Short Story - The Red Car (1/4)

The Red Car

I held a trembling arm out with my thumb pointed to the sky, sopping wet hair plastered to my forehead and blood rushing down my foot from the bite of a jagged rock. Wave after wave of cascading water scraped at my skin. My vision had begun to blur about ten minutes ago – I hoped it was just the rain, it was getting hard to tell. I shuddered in the empty darkness and howling wind. This road was no place for people. As the occasional car whizzed past me in the storm, I knew my opportunity for finding it was slim. But while the lone sign at the side of the road was faded, the surrounding trees and landscape were unchanged – this was the right place. I couldn’t miss it. I wouldn’t miss it. Numbness crept from my feet to my legs and the bitter chill forced me to dig my nails into the palm of my left hand, the stabbing pain a forceful and necessary reminder that I was still alive. How many hours had I been stood here? A sharp cramp stabbed my stomach as it growled desperately, but I gritted my teeth and massaged my thigh. I’d long convinced myself - I was staying until I saw the red car.

I was a mess. To anyone who drove past, I understood I must appear homeless or insane. No shoes, dripping wet from head to toe and trying to hitch a ride? They’d think me mad if they could even see me on the unlit and unkept sideroad. Despite a creeping numbness, the rain was a blessing sorely for the fact that it kept my drooping eyes from falling shut. For the last 3 nights I’d managed to keep them open. Just in case. I fumbled around my pocket, brushing the empty crisp packet that had been in there since yesterday morning. Only silver lining was that there was no mirror to show me the state I was in. But I needed to see it again, needed to see them again. I wheezed and spluttered in the rain, inaudible over the howling wind. My phone buzzed for the 68^th time. I fished out the screen with more than a little difficulty since my right arm was still pointed into the road. I tried uselessly to wipe the water from the screen on my sleeve and squinting at the small glowing block in my hand, I barely made out a string of messages over the 45 missed calls. They were all from Hazel. I scrolled through the list again careful not to open a single one with the most recent sent just 3 minutes ago.

Where are you?. The kids need you. [20:34]

 I need you. [20:37]

Don’t worry about the car. We just need you back home safe. [22:23]

 I hope you’re safe. [23:50]

I love you. [00:01]

Please come home Lawrence. [2:15]

[Hazel is typing…]

 

I put the phone back in my pocket with a trembling hand, the battery dwindling at 8%. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. They were waiting for me. If I could meet them again, I would be fixed. Then I’d be able to go back home. A car whizzed past, drenching me with filth as the dirty spray from the tarmac was flung into my face. I stayed still. Behind the frantic jitter of windscreen wipers I could almost imagine what was being said inside.

 

“Are we there yet?”

 

I had to pinch myself when a vehicle turned on its hazard lights and veered towards where I was standing like a lunatic. A full beam blinded me as it pulled over, coming to a steady halt. I scrambled towards it, convinced that they were finally here. When the figure stepped out of the car with hands over his head to protect himself from the rain, the engine hummed with a comforting growl. My blood and mud splattered feet tingled as they thudded on poorly maintained tarmac. My cheeks twisted into the first smile I’d worn in weeks. The blurry stranger stared at me, expression marred with worry and confusion, a hoarse shout over the wind and rain.

“What on earth are you doing out here all by yourself? Get in the car and we can take you somewhere warm!”

His voice was friendly and concerned, no doubt a good Samaritan coming to save me from my troubles. He wasn’t the one. My mouth dropped and my knees buckled, legs losing the will to keep standing. I fell to the ground and tore my jeans, a fresh bloody scrape marking my knee as I gripped the road. Head hung low, eyes pointed at the asphalt, my will began to crumble. I’d looked away from the road for the first time in hours. It wasn’t right. This wasn’t who I was looking for. Was I wasting my time? With an upwards glance my eyes focused on the vehicle which boasted a shell of dark navy blue, the rain pattering off the roof. I opened my mouth to respond to him, shocked at the dryness of my throat and the raspy croak that escaped my lips.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m where I need to be.” I cringed but carried on. “I do appreciate it though.”

The man stared at me blankly.

“Why are you trying to hitchhike if you’re already where you want to be? There’s nothing here.”

I tried searching for an answer that would make sense. Then I gave up. He would never believe me if I told him the truth.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I laughed miserably, glancing back at the road every now and then in a futile attempt to spot it – I was beginning to doubt my own sanity.

The man paused. He looked as if he was about to say something but seemed to decide against it. Instead, he rushed back to his car and spoke in a hurried voice to someone in the passenger seat. After a short back and forth, he looped round the back of the vehicle, rummaged around the loaded boot and withdrew a blanket and sturdy looking umbrella from under a pile of assorted camping gear. I was stunned by the man’s generosity as he walked towards me, things in hand, and placed them in my arms. He smiled slightly.

“I can’t pretend to know what you’re waiting for but hopefully this can at least make you a little more comfortable.”

He headed back towards the family car before I could stammer a word of thanks.

 

[END OF PART ONE]