by Mia Perry
The whole world becomes absolutely quiet. I can hear my heart beating. I manage to steer my car to the shoulder and push the hazard lights button.
Now what? I’m panicked. The temperature in the car is dropping fast. If I don’t get the engine started quickly, the car is going to become a freezer real soon.
I push the gas a few times. Then, I step all the way down. I pray for every god I know to help, bite my lower lip tightly, and then turn the key.
The engine roars. I let go the gas pedal slowly. Suddenly, it stalls. I try again. The same happens. After a while, I stop trying. I worry the battery may die completely. I want to have the lights on so people driving by may see me.
Am I expecting people to stop and help? I really don’t know. I know I can’t stay for long in a car with no heat. However, what will happen if a man sees a girl stuck in a little car? In my dictionary, man equals pain. I don’t trust them at all.
Should I call someone for help? I don’t have a Triple A coverage. You don’t have to tell me it’s dirt cheap. I used to think a BMW was dirt cheap, too. I didn’t buy the coverage because that little amount of money had to satisfy another financial need with a much higher priority.
So, naturally, my next option is to get a tow truck, right? How much that’s going to cost in a remote area like this? Three hundred bucks? Four hundred? Do you think the piece of junk they are going to tow is worth a half of the cost? No way.
Should I call my roommate then? Maybe her bra is still on the floor at the moment. I don’t think she bothers putting it on after fucking my boyfriend.
My last option is to call my mother. I really don’t want to. But it’s getting really cold. My whole body is shivering. The car is now as cold as outside.
I pull out my iPhone. Oops. It’s all dark. I push the power button. Nothing happens. I know what happened. I watched a movie on my iPhone yesterday and killed the battery completely.
A shock of fear rushes down my spine and then spreads through my whole body in a nanosecond. My mind turns all blank. Am I going to die? Life is not fair to me but I don’t want to die just yet. I want to go to Miami and start a new life. God, please give me one more day to go south.
I hold my body tight. It doesn’t help at all. The air is turning foggy by my breath. My nostrils become tight. The cold air I breathe in turns into ice. My whole body is shaking really badly. I know I can’t hold on for much longer.
Maybe I should move my body? I stretch my arms and legs. It doesn’t help at all. Should I do some exercise outside to warm up? I roll down the window a little bit and give up the idea right away. The cold air cuts into my face like sharp knives.
I turn the headlights on, hoping someone driving by will stop to help. I no longer worry if they are going to hurt me.
I turn the heat on. The air coming out is ice-cold. I don’t know how long it takes to heat up. So I turn it off.
I see headlights in the far distance. But it’s on the opposite side of the highway. A big truck passes by slowly. Why would any idiot head north in such a crazy weather?
Finally, I saw headlights coming from the north. “Please, come and stop by,” I stare into the rear mirror, hoping… The headlights move closer and closer. And then they disappear completely.
Did it get stuck, too? Or did it exit the highway? I have no clue. And I couldn’t care less.
I feel as if my whole body is turning into a Popsicle. I hold my body tightly. The world is turning fuzzy. I see fluffy snowflakes everywhere, but nothing else.
I close my eyes. Slowly, I feel relaxed. I no longer feel cold. I see a brand-new world. It’s quiet and peaceful. No snow. No highway. Nothing…
I hear tapping on the window. I open my eyes. It takes me a few moments to realize I’m in a car, not in my dorm room. The glass is foggy. I can barely see a smiling face outside. It’s a guy.
Chapter Four
I roll down the window a little bit. The cold air blew in. “You okay?” the guy asks.
I shake my head.
“Do you need help?”
I nod.
“Can I come in?”
I open the door and roll to the passenger side. I don’t worry about the safety or privacy at all at the moment. This can be my last opportunity to survive. Seriously.
The guy comes in and closes the door right away. “Oh, shit! This is cold.”
I’m shaking like the hell, “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Can I try it?” he asks.
I nod, still shaking all over.
He steps on the gas a few times and then turns the key. Nothing happens. “Shit!” He tries again. This time, the engine turns. But he turns it off soon after because the car shook so hard the guy was tossed into the air. “Holy crap!”
“Are you cold?” he asks. Without waiting for my answer, he reaches out and holds my hand. “Oh, shit!” He jumps out and yells, “Wait!” He closes the door so hard, my eardrums almost explode right away.
He backs his car quickly to mine. It’s a brand-new, big 4x4 with lots of lights and antennas on the top. He pulls open the door on my side, “Let’s go! Quick!”
I grab my duffle bag and step outside. It’s windy but I don’t feel the cold. My whole body is numb. I try to move but I can’t really keep my balance.
“Come on!” The guy wraps his arm around me and drags me into his car. He turns the heater to the max and says, “Put on the seatbelt.”
“Where…are we…going…?” I manage to squeeze out the words. My body is still shaking.
“To get you a hot coffee.” He kicks the gas pedal.
We are doing about forty miles per hour. The guy focuses his eyes on the road. Once in a while, he looked at me. I feel warm and comfortable. Soon, I close my eyes.
I open my eyes and look outside. I see snow but nothing else. “Where are we?” I ask.
“Easy, kid,” the guy chuckles. “It’s only two minutes, okay?” He grins.
“I’m not a kid. I’m a college student.”
“Oh, great. I’m Jack, by the way.”
“Oh, hi, Jack, nice to meet you,” I say. “I’m Emilie.”
“Emilie, nice to meet you!” Jack grins again. “So, you feel better now?”
“Yes, thanks.” I look at Jack. He is big. I’m sure he is at least six feet. His arms are bigger than my legs. He wears only a black T-shirt but is sweating. “Is it too hot for you, Jack?” I ask.
“How about you? You okay?” he turns to me and smiles.
“Do you want me to turn the heater down a bit?” I ask.
“If you feel comfortable,” Jack says, focusing his eyes on the road.
I turn the knobs and bring the temperature down to 72º F on both my side and his. I then turned off the heating on my seat. I feel hot on my back already.
“Thanks!” He turns and smiles. Then, he turns back to the road.
Jack seems nice and friendly. In fact, he saved my life. However, I feel uncomfortable being in his car. Why? I search for the answer and realize quickly: His tattoos. He has big tattoos all over. The weirdest is a huge dragon from his shoulder all the way down to his hand. Is Jack in a gang? I begin to wonder.
I pull out my iPhone. I punch a few numbers and wait. Then I whisper, “Hi, mom, yes, yes,…” I know it’s silly talking to a dead phone. But at least I show Jack I’m connected to my family.
Jack takes a quick look at me and smiles. Soon, he brings the car to an exit. We both look really hard. It’s all dark. We see fields. After five minutes, we are back on the highway.
Fifteen minutes later, we arrive at a travel plaza. It’s huge. Jack parks the car right at the door. He walks to my side and opens the door for me. He reaches out to hold my hand, “Watch out!”
We run inside. It smells coffee. “Are you hungry, kid?” he asks. “I guess you are,” he adds right away.
Sure I am. I open my mouth but no sound comes out. Maybe it gets frozen, too? I clear my throat and try again, “Yeah, a little bit.”
“Do you eat McDonalds?” Jack seems to know the special concerns every lady is serious about.
Do I? I can eat anything today. I don’t worry about diet at all. “I love it.”
“Oh, great,” Jack’s eyes brighten. “Let’s go.”
There is a short lineup. “Get whatever you want and let me treat you, okay?” Jack says, looking at the menu. “Oh, the Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese looks good,” he swallows his saliva. “Maybe I will have a Big Mac, too,” he adds quickly.
“Jack, can I pay for the meal as little thanks?” I ask.
“Nah, you can do it later if you really want,” he shakes his head.
“Twenty dollars and thirty three cents,” the cashier smiles.
Jack pulls out his wallet. It’s full of cash. He hands the cashier a one-hundred dollar bill.
The cashier smiles, “Sorry, we can’t take a hundred dollar bill.”
Jack digs into his wallet. He found a few coins.
“I have a twenty,” I offer.
Jack waves his hand briefly at me, still looking into his wallet. He scratches his head and thinks for a short while. Then he pulls out a black card and hands it to the cashier.
The cashier is puzzled. “Give me a sec, please.” She turns to her manager. They begin to whisper.
My eyes round. I definitely know this card. It’s an Amex Centurion. My father and mother have the card, too. This is a card for the rich people. They may use it to pay for a Bentley—a car that costs up to $400,000. Or they may use it to buy a jet.
After a short while, the cashier processes the twenty bucks and thirty three cents with this black card and hands it back with a receipt, “Thank you, Mr. Vladimir Akulov, for your business.”
“Thank you,” Jack nods.
What? He is Vladimir Something, not Jack? My heart sinks.
Jack smiles at me, “Let’s eat.”
Chapter Five
We sit at the window. For a few minutes, we do not talk at all. We eat and drink. Occasionally, Jack smiles at me. I smile back.
Now, we are full. “So,” says Jack, “What’s your plan?”
Me? A plan? I wish I had one. Seriously. I’ve gone through so many things in such a short time. I just came back from death. I haven’t had the time to think about any plan yet.
I shake my head.
“Where are you going?” Jack asks.
“Miami,” I say. Then I feel sorry right away. This Jack is odd. He looks nice but he has big tattoos all over his body. He has a big chunk of cash plus an Amex Centurion card. He is a real puzzle.
Oh, I almost forget, his name may not be Jack either. Is his name Vladimir Something? Is that a Russian name?
So who is this Jack guy? He is filthy rich, for sure. But where does he get all the money from? He doesn’t look or talk like a good business man—like my father. So…, is he a big guy in a gang? Does he smuggle drugs or something to make the kind of money he has?
My hair stands on end. Goosebumps explode on my body. Then I feel so silly. Come on, Emilie. This guy saved your life. Does it matter if he is a bad guy? What do you have to lose? If he wants to kill, he must kill for a reason. I definitely can’t give him a good reason to kill me.
He nods. “Miami, that’s a long drive.” He stands up and paces back and forth. After a while, he sits down. “Okay, I can give you a ride to New York.”
“Why should I trust you?” Oops. I feel so sorry I actually said that.
To my surprise, Jack is not a tiny bit angry or upset. “You’re right, kid,” he grins. He sounds so sincere.
He looks at me with his dark blue eyes. I feel like there is a mysterious world behind these eyes, a world going far beyond my reach and imagination. I look into the eyes, trying to explore the world and discover the secret. But I see only truthfulness, nothing else.
“Jack,” I try to find the best way to express my concern. “You saved my life and treated me well. I really appreciate it.”
Jack smiles happily and shakes his head.
“Meanwhile,” I lower my eyes. I dare not to continue eye contact with him. “I’m not sure I really know who you are.” I whisper.
“I’m a murder suspect on the run,” he says right away. “Is that what you want to know?”
I’m shocked. What? Is he kidding me or is that real? “Jack,” I try really hard to smile, “This is no time for jokes.”
“Whatever.” He looks frustrated. He stands up and paces again. After a long while, he sits down. “Look, kid,” he says, “I may be bad but I’m a million times better than you.”
What? I’m totally shocked. I can’t believe my ears. “Why do you think so?” My eyes are spitting fire.
“Because I’m telling you the truth and you are not,” says Jack.
“No, I’m not lying,” I try really hard not to raise my voice. I pause for a while and then murmur, “I just don’t feel safe.”
“Oh, yeah?” he smirks. “Am I going to kidnap you and sell you for cash? How much do you think you are worth?”
This is definitely humiliating but he is telling the truth. With the cash he has and the black card he is holding, it won’t be worth his time at all.
“Am I going to kill you?” he asks. “I might have left you in your piece of shit ‘car’ and watch you die slowly. That’s more fun.” He exaggerates the word “car”. That really makes me feel sick.
I become really angry this time. This guy is definitely rude. “Okay, Jack. You win.” I succeed in holding back my tears. “Why don’t you shut up and leave me alone. I’m calling my mom.” I pull out my iPhone.
“Oh, yeah?” Jack widens his eyes. “Are you going to talk to that piece of shit again? Don’t fool yourself, kid.” He pulls out his iPhone and hands it to me, “Here, call your mom and make sure she comes.”
How could he talk to me like this? This Jack is total nuts! I throw his iPhone on the table and storm out, “I hate you!”
It’s freezing outside. The wind is ripping off my coat. It’s dark, too. What am I going to do now?
A strong arm wraps around my body. I don’t have to turn around. I know it’s him.
“I’m sorry Emilie,” he says. “I apologize, okay?”
I turn around and look up, right into his eyes. “I hate you.”
“Hit me,” Jack says. He pulls my hand to hit his head. I struggle to pull my hand back.
“Let’s get in,” he says. We walk back in, holding hands.
“Want one more coffee?” He asks.
“I’m okay,” I smile.
“Look, kid,” Jack says. “I’m going to New York. So I’m not doing you any favor. It may take three or four hours to get there. You can then take the Greyhound to Miami.”
“Really?” I didn’t think that way.
He searches on the Greyhound web site with his iPhone and shows me the list. “Look, they have quite a few trips throughout the day. You don’t have to rush.”
I take a look. Wow, a one way trip is only one hundred and nineteen dollars.
“Shall we go now?” Jack asks.
Shall we? Do I have a second option? I don’t. Jack could be a bad guy. He could be smuggling drugs, or doing something totally against the law to make piles of cash. He could be a dangerous murderer running away from the police. But, hey, he is offering his help. He is a good guy to me—at least at this moment. When you are drowning, you grab anything, right? That’s how much I care, seriously. “Give me a sec,” I say.
He raises his eyebrows slightly but doesn’t say anything. He looks at me, waiting.
“My makeup,” I try to smile.
He smiles like he won lotto. “Take your time, kid,” he says.
I go into the restroom. The mirror is small. The light is dim. But I can see my face is a total mess. I feel sorry that I did not think about this before lining up to get my food.
I wash my face carefully to remove all the leftover mascara and lipstick.
My eyeliner is a disaster. I use a cotton sw
ab to remove it bit by bit. But I can’t do anything with the black circles around my eyes. I have to find a reason why the panda looks good.
I remove the dry skin from my lips. I apply the foundation and give a natural pink look to my cheeks and lips.
Then, I focus on my eyes. If you can see me at the moment, you will have to agree that crying is not an option for girls. I apply the concealer to hide the dark circles. I use a brush to blend the makeup but I end up using my fingers. And I swear I will never, ever cry like tonight again.
