As The Beast slogged through the streets of Old Wachusett, Kansas sang about sailing toward the Point of Know Return, followed by Styx who welcomed everyone to the Grand Illusion, then Foghat extolled the virtues of being a Fool for the City. Now Lynyrd Skynyrd lamented about being a Free Bird and how that free bird cannot change, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, and this bird you’ll never change.
Josh felt like anything but a free bird right now. He couldn’t say that he had been looking forward to driving Abby to Albany, but he at least thought it might be a little bit of fun, you know, being with the girl he’d gone out with and all. Yeah, it wasn’t lost on him that he was the one who had broken it off with Abby—dumped her, to use her way of putting it—but he’d had his legitimate reasons, and he thought that maybe today they could use the ride to patch things up. Not that he thought they would start going out again—he certainly had no illusions of that happening, although he couldn’t say that that thought had never crossed his mind—only that maybe they could at least be friends like they once had been.
Josh coaxed The Beast into a left turn and headed west toward Route 2. The rear wheels skidded. He steered into the skid, steadied The Beast, and breathed a little easier. For now. The snow was falling much heavier than it had been even a few minutes ago and it certainly did not look like it was going to ease up any time soon. It was also starting to drift, which made the driving even worse. There was no way they could make it to Albany today. Not in this mess. Abby wasn’t going to like that one bit.
Hell, he’d agreed to drive her—although that was before he knew it was going to snow like there was no tomorrow—the least she could do was carry on a conversation. But no. He’d tried small talk. He’d bought her breakfast. He’d even apologized—again! All he got from her were sideways glances. Yeah, like he couldn’t see those. Other than that, she just sat there staring out the windshield, occasionally turning to look out her window. Although, for a brief moment a few minutes ago, it seemed like she was about to burst into tears. She’d glanced at him, pretended to cough, and turned away to look out her window. Her shoulders had started shuddering up and down, the way shoulders do when girls cry, and he thought for sure it was all going to come out, that all the emotions of the past few months would come spewing out of her like one of those junior high science experiments where vinegar and baking soda come frothing out of the mouth of a papier-mâché volcano.
But that hadn’t happened. Abby had composed herself, turned so she was facing the windshield, and that’s the way she was now: sitting ramrod straight, staring straight ahead.
A bird flew across the road twenty yards ahead of them, a bird big enough to make Josh’s hands flinch on the wheel. Not enough to steer The Beast into a skid, but enough to set Josh’s heart racing. It had come from the left and dove toward the road, then flew straight up until it disappeared into the swirling snow. Josh craned his neck to search for it. The rear wheels slipped again, causing Josh to focus back on the road as he regained control of The Beast. What the hell was that thing? An eagle? Or owl? Whatever it was, it was huge.
“We’re not going to make it.” Josh turned to Abby at the sound of her voice, all thoughts of the bird flying out of his mind. Abby hadn’t moved. She had spoken, but hadn’t moved, and for a moment Josh entertained the thought that Abby hadn’t spoken at all and he was now hearing her voice in his head in addition to his brother’s. “Are we?” He saw her lips move this time, which caused a slight sigh of relief to escape Josh’s mouth.
“No, we’re not.” Josh winced as Abby’s shoulders slumped and her body sank into the seat. “I’m sorry, Abby. It’s bad out here and I can’t risk smashing up The Beast. My father would kill me.”
Abby shook her head and rolled her eyes. “The Beast. Is this car all you ever think about? My god, Josh.”
Don’t take the bait, Josh thought. Let it go. She’s upset about lots of stuff. Her father, her mother, you. You gotta let her have that one.
Josh slowed The Beast and tightened his grip on the wheel. “I’m out here in this stuff with you, aren’t I?”
Abby looked at him and shook her head again, saying nothing.
“What?”
“It’s always about you. You don’t want to risk damaging your precious car. You’re giving me a ride. You dump me because you’re tired of me. It’s all about you.”
“Is that why you’re upset? Me breaking it off with you?”
“No, Josh. I’m not upset about that at all.”
“Abby, that was months ago. I apologized. What more do you want?”
Abby sat, hands in her lap, hood scrunched up around her neck hiding her cheek, hiding any reaction from Josh.
“You think it was easy for me?”
Abby turned toward him.
“You think I wanted to break up with you?” He glanced at her, not wanting to take his eyes off the road for more than a second, but also wanting to make eye contact with her. “You make it sound like I went out with you, played with you for a while like a toy, and tossed you aside when I got bored with you.”
“Uh, yeah.” Abby crossed her arms and nodded her head. “That about sums it up.”
Josh shook his head. “Unbelievable.” He turned right onto Cold Spring Road, carefully considering what he was about to say. He wanted to tell her the truth. But, here’s the thing idiot—she’s not going to believe you. Why should she? Voices. That’s the truth, and that she definitely will not believe. Cut your losses and let it go!
“Abby, I’m going to tell you something. It’s going to sound weird, believe me I know, but it’s also going to be the truth.” He looked at her. She looked at him, one eyebrow raised as if to say, I’m listening. I’m skeptical, but I’m listening.
Josh turned back to the road and cleared his throat. He squeezed the steering wheel, flexed his fingers, then squeezed the wheel again. The snow coming at him looked as though the flakes might penetrate the windshield and pierce his heart, hundreds of miniscule needles inflicting both physical and emotional pain on a level that, until now, Josh had not experienced. He kept The Beast as close to the trees on the right so he didn’t slide into the other lane.
“About a week before Thanksgiving I…I….”
Abby, her eyes on Josh, waited for him to work the words out of his mouth.
“About a week before Thanksgiving I started hearing voices. Wait. That’s not right. I started hearing a voice, but I heard the same voice on different occasions. That’s what I mean by hearing voices.” He cast a nervous glance her way. Now both eyebrows were raised. “I know, I know. Believe me, I know how it sounds. Imagine how it sounds to me. The whole thing is weird. This voice, it…I can’t even say it. You’re not going to believe me.”
“Try me.”
So he did. “The voice was Julian.” He looked at her. She looked away. “My bro—.”
“I know who Julian is. I may be naïve, Josh, but I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were stupid.”
“Didn’t you?”
“See?” Josh shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Come on, Josh. Julian’s voice? Really? You can do better than that.” Abby shook her head. “You know, I actually thought for a moment that you were going to tell me the truth. Maybe tell me the name of the girl you got interested in. Or what it was about me that turned you off. Or—”
“Stop!” Josh glared at her. He turned back to the road and steered The Beast into a left turn, carefully accelerating up the incline. When he got to the top of the hill he would turn it around and head back to Abby’s place. “I am telling you the truth. It started one night when I was listening to music with my headphones on. One minute I’m listening to Rush’s 2112 album, the next I’m hearing Julian’s voice in my head. In my head! Do you know how freaky…how scary that is? Do you?”
Abby paused before speaking. “What did he say?”
“He told me to bring one of his books with me the next time I visited him.”
“Which one?”
Josh hesitated. He hadn’t thought Abby would ask that question. It was an innocent enough question, and the answer would certainly not be lost on her. “Crime and Punishment. Said he wanted to have one of the nurses read it to him.”
Another pause. “That, Joshua Schofield, is a load of crap.”
That word, ‘Joshua,’ more than the substitute swear word, told Josh everything he needed to know about his chances of convincing Abby of the truth.
The Beast reached the top of the hill. Josh steered it to the side and angled it to make the turnaround in one sweep, but he had to be careful he didn’t—oh, shit! The front end of The Beast kept going forward instead of turning in the direction of the front wheels. Josh hit the brakes—which he knew was the wrong thing to do, but that didn’t stop his reflexes from taking over—taking all control out of his hands. The right front wheel slid off the shoulder of the road. The front end crunched over a slight snowbank that bordered a shallow runoff gulley. The left wheel followed the right over the banking. The Beast lurched forward, slid a few more feet, then stopped, coming to rest at an angle pitched forward, both front wheels spinning in air, the belly of The Beast resting on snow and gravel.
“Shit.” Josh looked to Abby. “You all right?”
Abby nodded, still gripping the door handle and bracing herself against the dashboard. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just fine.”
Josh slammed the shifter into reverse and gave The Beast some gas. The rear wheels spun. The Beast didn’t budge an inch. He slammed the shifter into park, rested his head against the headrest, and closed his eyes. “Shit,” he said, accenting the word by head-butting the head rest, and doing it three more times with the accompanying, “Shit, shit, shit!”
Abby waited a few moments before saying, “What do we do now?” Her tone was softer than it had been the whole ride.
“Nothing, Abby. There’s nothing we can do.”
“Josh,” an even softer tone, “I’m sorry. I just—”
“I get it, Abby.” Josh opened his eyes and lifted his head off the headrest. He turned to Abby. “Believe me, I get it.” The words sounded weird—ironic—coming from his mouth in light of the conversation they’d just had. Believe me. That was the whole problem in his life right now. No one believed him. Not his parents, not the doctors, and now not Abby.
Josh opened his door.
“What are you doing?”
“Something. I don’t know what, but I’m doing something to get us out of this mess.” Which mess, Josh? There’s more than one, you know. And you’re to blame for all of it. Maybe he could flag someone down, although, now that he thought about it, there hadn’t been too many cars he’d seen since they’d turned onto Cold Spring Road. Most people had probably used their common sense and headed home as soon as the snowfall had started in earnest. Unlike Josh, who apparently had no common sense of which to speak.
Perhaps his father was right after all.
Josh got out of the car and started to close the door when—
WHUMP!
—he heard the sound—
WHUMP! WHUMP!
—but never saw the wings propel it straight toward him—
WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP!
—nor the talons extended out from the brown and black feathers that ripped through his jean jacket, sliced through his skin, clamped onto both shoulder blades, and hoisted him off the ground. He did, however, feel the pain. Boy, did he ever feel the pain.
The great bird lifted Josh into the blizzard. He looked down at The Beast. As he started to black out from the pain, he saw the biggest, blackest dog he’d ever seen. It approached the driver’s door of The Beast and looked inside. He heard a high-pitched scream. Then, just as he did black out, he could’ve sworn he saw two bright, fire-blue eyes peering up at him, penetrating through the fading whiteness. He could sense, in an extra-sensory-perception kind of way, a grin hidden behind those glowing eyes.