Short Story - The Red Car (4/4)

 

I remember that old journey well. It was the summer holidays for Catie, and I was supposed to be starting school soon – we were headed on a short family trip away. Dad got a puncture on the motorway. He had to change out the tire on the side of the road as the cars whizzed past. He probably didn’t fit it properly – that must have been what caused the crash.

I had started to think I was delusional after waiting for hours, the relentless assault of wind and rain a cruel test. I’d finally made it to that same road but was no closer to speaking with them. I was a wreck. The kind stranger had settled back into his car, children in the back peering through the back window as he indicated and set off.

That was when it finally arrived.

With a flat tire, it rolled up behind me, the headlights flickering in rain and inky blackness. I staggered over to the driver’s door, hands shaking, glad to finally bring everything to an end. Dad opened the door and pulled me into a loving hug. His grip was much tighter than I remembered. His breath was cold on my neck.

 

“You’re finally home.”

 

Hazel filed a missing person’s report for Lawrence with the police, having received no news from him for over two days. A search was issued, but after months of looking eventually all hope of finding him was given up. She was left to reflect on the strange series of events that had preceded his disappearance. It all began with that red car he used to mention. She put her head on the desk, tears welling up in her eyes as Chris ran around the living room making a racket. He still thought his Daddy was on a work trip abroad. The office window was open – something was burning in the distance. If she’d have looked up, she’d have seen a child’s hand hanging out of the window of a car as it passed the house. It waved at her as the vehicle trundled by.

 

[End]