Wanted (2 page)

“Oh. Come. On!” I leaned over and glanced at the gauges. “There’s less than half a tank left, and it’s better to fill up now than before it’s too late.”

He glanced at me with a furrowed brow that told me I had won. It was already past nine, and like any practical parent, Dad wasn’t particularly fond of gas stations after dark.

“Fine, but only because I need coffee.”

I turned my head so he wouldn’t see my victory smile.

“And keep those feet off the dash.”

The next exit promised a taxpayer-funded rest stop as well as a gas station and a convenience store attached to a conglomerate of fast-food bistros compacted together. We pulled into the singular entryway only to crawl around the parking lot, attempting to look for any open spot. As we did so, it was difficult to ignore the trash blowing around everywhere and the numerous people who didn’t seem to care where they let their pets relieve themselves or where they let their children run.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and secured my sling bag across my chest. “Yikes.”

Dad rotated his neck and sighed. “Okay, forget about the parking. How about you grab us some drinks while I fuel up?” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

“I’ll get extra caffeine for you.” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before hopping out.

People all around us were honking and yelling. “You have your phone on, right?” I asked.

“Yes, Daughter.”

“Okay, Father.” I laughed.

Dad stuck his head out the open window and shouted at the van behind him. “I’m going already!”

I hustled away to avoid the horns and dirty looks that were coming in my direction. The summer was all but over, so I was surprised there were still so many kids running in and out of the main entrance, or that there were so many people there at all. Luckily, the crowds weren’t that difficult to navigate. I dodged hordes of babbling middle-aged women as they shopped for trinkets and used every ‘excuse me’ and ‘pardon me’ I had to navigate through the group of confused exchange students standing in the middle of the foyer. A toddler with a runny nose collided into my legs. He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes for a moment before a large woman grabbed his wrist and yanked him away.

I decided to use the restroom before getting in line at the coffee shop, knowing full well that Dad would be vehement about not making another stop after this one. I almost took a moment to brush out and fix my ponytail but remembered the tired Dad who was probably already waiting for me in the car, so I decided to skip it. Even as I glanced around, I felt an incredible urge to get out of the stuffy restroom that was being bombarded by all of those girls and women—I felt an overwhelming urge to escape. An automatic dryer blew in my face as I gave the door a violent shove. Despite the heat the machine gave off, I felt myself shiver, a feeling of foreboding coming over me.

I continued to avoid the crowds until I saw the neon coffee cup that indicated my intended destination. The long line was discouraging, but things seemed to be moving quickly enough, so I tried to keep my frustration in check. To occupy myself, I opened up my bag and withdrew the modest-sized coffee-table book on Da Vinci that I had been browsing through in my spare time. In the last several days, I had grown particularly fond of some of his unfinished pieces from the 1400’s. To me they seemed mysterious and exotic. I frequently liked to envision how they would have turned out if he had finished them.

“Did you know the Vitruvian Man was named after General Marcus Vitruvian? It’s s’posed to be ‘bout balance in man and all that.”

The sound of another person’s voice so close to my ear startled me. I think I must have given myself away with my reaction because the voice started to laugh a little.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” said the voice. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

When I turned, what I saw was more than surprising. While I had been admiring the fine lines of Da Vinci’s self-portraits, I hadn’t noticed the line growing behind me. In particular, I hadn’t noticed the individual standing directly behind me. He was a man some years older than me, although I couldn’t have immediately guessed through the large aviator sunglasses he was wearing. It was only the very subtle creases around his mouth that actually gave him away as being any older than me. Even then, however, I had to second guess that theory when I saw the cigarette behind his left ear, where lush, dark hair was slicked from his brow to his neckline. His neck and shoulders were buried deep in the folds of a denim jacket, and his hands were firmly tucked in his jacket pockets.

If I had been thinking properly instead of concentrating on the untraditionally handsome man behind me, I would have noticed how strange it seemed—the unusual choice in wardrobe for the humid ninety-degree heat.

But no alarm bells went off—at least not then. For the moment I was preoccupied with the exceptional line of his jaw and the ideal brow above his sunglasses. I found myself wondering what color his eyes were, and if they would be different under this fluorescent light than in the sunlight.

I actually had to remind myself to blink. “Yikes.”

“Huh?”

Hearing his voice again brought me back to myself. “You didn’t scare me.” I turned back around so he wouldn’t see me blushing; I hoped it wouldn’t spread to the bare flesh of my shoulders and cursed myself for not wearing a t-shirt instead of a tank top. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, willing the line to move faster. Behind me, I heard the distinct sound of male shoes shuffling around. Was that a Southern accent I had heard?

I put Da Vinci away and kept my eyes straight ahead, trying now to focus on anything and everything but the person behind me. But as the seconds ticked by, my heart started thumping in my chest like a caged rabbit, and the enormous building seemed far too small. Was this the craziness so many other girls had for boys? I felt myself blushing again when I thought of the stories my bunkmates used to tell at summer camp. And yet the person standing behind me was very clearly past his boyhood—

“You all right?”

His voice was so close to my ear again it nearly knocked me over. It was strangely soft, a sort of whisper. I almost I thought I had imagined it. Just the way it startled me forced me to turn again.

“You look like you’re gonna fall over.”

At least I managed my tied tongue. “I-um, just seriously need coffee.”

He seemed amused by my response and smiled for a second. I was grateful that I didn’t make a complete idiot out of myself. Still, seeing him smile at me did nothing to slow down my wild heart.

I think I felt his eyes on me for a few more seconds before I heard a phone ring. By the sound of his Southern accent responding, it must have been his.

“What?”

After a few more seconds, I heard him speak again.

“Yeah, I got it.”

I heard shoes scuffling away, but I didn’t have to turn around to know he was gone.

“Can I help you?”

“Huh? What?”

“What do you want, Miss?” An angry cashier rolled her eyes at me. I couldn’t honestly blame her; I hadn’t even realized I was the customer next in line. But for the sake of my own sanity and just to reassure my self-consciousness, I looked behind me. Sure enough, the mystery man was gone. I decided it was just as well. Someone like that and the caffeine could have easily given me a heart attack.

Maybe Dad was right and I needed to be more patient. Yet as much as I hated to be rude, I also felt increasingly guilty about making Dad wait for me. I reviewed my options. Looking around, I could see that most of the eateries had separate entrances and exits, but I’d have to get back into the herds just to get back out, and that didn’t make much sense. I tapped my foot impatiently and began counting the seconds until the entrance ways were clear when I saw two of the convenience store employees veering toward the back of the building. When I stepped up closer, I could see the red neon of EXIT blaring just above the door. The two began taking off their red aprons and one employee handed a cigarette to another. I followed the two from a distance as they pushed the large door open. In the distance, I could see the smoke of their cigarettes and moths dancing around the street lamps of the parking lot.

I sighed with irritation. If I was annoyed, I could only imagine how agitated Dad was going to be. I opened the heavy metal latch and was greeted by the humid August air. I inhaled it deeply and tried not to think about the mysterious man in line. Why would he just walk away like that? Sure, there were a million different reasons, but it still nagged at me to know why. I tried to shove the potential explanations away. Plenty of time for daydreaming on the way home, I told myself.

I set the coffee next to me on an upward groove of pavement and took my phone out of my bag. Despite the dark, there was still enough light from the lamps of the parking lot that I didn’t have a hard time rummaging around for it. I realized quickly that unlike where we first pulled in, this section of the lot seemed reserved for truck drivers and was fairly deserted. I jumped up on a torn piece of curb to catch a better look, and sure enough, there were only trucks and charter buses as far as I could see.

As I was dialing Dad’s number, I heard a noise that almost made me lose my balance. It was a wet sort of sound, only lasting a few seconds, but still, it frightened me enough that I had to wrap my arms around myself when it ruptured my ears. The echo of it seemed to unwillingly puncture the calm lot and fracture the night itself.

“Hello?” I called

All was silent. I laughed at myself. Reasonably, it was probably a cat that caught a mouse or some other unfair demonstration of nature. But then the noise happened again, only this time it was louder and ended with a most distinguished pop.

Even thinking logically, the sounds frightened me, and the peculiarity of it had me thinking that something was terribly wrong or that someone might be hurt. What if someone was injured and couldn’t call out for help? I looked back to the busy side of the parking lot where Dad was waiting for me somewhere. I had been as quick as possible in the rest stop for Dad’s sake. Hopefully taking a minute to gander around now wouldn’t bother him.

I tried to make my voice seem louder and more confident. “Hello?”

I stepped past the curb and straight into the lot. I walked slowly and with the precision of a hunter. Only unlike a hunter, I had no idea what I was looking for and no weaponry.

I took a few steps past the shiny cab of a tractor-trailer and looked just beyond the edge of an enormous semi-trailer. With every step I took I attempted to be stealthier. I couldn’t see or hear any signs of trouble—let alone anyone needing help. Still, the eerie feeling remained with me and stuck in my gullet, making my stomach churn. However, my curiosity was still dominating my sense of self-preservation, and I was still sure that if someone was in danger, it certainly wasn’t me. I clutched my phone as though it were a beloved friend, only now noticing my sweaty palms. I laughed again and wiped them on my shorts. It was obvious I was just tired, and my imagination was overloaded from worry.

I walked through the same way I came, regretting having left my coffee behind. I made the resolution that I would cut back on the mystery novels, swearing off Hitchcock and Stephen King for a while. Still, I felt relieved I had been wrong about someone needing help or being hurt. I walked through the lot, wondering what other genres might be over-stimulating my brain, when I saw an abrupt flash of bright light.