Places In Time

Driving during the middle of the night meant relatively light traffic. I was winding through the narrow streets leading to Jude’s beach house when I thought I saw a figure in the center of the road. By the time my brain registered the fact that it wasn’t just a shadow from the streetlights, I was almost on top of it. I slammed on the brakes, jerked forward in my seat, came to a screeching halt, and looked up. There was nothing in front of me.

“Shit, shit, shit. Did I just hit somebody?” I threw my door open, stumbled out of my car, and hurried to the hood. There was nothing there.

“Come on, Ethan. It’s time to go.”

I spun around so fast I got dizzy. Where in the hell did that oddly lyrical voice come from? There, in the front seat of my car, sat a smiling red-haired woman.

“Uh, who are you?” I asked as I took a few hesitant steps toward her.

Freckles, dimples, a long flowery dress. She didn’t look dangerous, more like hippie-chic.

“I’m your guide,” she said as if it made all the sense in the world.

“My guide?” I climbed back into the driver’s seat of my car, not stopping to wonder why on earth I’d voluntarily get into a closed space with a stranger. A stranger who’d seemingly appeared out of nowhere and let herself into my vehicle uninvited.

“Yes. We’re going on a trip, Ethan. Buckle up. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

“What do you—” My car suddenly lurched forward of its own accord. “What the hell?” I yelled.

“I did suggest buckling up, dear.” It almost sounded like she was singing. I couldn’t decide if her voice was beautiful or annoying. Regardless, I grappled for my seat belt and got it secured. My car continued driving without any assistance from me.

“What’s happening? Am I having some sort of a mental breakdown? Where are we going? How are we going?”

“You sure like to ask questions, don’t you, Ethan?”

No, actually, I didn’t. I generally wasn’t much of a talker at all unless it was scripted. But this situation seemed to warrant a different approach from my usual MO. I opened my mouth to demand an explanation from my kidnapper, but she beat me to it.

“Well, here we are. Are you ready?”