LOST HIGHWAY

by Zac Funstein

  “Doesn’t sound if you like Möller very much.”

  “Oh dear I’m not explaining myself very well. We tolerate each other shall we say-I believe that is how it could be couched-arguing doesn’t solve anything. We have to learn to live with one another.”

  “Mr. Rodney M. Hawthorn?”

  There was an uncomfortably long pause this takes a while to register- then the new friend politely said:

  “The young-rep left I’m afraid-it isn’t very exciting for them here-they come ‘n go quite quickly. But why chat here where everyone can hear- we can go up then meet Robert see just what might be done to help-better be good at shouting. Might I ask what this is about Mr….?”

  “Nebay-we found a deserted car with a dead teenager on a deserted patch of British Columbia highway-there was a map with directions to an apartment in this bloc.”

  “This sounds very official we better go up straight away see what Möller says.”

  “Did you see or hear anybody leave-someone called Mr. Orlando C. Andrus?”

  “Not that I can immediately point to-there was someone from the agency recently but they left early arrived late you know that sort of thing. They were quite noisy for a while I seem to believe-left the TV on, but then it stopped about as quickly as everything started.”

  “Did you see them leave-a taxi or car pull away?”

  “Nothing like that-one minute they were there the next gone-which might sound a bit fanciful but some are like that-you never really see them come or go for that matter. In general I do not believe myself as a particularly superstitious person, but then things like this happen I realize I am constantly on the lookout for signs/ portents in my immediate environment. ”

  Mr. Robert Möller far from being a miser- a domineering, humourless, bad-mannered sanctimonious know-it-all proved very personable wearing a dressing-gown of an unspecified material haphazardly knotted. A hearing-aid did indeed seem to be poking from the top of his dressing gown pocket suggesting that Sara Kuster (the lady that had negotiated the revolving door with the shopping who having asked Aida to wait returned suitably unburdened) was not exaggerating regarding his hearing deficit. This got hit through their interchange presumably to make it work. It probably had flat batteries or something.

  “This is Mr. Nebay Robert,” Sarah patiently said. “Aida Nebay.”

  His ‘apartment’ was really just a room with a cordoned off section with a shower/bathroom attached. Robert had no need for much else, but still, the word apartment had a nicer ring. Möller switched off the gas stove to give them his full attention. The hissing stopped conspicuously.

  “How can we help you Mr. Nebay. The property which every man has in his own labour, so it is the most sacred and inviolable I believe you’ll agree.”

  Home was clearly important to him.

  “Indubitably-but that is not why I am here Robert. Mr. Orlando C. Andrus is my concern did you give him the key to the apartment?”

  “No that’s just it-I was saying to Sarah here only earlier that I got a phone call from the letting agency to say someone was coming to let the room. They didn’t arrive as arranged so I presume they renegaded-it happens more often than you can realise-it’s just one of those things. Then that evening I heard my letterbox. It was an envelope containing a request that the keys be left in the analogous letterboxes downstairs. I peered up/down the corridor but whoever it was was gone!”

  “You complied with this without seeing them-that is mighty foolish!”

  “Not guilty my honour-I sent a fax to the office who checked who said it was fine-continue I believe their words were ‘if they want to play hide/seek that’s fine by them’! Some of these important people have a childish side. The next I heard there was someone banging about up there-they seemed happy enough. Nobody complained about the noise or any children, usual stuff like that-I left them to it. Then soon after I found the keys on the welcome-mat with a thank you for the effort on their behalf-whoever it might have been.”

  “Did the neighbours catch a glimpse of them Robert or a vehicle of any description?”

  “Nothing, the security cameras show someone leaving but nothing I kept the envelopes with the messages in-I never throw anything away.”

  Reaching into the chambray shirt under the dressing gown a folded envelope was removed. After positioning it on the table, the creases were almost lovingly unfolded.

  “You’re in luck I never throw anything away. I have beautiful/expensive baby furniture stored that has no purpose for example do I give it away-no I do not.”

  “Has anyone rented since then-since Mr. Andrus left?”

  “No you’re very fortunate I believe that the space is still empty-it’s not a very popular let-we only get a few tenants. Would you care to give the premises the once over Mr. Nebay?”

  Aida mumbled an assent then the old man searched for the keys. Möller picked up an envelope then a key dropped out. The geriatric read wiping away a tear in so doing.

  “You must excuse us it is a letter from my son-I must have put them in the wrong envelope-now if you would follow us.”

  They made their way upstairs-the lock was turned. They examined each room, all were empty: no computers, desks, couches, televisions. No one inside. Some of the desks had been ransacked, drawers open or thrown to one side, detritus everywhere-wastepaper baskets turned upside down. What was odd was that not only was no curtains in evidence but the plastic curtains, the built-in bookcase, the sink hanging off the wall on the nonsterile side, the postcards sent by a Louisiana cousin tacked to the mirror over the now absent sink.

  “Is it policy to have no curtains or blinds Robert?”

  “Some don’t-this high where they’re not overlooked they don’t seem to bother.”

  They took in the vista momentarily there wasn’t much that could see in apart from a passing jet.

  A drawer that was suspiciously untouched was opened. The base of the drawer was filled with manila envelopes marked ‘photo -do not bend’. Inside was some denim-jeans & a work- shirt as if someone took all of the clothes, still folded, from the suitcases then put them, folded, into the drawers.

  “Were these items here before Robert?”

  “No I check regularly-I put in freshener sachets whenever possible-this must have been left by Mr.Andrus or whoever it was. Take them be my guest Mr. Nebay.”

  As they were about to leave it occurred that in an episode of ‘Outlaw Rehab’ Jospeh K. Burt found evidence between the mattress/divan. Maybe that was the preferred locale to hide everything now courtesy of series creator Kôvári Szonja. Lifting the mattress on one side then finding nothing the other side was explored-again nothing. They were about to leave when they saw something fall-another envelope like Möllers. Aida searched inside -there was an article from the Las Vegas Times about celebrity gangster Facondo Calabresi. Afterwards when Aida returned with his find techie Nansen L. Iversen one of the few of those who could take prints from fabric successfully delivered his verdict.

  “Do you want the good news Aida or the bad?”

  “As it comes I’m easy Iversen-hit us with it-we can take it.”

  “The prints are the same as on the denim fragment we found in British Columbia but they’re not the same make of jeans.”

  “I don’t quite see the significance of this Iversen.”

  “The garment you found in the chest of drawers uses a commercially produced sulphur dye-I don’t know the make but it is produced on a standard loom not the air-loom of the fabric we found.”

  Having requisitioned the CCTV recording (once the manager explained their idiosyncratic guest registry software/ CCTV cameras), then navigated the guest registry software Aida could begin to utilize his own equipment which operated to the sound of his voice or a series of claps-running the transcript through the registry system.

  There inherent problems no one could deny that. To provide meaningful images when the scene varies in real-time, scanning must be sufficiently fast—CCTV
cameras need to keep watch on entire precincts, so they prefer wide shots, which make room for if not crowds exactly then more one person; the singularity of the close-up is not part of their brief. Seeing just who came then went was difficult.

  Midway through the video stream was stopped-a slower speed then narrow pixilation was attempted. At first Nebay could not believe what his senses told him. A snapshot was taken as the progress was followed from camera to camera. Whoever it was (no gender was specified because of the slight panoramic feature) was followed into the ‘burnout zone’ - that region where no -camera feed ever goes.

  Aida reached to pick up his smartphone stumbled then fell.

  Of all those that were excellent at getting to the nitty-gritty Diogo Pinto Dias was deemed the most skilled. Diogo was described as someone with potentially a well-finished closet moreover someone who would use this as a high point in showing guests around - especially to those who still toss things in then chancily crams everything shut. Some would call it precarious, very dangerous or whatever, but sometimes we open these which some would call foolishness. When temporary teacher Tomás Araujo Correia who had been one of The dead students contributors explained that something had bothered him for some while about the family Diogo was deemed the one most worthy. Diogo who dressed like someone from Pleasantville during the war soon got stuck in. The Big House was of sturdy concrete, but here where their dynamic was to occur was marble of the most exquisite delicacy.

  Tomás who did a passing impression of someone who just walked out of Brooks Brothers with a cell phone walking out of the rubble of a life that Correia always was sure belonged to everyone but him was in full-swing quickly enough. His estranged wife Aurélie haunted, trying to reconcile different versions of the same shadowy man knew the garrulous Diogo was but one of his personas. Their small daughter Ila standing at the window, scanning the sky for planes throughout the interchange never deemed to comment.

  “Does your daughter always stare out of the window like that?”

  “Let's see ... pornography has been strictly totally off limits for her since forever, but letting Ila virtually hack aliens to shreds in exquisite with the most vicious weapons imaginable is (ho hum) tolerated, if not exactly condoned. Window-gazing is comparatively tame in comparison. But where were we- yeh I was disturbed by The deceased in the short while we were together as pupil/student.”

  “You mentioned something about barrier-islands in your e-mail I wasn’t sure of the relevance.”

  “There are more barrier islands (BI) than previously believed according to a new global survey by researchers from Meredith College in Raleigh, N.C. Barrier islands often form as chains of low, narrow offshore deposits of sand/sediment, running parallel to a coast but separated from it. Unlike stationary landforms, barrier islands build up, erode, migrate even rebuild over time.”

  “There was something about someone called Heather W. Hulbert.”

  “Hulbert’s emotions on discovering such marvels as found on one such BI must surely be echoed by all of us who follow her. I was sure it was pertinent like you cannot believe. This is what Heather wrote:

  ‘I considered the past during which the successive generations of these things of beauty had run their course. Year by year being born, living ‘n dying amid this dark gloominess with nothing to gaze upon their loveliness, to all appearances such a wanton waste of beauty. It seems sad that such exquisiteness should live out their lives exhibiting their charms only in these wild inhospitable regions. This consideration must surely tell us that all living things were not made for our benefit, many of them had no relation to us, their enjoyment's would seem to be immediately related to their own perpetuation alone’.”

  “I still don’t quite get it Correia.”

  Some cardboard containers are produced from nearby that are similar. Corrugated cardboard such as is used for packing is pulled out which makes Diogo sure that microscope slides are contained for some reason-infact what are there are spares for some hardware add-on bought from Amazon they sent through the post.

  Sensing some discomfort, Correia provides distracting commentary.

  “Both have stupendously good design on the boxes, which was a welcome relief from the unremittingly banal nature of most modern electronic packaging, which seem to aim for the visual ingenuity of floor polish containers. One of these is a big-seller the other is not however.

  To fulfill the dream of spaceflight which was held by all the Chinese people, the aeronauticians had worked with perseverance/ unremittingness using this product despite it being almost identical plus less costly.” One of the packages is held up. “Rather than the other.”

  The rival is then held up as per illustration.

  “I’m still not getting it.”

  “Our friend upstairs was similar to many girls of her age-there was probably those that drove down that same highway but some visual trigger set everything off. We spoke about this in class how a certain type of boy always seemed to pick on her. One therapist, faced with his patient's unremitting suicidal threats, described himself `like having a loaded gun pointed at him’ G was the same. There was a visual-gun loaded to set off everything under the correct circumstances. This communion-with-self just provided the correct setting. ”

  “Some visual reference made her a target….like the packaging you just showed.”

  Ila who is bored with her window gazing turns to her more visceral phone-entertainment where it has been left off; however whenever her father approaches the channel is changed to one of where children are proudly dressed in their uniforms indeed some of the teams actually have cheerleaders. It is a vid of her school parade taken by her parents.

  “I want you to know that I have a strong connection to accidents on such lonely highways-albeit different ones- from when I was a Baptist minister travelling to a revivalist meeting in Northern Manitoba I was pronounced dead after a collision- even experiencing the glories of heaven for the briefest of moments, coming miraculously to life only to endure a painful recovery.”

  “You were out-this epiphany happened-I presume no one else was there.”

  “That’s just it-there wasn’t I could have been dead so easily. I had strong premonitions of doom, the unmistakable sensation I was walking into a trap. Bishop Bxumalo, who had been blessing new members at the chapter-house who almost died in the fire that burnt the last building down, had a premonition about the incident.”

  “Some are fascinated by the idea of premonition, oracles anything that will allow a sneak peak at the unknown-I remain unconvinced. Ellen I believe had some warning of her daughters accident-but I have yet to corroborate that. But tell us more of Bxumalo. ”

  “Bxumalo a brilliant man, arrogant pitted against ineptitude/moral indiscretion,was sure we might find a new order of things that would restore the balance between everyone. Our forefathers in the days of the Model-T had a dim premonition that power-charged gangsters would one day use machines like the automobile itself as a way of deadening mens abilities which is why they moved somewhere so remote.”

  Ila continued watching her parade. Aurélie Correia annually organised/ choreographed sell-out shows starring her pupils, with all the proceeds going to local charities. Ila Correia was the star pupil even though her own child.

  Jet Li’s world beating Wing Chun style- his succession of excellently choreographed fight scenes-had been the source-giving a tight finish. Using a single-head machine to stitch out her creations, Aurélie was able to see the extensiveness of her sewing software's capabilities in her daughters costume.

  “Might I ask how you came to have such a dramatic scar Tomás?”

  “People have fallen through plate glass windows without sustaining fatal injuries. I alas was not one. I sensed myself reel, knowing full well that if I fell into oblivion it would all be over. Do not ask it is a sad conglomerate of mishaps. Jurors were spared much of the gory happenings in the case, but the horrific nature of the crime plus the grisly aftermath was ha
rd to avoid. It is not what we should concern ourselves with-what is important here which everyone is neglecting is the Native-American content. We cannot do without their knowledge, their spiritual perspective, their deep faith in the harmony of all.”

  “They understand that stretch of highway better than many it has been mentioned before. Many reported disturbed activity patterns when they’d been there; some were deeply concerned that they were more short-tempered, quarrelled far more often too.”

  The local perspicacity regarding that blighted patch is gone over whilst Diogo plays with some Mahjongg pieces that have rested nearby. Although external and internal factors determined individual behaviour,many reported severe distress. The tiles depict early-Nagasaki engineering feats like trains, bridges even telephone systems. Propaganda game pieces are stamped with sketches of bombs falling on Cantonese rebels, as well as on Japanese soldiers and civilians “I’m pleased you like those Mr.Dias. That antique set has quite a history. Among the past owners of the various sets were Chinese prisoners of war, the playwright Rodger F. Seibel, plus a Scottish expat in Shanghai, who was probably a double-agent called Jamie V. Carter.”

  Something told Dias that this was more than just a collectors item sure enough.

  “Are you scared to take part in board games, from monopoly to chess, in case you lose?”

  “Not as far as I know that is I haven’t given it much consideration.”

  “I have a morbid dread of losing any board game which is why I collect these. Here take a peek if you would.”

  Correia for all the easy going humour- had a competitive streak it was sensed which dictated that the teacher would find it hard to participate even in a friendly game of tiddlywinks but you couldn’t fault him for believing that someone in that class knew what happened.