Inocente stared down the ominous road. “You’re the first person I’ve seen out here all night.”
“Do you know where we are?” Calvin asked.
Inocente shook his head softly. “No man. I’m lost as hell. Don’t even know how I ended up here. I was listening to my radio, and my head must have drifted away.”
“Yeah, same thing happened to me. So tell me, does your cell work out here? Do you have a signal?” Calvin asked, thinking that maybe he could borrow it and let Carol know how late he was running.
Inocente looked at him curiously and suspiciously. “What?”
“Your phone,” Calvin explained. “Is it working?”
“What the hell good is my phone going to do me out here?” he replied, eying Calvin like he was a crazy asshole.
The man was drunker than Calvin thought. Calvin could see that more clearly, now. “Can I give you a lift? Where are you heading?”
“Home,” Inocente said, rubbing his forehead. “I was at a great party with lots of girls and drinks. I didn’t do so well with the girls, but the drinks; they never say no.”
“So do you want that ride?” Calvin offered again.
Inocente shook his head. “No man. I can’t leave my car out here. You got cables? Can you give me a jump?”
Calvin nodded, hesitantly. “But are you okay to drive?”
“Oh yeah,” Inocente insisted. “I barely got a buzz left. I’m cool.”
“Once I get you going, do you mind if I follow you out of here?” Calvin asked, not anxious to face the rest of the mysterious road on his own.
Inocente shrugged. “Yeah, man, whatever. If I see a place to eat, though, I’m pulling over. I’m starving. No food at that fucking party. No food and stuck-up bitches.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m hungry, too,” Calvin admitted. This new route was keeping him from his dinner from hell. He didn't know whether to resent it or be eternally grateful.
Calvin got in his car and pulled to the Pinto. Within minutes, they had Inocente’s car going.
Inocente gave a brief wave to Calvin and then he took off, going as fast as four cylinders could take him. Calvin followed the Pinto. He felt safer now, but the Pinto navigated down the road at what felt like a snail’s pace to Calvin. He had to fight that primal urge to tear around Inocente and leave the slow bastard behind.
He sighed heavily and brought out a tin box of aspirin from his shirt pocket. He popped one in his mouth and swallowed it. His stomach growled, loudly and for a long time. Has your throat been cut, my old friend? Calvin imagined his belly saying.
Calvin glanced at his watch. It was a little after midnight. He felt like he had been on this road longer than that, but he was sure that moving along in the night with no stimulation had just made the distance seem greater.
He stared at Inocente's car, and strained his eyes towards the license plate. The sticker read AUG 76. Calvin scrunched up his face curiously. Why would the registration sticker read 1976? He suddenly thought of how incredulously Inocente had stared at him when Calvin asked about a cell phone.
Calvin laughed at the thought; it was a ridiculous one. Maybe the sticker was a special kind of tag that commemorated the Pinto being a classic car. Yeah, that had to be it.
Calvin finally admitted that it was a banner night for weirdness. But there were explanations for all of it, even if he was too tired and hungry to slap them on right now. Still, if he had another opportunity to speak to Inocente, he would ask about the plate and clear it up, so at least one mystery would be solved.
He saw the lighted sign, in the near distance. It had just popped in from nowhere.
MIDNIGHT SNACK
The letters fronted the image of a statuesque woman in a red bikini hoisting a hot dog toward her face. The giant blonde glowed in the flickering neon. She gave a smile and a wink to the darkness. Inocente turned on his right signal way too early. He then stuck his hand out of the window and pointed over the top of his car toward the sign.
“Yeah, Inocente,” Calvin said, with a laugh. “I get it.”
As they drew closer, Calvin got a better look at the red and black building. It was a pitiable spot for a business. And the shape, colors and cruel décor of it put him more in the mind of a tattoo parlor or strip club. There were a throng of classic muscle cars pulled into the small parking lot, which gave credence to the place being an eatery. Many food places, especially gimmicky ones, promoted classic car nights. Calvin wasn’t an expert on cars, but the sleek and dark vehicles huddled around the building definitely spoke to his masculinity. Now these were classics, Calvin thought, regarding the Pinto he was following. Inocente had brought a pig to the prom. One thing stuck out to Calvin, though. Weren’t car nights usually held on the weekends? He hadn’t frequented these types of gatherings often, and he had never attended one on purpose. It just seemed like more of a weekend ritual to him.
He dismissed any lingering suspicion or curiosity. Calvin had finally found an oasis. He would have food now. And he was sure someone in the establishment would know the way off of these dismal lanes.
Calvin followed Inocente through the pocked driveway. The lot was packed, and peering into the windows of the establishment, he could see people occupying every table. It was quite a crowd for such a lonely stretch. There must have been pockets of civilization around them somewhere.
Inocente pulled along the drive thru lane and Calvin followed. There were a couple of vehicles in front of Inocente, so Calvin slipped the car into park and killed the engine. He anticipated a wait and saw no reason to waste gas. He glanced back into the dining room. A motionless crowd of people hunkered over the tables and booths. They glowed without color beneath fluorescent lights. It looked like a group of young people to Calvin; maybe high school attendees. They all looked bored and lifeless.
Calvin smiled, remembering the limitations of his own youth. Twenty one couldn’t come fast enough for those kids, Calvin was sure. He wondered if any teenager ever appreciated how relatively easy life was on the young. Those punks would be getting their guts kicked out by reality soon enough. Enjoy the shade, while you can; his advice to them.
Inocente’s taillights flashed, so Calvin started the engine back up and the car rolled a couple of feet. He decided to keep it running. Killing and restarting the car was probably not a kind thing on the engine, which was ailing anyway. He didn’t want to end up stranded there.
His eyes went back to the window. A young girl stared out at him. She looked to be about ten. She was certainly no older than that. Her face was pale and her eyes were shadowed. Calvin smiled and gave her a wave. She sat there, facing Calvin but not acknowledging him in any way. He took the smile back, and turned away. But his eyes rolled toward to the girl once more. She continued to stare at him. Her eyes were hidden, burying intention. She was as still as furniture.
Calvin stopped looking at the girl and he put on imaginary blinders. The girl was creeping him out, and he just couldn’t adjust to the queer vibe coming off of this little onlooker. Even with a meal and guidance out of this black hole to come, Calvin stressed fearfully. He thought of Lot’s wife, but looked again anyway. His head moved as if his chin was being tilted in that direction by invisible fingers.
The girl was no longer alone in her vigil. Calvin had a ghoulish audience of a dozen or more pressed against the window. The odd pack looming over the gray little girl was made up of the teenagers Calvin had spotted upon his entrance. Their still and ashen faces stared silently at him. They glowed in the fluorescent lighting. The crowd looked like the reflection of a mob staring in. Their color was muted and nearly absent. They were ghosts trapped in cold and bloodless flesh. It was all too much for Calvin. The desire to flee overwhelmed him. It was time to kiss this madness goodbye.
Calvin slipped the car into reverse and looked back over his shoulder. A car had crept to the spot behind him. Calvin was blocked in. He looked frantically to his rearview mirror. The driver behind him was concealed in darknes
s. To Calvin's left was the building and to his right was a concrete partition, at least three feet high that would not let him go around the Pinto.
He rolled down his window and stuck his head out cautiously into the hot night.
“Inocente,” Calvin whispered loudly. He called three more times before Inocente’s drunken face poked out of his own window.
“What’s going on back there?” Inocente said. He had the next turn at the menu.
“There is something weird about this place,” Calvin said urgently. “Let’s get out of here.”
“How we gonna do that?” Inocente said, glancing to the building, the partition and then back to the paranoid man behind him. “We’re stuck, amigo.”
Calvin motioned to the dining room window. “Look inside at those people,” he begged of Inocente
Inocente stared in the direction and frowned. “What people, bro?”
Calvin looked back to the window. The dining hall was empty. The black tables and red booths were unattended. “There were people in there a minute ago,” Calvin insisted. “There were a lot of them and they looked dangerous.”
“You high, man?” Inocente teased. “You got weed in there with you?”
“I’m telling you that something isn’t right here,” Calvin maintained.
“Look, man, we’re here. We’re stuck. We’re hungry. So we get our food and then we hustle. It’s simple as that. You follow me, and I won’t let anything happen to you. Okay, man?”
Calvin nodded and tucked his head back into his car.
Inocente chuckled and muttered something in Spanish. It was his turn so he scooted to the menu.
Calvin looked back to the window. His ghostly admirers had returned.
“Jesus,” Calvin whined, apprehensively. He looked to Inocente, who was studying the menu.
"May I help you?" a feminine voice asked through the static over the speaker.
“I need a second, baby,” Inocente replied, hanging his head out of the window and still deciding. “What’s your name?”
“Julie,” replied the voice on the speaker.
“My name is Inocente, though I’m not very,” he said, looking back to Calvin and winking.
Calvin watched the exchange in front him, feeling small, helpless and terrified as he did so. He wasn’t looking at the dining room anymore. Calvin stared straight ahead, willing things to move faster.
He glanced to his rearview and could now see the driver behind him. It was a man. He had maniacal eyes and too much facial hair. He stared back at Calvin. There was a foreboding but pleased expression on his face. The man looked like a mental patient and madness boiled behind those crazed eyes. Calvin stopped looking there as well.
Inocente finally ordered. "Hmm. I'll have a large taco, no tomatoes, and an order of fries, regular, and a large coffee, black."
The voice said some things Calvin couldn't quite make out for the static, ending with "...coffee, black."
Inocente grunted. "I couldn’t make out shit you just said, and I ain’t repeating. I’ll trust you, baby. You’ve never steered me wrong, right, Julie?”
"Would (click-whir-buzz) an apple turnover with that, sir?"
"Let me ask you a question, Julie. If I had an overwhelming desire for an apple turnover, don't you think I would express that longing myself?” Inocente asked, the booze in him showing. “You people are always piling on, you know; trying to give us more than we want. It’s not cool, you understand?”
Calvin grimaced and shook his head. No, don’t make a scene, he thought, anxious of the situation. He would have called out, but he was leery of Inocente as well. Quite honestly, Inocente was scary; he was big, drunk and he had a gruff and intimidating personality. Calvin wanted to intercede, but he didn’t desire any worse behavior from his road buddy. And he certainly didn’t want to be alone out there without Inocente. So Calvin simply observed and hoped for the best.
Inocente’s angry facade cracked and he snorted and laughed. “I am just messing with you, Julie! Yeah, give me an apple turnover. I love that shit.”
"Thank (click) sir. Please (buzz) through."
Calvin sighed and followed Inocente. He went a very short distance and stopped. The bright menu lit up his face, and Calvin was greeted by the voice. He didn’t want to order, at first. But the pictures of food set his hunger pains off again. The food was never as good and fresh as the pictures depicted, but he was starving, and there was nothing else out here.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger, fries and large coffee, please,” Calvin said, trying to come off as pleasantly as possible.
"Would (click-whir-buzz) an apple turnover with that, sir?"
“No, please, no thank you,” Calvin answered.
His order was read back to him. He acknowledged it, though very little of it had been discernable though the speaker. It didn’t matter. Whatever came his way would serve his hunger.
Inocente slid his car to the drive thru window, and Calvin followed. He hoped his friend would behave himself.
“We are almost out of here. Please be cool,” Calvin whispered to Inocente.
Inocente paid for his food, and then took a white, crumpled bag from the sliding window shelf and surveyed its contents.
"Hey, what is this, a joke?” Inocente growled, staring at the pay window. “I didn't order this garbage!"
Calvin couldn’t see the cashier, but he heard her soft voice ask Inocente, “Would you like a manager, sir?”
"No! To hell with it! I don't want anything! Here, you eat this crap!" Inocente exclaimed, vehemently tossing the bag back through the window. “Give me back my money!”
Suddenly, Inocente screamed and scooted across the seat. “Demonio!” he cried as he moved.
Two large, green hairy arms shot out of the drive-thru window, grasping Inocente’s head and hauling him back.
Calvin froze and panted fearfully. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles hurt.
An unearthly howl drowned out Inocente’s pleas. The monstrous arms twisted his head completely around, until the man was looking into Calvin's eyes, his face locked eternally into an expression of absolute terror.
The beast began to haul the flaccid corpse out of the Pinto and into the drive-thru window. It had no qualms about snapping the dead man's limbs so the body could be squeezed through.
A foul song suddenly filled the air. Calvin looked back to the dining room window. The silent specters were now all howling. Calvin could see the rot in their black mouths. They rushed toward the front of the restaurant. He could picture them pouring out of the eatery. He rolled up his window hastily and braced himself.
There was a commotion near the pay window. Calvin caught a shadow of motion and looked back to the dining room. The rot-mouthed ghosts had returned, and they had pieces of Inocente in their hands. They feasted on his flesh, licked and nibbled at his glossy organs and gnawed at his bones. The fiends made a short snack of him, and then turned their reddened faces back to Calvin.
Calvin covered his mouth in fear and he gagged.
A busboy, wearing a hairnet and flashing a slimy smile, came out of the restaurant through a side door. The busboy got into the empty Pinto and pulled it around the corner.
A car horn cried out angrily behind Calvin. He almost wet himself. Calvin looked in the rearview. The hairy lunatic behind him grinned and pressed the horn to action again.
Calvin trained his eyes forward, and a small human hand appeared at the sliding glass window, beckoning him forth. He sat there, rooted by his dread. He thought of speeding by the window, but then he imagined that green arm ripping his head from his shoulders as he did so. The lunatic complained with his horn again. A girl’s face poked out of the window and stared at him curiously.
“Sir, you need to come forward,” she called back to him. Her face seemed kind, even with shadow on it.
Calvin pulled slowly to the window. He hesitantly peered inside
"Good morning, sir. Your order comes t
o seven dollars and forty-six cents," the girl in a red and black uniform said to him.
She looked to be about sixteen. She was slim. Her dark hair was bunched under a red cap and her green eyes were magnified by thick glasses. She sat on a barstool next to the cash register.
Calvin noticed a pile of red-stained wash cloths on the counter. The busboy was chuckling and mopping the floor behind the girl. Against the far wall, hundreds of apple turnover boxes were stacked to the ceiling.
Calvin forced a smile and reached for his wallet. He handed her the money, noticing fresh blood under her sculptured but unpainted fingernails. She rang the register, watching Calvin out of the corner of her eye. He forced the smile wider, perspiration licking his upper lip. She handed him his change and a white paper bag.
"Thank you, sir. Please come again," she said with polite innocence.
"Thank you," Calvin replied. He looked into the bag. It was filled to the top with apple turnovers. He stared at them, blankly.
His eyes trailed back up to the girl. He noticed a name tag on her shirt that read Julie. She smirked at him, and her eyes suddenly glowed with a green fire. The girl motioned with her hand and Calvin’s car died.
Her mouth opened and was filled with jutting fangs. The girl reached her arms toward him, and green hair sprouted from them. The hair spread and consumed her flesh and those big eyes of hers behind the glasses grew even more large and lustful. The hands of the beast grabbed Calvin roughly by his shirt. The girl’s furry face shook as she howled and flung green spittle at him.
Calvin screamed and his hands flailed around in panic.
The green beast paused, and cocked its head curiously. It quaked and slipped back into the young girl’s skin.
“This one’s alive,” she said, relaxing her grip on Calvin.
The busboy stopped mopping. He leaned the stick against the wall and walked over. “No shit? I’ve never seen a live one.” The busboy had greasy hair and heavy acne. He stared in wonder at Calvin.
“You came under the overpass, didn’t you?” the girl said to Calvin.
Calvin quickly nodded an answer, hoping this gave him an exemption.
The Night is Long and Cold and Deep Page 21