Night of Deception

There I sat in my old beat up ’58 Datsun pickup. It had a neon green body, with a broken taillight that I had covered in red tape. The light still worked, thank God, but here I was, faced with the newest dilemma of the day—a dead battery. At least that’s what I thought it was after I got out to take a look. I glanced up the highway, then back over what I had just covered. About thirty miles long, the stretch was.

I surveyed the area; nothing but shrub weeds and cacti. And it was nearing sundown. Looking up and down the road, there were no headlights, just the lonely open road of a highway in Nowhere, Nevada. Not a house for help, not a gas station for miles, and I was down to my last cigarette. I lit it up, and took a long draw into my mouth, then inhaled for the briefest of highs. Slowly, I blew out the smoke, but it disappeared in what was left of the evening breeze.

I figured that it must be about 90 degrees now that it was getting dark. It was the middle of summer, and one hot July night. I looked at my phone. Nine% power remained. I realized about a half hour earlier that I had forgotten to bring my charger. Dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Suddenly I heard this awful screech! It seemed to come from everywhere. Ahead of me, behind me. All around. It sounded again, only louder, closer now. The light was such that I couldn’t make out anything but the shapes of the cacti.

“Must be some dying animal,” I said aloud, to calm my nerves more than anything else.

It screeched again. Louder. Closer. “What the hell! What is that?!?”

My mind start reeling with the possibilities. “Wolves don’t screech. There’s no lions in these parts. Bird?” But what kind?

I felt creeped out by this time. My mind was making up all sorts of things to think about. Then something whizzed by me in the dark. “Shit!”

I made for the car door like a strike of lightening, and tumbled in, slamming the door behind me. I had no idea what the thing was, but it seemed interested in me.

I decided that with nine% left, I better make a call to someone—but who?

I couldn’t call my now ex-boyfriend. Momma was in Tennessee, living with, hell, who knows. Dad and I hadn’t conversed in 3 years now. Something about me not living right, hanging with the wrong crowd, doing the wrong things, etc. etc. etc.….

I figured it was worth a call to anybody who would be willing to help. Dan. I could call Dan. He would help. Dan was a guy I had met at a party the night before in Henderson, just outside of Vegas. He seemed nice, very interested in me, although I brushed him off. Just not that into dating these days, I guess. But he had given me his number, and I hadn’t thrown it out…yet. “We’ll see if he helps, first,” I thought.

I rang him up, and then sat back in the seat to hear the phone ring, and ring, and ring. Then the answering system clicked on. “Hey, not available right now. Do what you gotta do,” it crackled.

“Hey, um Dan…yeah, it’s me, Trish. From the party last night. Could you call me when you get this?” I asked. “As soon as you get this. Please. Oh yeah, thanks.”

I hung up, only to find my phone at 7%. I didn’t want to call 911. This wasn’t an emergency, just some serious bad luck. I looked up and down the highway again. No lights. Nothing but the starry sky.

I checked my watch. It was 9:47pm. I was getting tired. Long night last night. Long day of driving today. And it looked like it was going to be another long night of sleeping in my truck.

I heard the screeching sound again, which, again, unnerved me. It sure would be nice if I could tell what that sound was. And what went with it. Soon enough my eyes were half-closed. I was beyond tired. I locked the doors, and scooched down in my seat, put my head on my chest, and started to drift off.

“Screeeeech!”

I jumped so hard I hit my head on the roof, and nearly peed myself. God! What is that awful sound!?” I yelled to no one. I turned around, this way and that, trying to see what it was. That’s when I noticed it. Something was standing on the hood of my truck. But the only thing I could see was the glowing eyes staring at me. There was no shape, no outline, nothing that could tell me what it was. That’s when it happened.

Those eyes became slits, and I heard this awful screeching sound unlike anything I’d heard before this. It was so loud, I had to cover my ears to try to block out the sound. But it only increased until the sound was inside my head, popping my eardrums. Then it was silent. Not only had the screeching stopped, but all sound had stopped. I couldn’t hear anything. My heartbeat, my breathing, nothing. I was deaf!

I was in full-blown freak out mode now. I tried to talk; nothing. I screamed; nothing. I started crying. The tears ran down my cheeks, but no sound came out of my mouth. Everything seemed to stop. Time stopped. And everything that was dark, became darker and darker, until I felt my consciousness slipping away, into oblivion.

I awoke to a banging on the window of my truck. I slowly opened my eyes, trying to focus. Then, as the memory of the night wound itself around my head, I bolted up to see a man outside my window. “Hey there! You all right, miss?” He asked. At least I could hear him.

He was Native American with long black hair tied into two braids on each side of his head resting on his chest. That and his dark skin and prominent nose—three features that gave his nationality away. I felt no fear of him. He smiled at me and motioned for me to roll down the window. I did; halfway.

I was still rubbing my eyes, trying to come to when he asked me again, “Miss, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied.

It was still dark. I looked at my watch, and strangely it had stopped at 9:47pm.

“What time is it?” I inquired.

“Just past 5:30am,” he answered.

I looked at my watch again. 5:33am. “What the…?” I muttered to myself.

“Something wrong, miss?” He asked me.

“My watch. I just looked at it and it said 9:47. But when I looked at it again, it read 5:33am,” I replied, extremely confused.

“Stuff like that happens around here all the time,” he responded, smiling. It was as if he got the punch line, and I was still trying to understand the joke.

“What are you doing here all by yourself in the middle of nowhere?” He asked.

“My battery died.”

“Have you tried to start it up recently? Like in the last half hour?”

“No. Like I said, it’s dead.”

“Why don’t you give it a try anyways?”

“I don’t see what good that’ll do. It’s comp…” I started before he interrupted me.

“Just try it now.”

I reached for the key, still in the ignition. I turned it. The truck groaned at first, then started up like nothing was ever wrong.

“What the...?” I started. “It was dead! I know it was!” I exclaimed.

“Well, it sounds fine now,” the man said. “What’s your name?” He asked.

“Trish,” I answered. “Short for Patricia.”

“Well, Trish,” he said. “Looks like you’re in luck after all. Mind telling me how long you’ve been parked here?

“Well,” I started. “Somewhere around ten last night.”

“That’s a long time to be stuck on this road, but it’s happened before. To folks just like yourself. Do you know you’re in the middle of an Indian reservation?”

“Know I didn’t,” I replied, not understanding the implication he was no doubt going to apprise me of.

He eyed my phone on the dash. “How come you didn’t call nobody for help?”

“My phone’s dead,” I answered him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, smiling at me.

“Yes, I’m sure!” I puffed out with irritation.

“Let’s see,” he replied with that stupid smile still on his face.

I grabbed the phone from the dashboard, knowing it wouldn’t light up when I pressed the button. I pressed, and the screen came alive. 78% power stared back at me.

“What in the hell is going on here!?!” I yelled.

“Sounds like you were barn-owled.”

“Barn-owled? What kind of crap are you feeding me?” I was officially pissed now.

“Yeah. It happens to people who drive through here at night. But it only picks you if you’re considered an easy mark.”

“I ain’t no easy mark,” I stated, the anger rising in my voice.

“Did you hear the screeches?” He asked me while trying to hide his amusement.

“Yes! I did! Scared the bejesus out of me! Over and over again. Louder and louder. What were they?”

“They are the spirits of our grandfathers. They don’t like it when the white man, or in your case, woman, travels through their land. But they’re a funny bunch.”

“What do you mean?”

“They play tricks on you. Your eyes, your ears, your mind. You’re lucky I came along.”

“And pray tell, why is that?” I was getting tired of this made-up story.

“Cause when another of us comes around, especially me, they flee, and return everything to normal.”

“What makes you so special?” I asked.

“My name is White Eagle. I am a leader in my tribe. I have power over them. They know this. So, whenever I am in this area, they stop their tricks, and flee.”

“I think you’re handing me a load of bullshit,” I responded flatly.

As I was speaking, the sun peaked over the mountains east of us. I watched it for a moment.

“Screeeech!”

“Then what the hell was that?” I asked, as my hands began to shake again.

“Oh, that’s them, all right. At daylight, they go back to wherever they came from. There just saying goodbye.”

“Screeeech! Screeeech!”

“Or they might be laughing at you. Who knows?”

“Well, either way, I’m outta here!” I bellowed.

“Safe travels, miss Trish.”

“Yeah. Whatever,” I replied, putting the truck in gear and steering back on to the lonely highway.

As I pulled out, I looked in my rear-view mirror, and the man was running after me. Before my very eyes, he shape-shifted into a large white owl that was now flying right next to my car. He looked at me with the same eyes I had seen on my hood the night before.

“Well I’ll be,” I muttered. He gave a screech before he turned and flew off into the dawn sky. I could have sworn he winked at me.

“Barn-owled,” I grumbled. “Like who’s gonna believe that?”

The End