The Magician's Assistant

[12] Possessed Truck

Chapter Twelve:

          My body relaxed in bed the entire next day. I sat under the covers and watched Disney movies for a good portion of it, only getting up to gather snacks and store them up in my bedroom. In a strange way, I was like a squirrel.

          During the credits of Beauty and the Beast, I began planning what I would do when I approached William. I could tell him ‘Ruth mentioned there was a rehearsal and told me to see if you were here at the park’.

          Another option was to say ‘Ruth said you’d be here, mind if I tag along?’ Though, I wasn’t sure if that was the best idea. That was instilling the idea that I was perfectly O.K. with his drug habits and friends.

          Obviously, I wasn’t.

          James still hadn’t made an appearance. What had worried me the most was that I hadn’t gotten another sign from him. A lot could’ve changed in twenty-four hours. He was fine then, but I hated to think of all the rotten possible things he could be going through.

          Almost exactly twenty-four hours, I noted, glancing at the digital clock on my end table. It was seven o’clock P.M.

          Withholding a frustrated groan, I tossed the remains of my clothing onto the floor of my bedroom. Shirts and pants were splayed in every direction, seemingly seeping from every corner.

          “This is ridiculous,” I mumbled to myself, yanking a stray flyaway hair behind my ear. “I don’t need to dress up to impress anyone! They’re potheads!”

          With this new resolve, I slipped into a comfy pair of neon green calf-length sweatpants. I tossed on a short sleeve shirt and snatched a gray sweatshirt from the towering pile. Without bothering to put make-up on, I walked through the front door and into my vehicle.

          Both my mother and father were gone at work, so there was no one that I had to answer to about leaving. That, at least, was a relief.

          The haunting silence on the way to the park caused a shiver to run along my spine. My fingers stretched over to the ‘ON’ button to switch on the radio. All that could be heard was static, no matter which station I changed it to.

My mind must have been in some sort of fog, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have let myself get so preoccupied with things other than driving safely on the road.

          My lips pressed into a thin line and with a huff of air, I turned the radio off. If that wasn’t going to work, I guess I’d have to resort to CD’s. I slowed down my speed on the mainly empty street and dug around the floor of the truck for appropriate music.

          When my hands wrapped around a CD that I wanted, I undid the case and slipped the disc into the slot. I waited for the first track to begin playing. When it didn’t, my eyes narrowed in on the slot.

          ERROR

          Blue letters blinked on the screen, signaling that something was wrong with the disc or the player. Frustrated, I turned on the lights in the front seat. I ejected the disc and examined the back which was scratch-free.

          “Oh, come on,” I mumbled, “Don’t tell me something’s wrong with my truck.”

          The second the words tumbled out of my mouth, the sound of my engine failing caused my lips to form a small ‘o’. The wheels slowed down and the lights in the front seat immediately dimmed out.