Unraveling

The limousine was late.

Betty stamped her foot in frustration.

“We’ll miss the first dance!”

“Now, Bets…” her mother, Nona, began, but then ran out of things to say. She sat on the rocker on the porch, rocking gently, the ‘click, click, click,’ of her crochet needles doing her talking for her.

Nona was knitting a dress for her daughter using the Tunisian technique, blending of pale white and periwinkle blue with the occasional strand of black yarn into a squarish knit. It had been a new way of crocheting for her. The long needles were tricky, and the yarn kept slipping off them. She had all but finished it. Only the elaborate finessing around the neckline remained to be finished.

“Maybe I’ll wait at the end of the drive. It’ll save some time,” Betty said.

“Whatever you wish, dear,” she sighed.

Their farmhouse was set way back from the main highway down a dirt road, pot-holed and guttered. Desiccated corn stalks created a barrier on each side hiding the farmhouse from view once you turned north.

Betty’s mom paused in her crocheting to watch her daughter vanish around the bend. A tear ran down her cheek.

Betty’s prom dress was a flowing white crocheted gown with a cascade of blue flowers with tiny black buds down the front–cut lower than her mom preferred, but Betty had insisted that she was seventeen now and not some child! Her mom finally agreed.

Nona stopped knitting. A red stain had appeared at the hem of the dress. It slowly seeped upward, as if the yarn was sipping it up. With practiced hands she began unravelling her work from the bottom up. Her needles and hands became stained red.

Betty swept down the dirt path to the highway. Her gown trailed in the dirt, she didn’t notice the creeping red stains. The moon was nearly full, so she could see her way well enough.

“What is wrong with them? I told James to be on time! I bet Holly wasn’t ready. She’s never ready!” Betty cursed aloud. She tugged at the unfinished neckline, pulling it down to expose more cleavage.

Betty arrived at the rural two-lane blacktop. She looked both ways down the highway. No cars were in sight, which was not unusual, as the nearest small town, Piedmont, was a good twelve miles away. Piedmont High–home of the Fighting Jaguars–was where the Senior Ball was being held.

Betty tapped her foot angrily. She folded her arms, then unfolded them. She made an angry face.

Then she noticed the mailbox’s flag was up. She couldn’t remember, did that mean mail or no mail?

The large, battered and rusted mailbox, which teetered on a splintered wooden pole, was shaped and painted to resemble a happy cow, although now faded to a near shadow of its formal self.

She looked up and down the empty highway one more time before deciding to check it. No letters, but someone had left flowers and a tall glass candle inside.

She pulled them out. The flowers were dried almost to powder and the votive candle with an image of Mother Mary was peeling and covered in dust. There was no note.

There was never a note.

Every time she checked the mail, it was the same two items inside. Who kept doing this? Did she have a secret admirer? She hid the flowers and candle back inside the mailbox. James could be so jealous.

Betty didn’t notice that her dress had shortened as she walked out into the middle of the road. It was now just below her knees. She turned to face Piedmont, and with hands on hips she challenged the limousine to arrive. Then she noticed twin worn skid marks on the road. Bored, she traced their trajectory, back and forth. Then she saw twin lights approaching, still miles away.

Finally!

Nona kept unraveled her crocheting, staying just ahead of the creeping stain. She rolled the yarn into a loose skein.

The twin lights on the highway grew closer. Betty’s anticipation was overwhelming. She paced back and forth on the highway. Her prom dress now barely covered her upper thighs.

Inside the limousine, two high-school couples had just attended their prom. Although they were already quite drunk and high, the boys had snuck in some joints and were passing them around.

Pam took a deep toke, then handed it to Susie.

A dark, puzzled look clouded Pam’s face. She looked out the window.

“Hey! Why are we going this way?”

“Which way?” Jason asked.

“Route 49.”

“I thought you said you wanted to go to the Holiday Inn in Athena?”

Pam made a face. “I never said that.”

“You did.”

“No, you did, and I said no.”

“You said, maybe.”

“You never give up, do you?”

“I was voted most persistent in the yearbook,” he smiled.

“You were voted most obnoxious,” Tom laughed. “And I should know, as I was the year-book editor.”

“He’s got you there, Jay!” Susie Tom’s date, laughed.

Susie took a deep toke and tilted her head back as she exhaled a vast cloud. She noticed the limo had a sunroof.

“Woot! A sunroof! Does anyone know how to open this?”

Tom looked around and found the switch. The sunroof slid open.

“Hell, ya!” Susie rose and poked her head and shoulders out of the roof. The warm wind blew her long hair.

Noticing how unsteady she was, Tom grabbed her legs.

His hands crept up her legs.

Susie laughed.

“Stop it! That tickles!”

Jason laughed. “That’s what she said.”

“Original,” Tom retorted.

“Pammy! You got to join me! There’s room for two!” Susie called down.

Pam shook her head, nervous.

Susie dropped inside and grabbed Pam’s arm to pull her up.

“Don’t be such a twat!” she grinned.

Pam reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled up.

The warm, rushing wind hit her smack in the face, making her eyes tear.

Susie, seemingly not bothered, screamed happily into the rushing night, “Yah baby! This is the life!”

“Suze! Don’t!” Pam yelled. “Remember that crash a few years back? They say this road is haunted by a–”

“Wait! I see something!” Suzie cried out. “What is that?”

Pam could just make out a blurry shape, dead ahead. Pacing back and forth in the middle of the road. It looked like a pale girl.

“Why is she standing in the middle of the road?” Suzie leaned forward.

Pam saw the girl waving at them to stop. They weren’t even slowing down. She dropped back down into the limo and buried her face in her hands.

Betty watched the limo approaching rapidly.

“Finally! I am going to give James a piece of my mind if we miss even one dance tonight!”

Betty then noticed two women sticking out of the sunroof. They both looked pale and frightened.

“That’s not Holly.” Betty squinted into the night, confused. “Who are they?”

She watched as one girl dropped out of sight.

The limo never slowed.

The driver was busy texting his girlfriend.

“Why aren’t they slowing down?” Betty wondered.

She tried to step out of their way, but found she couldn’t move. She looked down to see her legs were gone. Her dress was gone. She was marble cold; stark naked. Fading away.

The limo was now only yards away.

Betty stood pale in the bright headlights–trying to stare down the inevitable.

She could hear the girl scream, “Get out of the way you idiot!”

The driver looked up just in time to see something? He swerved and hit the brakes. His braking left skid marks across the road.

He got out in a panic.

But found nothing.

Nona had completely unraveled the dress. She could hear the screech of tires on the highway even from all the way from where she sat.

It was that quiet of a night.

The moon slid behind a cloud.

Complete darkness.

Then the porch was illuminated by the opened front door.

Betty stepped onto the porch.

“What was that screech?”

“Just another fool on the highway,” Nona said, hiding her tears.

Betty looked down at the blue skein of yarn at her mom’s feet.

“Are you sure you’re going be able to knit that dress in time for the prom, Mom? You know Jason asked me.”

Betty’s smile was beatific, her anticipation was palpable.

Nona looked away toward the highway.

“Yes, dear. There’s time. Plenty of time,” she whispered.