Come On Down!

Dear Mr. Carey,

Look, I get it. I know you’re just the host–an actor, really– and that you probably don’t have anything to do with picking the prizes the contestants win. And, yes, it has occurred to me that you may not even believe in haunted cars. I didn’t used to. But things have been so out of control for me since I came home with her. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but it’s hard to think when you can’t sleep. You’re my last resort, Mr. Carey. Honestly, I have no idea if you can help.

I don’t know why you’d remember me. You’ve probably had hundreds of contestants since then. But I was on that Big Golden Anniversary Special show with the live jazz band and the confetti cannons and Andy Dick and everything. You remember that, right? I was the Plinko guy who kept shouting “NO WAY, ANGELA, NO WAY!!!” at my girlfriend every time the chip would land. That was a really good day, Mr. Carey. One of the last I can remember. You gave me $20k for playing Golden Anniversary Plinko. Nobody wins that much. I wish I’d waked out after that.

But then I did the Showcase Showdown. And I won them both. Both Showcases. That hardly ever happens. Everybody went nuts. It was a trip to Austin, a bunch of fancy sunglasses, a leather recliner, and that 2020 Nissan Sentra.

That’s what I’m writing you about. I need your help with the car. You have to take it back, Mr. Carey. The car and Melanie.

It started right after we got home from Austin. I’d sold my old Saturn and with that plus what was left of the Plinko money I pretty much paid the taxes on all the prizes.

I heading home in the Sentra after work, I’d just gotten off at my exit and I heard her. It was the quietest little voice. Kind of low for such a tiny lady. She was singing, just kind of absent-mindedly to herself–it was the theme from your show, Mr. Carey. “Ba-ba-ba-daa. Ba-ba-ba-daa.” I mean, you know it. So all the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I hit the brakes. I turned around and there was nobody there.

I figured I had imagined it. I mean, I was exhausted from all the travel and everything. But then she started again, right next to my ear this time. So quiet. “Ba-ba-ba-daa.” I screamed and turned around. I think I hit a curb. Nothing there. But when I looked in the rearview I could see her. Sitting in the back seat. Hair permed. Sunken eyes. Big dangly earrings. Smiling just a little. She’s always smiling. I threw the car in park and jumped out. I looked in the back in but there was nobody there.

I was freaked out but I was just half a block from my place so I left the car there. Walked home and went to bed. Angela woke me up the next morning. “Where’s the car?” It took me a while to remember but then it sounded so crazy I couldn’t say it. “I parked in front of Stu’s so it doesn’t get all that tree sap on it.” She looked at me like I was crazy anyway.

None of it made sense. Of course there’s not a weird ghost lady in my new car. So I drove it to work that afternoon, didn’t think of it again till I was almost back home. “Ba-ba-ba-daa.” I my heart felt like it was gonna explode. I checked the mirror and there she was. Smiling a little. Didn’t seem to notice me at all. Sure, I was scared, but this made no sense so I took a longer look. I reached up and moved the mirror down. She’s got on this neon green sweatshirt with sparkly pink puff-paint across the front. “Melanie,” it says, but backwards cause it’s in the mirror. And I’m shaking, but I move the mirror down a little more and there’s these mom jeans but then they just kind of vanish before the knee. And then I notice she’s got something in her hand--she’s holding it tight against her thigh and she starts to lift it up. I got scared and tried to talk to her “No Ma’am, there’s no need to...Melanie!” She brings it up level with her head and I realize it’s just a piece of construction paper with more of that glitter puff-paint on it. “Come on down!” It just says “Come on down!” and her smile starts to get wider and wider and...I don’t remember how I got to bed that night.

“I think I’m gonna trade in that car,” I told Angela the next day. She was surprised, but she just goes along with stuff. I took it to the Nissan dealership and they appraised it while I looked around the lot.

I was checking out one of those electric cars and the dealership guy comes out with this little black notebook. “I’m not sure we can give you much for that Sentra, Sir, Can you tell us what the smell is?”

There was no smell, Mr. Carey. I never smelled a smell. But the Nissan guy said it was so bad one of their mechanics threw up. I got in the Sentra and drove toward home. Melanie sat back there singing her little song the whole way back.

This was just the start. I tried selling it on Facebook. Every time somebody would look at it something would go weird. The doors would stay locked or the alarm would go off or oil light would come on. Nobody wanted to pay enough for me a quarter of what it was worth. She’d ruin it every time.

I started taking the bus to work. Left the car in the driveway. Thought I could avoid Melanie altogether, but she found me. One night I was brushing my teeth and there she was. In the mirror holding that sign in front of her stupid face. “Come on Down!” it said, and then she lowered it until I could see her eyes and then her smile and her weird long neck. I spat out my toothpaste and ran down to the car. I punched out the passenger windows and screamed at her to leave me alone.

Next morning, the windows were fine. I took the bus to work but I knew it wouldn’t matter. She found me in the bathroom mirror that night and then in the living room one the next morning. Next night I saw her reflection in Angela’s glasses. I screamed and shook. After a couple of weeks Angela stopped staying over. I told her it was for the best. I started taking the car to work again. I’d swerve a little into oncoming traffic just to see if I could make Melanie flinch. She never did. Just smiled wider “Ba-ba-ba-daa. Ba-ba-ba-daa.” It wakes me up in the middle of the night. It runs in my head even when she’s not around.

There’s no reason you’d remember me, Mr. Carey, but I kind of have a feeling you will. During the break when we were standing over by The Big Wheel you asked me if I was from Los Angeles. I looked up at you and you looked so tired. I think you were shaking a little bit. Then you looked at the floor where it’s super shiny and I saw you jump a little bit. Just a flinch. Like you saw something down there. You shook it off and smiled and then looked at me and said “Are you ready to spin? I think you’re about to win big.”

Mr. Carey, I think maybe you’ve met Melanie. I think you got rid of her once, Mr. Carey. How did you do it? I’m gonna be outside the studio gate every day next week. Just me and Melanie. I hope you’ll decide to help. I don’t know what I might do if you won’t. Come on down.