by ÆGEON DAVIS
“Lorie!” Erica said.
Just before I could react and try not to show that I was taking in an eyeful, she swung her arms around my neck and picked herself up, wrapping her legs around me. She was lighter than a pint of oil and I couldn’t help but wrap my hands on either side of her waist and go with the motion of spinning her on the spot.
She giggled from the movement and I laughed as I put her down. “Hey there, silly.”
“I’m so glad you made it,” Erica said, her attention distracted by the vehicle behind me. “And what is this?”
My mind snapped back from her embrace. “Ah, this. My dad called it the TesLorean. He left it to me. It’s a hybrid of a Tesla and a—”
“A TesLorean!” She squealed and ran her hands along the grainy stainless-steel construction. “Amazing.”
And just before she could ask me another question about it, her eyes turned and she came closer, then pulled me into another hug. I could smell her hair which reminded me of strawberry fields or a description on the back of a Vidal Sassoon shampoo bottle. My hands fell to her waist like they’d always wanted to growing up.
“I’m sorry about your dad, Lorie,” she whispered.
My heart galloped as she comforted me. Although losing my father was heartbreaking, I felt a sense of guilt I wasn’t more broken up about it. Sometimes I wonder if it was because I’d not seen him in so long.
“Thanks,” I said.
And just as my heart returned to a normal rhythmic pattern, it then shot into my throat as I saw one of the largest, ugliest men make eye contact from the bar entrance. He was the same as I remembered him.
As he stepped from the door, his slicked-back, black as oil hair fell down over his narrowed eyebrows. Jealousy was painted all over him, and I felt adrenaline surge through my body as I recalled when he used to bully me.
“Hey there, Grease Monkey,” Tommy said as he pulled a cigarette out and puff it to smoky fruition. “You gonna’ let me do a test drive?”
I was quiet as I let go of Erica and watched her turn away from me. They had dated years ago, and I suspected they were not now. At least, I hoped they weren’t, as I was just grabbing all over his girl.
“Don’t worry about him, Lorie,” Erica said, acknowledging the threatened look on my face. “We broke up last week.”
Jesus Christ. Last week? My brain agreed with how my heart felt. This guy was a loser and Erica deserved better than him.
“Come on, Grease,” Tommy said in his best Biff impression. “I assume your insurance will cover anything I break.”
I rolled my eyes at his arrogance. “Nice call back, Tommy, but I don’t go by that anymore.”
Disregarding my comment, he puffed his rolled cancer stick as he stepped aside.
He had been a dick in high school, and he was even more of a douche bag now. His eyes undressed Erica as she walked past him. The thought of having his hands on her gave me the creeps. I just hope he didn’t have a wild hair up his ass tonight and wanted to fight. That was the last thing I needed right now.
Walking into the Twin, the smell of stale beer and sweet candy filled my nose. The Twin was like run down cantina with part of a convenience store in the back half. A full bar ran the length in the back with a small tattered red awning above it which contrasted under the hundreds of dollar bills tacked onto it. These bills were marked the memories of the patrons that had come here over the years and signed their names on them.
My eyes scanned the back of the room for those sweet delicate Hostess shelf containing my all-time favorite snack. And there it is. I walked over, darting my eyes around the disgusting Snowballs, then their close cousin-like Cupcakes, and finally the fucking Twinkies took front and center. No Zingers. Only Twinkies. The world was coming shit, I thought.
Erica pulled me to the corner where a circular high-top table stood in the center of several rickety wooden chairs. As I sat down, she handed me a cold beer and a shot, to which I digested. The warm liquor filled my belly and immediately made me feel better. Next to us, the wall was filled with autographed pictures of celebrities that had never visited. It was a façade I had grown to like when I came here with my father. We would spend hours just quoting our favorite lines from movies.
Just in front of the pictures, and next to the windows, I saw a trophy and pictures that jolted me from my seat. I stood from my stool and approached what looked like a memorandum. The pictures became clearer as I rubbed my eyes, letting the soft features of my father fill my head. It was him.
Adorned in a full racing gear, holding a prize cup next to two booth babes, he smiled. He’d won NASCAR in his younger years. That was before he met my mother and had a family. A course that would change his life—his career path—from grandiose to mundane. My expression turned from bright to solemn in a split second.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. As I turned, Erica’s eyes met mine with warmth and a half smile only my uncle could exude better. She placed her arm around me and gazed at the pictures of him.
“He was a great man,” Erica said.
“He was…” I said, letting memories fill my head of his mundane life after the event in the picture. “Sometimes I felt like we were holding him back.”
“Lorie, he loved the Banana Peel Track,” Erica said.
“But he could have been more,” I said, letting all my feeling go. “He could have been great.”
“But then he had you, Grease Monkey,” a voice said from the doorway. Tommy cracked a smile and headed for the bar.
I followed Erica to the door where we watched the old dusty road. The apple orchard trees swayed in the spring-time breeze. It was beautiful to the eye, but that all went to shit when I saw a familiar red pickup trunk zoom by at ninety miles an hour.
“Isn’t that your uncle?” Erica asked.
My gut turned inside out just as two police cruiser sailed past in pursuit of the truck. My brain spun, contemplating what they would do if they caught him. He was all I had left in my family.
My instincts kicked in and I ran to the Teslorean. The door flung open before I got there, and I immediately jumped in the bucket seat. It needed no starting, as the car came alive as soon as I stepped on the brake. I pulled the door down. Erica was just a few feet from me ,and I spotted Tommy behind her. I thought for a moment what I was about to do. Risk everything for my Uncle and leave Erica there with that asshole.
The Teslorean’s battery was still heated from before. I slammed the accelerator and whipped out of the gravel parking lot. The Teslorean got up to speed with no problem once the tires met the actual road. I felt the speed throw me back, and I swerved back and forth from the force before correcting my steering. I glanced ahead and could hear the the police sirens filling the passing orchards. I wasn’t far behind.
My mind raced as I sped toward them. I didn’t have a clue of what I would do. My uncle must have gotten too drunk with his buds and was now trying to evade the police. He wasn’t thinking right, and I needed to talk to him. I glanced over the screen, noticing a button with the insignia of a talking head. I tapped it while a voice interpreting software sprang up.
“Who would you like to call?” the sultry voice asked.
I gawked at easy accessibility of the system and then said, “Call Uncle Pete.”
Uncle Pete’s picture popped up along with a wavelength interface that pulsed with each ring.
“Lorie?” Uncle Pete said. His voice was hoarse, and I could now hear the sirens from the speaker.
“What are you doing?” I screamed into the display panel.
“Lorie, they got me,” Uncle Pete pleaded. “Damn police were waiting for me outside the bar. Took em’ only a minute before they were behind me and lighting me up.”
“That’s goddamn entrapment!” I yelled, edging closer to the high-speed vehicles. It was only a matter of time before they would notice the stylish, grey, exotic-looking car pulling up behind them.
“Listen, Uncle,” I said. “Slow down, and
I’ll get their attention.”
Uncle Pete guffawed in laughter. “Damn hell, Lorie. Just like Smokey and the Bandit?”
I tried to chuckle at his enthusiasm, but could not muster the excitement. Besides, I had seen Smokey and the Bandit twenty times with my dad growing up. The story of bootlegging in a semi and drawing highway patrol away with a fast car was a classic. Time to show him what I learned.
“You betcha’. Just like Smokey and the Bandit.”
I floored the accelerator while my foot searched for a clutch and my hand went for the gearshift. For an instant I was caught off guard, and since I couldn’t find the controls, the car rocketed past the police officers in seconds. As I passed, I could feel their looks of astonishment.
“Uncle,” I said, whipping in behind my uncle’s truck, between him and the ensuing police. “Slow down now and take the next turn into the apple orchard.”
“Got it,” he confirmed.
My Uncle slowed down, and I hit the brakes, which pushed the police back. The rusty, old, red truck sailed ahead. One of the police officers tried to go around me, but I swerved into the shoulder of the road and back across the other lane. Plumes of dust undulated behind me and obscured their vision. Just then, my uncle made the turn.
I decelerated, keeping the police behind me. I only hoped that I pissed them off enough for them to keep their attention on me. I hit the brakes and the two highway state troopers skidded behind me. They exited their vehicles and drew out their guns.
“Get out of the car!” one officer yelled out.
I eyed them from the side- and rear-view mirror, having them just where I wanted them. They were each planted behind a door, as if to use it as a shield. I opened my driver-side door and the gull-wing swung open. The police were calling in codes to their precinct, and I stalled a little more to give my Uncle the time he needed to get away.
More sirens wailed down the road in front of me. I was cut off from both ends now; I needed to outrun them and somehow dodge the upcoming squad of police cars.
“Get out of the car and lay down on the ground with your hands above your head!” came another order from the standing officers.
I slid my hand to the center console display and touched a button that read ‘Autopilot.’ Tesla had been developing an automatic driving system for years, and it had just been approved by regulators for use on the road. In that moment, I hoped my Dad made some improvements for what I needed to do right at that moment.
I stuck my hands into the air and stepped out the vehicle. My heart was galloping into my throat as I saw the angry highway patrol pointing nine-millimeter Glock pistols at me. The officer in the back was younger than the other, and I could see the fear in his eyes.
“There’s been a mistake, officer,” I yelled out, trying to keep my shaky voice at bay while I quoted one of my favorite movie lines. “It wasn’t me It was the one-armed man.”
“Get the fuck on the ground!” the lead officer said, now stepping out of the door. For a moment, I could recognize his pointy face. Joe Moats became a police officer, who knew.
“Holy shit, Joe? Is that you?” I asked, dropping to my knees.
“Lorie?”
The lead officer turned a shade of white hearing his own name, and I knew this was my moment. As he looked back to the younger officer behind him, I shot to my feet and escaped into the orchard. Gun shots rang out or, what I thought was gun shots, turned out to be branches cracking under my feet.
I swung myself behind a tree, watching the rest of the police squad roll up in front of the TesLorean. I pulled the key fob out and raised the device to my mouth. The police were gathering, barking orders with guns drawn as they entered the orchard looking for me.
“Engage summon mode,” I whispered.
The Teslorean began to drive forward. The police turned their guns around and aimed at the driverless car rolling toward them.
“What the fuck?” one officer yelled out. “There’s no one in it.”
The Teslorean, with one gull-wing door open still, steady drove past them, and I tried not to squeal in laughter when I saw the look on their faces.
“Faster,” I said into the key fob.
“Would you like me to enact Rescue Mode?” a voice said from the FOB.
Rescue Mode? It seemed my father had been up to more than just building a dream car.
“Enable Rescue Mode!” I exclaimed as loudly as I could without giving away my position.
The TesLorean ripped up the sticks and dirt , spewing a cloud of dust and debris onto the impending officers. The car spun around and hit the brakes. I gripped the steering wheel, and the door closed in perfection. This car was a fucking beast, I thought.
The officers were still waving the dust from their eyes when I met with them head on. Without hesitation, I floored the accelerator and the car made a high pitched hum as it ripped the soil behind me. The police agents had no time to react as I reached sixty miles an hour in two point four seconds. Each officer dove into surrounding trees.
I whipped onto the road as the officers flailed to their vehicles to catch me. I looked down at the speedometer as I met ninety miles an hour, then one hundred. The Tesla motors, from what I read, had a top speed of only one hundred fifty-five miles per hour. My thrill-seeking mind could help but wonder just how fast my father had made this machine. Now was the time to test it.
The police sirens and flashing lights began to disappear in my rear view when I hit one fifty-five. At breakneck speeds, I could feel every large groove in the road, the car now skipping skipping into the air with each bump.
I watched the center console display the car from the top down, side, and back. Indicators and sensors showed how the car was performing and adapting to the road and high speeds. One hundred eighty-eight miles per hour hit, and I saw the bend in the road ahead. Could I reach two hundred?
Blue light shot from the center console in a streaking-star pattern. The disorientating light was hypnotic and my hand slipped from the wheel. I over corrected in trying to keep myself on the road, but it was too late, as a blinding white light and feel of radiating heat caressed my face. In that moment, I felt a sense of peace. Like my father was there watching me from above.
The bend in the road was seconds away. Tunnel vision ensued, and I watched the frunk, remembering the things my father packed for us on a trip. I closed my eyes, unsure of what to expect. Part of me wanted to leave this world and part of me wished to see my father again.
5
Planet Cauldron
My mind was groggy. I opened my eyes to see myself slumped in the driver’s seat of the TesLorean. The steering wheel was correcting itself, driving to what looked like a large rocky canyon. The brown hazy sky transitioned to a delicate purple blotted with small dots that seemed to move ever so slowly. I would have suspected the objects were moons if they weren’t blinking every few seconds.
I adjusted my position to get a better picture and took hold of the steering wheel pulling off the main road to what looked like a gargantuan canyon. The ravine was larger than anything I had seen. What looked like green and red rock revealed itself to be bits of junk, like a valley of recycled materials. Whoever created this place had embellished every few sections with connecting arches of the same material, almost acting as markers.
The center console display screen flashed and read ‘Low Battery’. As the car rolled to a deadened stop I tried to remember what had happened, but the events were still a blur. I recalled helping my uncle and getting away from the police, but after that it was blank.
VWOOOOOOSH!
A flare of white and blue tore past me. My body jolted back trying to catch the quickness of whatever shot by. And then, unexpectedly, another sound built from behind me.
VWOOOOOOSH VWOOOOOOSH VWOOOOOOSH!
Three more streaks of blue rocketed past me again. What the hell? I’d spent my fair share of days at the racing track, but this was at faster speeds than my eye could discern. I placed
my hand on the door handle, hesitant to open it. What if this was some kind of alien world where the air was different? I’d seen many movies where the hero would fall into an alien atmosphere only to have his eyes pulled from his sockets. It was never a good sight, and it was the last thing I wanted.
Just past a bluff ahead, I spotted a slight movement. It was like if the rock was moving on its own. The rock changed as it passed over the surround terrain around it. Like it was some kind of rat using Predator-type cloaking technology. I couldn’t believe my mind as the creature seemed to saunter its way to a small puddle of water and drank from it.
Water.
Well, that was a good sign. Pete had told me one reason Mars had no water on its surface was because of the lack of atmospheric pressure. The same lack of atmospheric pressure that would suck my eyeballs from their sockets. It worked just like the radiator coolant system of a combustible engine. With the cap on, the water would flow to various parts, cooling the engine, but if you release the cover, which changes the pressure, the water boils away.
I opened the door and swung the falcon door up. The gush of warm air was salty and almost bitter to my tongue. It was like being right on the coast, which meant I had to be close to an ocean. That also told me I was fucked and not in Chicago anymore, since Lake Michigan was a freshwater lake.
VWOOOOOOSH!
“Holy shit!” I yelped as another group of flashes screamed by me.
My head was spinning. I took a step forward and felt the grainy bits of dirt encompass my shoe. It felt like sand, but when I looked closer I didn’t see grains of tiny rocks, like a beach or desert would be composed of. As I knelt down, I felt the small bits of what resembled plastic.
“A plastic world?” I uttered to myself.
I rose to my feet and looked back to where the blurry swooshes of motion were coming from. The lack of indention of any kind and defied any logic a sandy track would have. Perhaps it wasn’t a raceway, but something in my gut screamed that is was a track.
As I stumbled farther to the center, I thought I saw something in the distance. Pulsing lights of red and blue gave me the shivers, as it only reminded me of the chasing highway patrol.