Disappearance (20 page)

With no time to waste if I want to see the black car, I make my way downstairs to check the time. Seven thirty in the morning -- just enough time to eat and get my supplies ready.

Tabby comes downstairs and it occurs to me she hasn't eaten anything since I've seen her. She drank what seemed like the entire creek yesterday, which was filled with six days worth of my body odor. Maybe I shouldn't have let her lick my face.

"Poor Tabby, you must be starving."

I grab an extra bowl and fill it with cereal. To my surprise, when I put it down she doesn't seem too eager to dig in. She gives it a sniff then walks away.

"What, are you not a cereal fan? I'm sorry; I don't have any other food for you. I'll see if I can get you some later."

I wasn't planning on going out to find a grocery store today but with the way my arm feels, I might. First I have a date with the black car, though.

I eat my cereal as quickly as I can and start rounding up my supplies. Ax - check. Gun with ammo - check. Water and aspirin - check.

What else do I need? If I still had my siphon I could make sure I'm all topped off, but unfortunately I don't have that option. I'd almost forgotten about my car's mysterious disappearance. I still have no good explanation for that. Like murder mysteries, I'll probably never find out.

Unable to think of anything else to take with me, I make my way to the garage. As I do, Tabby rushes ahead of me to the door.

"Hey girl, I'm not sure it's a good idea that you come for this."

I use my foot to try to push her away, but she's a sneaky little gal. When I close the garage door behind me she manages to get past me and jump in the car.

"You little twerp," I say affectionately. "Alright, I guess you can come. "

Tabby sits in the front passenger seat. When I get in I put my loaded gun and other supplies next to her. It feels very unsafe; I'm the worst parent EVER!

Anxiousness builds inside me and I tell myself to relax. After all, if I shoot and miss I can always come back the next day. This is assuming the car even comes (which there's no guarantee of).

I turn the car on and make my way down the long gravel driveway. I check the time and it's only eight o'clock but I want to give myself plenty of time. Most people agree it's a good quality to be punctual, and I agree. But it can be stressful never being late.

As I make my way toward the highway, I approach the turn that leads to Cujo's house. Waiting by the highway for an hour will drive me crazy so I decide to check up on him. When I get there, it's hard to see where he is until I get right up next to the driveway. When I do, I see Cujo is now gone!

I have no doubt I'm looking in the right spot. As traumatic as that event was, I can probably get out and point within one inch of the spot he was laying in only a day before.

I grab my gun and get out, Tabby trying to follow along behind me.

"No, Tabby! Not this time, you stay here."

I close the door in her face and she gives me a disapproving meow.

When I walk over, I think back to not only what Cujo looked like but the ground around him. I remember blood everywhere and thinking that a dog like that couldn't possibly bleed that much.

I see nothing on the ground, though. Like Abby's black BMW that vanished along with everything around it, Cujo has disappeared. He's gone and all the blood and pieces of his body seem to be missing too.

Logically thinking, Cujo getting cleaned up seems way more possible than the car disappearing. I think, given one full day, I could have Cujo taken away and soak up enough of the blood to make the yard look good as new.

Somehow I don't think this is what happened. If I wouldn't have experienced the same situation with the car I may think otherwise, but I'm beginning to think it's all just a fairy tale with no rational reason behind the things that are happening.

I look around just to make sure there isn't even a hint of blood on the ground but there isn't. Cujo has disappeared like the car, like everyone else. Nothing makes sense anymore.

I walk back to the car, Tabby looking at me with her little nose pressed against the window.
I wonder what she's thinking right now.
When I get in she doesn't try to come over. She stays by the passenger side window and only looks over at me for a moment before turning her attention back to the window.

I put the gun back in the passenger seat, turn the ignition on, and make my way to the highway. Tabby looks out the window, not seeming to be her regular self. I've known this cat for less than a day now and I've already become the worried parent.

When I get to the highway, there is a cross lane to make an illegal U-turn if needed. I figure this is as good a place as any to camp out. After all, I'm not sure what direction the black car will be coming from. I think back to previous days and it's all been very random where the black car has been. Wherever I am, it finds a way to show up. It's best that I be in a position to chase down the car from either side of the road.

I check the time again – eight thirty. I figure now is a good time to get everything in place. I take my gun and the box of bullets. If it speeds past me, I'll only have time for one good shot - maybe two - but I want to have the bullets near me just in case.

Seeing me grab my gun seems to get Tabby out of her daze. She looks up at me like a worried mother looks at her son before leaving for military duty.

"It's OK Tabby. Nothing bad is going to happen."

I've just told my first lie to my baby. Something bad is about to happen. I'm not sure what, or if it will be bad for the car or me, but something bad is definitely going to happen soon.

Every minute I turn my head from one side of the highway to the other. To keep myself occupied, I recheck the holster to make sure the gun is locked and loaded.

Getting antsier, I check the time and see I still have twenty minutes before they should arrive. This is too much time to waste standing here so I get ready to do another test shot with the gun to make sure it's working. The last thing I want is to be in the perfect position only to discover the safety is on or the gun isn't firing for whatever reason.

The "No U-Turn" sign seems to be the perfect target practice. As always, I get into position far enough away that I don't think debris will come back and hit me. I aim, this time able to stretch out my arm far enough that I can look down the barrel and properly aim. The sign is large from this distance that it only takes a second to measure it up. Then, I pull the trigger.

The gun kicks up into the air. I almost fall to the ground from the explosion. When the smoke clears I see the sign has been blasted to bits. I love this gun!

I'm glad I did the test run, because now I know I need to have a better stance to keep my balance. For this shot I was standing as if I were getting ready to walk. Instead, I now know I need to have my left foot well out in front of my right. Common sense, I'm sure, for most country boys, but I grew up without getting my hands dirty.

I'm now confident and ready for the black car. I look in the car window and see it's 8:58. It's amazing how time can slow down when you don't want it to. I look down at Tabby who is staring at me with her worried face.

"I'm worried too Tabby, it's OK."

I turn my head from side to side every five seconds trying to find the black car. I can visualize it coming down the highway as far as I can see. It moves at breakneck speed as I get my gun ready. When it gets close, I take aim at a front tire and pull the trigger. It hits and the black car spins out of control tumbling over - finally stopping at my feet.

That's the fairy tale scenario. If it were a week ago I might have expected it to happen like that. Now, I know even the simplest things have proven difficult.

More minutes pass but there's no sign of the black car anywhere. It's now time for it to be here.

The silence of the world around me is still hard to adjust to. In the regular world there's almost always some kind of sound to distract your attention, whether it's the TV, the radio, having a conversation, or the regular clicks and clacks you hear at work. Even when you're outside, you hear birds or cars or something. It's never totally silent... except for this past week.

That's why it's easy to hear the black car coming up behind me. It makes its way up the road I just came from. Unlike every other time I've seen the black car, it's moving at the speed limit. It approaches the stop sign that leads to the highway, which is only about thirty yards from where I'm standing. Adding further to my surprise, the black car comes to a complete stop.

The car is close enough that I can see clearly there still isn't anyone behind the wheel. It stays stopped like it's looking at me and wondering what I'm going to do.

The truth is I have no idea what to do. This wasn't part of the plan. I hold my gun tight in both hands, wondering if I should shoot at one of the tires. My hands are shaking but I could probably steady them enough to hit them. Something inside of me is telling me this isn't what I should do, though.

Instead, I take one slow, careful step toward the black car. Then another. Worst case, I figure, if it speeds after me I can dodge out of the way. Since it's so close, it can't gain much speed at me.

I continue walking and the black car remains still. I don't hear the engine running; does this mean it's electrically powered? Since I've never seen this type of car before I can only assume that's why it's not making any noise.

I make my way to the driver's side window and realize I'm afraid to even touch the car - images of being shocked to death flow through my mind. I peek inside to see if anyone's hiding somewhere inside, but it's empty. It's just sitting here as if it's off in a parking lot somewhere.

I decide I'm going to touch the car, just to see what happens and because I want to get inside. I reach my left hand out and touch the window... nothing. No electrocution, no engine kicking back on, no movement. Nothing.

I try opening the door but it's locked.
Go figure
.

I'm stumped on what to do next. Should I take a shot at one of the windows? I'm so scared now I can hardly breathe. I ask myself why I'm this terrified. It's just a car; I'm in no real danger unless it somehow self-destructs. Then I remember something said in one of my psychology classes in college discussing how we are afraid of the unknown. That's what is making me so scared. I have no clue what this damn car is going to do next. It could transform into an alien spaceship for all I know.

My emotions turn to anger and without thinking I kick the side of the car hard.

"What the hell do you want from me?"

I look around, hoping to spot someone watching. I'll bet they're getting a good laugh out of this. Fortunately I don't see anyone, because I wouldn't hesitate for a second to let my gun loose on them. I'm no person to be messing with right now.

That's it. I can't take it any more. I take several steps back, a safe distance from anything that could fly back at me. I hold up my gun, aiming to make the bullet go through the driver and passenger side front windows. My hand is shaking uncontrollably as I put my finger on the trigger. Feet apart this time, taking one deep breath, I fire.

The bullet ricochets off the window and I'm fortunate it doesn't come back and hit me. I move to the side to fire my next round. This time I shoot at the body of the car. When I look I expect to see a good size dent at least, but instead it makes a loud ding and that's it. No visible damage to the car. I could empty out all of the bullets I have and this car would sit there and smile at me.

The last thing I can think to try is one of the tires. There's no way a tire could be bulletproof could it? I stand back, making sure again to have a good angle so it doesn't bounce back and kill me. I pull the trigger but instead of a loud bang, I hear a click - I'm out of bullets.

I forget this isn't the movies where the guns have an endless supply of ammo. This is real life - or some distorted version of it.

Having no bullets in my gun I feel defenseless. This needs to be corrected at once. The box of bullets is on the ground by the Honda. I start walking backwards toward them, making sure to keep my eyes on the car. If it speeds towards me, I'm close enough that I could dodge it.

I feel like I'm in a western, giving the stare down to an enemy. As I take another backwards step, the back of my foot hits the bullets. I pick them up and go behind the car to reload. That way, if the car does speed toward me while I'm distracted, I'll at least have a car between us to minimize the blow.

I reload, making sure to keep my eyes on the black car as much as possible. I look at Tabby who is lying on the dashboard watching me. It's hard for me to gage her reaction. Cats would make excellent poker players.

I walk back to the car with the fully loaded gun in my hands. I go to the passenger side this time and peek inside again. All I see is a very clean and polished black interior.

I try the passenger door, fully expecting it not to open. With great surprise, though, when I pull on the handle it does open. How odd, the driver's side is locked but the passenger door is unlocked?

This newfound discovery has opened up a world of new possibilities. I step into the car and sit down on the leather seats. I can now see that the lights in the dashboard are, in fact, on. Was it like this before or did it just happen when I opened the door? Regardless, the car is on now. A single key is turned on in the ignition, as well as a large button by the steering wheel with a blue light that says "On".

I lay my gun down and crawl into the drivers seat. Something tells me this is going to be a very fun car to drive. I reach for the safety belt and realize there isn't one - not on the other side either. That's just great, any collision in this car and I'll be flying through the window. I reach over to put the car into drive but it's stuck. How on Earth is it stuck? Then I realize I didn't put my foot on the brake. "Ahhh, you dummy!" This shows how nervous I am. I take a deep breathe and try to calm myself down. I put my foot on the brake and try again to put it in drive, but it's still stuck.