It was the third time I passed the same ‘Welcome to Chikitaw’ sign that I knew something was wrong. The road was winding and claustrophobic with trees encroaching on the sides of the road or ditches that you just knew your car wouldn’t get out of. Unfortunately, it was also the kind of back country road that was the only way to get to where you were going.
Work wanted me to get to this no-name township and do soil readings on a gas station. Simple stuff. But I needed to take this road and driving it ate half of my day. A 4 hour drive to only go 45 miles. It wasn’t even very late, somewhere around 9:00 - 9:30. I really needed to pee and obviously I was doing something wrong, so I pulled over. Thankfully, there was a nice treeline I could hide and piss in. Don’t judge me, but I had to go.
The first time I saw that car was when I was walking back. There was a beat-up station wagon, sea green, 30 years old, and an exhaust that put bikers in their place. It was one of those vehicles held together by dirt and spite that if you gave it a carwash it may stop working.
The cabin overhead light was on, so you could see the driver clearly. She was yelling into her phone and barely paying attention to the road, swerving like it was her first time driving or she was drinking..
I hate it when people drive like that. But I shook my head clear, checked my phone GPS, and started driving again.
I passed that damn sign again.
I was swearing up and down at my phone and telling myself I never even made a turn. But this pass, I saw that station wagon on the side of the road. Hazard lights were blinking and the driver looked really upset.
Don’t judge me, but I didn’t stop. Listen, I’m a guy, she is a lady, and she had a phone on her. Some cop or sheriff would come and get her. Heck, as I drove by she was still yelling at her phone.
But seeing her made me forget I just drove by the sign, well up until I passed it a fifth time. I know I screamed ‘fuck’ and at least one blasphemy. I slowed down at that point, looking for a side road or driveway to turn off to. Then I started pulling up by that damned station wagon again.
The woman was out of the car now, jumping, waving her arms, and hollering at me. So I pulled over behind her car and rolled my window down.
“Please help me!” She was crying, and not like movie tears, but the kind of crying that makes snot run down your nose. The kind of crying that makes you stop and heave air. I told her something along the lines of “get in.” She plopped down in the seat next to me and took a good 10 minutes to pull herself together enough to talk to me.
“I have been driving past that sign all night. I can’t find a way off this road.” My skin prickled up and tingled.
I felt bad, but I had to tell her the truth as I saw it. “Well, I don’t want to alarm ya’, but I’ve driven by that damned thing 5 times now. Have you called the law? I got my phone here, fully charged. We can wait for them to show up.”
“I have been on the phone with them over and over again. Every time I pass the sign, it hangs up. When I call back, they act like they’ve never talked to me before.”
I called the law anyway, I mean, sometimes they take men a bit more seriously. The dispatcher said that I was breaking up and that I should try and find a better signal. ‘Fair enough’ I thought, so I drove a little bit to see if we could hear each other better and then bam, call drops.
And we passed that goddamned sign again.
The woman broke down crying again and I couldn’t blame her. I am sure I started yelling since she got much more upset. We drove some more, and we never did see her car again. After passing the sign another time, I decided to stop next to the damnable thing.
I didn’t know what I was planning on doing. I just knew I was angry and she was following behind me sobbing. The stress was too much. Once near the sign, I used the light on my phone to show the whole thing. It read: ‘Welcome to Chikitaw, Population 11 / 12’ .
“That is really odd.” I looked back at her.
“What does that mean?” She was doing her best to hold it together and failing pretty badly. Her eyes darted everywhere, like something was going to snatch her away.
“Don’t know. Let’s look around it. Sometimes the Sheriff Deputies hide magazines and booze near these signs. Maybe we can find something that will help.”
She nodded at me and we walked around the simple wooden sign. We didn’t find any skin rags or hooch. Not even a cigarette butt. Yet we did find a pair of handcuffs, with one end firmly attached to the sign and the other open. No key or anything. Just the cuffs.
“Why would these be here?”
Not sure if I responded, but I got a closer look at the cuffs. They were attached with a metal hasp bolted to the sign itself, and when I shined my light down the line, I saw eleven empty places for more cop bracelets.
“I think the town is looking for a new resident.” I looked at the lady, she was badly shaken and standing there waiting for me to do something.
Don’t judge me, but I sure as hell did something. I pushed her to the sign and got those cuffs on her. She put up a fight, put a scar on my arm, but I was bigger and faster. I ran back to my car with her screaming obscenities at me.
I drove fast, like I was trying to outrun the devil himself. Maybe I was. But I passed the sign again, but it felt different. I heard her screaming, but it sounded more like a wounded animal. I didn’t look in the mirror to see her behind that sign.
I drove past the damned sign one last time, it was easier to read from the car this time.
‘Welcome to Chikitaw, Population 12’
I didn’t hear screaming any more. In a half hour I found myself near a truckstop at 4:31AM. When I pulled in, I just sat and stared into the distance. I didn’t know whether I dreamt it or was losing my mind or what. But in the passenger seat, a phone started ringing. The woman left her phone in my car. The screen said “Mom”.
Don’t judge me, but I smashed that phone and put it in the trash. I spent my time in hell and I wasn’t going to no prison. I heard they found a busted station wagon a couple weeks later off the side of the road, but no sign of the driver. I found a new job close to home and I don’t ever drive any more back roads.