The Place They Are Safe

by Alan Spencer

  Mark remained calm. He had to. He was so weak feeling. "The way I've been behaving?"

  "When you're dying, you see the world differently. Everything you do could be for the last time. You realize you've taken everything for granted. The people we loved, the people we didn't love, the life we've lived will stop forever, and it's a terrible sinking feeling. The stuff of nightmares. But where we're going, it's different. We're very lucky, all three of us, though you have to commit yourself first. No other way around it. You have to commit yourself."

  The more he processed the things Cassie was cryptically telling him, the deeper his fatigue set in. As long as the pain in his midsection didn't return—what his real physician said would start happening as his pancreatic cancer advanced—he was content laying in the tub naked in front of an old friend.

  Then Cassie kissed his lips tenderly. There were meanings behind that kiss. Motive. Emotions. She whispered in his ear before she got up and left him alone in the tub to soak, "I've wanted you back in my life for quite some time, Mark..."

  A change of clothes were left folded near the door. Blue jeans, a red t-shirt, boxers and socks. People kept leaving him clothes left and right, he thought. Mark dressed and met up with his friends in the other room. Peyton was fast asleep in bed. Cassie was sitting at the table by the window with the rum bottle at her lips. She turned to him with a smile in her eyes.

  "All clean now?"

  Mark shrugged his shoulders. "I'm fit for service."

  Mark sat down at the table with her, trying to choose his next words carefully. If they weren't going to spell out their motives and plans for him, then he'd go along with it until they did. He wasn't kidnapped or held against his will. He could leave anytime he wanted. The unknown burning question kept him there. What was this place they wanted to take him? If it was bad news, he would get the hell out of there, no problem. The better reason he didn't walk out on them, what else did he have to live for? He would be alone again. Counting the days until he was on his death bed, and then ultimately, dying. Being with friends, however odd as they might be, was the better option by far. He would see this through.

  "So when do we head out tomorrow?"

  "Early," was all Cassie said. "I can't sleep, though. Peyton said he'd drive, so I'll sleep on the way there in the truck."

  "Why can't you sleep?"

  "Because I've been thinking about us, and what it'll be like once we get to where we're going."

  Mark held his tongue before speaking. "If you won't tell me where we're going, will you at least tell me if the weather's nice where we're going? Just, something."

  "It's whatever we want it to be. Always nice, though." Cassie touched his hand with hers and her hazel eyes gazed at him lovingly. "You should go to bed. You can have the other twin size bed. I won't sleep."

  Mark wasn't going to argue with her. He was exhausted. He said if she was sure, and she said she was sure, so he said thank you and crawled under the covers.

  The moment he relaxed under the starchy covers, Cassie flipped off the lamp and stayed sitting in the chair by the window. Cassie kept her eyes focused outside the window, looking on at nothing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "Rise and shine. We've got a long drive ahead of us." Peyton drew the curtains, letting in a blast of morning sunshine into the room. The man was fully dressed in a Laker's windbreaker and already wearing a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses. Mark squinted against the harsh rays of the sun. He was startled to find Cassie was nestled in the bed beside him, practically snuggled up behind him. He must've slept deeply. Mark hadn't noticed her crawl into bed with him.

  Well played, Cassie.

  "I could sleep after all." Cassie eyed him mischievously. "I hope you don't mind."

  "I guess not, you sneak."

  Mark played it nice. He wasn't mad, even though Mark wasn't sure what to feel. As soon as they got the drive done and over with, the sooner he would learn their big secret.

  Where was this place they kept talking about?

  Cassie was in a pair of white jockey panties and a Ted Nugent shirt. She stretched and marched to the bathroom. The door closed. The toilet seat clapped down. They could hear her pee.

  Peyton motioned him outside. "Let's get some fresh air. I have some things I want to tell you," he exaggerated his smile, "in private. We don't want the lady to hear us."

  Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he followed his friend outside. Once Mark closed the door behind him, Peyton walked out to his truck, and in the back, he opened a cooler and handed him a Coke. Peyton took one for himself. "This'll wake you up."

  After a few drinks, Peyton said, "Cassie's got a hard on for you, man. She wants your dick. Needs your pole, dude, like hurt me so good type shit. I'll confess, I tried to win her over. It wasn't happening, so I wanted you to know there will never be any bad blood between us if you go for it. That's all I wanted to tell you. That, and lighten up. You're among friends. We're not going to murder you. We're not in a cult. This is in the name of fun. You should start realizing that. Nothing but good things are ahead of us."

  Mark sat on a worn out wooden bench outside the check in room that still hadn't opened up for business. "What's with this place? Doesn't anybody work here?"

  "It was abandoned recently. The power and water haven't been shut off just yet. Any second, and it will be."

  "How would you know that?"

  "I just know. Like I know what you're going through. I can't say too much until we get to where we're going, or else I'll really confuse you. So stick it out. You're almost to the pay off. You're a good man. That's why you deserve what's coming to you. I mean that. Our intentions are good. You'll be confused for awhile. But I can promise you this is the best thing that'll happen to you. Trust me on that."

  Maybe Mark had jumped to conclusions. He was being uptight. Tight ass more like it. The closet he had been to a woman was two years ago. Cassie was a good person. He did enjoy re-living that high school crush.

  "You know, you're right. It's wonderful seeing you guys again, but—"

  "—but we're rambling about shit you don't understand, and it's freaking you out. And Cassie's not helping by jumping the gun and giving you a bath and laying in bed with you. She's trying to make up for lost time. When something gets in her head, God-be-to-Jesus, you can't stop her. She missed you the most out of everybody."

  Out of everybody?

  "How many people are involved in this?"

  "I can't say. It's better to show you rather than tell you."

  Cassie exited the hotel room. She was dressed in a black skirt and tank top without a bra. Her summer dress as a teenager always involved a tank top without a bra. Mark always called her a "free-spirited chest". The package was sullied by her sickly condition. So pale. So deathly. Like each of them.

  Cassie asked, "So when are we leaving this shit shack?"

  Peyton smiled. "We leave now. You ready, Mark?"

  Cassie locked arms with him. "Yes. And Mark's sitting in the backseat with me."

  CHAPTER NINE

  Peyton completed a short leg of the drive, having just said they had three hundred more miles to travel before they reached their destination. What destination, Mark still didn't know. Would there be any point in asking? Cassie was asking him personal questions to dodge the issue. She was smitten with him, and it wasn't hard to distinguish that special longing look in those hazel eyes. The questions she asked were designed to figure him out, to learn how to incorporate herself into his life romantically.

  "When did you marry Elizabeth?"

  "I was twenty-four, and she was twenty-six. We waited until she received her teaching certificate. Then we put it on paper. What else you got for me?"

  "Let me guess, she taught physical education, or something to do with fitness?"

  "Health and Physical Education, yes. She also coached the cross country team. Elizabeth ran with the girls during practice. None of those girls could complain about hard practices. She was right th
ere with them, running those hard miles."

  "Was that all you guys did on dates? Run laps, I mean." She stifled a snigger. "I'd watch Duke practice with the team on the field, and I'd see you two jogging in and out of the woods. You guys were quite the pair."

  Okay, don't make this awkward. Get through this. Be nice.

  Cassie was jealous. Mark did his best to play it off. He felt like he was defending Elizabeth against undeserved criticism. Mark was tempted to say: You dated Duke. You're the one who left me hanging out to dry, and now here you are decades later showing up as if you're on time.

  "We were into exercise. I was skinny because of her. And now I've lost weight because," he was going to say 'because of the cancer,' but he sensed Peyton's disapproval and Mark changed his answer, "my appetite hasn't been so great since I lost Elizabeth. It's hard being alone."

  "I know about being alone. Duke died three years ago."

  "I'm sorry to hear that."

  "It's for the best, in some ways. He wouldn't have handled it well when I was diagnosed with bone cancer. When it metastasized in my bones, he would've run away with his tail between his legs. He changed towards the end of his life. I have a daughter, but she doesn't have much to do with me. It's because of Duke. He was...abusive. And a drunk."

  Another awkward silence.

  Cassie's eyes were closed. Tears wormed out of the slits. She was sniffling. "Katie ran away because I couldn't protect her from him."

  With those heavy sunglasses, Mark couldn't tell if Peyton was looking back at him in sympathy or accusation. Mark let it go as he had done with everything else. The truck rolled on. They stuck to back roads. It seemed like they were going nowhere. Mark hadn't seen any road signs for miles, or any signs of civilization.

  "Where we headed?" Mark dared to ask after thirty minutes of watching the same scenery of dense woods that wouldn't break. "It's like we're going in circles."

  "We're headed north." Peyton stuffed a wad of beef jerky into his mouth. He offered them none. "Give it a couple of hours. We'll get there in good time."

  Cassie's head was resting on his lap. Mark started to pet the strands of her ash and blonde hair. He did this without realizing he was doing it. Whenever a girl put her head in his lap, he just started petting their hair. Cassie soaked up his attention, purring under her breath. She recovered from the cry.

  Her inquisition returned.

  "So what have you done with your life? For money, I mean."

  "I was an insurance claims representative for the past eleven years. Loss prevention."

  "No way. Mark Tripdick an insurance man? Did you have kids?"

  She's giving me the interview, isn't she?

  "How come you ask?"

  "I'm asking because I'm checking to make sure you're not leaving anything behind."

  Peyton scolded her, "Now Cassie, you're getting a little too personal, aren't you?"

  "I guess I am. Sorry."

  Mark squeezed her close in a friendly hug. What she needed was for someone to show her some kindness. Mark could do that. Something told him she had a rough go with Duke.

  "It's not a problem, Peyton. No, my mom passed away. My dad passed on too. And my wife? Elizabeth had ovarian cancer. We couldn't have kids. She had to have them removed, so no kids. I guess we're all full of cancer." He stopped at his own words. "We all have cancer, don't we?"

  Cassie and Peyton didn't say a word.

  Cassie held his hand and this time looked him in the face. "I'm sorry to hear about Elizabeth dying and you guys not being able to have kids. I'm glad she made you so happy."

  "Thank you," Mark said. "That's nice of you to say."

  What he didn't hear Cassie say, "Now it's my turn to make you happy."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Three hours of driving passed on uneventfully. Cassie stopped asking Mark personal questions. Mark was surprised she didn't ask him, "Do you have any sexually transmitted diseases?" while she was at it. Mark kept asking himself where could they be going? He supposed he was somewhere in Iowa or Illinois. The back roads didn't dictate much geographically. Woods. That's all they were driving in were woods.

  "You're going to have to brace yourself soon," Peyton said. "Something's going to happen that's going to give you a big shock."

  Great. What next?

  "I take it we're almost there."

  Cassie leered out of the window with the focus of a periscope out of water.

  "It'll happen any moment now," Peyton warned. He was stone cold serious. "Don't be scared. Stay relaxed. It's still us you're in the van with, so please, please, please take care to remember that. The others in the past have freaked out. One even had a heart attack when it happened, though he lived. They all live."

  "What do you mean they had a heart attack? What the fuck are you guys going to do to me?"

  Mark was ready to un-strap himself from his seat belt at the sign of anything too strange occurring for his comfort, though he had already crossed that threshold when Cassie gave him a bath.

  "Don't hold your breath," Peyton added. "You're going to pass out if you do that."

  Mark couldn't help holding his breath. Nerves. He was shaking in his seat. Every muscle was clenched. His eyes kept roaming around, checking around the bend, in the shadows of the woods, the road up ahead, the sky, beside the moving truck, then at Cassie, at Peyton, at the empty front seat, everywhere.

  Cassie's face brightened. Her mouth was open in awe and joy.

  "It's coming!" Peyton rejoiced. "Almost time!"

  Cassie cheered, "I'm ready! Faster, drive faster! I'm tired of feeling this way. It's been so hard. I can't stand another moment!"

  Without knowing why, Mark unleashed a peal of horror. Nothing visually had changed. No flashes of light. No explosions. Nothing. Mark shut his eyes, denying what could be incoming, and before he could open them again, his friends screamed like thrill seekers on a roller coaster, and it was over.

  They arrived at their destination.

  Cassie and Peyton had changed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Mark opened his eyes and didn't recognize his friends anymore. It didn't help the both of them were staring at him with that obsessive concerned look in their eyes. Mark was the blazing rock that had fallen from the sky to behold and value. Mark remained rooted in his chair. Questions wanted to burst from his mouth, but his tongue was frozen stiff, as was the rest of him. Thinking through his friends' change, he noticed the road was the same. The woods were the same. There was no perimeter, or barrier, or line marking anything saying you were "here" and now you're "there".

  Peyton, "It's going to be okay, buddy. We're your friends. We can prove our intentions are good if you stay calm and let us take you into Meadow Woods."

  "Meadow Woods?" He said it as if Meadow Woods meant death. "We're not in Meadow Woods. How could we be there?"

  "We are," Cassie insisted. "If we drive you far enough, you'll see. You'll recognize our hometown."

  "But I was in Pennsylvania during my accident. How could I end up in Illinois so fast? We haven't been driving that long. It's impossible."

  Cassie pointed at her face. "Just like this is impossible."

  Her skin was youthful. Death had been chased out of her body and replaced by vitality. Her hair was sunshine yellow. There was no sign she was suffering from cancer. She resembled the teenager she was decades ago. She hadn't lost her adulthood, somehow owning the best of both worlds. She had lost thirty pounds and had gained back the curves of her hour glass body. She was an exaggerated version of Cassie's previous sexuality.

  Peyton was altered more dramatically. A hundreds pounds of him had vanished, and he pulled at his baggy Laker's windbreaker, practically drowning in it. The jaundice hue to his skin was healthy, his skin full of vitamins and sheen. He was a healthy, happy man nowhere near his dying hour. Except for him, Mark thought, noticing his own deathly body was unchanged.

  Why hadn't he changed?

  Cassie touched him, tryin
g to pat his hand and hold it, when he unleashed a howl so loud the two shirked from him. "Stay away from me! What exactly is going on here? Tell me everything, or I'm out of here!"

  That's when Mark opened the passenger side door and leapt out. There was no explaining this. They had drugged him or altered his perception. Running full steam into the woods, Mark refused to stay with these people who had accomplished the impossible and were so blasé about it. Fucking calm as chamomile tea.

  Running and ducking through silver maples, oaks, spruce, and firs, he was already out of breath only having completed a quarter of a mile's distance. He was hobble-walking and refused to stop. Mark couldn't tell if his friends were after him or not. After another half a mile, he was running on empty. Hacking and coughing up his lungs until his body forced him to rest. Mark leaned against a shagbark hickory, taking in the woodsy smells of rotting wood, wilting leaves, and the decomposition of animals and soil. He heard the familiar turning of White Creek.

  He was in Meadow Woods.

  This is where he called home as a teenager.

  His sweat making him shiver, Mark clutched his arms to his body to stave the chills. Each moment after the next, his life was getting stranger. Death and cancer were nothing against this situation. He was still ingesting Cassie and Peyton's change from cancer sick adults to healthy and radiant people. No way to address the strange situation, he had to make himself keep moving. Mark would find help. Someone who could inject some sanity back into his life.

  Mark crossed the ice cold creek that was ankle-deep. He was on that familiar path marked by jagged stones. It was the path Elizabeth had taken him through many times on their long runs together when they were in high school. This was among the many places they could hide away and have sex, an activity they engaged in often during their runs. Sticking to what was familiar, Mark happened on the abandoned shack where hunters used to hide and fire at turkeys and bucks. On top of the hill was a farmhouse at the edge of the woods.