In the Time of the Caveman

by Samantha Leal

  Miranda sat down on a chair in the waiting area and stared at the floor. She didn’t want to look around and accidentally catch the eye of a colleague who may have been passing through reception. She wanted to be in and out of there as inconspicuously as possible.

  “Miranda,” Jessica called over to her, “He said you can go through.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she got to her feet and hurried along the corridor to the partners’ rooms.

  The door creaked open and she knocked as she entered.

  “Miranda,” Mr. Blake said as he rose to his feet. “Can I help you?”

  “I know I’m supposed to be suspended Mr. Blake, but-“

  “Sit down, dear,” he said as he gestured to the chair in front of him.

  She took the seat and stared up at him.

  “You know I didn’t do this, and I just want to come back to work. It’s just awful having to go through of all of this.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said genuinely, “But protocol is protocol.”

  “But why?” she said, “No one else has been suspended, I don’t understand why I seem to have been chosen at random? You know I wasn’t the only person to see those files.”

  “Miranda,” he said with a sigh, “Someone provided evidence it was you…”

  “Who?” she snapped. “I’ll tell you who, the person who’s really guilty.”

  He lowered his head and turned his eyes up to meet hers. “We are investigating it… that’s all I can say for now.”

  “Am I going to be compensated when all of this comes out as being a big misunderstanding?”

  “If that is indeed the outcome, then yes, of course,” he said.

  “I just want to come back to work, Mr. Blake…” she said as the tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m innocent… I would never compromise one of our cases for the sake of a payoff from a journalist, and I know you know that.”

  He looked up at her with sympathy in his eyes. “I’m doing everything I can to make sure this is all resolved quickly,” he assured her. “I promise to be in touch as soon as I can.”

  He got to his feet and so did Miranda. She was glad she had had the opportunity to speak up after the initial shock of being told to leave the office the previous week, but she was also totally frustrated that he wasn’t just welcoming her back with open arms.

  As she walked down the corridor and made her way through reception, she smiled weakly at Jessica and crossed to the elevator. She needed something to cheer her up. And fast.

  3.

  Ice cream was her usual go-to when she was feeling down, and she knew the exact place to find what had been affectionately dubbed “Food Porn” by her and her friends when it had opened. Sundaes was a fifties-style diner in the middle of Main Street and only served the most wicked of treats. Miranda walked there quickly, and as she opened the door a bell jingled above her head. She smiled at the boy who was serving and perused the menu.

  All of them, she thought. I literally want all of them.

  After she had ordered her mega, chocolate fudge and fruit-topped sundae, she sat by the window and looked out as the world walked by. She pushed the ice cream around in the glass and found it impossible to enjoy.

  “God, if this isn’t working, I really am fucked,” she said aloud.

  A woman at the table next to her smiled and said, “I hear you there.”

  Miranda laughed and realized it was the first time she had in a whole week. Her phone vibrated on the table, and she looked down to see a text from Ryan:

  R: Where are you Babe? I got out of work early.

  M: I’m at Sundaes, you coming over?

  R: Yup, be there in two.

  Even though she didn’t really want to see him, she needed to talk to someone and really, he was all she had.

  Less than ten minutes later, the door jingled and Ryan entered, his scrawny arms swinging down by his side.

  “What’s happening?” he said, “How come you’re not at home?” He looked at her up and down and scrunched up his face, “You look like you’ve been to a funeral,” he snorted.

  “Well, I feel like I have, too,” she said as she took a bite of the ice cream.

  “What?” he said with irritation.

  “My own…” she laughed. “Just… Well, I went to see Mr. Blake to try and clear all of this mess up.”

  “Jeez, Miranda,” he whistled and pulled the sundae out of her hands and began to eat it himself. “Just fucking leave it… they want to set you up, you don’t need that place.”

  “Well, I can’t just sit around the apartment all day, can I, Ryan?” She reached back for the ice cream, but he pulled it further away.

  “Why not?” he said. “Fuck those guys,” he shook his head and laughed. “Anyway… I like having you at home… One hundred percent dedicated to me.” He looked at her and grinned with menace in his eyes.

  Within an instant, an ice-cold wave washed over her. It was him. He had made the whole thing up to get her fired… The twisted bastard was getting out of control.

  “Ryan…” she said slowly, “Please tell me you didn’t do this to me?”

  He rested the spoon down on the side and tried to take hold of her hands, but she wriggled free and glared at him.

  “Like I said, babe, fuck that place. I like you being at home looking after me, okay?”

  “What the hell!” She got to her feet, and the chair screeched back on its legs. “You’re supposed to be the one person I can trust, and you’re trying to ruin my life! What is wrong with you!” She grabbed her jacket and barged out of the diner, bashing into a teenage kid as she rushed down the street.

  Within seconds, Ryan was behind her, grabbing at her shoulders.

  “Don’t touch me,” she spat, “Just get out of my life!”

  He dug his fingers into her and pulled her down a side street before pushing her up against a wall. He had a rage in his eyes that she had only seen once before, the night he had lost control and lashed out at her.

  “Don’t speak to me like that,” he said as he held his finger up in a warning. “I’m just looking out for you, babe, okay?”

  She tried to wriggle out of his arms, but he held her still and whispered in her ear, “If you speak to me like that again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  Her skin prickled in terror, and she stopped struggling. She knew when she had to give in. She’d lost this battle for sure. Somehow, she had been so naïve and stupid, blinded by dumb love that she had let this psychopath in too far. He had her in his clutches, and he was already ripping her apart.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered into his neck, “I won’t do it again.”

  “Good,” he said pulling back and smiling at her, “Now let’s go home and you can cook me dinner.”

  4.

  She watched him from the other side of the room as she stood by the stove. He had his feet up on her couch and was watching her TV. She shuddered. He was so vile and repulsive and now, after making the discovery that it was him that had caused her all this heartache and trouble with her job, she just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

  “Pass me another beer, babe,” he called over to her as he belched and scratched the back of his neck.

  There was no way she was staying here with him another minute. She wracked her brain for someone she could call for help, but she couldn’t think of anyone who could take her in as quickly as she needed. She had lost touch with almost all of her local friends and her parents lived a day’s drive away.

  She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer before twisting off the top and passing it to Ryan. He took it from her without saying thank you, and she returned to the stove. Her cell phone was in front of her and she quickly picked it up, opened her search browser and typed “hotels with vacancy near me.” The results popped up instantaneously, but they didn’t look good. She had been hoping the bigger, chain hotel would have a room, but it was fully booked and there was a conference listed o
n its news page.

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  Small town syndrome struck again and the only other option she had without needing a car was an old, dilapidated motel on the outskirts of town. She knew the place, but she had never considered going there… especially alone. Psycho sprang to mind. She knew she didn’t have a choice. It was either flee to Bates Motel or whatever it was called or stay put and deal with Ryan who was peeling back the fabric of her life one twisted layer at a time. She knew the answer was a simple one. She pressed BOOK NOW and made a reservation.

  ***

  As she had anticipated, Ryan was passed out drunk well before 9pm. He lay on the couch with beer bottles scattered around him. His mouth flopped open and a trail of spit lolled from it as he snored and rattled. Miranda stood by the doorway, watching him. She hadn’t packed much. She was pretty certain he wouldn’t wake until the morning or at least the middle of the night, and he’d probably be too stunned to know what to do immediately. She had at least until 8am to relax, and then she would move on to the next phase of her plan…calling her parents and getting them to come for her. Mom and Dad, to the rescue. She could hide out in the hotel until they got to her. She didn’t think Ryan was smart enough to come looking for her there, and even if he did, she was going to check in using a fake name.

  She walked through the dark streets clutching her purse. She’d left with the bare minimum, and she was still wearing the dress and jacket “funeral” combo from earlier in the day that she had felt so powerful in when she’d initially left the apartment. How much things could change in a matter of hours.

  The streets were quiet except for a rowdy group of guys hanging around the bars as she approached Main Street. She made a left instantly and continued up the hill. It wasn’t much further, but as her heels clipped in her court shoes, they began to ache with each step. She rounded another corner, and she could see it, up high and barely lit, its old sign swinging in the warm night air. It was on the edge of the road that went out of town and by the looks of things, a couple of the rooms were occupied. Dull lights shone within them and the neon sign out front buzzed VACANCY. She was glad she wasn’t going to be there alone, but at the same time she worried who she may be sharing the building with.

  ***

  The lady at the desk was quiet and unassuming. Miranda told her that her name was Veronica and that she was just passing through. She didn’t recognize the lady, which was strange for a town as small as hers, and she figured not many locals would be anywhere near the place with its sole purpose being to provide a rest stop for truckers and other people making their way to somewhere else. The lady passed her the key and pointed out of the main door and down to the left. The building was old and rickety with a selection of sheds that had been changed into rooms.

  “You can be out there or in the house,” the lady said. “Or we have a separate building out back, quieter and further back from the road.” She eyed Miranda.

  “Yes, that one,” Miranda said, “I’m a light sleeper.”

  The lady took her out back and down a small, winding path. The lights to the building were already on, and when the lady stopped in front of it, Miranda found herself looking around and running her hands up the crumbling exterior walls.

  “What is this?” she asked, “It looks ancient, like a coach house or something…”

  “Don’t know,” the lady snapped. “It came with the house.”

  She nodded to Miranda and made her way back down the path. Miranda felt creeped out. It was almost completely dark out there and she could hear bats squeaking above her. She pushed the door open and made her way inside. It was one of the strangest buildings she had ever been in… it was like stepping back in time. She quickly realized that the light she had seen from the outside was coming from candles that were lit in sconces all around the edge of the room. The floor was a thick grey stone and so were the walls. It was cold in there and the bed was old and wooden. She sat down on the edge of it and instantly regretted her decision to try and hide even further out of sight… there was no way Ryan was going to come looking at the motel… she would have been just fine in the house or up at the front in the main residential building. She sighed and lay back. She was instantly jabbed in the back by a spring from the mattress.

  “Urgh,” she said, “Great.”

  She got to her feet and decided to explore. She was tired and felt emotionally drained, but she didn’t think there was much chance of her sleeping in this weird place. It was like something out of a horror movie, and she could easily imagine ghosts creeping out of the dark alcoves the second her back was turned. The thought made her shudder.

  As she was checking out the very odd bathroom in the corner, she turned and noticed an old wooden doorway in the main room, shielded by a screen. She squinted at first to make sure she wasn’t imagining it, but as her eyes adjusted, she knew it was really there.

  She crossed the room and stared at it. It was huge and very old, and it looked like it was from another time entirely. It had a big knocker, and it looked like it weighed a ton. Miranda looked behind her, suddenly aware that she was in a strange place and she hadn’t locked the door. She looked back to the one in front of her and reached for the handle.

  Just open it and see what’s inside, then you can get yourself to bed, she thought. She was frightened that a vagrant may be lurking behind it, ready to pounce out on her in the night and stab her in her sleep. She breathed in deeply and pulled down hard. The handle moved and the door began to creep open. A blast of icy air hit her and she stepped forward, peering into the darkness. She couldn’t see anything in front of her, and it was like the world had stopped existing right there in that tiny corner of the room, behind the big olden door.

  “Hello?” she whispered, expecting to be able to tell where the closet began and ended, but her voice drifted off, as if carried by the wind. She took another step, her feet connecting with ice cold ground. And then another. And then all of a sudden the floor seemed to give way beneath her and she was falling through black and white flashing space. She tried to scream… But there was no sound.

  5.

  She could smell the crisp burning of wood, and a fire crackled near her. She wasn’t cold anymore and wherever she was was comfortable and warm. She could hear a woman’s voice, soft and different to any she had ever heard before. She had an accent. She was talking about horses and the king. Miranda pulled the fluffy sheets around her and buried her head into the pillow.

  What is happening…? she thought. Her head was pounding, and she reached up and touched a large bump on her forehead.

  “She’s awake,” the woman’s voice came closer. “Look, she moves.”

  She sounded British or Australian, but Miranda couldn’t decide which. The accent wasn’t a classic one that she had heard before and as she blinked and opened her eyes slowly, her blood ran cold.

  “It’s alright,” the woman said, leaning towards her, “Don’t worry, dear, you’re safe here.”

  Miranda jumped up and looked around the room. She was in old bedroom, stone walls and floor, covered in wolf pelt rugs, and a fire crackled and glowed in the corner, casting shadows across the room. The woman could only have been around forty, but she looked frail and strange. Her hair tumbled down her back, and she wore old robes, like something out of a strange medieval TV show. She came closer to Miranda and rested her hand on her arm and smiled. Her teeth were gammy and jet black.

  “What’s happening?” Miranda shouted, as she pulled the sheet tightly around her. She realized she was dressed in a long cotton robe with frilled cuffs.

  “You’ve had an accident, dear,” she said, “You were found out in the woods by the one of the King’s Knights.”

  “What?” she demanded. “Is this a joke… did Ryan put you up to this?” She tried to get to her feet and stumbled as she did.

  “Shh,” the woman said, crowding over her and trying to get her back into bed. “You need to rest, you’ve had a trauma
to the head.”

  Miranda reached up and rubbed her forehead, the lump there was swollen and sore. She winced as she touched it and the woman slapped her hand away.

  “I’m one of the King’s nurses,” she said, “I’ve been instructed to look after you.”

  “I… come on…” Miranda said. “You can drop the act… Just let me out and I’ll go back and see Ryan… leaving him in my apartment was silly, anyway.”

  The woman looked at her as if she were insane. She shook her head and passed her some warm water.

  “Close your eyes,” she whispered, “I’m going to find him.”

  She left Miranda in the bed and made her way to the door, and when she opened it Miranda could see a man on the other side wearing what she thought was a full chain mail suit and brandishing a sword as if he was guarding the room. Miranda looked around again… she definitely was not in the motel… where had the door taken her? It was as if she had gone back in time.

  Moments later, she heard footsteps coming up the corridor outside the room. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.

  “She’s very confused,” the woman’s voice drifted through. “She is saying things, strange things… Are you sure she isn’t a witch?”

  A man laughed and began to speak, “No, she isn’t a witch,” he said calmly, “I remember her, she’s a good friend from my childhood. Now let me in, I must speak with her.”

  The door to the room opened and a tall, handsome man with sandy blonde hair and full metal armor stepped through the doorway.

  “Miranda,” he said softly, “You’re awake.”

  She sat up and swallowed. She was frightened and didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t want to anger anyone with the wrong thing… And the more she was seeing of her new surroundings, the more she wasn’t sure if this was real… No hoax could be this good, especially one crafted by Ryan.