Lost In Place

It was the giant raindrop that plunked squarely on Carey’s head that made her stop walking and really take in her surroundings.  She had been moving nonstop since leaving her home, or what she’d considered home until earlier that day.  

         She couldn’t stop replaying the scene in her head.  She wasn’t sure how many times she’d have to go over it before she would fully grasp what had happened and what she should do.

         “It didn’t mean anything.  I made a stupid mistake.”

         Carey held the credit card receipt by her fingertips.  It was dripping with tuna oil.

         “Is that why you tried to destroy the evidence?  Because it didn’t mean anything?”

         “Because I knew this is just how you’d react.  It’s not like we ever agreed to be exclusive, Car.”

         She dropped the paper back into the trash.

         “Doesn’t this home mean anything to you?”

         “It means we both can afford a better place than we could otherwise.  I’m not sure what contract it is you think you signed.”

         Carey held her breath, began counting, almost made it to five.

         “I can’t begin to imagine the assumptions and rationalizations you must carry around in your head.  How would you feel if I spent a few hours in a hotel and then tried to hide the fact?”

“I’ve apologized.  I admit it was a dumbass move on my part.  If it means anything, she came on to me, not the other way around.”

         Suddenly, Carey forgot how to count.

         “You know what it means?  It means I’m out of here, you dirtbag!”

         “Thar she blows.  I thought you were better than this, honestly.”

         Carey took a duffle bag out of the closet and threw some clothes and essentials together.

         “Leave me alone.  I’m no longer interested in anything you have to say.”

         “Have you thought about where you’re going?  Why don’t you wait.  Just cool down and let’s work it out.”

         “Well, well.  It looks like I’m not the only one who has trouble cooling down.  Which would you prefer cool down first, hot stuff?  Your lust or my disgust?”

         “Oh, that’s mature.”

         “No, that’s restraint.  You don’t want to hear what I said in my head.”

         Carey opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

         “I’ll get the rest of my things later, when you’re not here.  And don’t even think about changing the locks.”

         “I won’t have to.  You’ll be back.”

         Carey had run out of words.  She reached for the door and slammed it shut.  Swallowing the scream lodged in her throat in one large gulp, she swung the duffle over her shoulder, straightened her back, and began walking.

*.    *.    *

The rain was beginning to pick up and Carey could hear rumbling close by.  She scanned the area around her.  

This was a route she was used to driving through, hadn't spent any real time exploring, and never on foot.  Her car was being serviced so she had no choice but to walk.  Earlier she’d passed people waiting at bus stops, carrying laundry to and from the local laundromat, singles or couples walking dogs and pushing kids in strollers.  

As the rain started coming down heavier and steadier, the street before her quickly emptied.  She looked to see if there was a bus stop nearby, but there was none in sight.  She remembered a gas station at the corner and saw that its lights were on.  She headed to it.

There was a small convenience store attached to the cashier near the pumps.  Carey rushed the last few steps to the entrance and rubbed her feet on the mat once inside.  She noticed a young-ish kid behind the partition where the cash register was.  She glanced at a sign and smirked. 

It warned, “Due to the rising cost of ammunition, there will be no warning shots.”

Carey forced her attention from the sign.

“May I use your restroom?”

The kid cashier rubbed the dark stubble on his chin, eyeing Carey.  He then slowly reached behind him and took a purple bear down from a hook and handed it through a slot.

“Give it back when you’re done,” The kid mumbled.  “That’s the only key.”

Carey smiled, “Sure.”

  She took the bear, seeing that the key was tied to its neck.  

“Thanks.”

She looked around the store, then back to the kid.

“It’s in the back, hallway to the left.  I think.”

She thanked him again and began walking to the back of the store.  Just then, a bell tinkled, signaling the arrival of a new patron.  Carey moved faster.

When she reached the back wall of the convenience store, she faced three doors.  

I thought he said hallway.  Carey frowned.

She went to the door to her left and tried the latch.  Locked.   

She tried the key.  It didn’t fit.

She turned and looked toward the register.   The cashier was busy.

She turned back to the doors.  She tried the middle door.

It was unlocked.  She looked into a dimly-lit hallway that led to an exit at the end, with several entrances on either side.

It’s a maze, Carey thought.

She went to the door on the right and tried it.  Locked.

That narrows it down.  Carey returned to the middle door and stepped into the hallway.

She ventured down the hall.  None of the doors displayed a Women’s or Men’s sign.  She was beginning to lose patience when she heard a voice.

“Bring that key back when you’re done.”

She looked around and, seeing no one, went to the nearest door and tried the key. When it fit the lock, she didn’t hesitate.

The washroom was dingy but tidy, certainly not recently cleaned but not horrible.  She placed her duffle bag on the floor near the door, made use of the facilities as neatly as possible, and then washed her hands.

The mirror was cracked and worn.  When she saw herself, she was brought back to the reality of her situation.  Should she have cooled down before storming off the way she did?  She had no plan.  Her car was being serviced and wouldn’t be ready to be picked up until tomorrow.  The only thing she knew for certain was she couldn’t go back.  

Better get the key back to the clerk, Carey thought, then work out what to do next.  Her mind hadn’t gotten around to considering where to spend the night, but now it was getting late.  She gathered her bag, opened the door and stepped out into the . . .

Where was the hallway?  This was a room, larger than the store had been.   She looked back into the washroom to make sure this was where she’d entered.  She turned toward the room again and noted there was fluorescent lighting in the ceiling.  It emitted a glow that left the corners and edges of the room dark.  She saw no windows and no other doors.

What is this place?

She began walking quickly alongside the walls searching for anything that might help her get her bearings.  She was most of the way around when she saw something that made her heart stop. She let out a yelp.

In the corner was a woman sitting cross-legged on a blanket.  Her gray hair needed washing, her skin was creased, and her clothing looked worn and as though it belonged to a much younger person.  She was smiling, which gave Carey a deep sort of dread in the pit of her stomach.

“You remind me of someone,” The woman cackled at Carey.

Carey was frozen.

“Don’t you want to know who?”  The woman tried looking coy, which only terrified Carey more.

“Well,” the woman continued, “I was pretty scared, too, come to think of it.  Take your time, my dear.  I’m not going anywhere!”  She closed her eyes and smiled, apparently to herself.

Carey still didn’t move.

The woman considered Carey with concern, then spoke again.

“Try breathing.  Relax. Take a deep, cleansing breath.”

Carey thought the word “cleansing” didn’t match the surroundings.  The place wasn’t dirty exactly, but it seemed to have an atmosphere of its own.  Carey had nothing in her experience to draw on that might help her gauge the situation.  She had, in a word, nothing.

She cleared her throat.  “Where is this?”  She croaked.   

“Your guess is as good as mine, deary,” the woman shook her head, chuckling.   “And don’t ask me how long I’ve been here.  I haven’t got a clue.”

Carey felt herself slowly beginning to thaw and come back into herself. 

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, few things do, if you think about it.  I used to.”

Carey raised an eyebrow.  

“Used to?”

“I used to think about it.  Making sense.  You should leave that at the door. You're better off.”

“Which door?”  Carey waved an arm.   “You mean . . .”

The washroom door was gone.

“Wait . . .”  Carey ran to where the door, she thought, had been.  No seams, no hint that a door had ever been there.

Carey slumped into a heap.  She began to wail and steadily, then meekly, pound the floor.   

“I don’t understand,” she screamed.  Then she screamed again.  And again.  She laid her head down on her duffle bag, covering her eyes and wept.

She may have slept, she wasn’t sure.  She slowly lifted and turned her head. Through her hair, wet with rain, tears and saliva, she saw the woman in the corner.  Their eyes met and now Carey was sure she was real after all, though she was ambivalent whether to feel better or worse because of it.

“Feeling better?”  The woman asked.  “You really are bringing me back to when I first got here.  It’s not nearly so terrible as you seem to think.”

“But,” Carey slowly got to her feet, “I don’t know anything . . . at all.  I’m not even sure what to ask.”

“Been there, too.” The woman shook her head, grinning.  “If you’re feeling brave, come a little closer so we can have a real chat.  I haven’t had someone else real to talk to in . . .” she screwed her face into a querulous expression, then burst out laughing.

“Who knows how long!”

Carey felt just a little less unnerved by the display.

“O-o-okay,” she acquiesced.  She slid the duffle bag closer to the woman’s corner and sat down on it.  She suddenly brightened.

“Wait, I know what time it is!”

She got up excitedly and unzipped the bag.  She retrieved her phone from a side pocket and . . .

“No service?”  She looked at the woman incredulously.

The woman shrugged.  “I wouldn’t know.  They didn’t have those things when I got here.”

Carey stared into nothing for who-knows-how-long.  At some point in that time, she curled into a fetal position.

                  *.    *.    *

“Say, aren’t you ever gonna wake up?  You should be hungry by now.”

Carey slowly stirred, carefully opened her eyes.  

“I’m not hungry,” she grumbled.

“Suit yourself,” the woman answered.  “There’s plenty, if you change your mind.”

Carey opened her eyes and sat up.  The woman was kneeling over nothing, stirring nothing, smiling and humming at absolutely nothing.

Carey slowly got to her feet and picked up her duffle bag.

“Where you going?”  The woman looked up, pretending to hold a spoon near her mouth with one hand and wiping her chin with the other. 

“I thought I might rather camp over here,” Carey gestured.

“Say, honey, before you go too far,” the woman asked, “what’s your name, if you don’t mind telling me?”

“Carey,” utterly exhausted by now, she couldn’t think of anything else to say.  “My name is Carey.”

“Well, now, how’d ya do, Carey?  My name is Carrie, too!”

Carey shook her head.   “No.  Enough.  No more.”

She dragged her duffle bag to the opposite corner, curled into a ball and tried to disappear.

*.    *.    *

Every time Carey opened her eyes, there was Carrie.   She routinely pretended to be asleep.  One time when she opened her eyes, she saw Carrie open a door and go in.  Carey didn’t hear water running but did hear a flush.  She got up and, when Carrie emerged, she bombarded her with questions.

“What’s that?  How did you do that?  Can I do that, too?”

Carrie took her arm.

“Come with me.  I’ll tell you all I know, which is nothing really, but I can tell you what works.  Don’t ask me how!”

Carrie smiled to herself.  For the first time in a long time, Carey smiled, too.  She suddenly remembered something.

“The key!  The purple teddy bear!”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Carrie reassured her.  “They’ve got plenty of them.  They just don’t tell the employees that!”

It was then that Carey decided not to try to make sense of it.  There was no point.

                           *.    *.    *

    Time passed, but who knows what that really means anyway. Carey learned from Carrie how to create a world where she truly was dependent on nothing and no one.  She produced what she needed when she needed it.   She ruled her mind rather than the other way around.  She knew how to be happy, and she was.  She had exactly what Carey wanted.  

    Carey adapted.  She’d begun her “time” with Carrie with some sugarless gum and a protein bar.  She watched and learned how to do.  She learned what she needed to survive and how to get what she wanted.  She would have been amazed to think how happy a person can be with so very little, if she had a mind to think that way.  As it was, she felt rich.  Everything was accessible, at her fingertips, more than she’d ever imagined.  

She performed miracle upon miracle, until they were natural, everyday events.  She was her home, one she herself had created, and she was content.

Then the situation changed.

*.    *.    *

     The bell tinkled.  A young girl, soaked from the rain and carrying a large backpack, entered the convenience store.  Her makeup was smudged and her eyes were red.

“Excuse me.  Do you have a ladies room?”

         “Do you have an ID?”  The bald clerk, countered.

         The girl pulled out a card and handed it over. The cashier raised an eyebrow.

         “Kerry, huh?  I’ll hold this and return it when you return the key.”  

         "Sure, whatever." The girl was losing patience.

         “Bring it back when you’re done.  It’s the only key.”

         The young girl frowned.

         “What?  Why don’t you make a copy, man?”

*.    *.    *

           Carey was horseback riding in the Colorado Hills when she felt that her horse, Ginger, wanted to head back to the stable.  Carey smiled, gave her a pat, and agreed to return home.  Then they were back.

         Carey sank into the plush sofa in the corner with a chilled glass of burgundy.  She switched on the ambient lighting and admired the tiger lilies that sprang eloquently from the jade vase she’d brought back from Japan.

         It took a moment or two, or whatever, to realize something felt slightly off. Rather than jumping to conclusions, Carey relaxed and then sensed that her friend and mentor Carrie was not present.  She couldn’t remember a time that she’d looked for and not found Carrie.  

         Well, she knew inherently there had to be a reason. All would eventually be explained, or not.  Time would tell, or not.

          Across from her, a door slowly opened.  

         “What the fuck!”

                                                      -0-