The Backseat

I came into awareness slowly, my thoughts moving like my mind was wading through a sea of molasses. My whole body felt almost drugged with sleep, my arms were too heavy to move and my eyes refused to open. My feet and my back were pressed against something pliant yet unyielding. I couldn’t straighten out even if I wanted to.

Something warm and soft was draped over my body and I could smell the overpowering scent of coffee. A deep rumble seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, like the whole world was humming. Whatever I was laying on was firm and lumpy, and it bounced sporadically like a torso heaving with laughter. My neck was bent at an awkward angle that I could feel developing into a crick in my neck, but even then my body was too sluggish to try to adjust.

It took a little while to muster up the energy to open my eyes, but I managed to crack them open just enough to see some vague shapes. Two tall, tan rectangles stood maybe a little distance apart in front of me. There was a deep gap just inches from my face that separated me from them. I blinked hard and tried to open my eyes wider, but the shapes stayed blurry, and my vision seemed to swim. Ah, I probably took my glasses off before I fell asleep. I couldn’t see further than a foot without them. Oh, well. I was too tired to try to find them.

I squinted, trying to make sense of what I saw, but everything in my head was jumbled together like a bunch of snakes, twisting and tangling around each other in a indecipherable mass. That reminded me of a snake I found once, Somewhere around the boulders I liked to climb in the desert during family hikes. It had scared me half to death, but I got around it, and it was worth it when I got to the top. I could see for miles, and all the giant saguaro cacti looked tiny. It was best to go climbing in the fall or the spring when the weather cooled off since summer was hot enough to kill. Every year there was a story in the news of some idiot who went for a hike and died from heatstroke. My dad was smart enough to wait, though. The tan shapes actually reminded me of the boulders, only they were both exactly the same size and shape as one another. Boulders were never exactly alike.

A sudden strong bounce shifted me, and something dug into my hip. A box? Whatever it was, it was uncomfortable, but I was still too lazy to move. Boy, was I tired. I could feel a muscle in my thigh twitching, and I tried flexing it a little to get it to stop.

Everything bobbed again, and gravity started pulling me upside-down, then went back to normal. What? Oh. My mind slowly started putting the pieces together. Why did it take me so long to realize? I was laying across the back seats of a car. The buckle was digging into my hip. That made sense. My dad and I were going on a camping trip, and sometimes it took a long time to get to the site, especially if there was traffic. We probably left a while ago, and I fell asleep.

When was that?

I rolled my head slowly to the side until I could see through the window above me. The sky was bright blue with a few scattered clouds. Since it looked around midday, we probably left a while ago. I didn’t bother trying to figure out exactly how long. All I knew was that the drive was probably far, and if we wanted to make it there in time to set up the tent, we would have had to leave early in the morning.

I stared at the sky a little longer. One of my favorite shirts was the same color of blue that the sky was right now. Was I wearing it today? My head moved sluggishly when I looked down to check, but a blanket was covering everything below my neck, all the way down to my feet. The blanket was brown, with darker brown spots in a camo-print. It smelled funny. Like rubbing alcohol and something dusty. It reminded me too much of the hospital, and I found myself wishing for the smell of grease and metal that had seeped into all of my dad’s things. It always reminded me of feeling safe with him in the shop. When was the last time I was there?

I thought about it hard, my mind moving lethargically. Maybe yesterday? Yeah. Just before spring break started. We had decided to go on a road trip to go camping and fishing at Roosevelt Lake for some father-son time. It was spring, too, so it was the perfect time to go because the fish would be waking up after winter, and they would be hungry. Plus the heat wouldn’t be so bad. We had to wait for a while before we could go, though, since dad had to finish up some things before he could close the shop. He said that we’d leave the day after he was done. There were some people who were also going on vacation and needed their air conditioner fixed or something. And then a husband and wife who said they were on a road trip across America needed a dent fixed. I ended up talking to them for a while.

They were nice. Their car looked like them, too, somehow. Humble but reliable, sweet in a domestic way. A little brown compact car that had a little heart with an arrow through it dangling off of the rear-view mirror. I remembered it because I joked that they should get the classic furry dice and they said that the heart represented their relationship better. They told me how they met through their hobby, hunting, and I told them about how I wanted to be a musician rather than become a mechanic like my dad, and how he supported me anyway. How I didn’t know much about cars, but I loved music. It was something indescribable and epic, and I wanted to write music just like that one day.

Something about the couple upset me, though. Blood and deer and shoes danced through my head, but none of those things made sense. Maybe they laughed at my dream. A lot of people did, especially when they found out that I didn’t want to go to college. I wished there was some music playing right now. It would help me calm down, but I knew my dad didn’t like to listen to music while he drove. I usually just listened on my headphones and fell asleep in the passenger seat, but I didn’t know where they were. I didn’t even know where my phone was. The thought sent a jolt of unnecessary panic through me, and I squashed it down. My dad had probably put it somewhere for me. It was nice of him to let me sleep on the back seats this time, actually. I must have been really tired, because he usually made me sit up front anyway. He always stressed how important safety was.

I opened my eyes again, drowsiness dragging at my mind. I must have fallen back asleep without realizing. I felt a little more awake this time, but my body still felt heavy, and I could feel my thigh muscle twitching again. I turned my head up to look out the window, and I winced when my neck ached even more than before. The weather had changed. The sky was dim and gray, and there were raindrops tapping on the roof of the car like tiny, running feet. I could see the dark, upside-down shapes of trees slipping by as we passed. I hadn’t realized that there were that many on the way to the Lake, but then again, I was usually lost in my own mind when I wasn’t the one driving.

I blinked sluggishly. I heard voices. Was my dad talking to himself? He usually only did that when he got lost. He liked to swear at his phone while he tried to figure out where he was without following the GPS. He always said that it didn’t ever work right. Normally I’d be up there to help navigate, but I was still so tired. I couldn’t remember ever being this tired before.

What did I do last night that made me this exhausted? I couldn’t remember. My mind felt like it was stuffed with wool, the last thing I could remember was talking to dad about dinner before I closed up shop. Everything after that was fuzzy.

Something felt… wrong.

I rolled my head back to squint at the front seat and saw his large hand making circular gestures in the space between the driver and passenger side, like he was explaining something to someone. I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, since he was talking too quietly, but he didn’t seem too angry yet. He had a short temper when it came to technology because he couldn’t seem to get the hang of his phone. He still refused to put a lock on it because he always forgot what his password was. I tried explaining to him how it was better to have one and that he could ask me what it was, but he always said he only ever put our home address on his phone for the GPS apps, so it was fine. Who would want to know where we lived, anyway?

Dad’s voice sounded deeper than usual, though. Was he sick? I hoped not. I liked our trips together, and it would suck if we had to leave early, especially since mom’s anniversary was coming up. It was hard, but I focused until I could pick up bits and pieces of what he was saying.

“……weather clears up before……. make it harder…………….interesting……probably take our time, since………..”

Was he talking about our trip?

“…….don’t want…repeat……………………almost got…….planned better this………much farther out…”

Maybe he remembered our last fishing trip differently. I think I had fun, but maybe he had a bad time. When did we go last? I furrowed my eyebrows. It didn’t feel too long ago, but I couldn’t quite remember. My brain was too foggy. I tried lifting my arm to rub my eyes, but it was still too heavy. Was our last trip the one up to Lake Pleasant? Yeah, I remembered coming home from it, and dad going back to work. What day was it, though?

A slender hand reached out from the passenger side and grasped my dad’s, and a new voice suddenly spoke, just as quiet, but much higher pitched.

“….worry too much……..”

Wait. Who was that? It sounded like a woman, but Dad said that he could never marry anyone else after Mom, so he never dated or anything. Was that Aunt June? No, that wasn’t right either. I could see something shiny on her hand, a ring, and Aunt June hated rings because her fingers always got stuck.

I tried getting up, but nothing felt like it was working, and I ended up just squirming around. My head spun and I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. I grunted, and both voices stopped. My heart was pounding.

The deeper voice spoke up.

It wasn’t my dad.

“Hey, kiddo, welcome to the land of the living! I didn’t think you would wake up so soon.” A huge hand reached back and ruffled my hair forcefully. My skin crawled, and I pulled my head back. The higher voice laughed.

“Honey, be nice.”

My breathing was getting harder. I was wide awake, now, but I still couldn’t move. I couldn’t see who they were. Their voices were completely unfamiliar. I tried talking, but my throat was dry, and all that came out was a croak. My thigh twitched again. I couldn’t understand what was going on.

A hand reached back again, and I flinched and closed my eyes. Something slipped onto my face. My glasses. I opened my eyes, breathing hard. A woman was staring at me, her fingers interlaced over the shoulder of the seat, one of them sporting a wedding ring, and her chin resting on top. The man turned his head and smiled at me. He was wearing glasses and a light brown sweater. A heart with an arrow through it dangled from the rearview mirror. I recognized them.

“Do you remember us, kiddo? We talked for a while at the shop.”

I was starting to hyperventilate. Bits and pieces were coming back to me with the speed and violence of a flash flood. There had been a wallet covered in blood under their backseat. These people had killed someone. I was laying in that same backseat. I writhed around, trying to move my arms or my legs, but something thin dug into my skin and kept them together. My vision started swimming again, so I stopped and closed my eyes. My mind was reeling. I was going to throw up.

“Oh, sweetheart, he’s starting to panic, should give him some more of the good stuff?”

“Why not,” he shrugged his shoulders as if she had just asked if they should stop for food, “it should be another hour or two before we get to the spot.”

He pulled the car over to the side of the road, and the woman got out, passing the window over my head and opening the trunk. My heart thundered in my ears. My body and my thoughts froze with the panic building in my throat like bile.

The door above my head opened. The scenery behind the woman looming above me was nothing like Arizona. She was holding a syringe. She jabbed the needle into my shoulder and I felt the uncomfortable burn of liquid being forcefully pushed into my body. I flinched as the door slammed shut above my head. She settled back into the passenger seat and the car started moving again. I stared at the heart dangling from the rearview mirror until my vision started to swim. The wound made by the arrow seemed to bleed as my vision went black.