot all night,” Poppy said suddenly. “You should worry about yourself. Don’t worry about me. Can you do that, Teresa?”

  Poppy had never used her name before. It had a strong effect on Teresa, an unreasonably strong effect. It was as if just by saying her name Poppy had conveyed how much she cared for her, which was really ridiculous when Teresa thought about it. Because Poppy didn’t seem to care about anything, except perhaps her friend Candy. Poppy had occasionally shown emotion when she narrated Candy’s story.

  “What do I have to worry about?” Teresa asked.

  “Why are you running away from home?”

  “Who said I’m running away from home?”

  “I can tell,” Poppy said.

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Why do you
do that?” Poppy asked.

  “Why do I do what?”

  “Why do you lie?”

  Teresa was angry. “I’m not lying. I’m not running away from home. I am going up north to visit an old friend, if it’s any business of yours.”

  “All right,” Poppy muttered.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “No. But what do you care? You know when you’re lying and when you’re not. It only matters what you know. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “You have some nerve, Poppy, do you know that? Here I go out of my way to pick you up in the middle of the night and take you halfway up the coast and you repay me by giving me a lecture on how screwed up I am. Well, I’m fine. It’s you who has the personality problem. Look at you, you can’t go two minutes without sticking a cigarette in your mouth. And you just sit in the back making snide comments at Free when he’s trying to be friendly. Are you jealous of me or what? Just say it if you are.”

  “I’m not jealous of you, Teresa,” Poppy said.

  Teresa suddenly felt as if her balloon had been deflated. Once more, it was the way Poppy said her name. The girl was insulting, telling her how to behave. Yet when she said her name – it was as if she were her best friend, trying to warn her of danger. There was a warmth in her voice that was hard to identify. Teresa considered a moment before speaking again.

  “What’s your relationship to Free?” she asked. “Besides being his assistant?”

  “Did you get me a lighter?” Poppy asked.

  “Yes.” Teresa fished it out of the bag and handed it to Poppy. The dark-haired girl lit a cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke. Teresa quickly rolled down the window.

  “Have you tried chewing gum?” Teresa asked, coughing.

  “I tried everything to quit,” Poppy said. “But I’ve given up trying. You were asking about Jack and me. We used to be involved. We’re not involved anymore, at least not romantically.”

  “Why do you work with him? You don’t seem to get along.”

  “I have to work with him. I have no choice.” Poppy added softly, “I care about him.”

  Teresa hesitated. “Why do you call him by his last name – Jack?”

  “It’s his name. He doesn’t like it.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Teresa rubbed her hands together and glanced in the store. She could see neither Free nor the woman. “I wonder what’s taking him so long,” she said.

  “He’s probably robbing the store,” Poppy said.

  Teresa chuckled. “He’s such an incredible magician, I bet he could do it and no one would notice.”

  “He knows how to cast a spell,” Poppy agreed.

  Freedom Jack reappeared a minute later. He walked quickly to the car. He had two six-packs of beer in his hands. He climbed in and set the beer on the floor at his feet. He was sweating and breathing hard.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

  Teresa laughed again. “Poppy said you were in there robbing the store. You almost look like you just did.”

  Free smiled. “Yeah. That’s why I put on my psychedelic clothes. It hides the splattered blood.” He tapped the dashboard. “Let’s hit the road.”

  Teresa started the car. “You definitely want to go up the coast? The road splits just up ahead. The inland route – highway one o one – would be faster to San Francisco.”

  “We’ve got to see my mom,” Free said. “The coast is the only way to get to her.”

  Teresa nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

  They were back on the highway a minute later. Only then did Free relax in his seat. He opened a beer and offered it to her. Teresa shook her head. He raised it to his lips and took a sip. Poppy sat silently in the back seat trapped in clouds of smoke. The rain began to come down again, pelting now. It would be tricky navigating the coast road, Teresa thought, in the dark with the rain quietly thrumming on the roof. She hoped the traffic stayed as light as it was now. She hadn’t seen another car in a while.

  “Tell us more about Bill and Rene,” Free said finally.

  “I’d rather hear about John and Candy,” Teresa said.

  Once more Free reached over and touched her leg, higher this time, above her knee. His fingers squeezed her skin through her trousers and he grinned. “You have another Joker in your back pocket,” he said.

  Teresa blushed. “I do not! When did you put it there?”

  “When I pinched your butt,” Free said.

  Teresa giggled. “You did not pinch my butt. I would have felt that.”

  “You did feel it.” Free let go of her leg and took another drink of his beer. “I can’t talk about John until it’s my turn. It’s your turn now. What happened next? Did you find the two of them together in bed?”

  Teresa stopped giggling. She sucked in a painful breath. “Yes.”

  Free hooted. “I knew it! Tell us what happened.” He fidgeted excitedly. “This is going to be good.”

  “I’ll tell you what I know,” Teresa said. “But I’m not saying I know everything. They were real sneaky. I told you, Rene said she wanted to come to my second show to see me, but it was just an excuse to see Bill. While I was on stage, and between shows, they had plenty of time to talk and laugh at me.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Teresa’s parents came to the second show, along with Rene and Bill. Having her folks in the audience made Teresa almost as nervous as she had been the first night. The crowd was just as large if not larger. Mr. Gracione said the talk on the streets about her was all good. As she stepped out under the lights, people began to cheer. She felt scared but confident.

  Immediately things started to go wrong. On her first song she broke a guitar string. She had done it before, many times while practising. It was an anticipated difficulty, and she had told herself that if it happened during the show she was just to keep playing and finish the song. But the missing string threw her and she started singing out of tune. She had been on stage two minutes when she ground to a halt and smiled nervously at the audience she couldn’t see.

  “I broke a string,” she said apologetically.

  Mr. Gracione brought her a different guitar. She didn’t want a different guitar – she wanted to have a few minutes to restring her own. It was hard enough playing in front of people, never mind with an unfamiliar instrument. In her dressing-room she had an extra set of strings and would have preferred to run to get them. But she didn’t want to hurt Mr. Gracione’s feelings. The new guitar had steel strings, which she hated; they cut into her fingertips.

  She played ‘Until Then’ – the song that had brought down the house two days earlier. Her voice was right on and she played OK, but her mind wasn’t focused and she wasn’t feeling the song. When she finished, she heard a scattering of applause, but it was nothing compared to Tuesday. Her confidence faltered and she realized how easy it was for a star to become a shooting star and burn out.

  The night was far from a disaster, however. Only a few people left after her first set. Most wanted to hear more of her material. That was a good sign. Between acts she restrung her guitar, and the crowd gave her a warm welcome when she reappeared. She introduced a new number she had written that afternoon called ‘You.’ It was the best thing she had ever composed and she knew it. She saved it for last. Now she felt like singing.

  Watched the winter fall over me.

  In a night of dreams.

  Stood under the frosted tree.

  Laugh when I remember how it seemed.

  Thought that we were two.

  Called.

  You said, who?

  Still cry when I think of you.

  You.

  My confession is my own.

  Saw you kiss me.

  Didn’t want to go home.

  Stood under the barren tree.

  Felt the fall come over me.

  Felt you.

  Who?

  You.

  Stay, go – leave me alone.

  Stay, leave – I’m asking you ple
ase.

  Love is the word you say.

  But you won’t say.

  Love.

  Please say

  That you’ll stay.

  You’re so good.

  You’re so bad.

  You came to where I stood.

  Made it all seem so sad.

  Yeah, I stood under the lonely tree.

  Felt the night sink over me.

  Lost you.

  Why?

  Because of you.

  You.

  Stay, go – you’ve stolen my home.

  Stay, leave – I’m begging you please.

  Love is the word you would never say.

  Love.

  Please say

  That you’ll stay.

  The applause was thunderous. She stood up from her stool and raised her arms over her head, as if she had just won a race. Yet she didn’t feel so happy as she had a couple of days earlier. The clapping went on for a couple of minutes, but it sounded distant, far away. Something was missing – she didn’t know what. Her own voice had chilled even her. She felt as if she had been singing her own sad tale.

  Her parents greeted her jubilantly in the dressing- room. They brought her flowers. Her father kissed her on the cheek and told her he wanted her to practise the living-room so he could hear. It meant a lot to her – having their approval.

  Still – it wasn’t the same.

  It was late. Her parents wanted her to go straight home. She rode back to her apartment with Bill, but they had Rene with them so they didn’t really get to talk. Well, Rene and Bill talked enough. The two seemed to be getting along fabulously. Teresa just sat and listened. Her throat was sore from singing. She was going to have to build up her vocal cords.

  It surprised Teresa how little they talked about her show on the way back. She had thought that was the reason they had come. Oh, well, she wasn’t completely stupid and life sure was full of surprises. So they liked each other – that was fine. They were both good people and they were both still her friends. They could be friends, she wanted them to be. But that was all. She needed another male to add to this trio to fix it, she thought. When they reached Rene’s place, Teresa suggested they go out on a double date that Saturday night. Rene, of course, blushed and said she didn’t have anyone to go out with her. Teresa just smiled.