A Car Chase with Britney

I spat the bitter black liquid onto the carpet. “This is the worst coffee I’ve ever had.” The taste wouldn’t leave my tongue, clinging there.

Doctor Teeter adjusted his glasses, ignoring me as he continued to write on his pad of paper. “Mmm.” Was his only response, as usual.

This always infuriated me.

I leaned back, hating the psychologist’s office. The design of this place aims to calm patients, yet it only angered me more. Fake green plants, paintings with soft pastel colors, and worst of all, he had me sitting on something which couldn’t decide if it was a chair or a couch.

“I’ve looked over your results,” continued the middle-aged, balding man, his eyes never leaving his clipboard. “I believe you to have schizophrenia.” He finally looked up at me.

“What?” I rolled my eyes at such an absurd diagnosis. “Is this because I don’t like your crappy coffee?”

“No,” he adjusted his glasses. “Because you see things that aren’t real.”

Just when I didn’t think I could dislike him anymore, he found a way. “Like what?”

He flipped a few pages, eyes scanning. “You mentioned a man offering you a job as the Chief Executive Officer of Ford Motor Company.”

“Because Jim Farley has been embezzling money and…”

“Also,” I hate being interrupted, but the doctor moved on. “You believe that there is a group of men following you around.”

“I know their plan for overthrowing the government of Spain.”

“But you’ve never actually seen them.”

“No,” I rolled my neck. “How many times do I need to explain this? They hide when I get close!”

Doctor Teeter glared at me, his eyeballs hovering over his lenses. “Mmm.” He looked down again, writing a note as I wrung my hands together.

“This is ridiculous.” I stood up, stretching my back from my uncomfortable seat. “I’m leaving.”

He gestured to the door. “I will not stop you.”

“Thank you!”

“But remember, you have a mandate to attend my sessions once a week for the next three months.”

Oh yes, the court order. How could I have forgotten? Hold one group of people hostage and you never hear the end of it. I walked past him, opening the door, his arrogant receptionist keeping a close eye on me.

“I’ll see you next week,” said the doctor.

“Can’t wait. Have better coffee.”

I left the office.

Doctor Teeter was an idiot. I had decided that he was an angry man whose marriage and career were failing, so he took it out on his young patients who had potential. I couldn’t believe the judge had subjected me to wasting my Tuesday afternoons with him. “Just keep your mouth shut.” I muttered. “It will be over soon.”

The cold wind was strong that winter afternoon, snow coming off a nearby snowbank striking me in the face. I had a long walk to the next bus stop, turning my jacket collar up and keeping my head down. I hoped to keep some warmth inside.

The storm kept everyone home that day; only a single red car remained in the parking lot with a young woman of my age standing outside the driver's side door, the frigid temperature not bothering her in the least.

“Doctor Teeter has the worst coffee.” She said to me.

I glanced up, ice pellets dancing off my skin. “What?”

She repeated, slower this time. “Doctor Teether has the worst coffee.”

“And he doesn’t know what he’s talking about either.”

“Right,” excitement in her voice. “He told me I have borderline personality disorder.”

“What the hell is that?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “No one knows.”

We both laughed. “Hi, I’m Allen.”

She reached her hand out. “I’m Britney.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Do you need a ride somewhere?”

A gust picked up, freezing my backside. “That would be great.”

“Hop in.”

The warmth inside Britney’s car was a relief from the outside world. I was delighted that she saved me from that long, cold walk, followed by sitting in an uncomfortable bus with a group of strangers.

She spun the tires of her small Honda, speeding out of the parking lot, the back end of her car drifting sideways as she calmly corrected with the steering wheel. Once on the road, she didn't slow down, weaving through traffic and passing on the wrong side. Her unbothered demeanor hinted that this was her usual way of driving.

“You’re an aggressive driver.” I said, trying to steady myself with the door.

“Can you do me a favor?” Britney smiled at me.

“Sure.”

“A girlfriend of mine owes me some money, but she lives on a busy street. I need someone to run in real quick and grab it.”

Britney stopped abruptly, her front tire bouncing off the curb as cars honked and swerved, nearly avoiding an accident.

“Here?” We were in front of a large house with a modern design.

She nodded. “Her purse is on the kitchen table; just grab whatever’s inside.”

“And she knows you're coming?”

“Yep, I just texted her. Just be quiet; her daughter is sleeping upstairs.”

As Britney predicted, someone had left the front door unlocked. As I entered, the home seemed odd for a family. Doylies lay on tabletops with glass cabinets collecting porcelain dolls as a grandfather clock chimed in the corner.

I tiptoed down the hardwood floor as the boards squeaked under my boots. In the kitchen, a black bag rested. Inside, over a thousand dollars in bills peeked out of a wallet.

“How much does she owe you?” I muttered, grabbing the stack.

“Hello?” a fragile voice called from down the hallway.

“It’s okay, I’m getting the money you owe Britney. I don’t want to wake your daughter.”

Slipping down the steps, I scurried out as the front door slammed behind me. Britney was sitting in the car, adjusting her makeup. “Did you get it?”

I handed her the wad. “Everything in the purse.”

“Looks about right.” She stuffed the money into her pocket and bolted into traffic, horns erupting as drivers slammed on their brakes.

“Why did she owe you so much?”

“She’s helping me out. My ex-boyfriend has been stalking me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Her eyes shot wide open as she looked in her rear-view mirror. “He’s behind us now!”

Turning around, peering through the back window, there was a car right off our bumper, tailgating and flashing its headlights.

“I’ll have to outrun him.” She glanced at me. “Hold on tight.”

Her old Honda’s engine screamed to life, throwing me into the back of my seat. The blizzard closed in, the snow so thick it felt like we were driving straight through a white wall.

“How can you see?” I screamed, covering my eyes.

“Don’t worry, I know these roads.”

The car behind never gave up the chase as Britney ran red-lights, used the sidewalk to pass, and almost hit several people walking.

“I know some alleyways.” Britney slammed on the brakes as I flew into the dashboard. She turned hard to the right as I slid, landing on the center console. “These are too tight for him.”

Garbage cans and old crates lined the sides of this narrow, walled road. Cats scrambled for safety as we tore along, the side mirrors scraping the bricks.

Smash! A metal container flew forward before landing on the hood, rotten food spraying across the windshield.

“Your car?”

“We need to get away, or he’ll kill us both.”

“What? Why did you pick me up?” As the exit neared, another vehicle arrived, obstructing the passage. “Watch out!”

“He called his friends to get me.” Britney shook her head. “I knew the coward would do that.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Ram them.” She stepped harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding up as the walls closed in tighter.

Crash! We struck its front fender, sending it spinning down the icy road as plastic and metal exploded in all directions.

I let out a raw, involuntary cry. “This is insane.”

“We have to get away!”

Out onto the main road, it wasn’t any better. More of his friends were descending on us. Some even gave orders over microphones. “Stop your vehicle now and place your hands where we can see them!”

“How many friends does he have?”

“Too many. And they never give up.”

The buildings blurred with red and blue flashing lights as we sped along, more cars joining in on the chase as we barreled closer to the lake.

“Where are you going?”

“Allen,” Britney stared straight ahead, sadness in her eyes. “This is the end. I can’t keep outrunning them all.” Through the windshield, the wiper blades continued slapping back and forth as white flakes whirled past, the frozen water coming nearer. “I need him to think I’m dead.” She glanced at me. “That we’re dead.”

I grabbed the door handle, trying to open it. It was locked. “Let me out!” The car bounced over a curb, landing on the beach with no signs of slowing down. “You’re crazy!”

“Who, me?” A chilling grin unfurled across her face. “Are you sure I’m even here? Doctor Teeter doesn’t think so.”

The car spun out onto the ice sideways. Somehow holding our weight. The engine revved high as Britney kept the gas pedal on the floor, tires spinning underneath, smoke drifting up. The men chasing us all stopped at the water's edge, watching as we drifted farther from land.

“I’m heading back!” I unlocked the door, attempting to step out.

Creak! The sound of ice breaking under the car turned me cold.

My limbs were paralyzed. “What have you done?” No response, only an empty seat remained where Britney once sat.

“What the…”

The front end dropped suddenly, water splashing up over the hood as the ice broke.

I held the steering wheel tight; no longer a passenger, I was sitting in the driver's seat. “Britney?” I called out, but she had vanished, leaving me alone on this frozen wasteland. The wind howled against the sides of the car as snow piled up on the windshield.

My face was frozen, and I was starting to shiver when flashlights appeared; the people wielding them were hidden behind the bright lights. The car had been sinking deeper into the water, the thin ice barely holding it back, my feet cold and wet. “We'll get you out safety.” One man said. “Stay in your vehicle.”

A few hours later, Doctor Teeter sat down across from me, two police officers standing behind; they’d handcuffed me to a metal table. I recognized this place well; it was Colfax City’s Jail.

“So, Allen,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “What happened today?”

“We were being chased by Britney’s ex-boyfriend. We almost got killed too.” I looked at the officers. “No thanks to you!”

Doctor Teeter pulled out his notepad, taking notes. “And this Britney that you speak of. Is she a friend of yours?”

“Yes. And she’s real, so don’t start with me. She picked me up in her car. It was an early two-thousands red Honda…”

Doctor Teeter interrupted me. “Civic, two-thousand and two to be exact, and it’s a hatchback.”

Leaning back in my metal chair. “How do you know that?”

“Because that’s the exact car my receptionist drives.” He looked up from his clipboard. “Someone stole it from my parking lot immediately after you left my office.”

Now it was my turn to respond with “Mmm.” Silence fell across the interview room, Doctor Teeter locking his eyes on me. “Britney told me it was hers.” I finally interjected.

“Yes, Britney?” He flipped a few pages. “The police report says here, ‘a single male occupant, driver, name Allen Beethfield’.” He glanced up. “No mention of Britney.”

“Mmm.”

“And you broke into someone’s house prior to the police chase?”

“Britney said they owed her money.”

“How much?”

“Whatever was in the purse.”

“And you believe that?”

I hesitated, my mouth opening, searching for the right explanation. There was none. I couldn't argue with the cracks in my own story. “I don’t think Britney exists.”

Doctor Teeter didn’t react, but studied my face for a moment before calmly closing his notepad and setting it aside. He leaned forward. “Can we get Allen a cup of coffee? Nothing too bitter. He doesn’t like that.” He watched the officer leave the room. “Allen, let me help you. I know these things are real to you,” he said gently, “but they aren’t real for the rest of us. I’m not trying to change you. I’m trying to help you.”

The officer returned and set a small Styrofoam cup in front of me. My hands trembled as I picked it up. I took a cautious sip. It was warm and unexpectedly pleasant; sweet with a faint hint of cinnamon.

“You’re a good person.” Doctor Teeter continued, “But if you keep doing bad things…” He leaned back in his chair. “You’re going to be on your own.”

The room went quiet. The weight of his words sinking in, pulling me out of icy waters.

“Mmm,” I muttered, unsure whether I was agreeing with him or myself. “This is lovely coffee,” I said softly.

Doctor Teeter nodded. “Give me two months.”

I stared into the cup, watching the steam curl upward, breathing in the smell. “I’m tired of living in fear,” I said, my voice quieter now. I looked up at him. “If you think this will help,” I took another drink. “Thank you, Doctor Teeter.”