--
“Richard?” I held my breath, waiting for words from the other end of the call.
“Yes.”
I looked at the ever-smiling thing to my left, the landscape whizzing by behind his head. The wide, unmoving eyes of my former partner remained locked in my direction. I slouched low in my seat, shrinking away from him, and from this whole fucked up situation. “Where are you?”
“I’m right here, Evelyn.”
“But you’re here, sitting next to me in the car…it’s you, or maybe it used to be you. If you’re on the other end of this call, what is this thing I’ve been driving next to for hours?” My brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening. I needed an explanation.
“Tell me what’s happening, Evelyn.” Richard’s voice sounded far away, but it calmed me a bit to finally hear it again. Some nights at home, just before drifting off to sleep, Richard would start a conversation about a major life topic, like buying a new house or starting a family, and we’d be up for hours just listening to each other talk. I missed hearing his voice while trapped in this car. The smiling thing taunted me with its deafening silence. I closed my eyes and tried my best to tell “Richard” what was going on.
“You’re sitting next to me in the car. It’s you, but maybe it’s not you. How can it be you? You’re on the phone, and the body in the driver’s seat isn’t moving, isn’t talking. You’ve been staring at me with an unearthly smile stretched across your face for the past…I don’t know how long I’ve been in this car. I can’t escape, I can’t get you to look away or talk or do anything. I tried jumping out of the car but ended up right back inside. I remember the moments before hitting the asphalt, hoping I’d live but ready to die just to escape. I know that sounds insane, but it’s the truth. I’m trapped.” My voice started to shake as the thought of being forever stuck with this silent smiling demon crept in. “Help me, please!”
“How is all of this making you feel?”
I sat up in my seat, caught off guard by the ridiculous question. “What the fuck, Richard? How do you think I’m feeling? Maybe this is some sick joke, but it’s all too supernatural. I don’t know! Maybe I’m already dead, maybe I’m being punished for something. This isn’t real, it can’t be. That means this phone call isn’t even real.” I considered hanging up the phone, but even if I was being punished, hearing Richard’s voice was some vague consolation.
“You say you think you’re being punished?”
I pulled my hair in frustration. My mind was no longer my own; this entire conversation with fake “Richard” must have been fabricated by my lost mind. It seemed futile to continue the conversation, but at this stage, what else was I going to do? “Well, I’ve read enough horror stories to recognize this scenario. I’m trapped here in a seemingly unending hellworld.”
“Think, Evelyn. Have you done anything for which you should be punished?”
“Why are you asking me these questions? Why? Help me get out of here,” I pleaded. “You’re my Richard, or maybe you’re not, so whoever you are, please…I haven’t been able to contact anyone since waking up to - to this smiling monster. We’re weaving past cars, we haven’t had to stop for gas…it’s not making sense and I just want out. Please. Please!”
“I am trying to help you, Evelyn. Take a breath and think about the question.”
I stared out through the windshield at the painted highway lines zipping toward us and disappearing out of sight under the car, considering the nameless voice on the other end of the call and its calm inquiries. “Can I think of any reason why I should be punished?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes. Slow inhale through my nose. Slow exhale through pursed lips. Put on the spot, imagine trying to recount all the mistakes you have made in your life. Does the mind retain every misstep? We learn and we adapt based on our mistakes, perhaps guilt also plays a factor. But at some point, we let go. We forget. I started with my most recent memories. Something must have occurred not long ago to send me here. Is there someone I’ve wronged? Broken laws? No. Just a normal life. I try my best to not offend. Some may even call me meek. A pushover. I could use less plastic bags, I could tip a bit more at restaurants. Nothing deserving of this entrapment, this kidnapping, and the broken man with the broken smile beside me.
“Are you still with me, Evelyn?”
“Yes… and I can’t think of anything. I haven’t done anything to deserve this. I’m certain.”
“Alright, that’s good. If you’re sure. Can you tell me about what you see around you, outside the car?”
Once again, I scoured the landscape as we sped down the never-ending highway. Beyond the dark borders where the asphalt met the shoulder, there was nothing but a blur of various shades of green.
“It’s a forest. I haven’t seen any animals or signs or exits off the highway. There are other cars, but I can’t seem to get anyone’s attention.” I sighed. “It’s hopeless, Richard. I still don’t know if you’re real, because I’ve probably gone insane, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get out of this. This is my life now.” A hard truth to accept. Maybe I would keep trying to “escape” after this phone call came to its natural conclusion. Perhaps I would starve to death or die of dehydration, but oddly I hadn’t even felt any hunger pangs after hours and hours inside the car.
“No, Evelyn. This is not your life. We’ve both worked too hard for this. Evelyn, listen to me. Look again – what do you see around you?”
“I don’t know what you want from me! It’s just “you,” me, the highway, the forest, this car, and people in other vehicles barreling down the road around us, people who won’t pay me any goddamn attention!”
I heard “Richard” sigh. It was the kind of sigh he used when he was trying to contain his frustration with me.
“Okay. Fine. Forget the outside. Close your eyes and tell me about your favorite memory.”
“What?”
“Your favorite memory. The scene you hold nearest to your heart. The moment that is never far from your thoughts.”
I couldn’t see how this would help, but I’d already come this far, answering these questions. I closed my eyes yet again. It was hard to fight past the burning image of the frozen being beside me with its gleaming white teeth and chapped lips. My stomach lurched and my face distorted as I hunted for something happy. I could only remember our car.
“I don’t…know…”
“You can do it. I know it’s in there, Evelyn.”
A flash. Bright sun, laughter, potato salad in my hair.
“What are you thinking about?”
I told the voice on the phone about the picnic forming in my mind. The face of Richard, the real Richard, swam into view; I could count the freckles across his nose. My hand was on his knee. He raised his camera and snapped a picture of me mid-laugh. We were in a park by the water, near the bay. There was the lighthouse where my brother got married three years ago. There were the couples holding hands, walking dogs. Children were playing tag in the distance, running barefoot through the warm grass.
“Good. Keep going.”
It felt good to remember. The sun was warm on my face. The sky was free of clouds. A frisbee sat on our blanket, but we never got up to play. And that was fine. We brought too much food with us. We talked about getting a dog. We talked about the wedding we’d have, the house we’d have, the kids we’d have. My mouth turned up into a relaxed smile. When was the last time I smiled?
“You’ve found the place, Evelyn.”
“What place?” I asked dreamily. I wasn’t ready to snap back into the horror of the present.
“Your safe place. It’s exactly where I need you to be.”
“Need me to be?”
“That’s right. Now you’re ready. I want you to kill him.”
Something shifted in my brain; in a way, it was as if my brain and my body were in two different places, no longer occupying the same space.
“What?” I whispered.
“Kill Richard. Quickly, before you both get up to leave. Do you see anything around you that you can use as a weapon?”
I looked around. The picnic blanket we were sitting on, the blades of grass lazily swaying in the warm breeze. Something silver glinted in the sun. It was the cheese knife we brought, plunged deep into a block of cheddar like the Arthurian sword in the stone. Without much consideration, I wrapped my fingers around the handle.
“Kill him,” the voice of “Richard” sang sweetly in my ear.
Yes. It made sense. I had to kill him to escape. My happy moment would be tarnished forever, but it had to be destroyed for me to finally be free.
I looked up from the knife to Richard’s face. His face was no longer filled with love and affection. He was smiling, but oh God, it was that sinister neverending grin again. The horror had invaded the safe space I had built.
My eyes snapped open. We were back in the car, my lost driver gripping the steering wheel with his neck twisted toward me at a perfect ninety-degree angle. I was twisted at the waist, my right hand in my lap. I was holding the knife.
Involuntarily (or so it seemed), I raised my arm. I furrowed my brow. This didn’t make sense. I couldn’t do it.
“He’s not who you think. Kill it,” the voice said. The words coursed swiftly through my veins.
I gripped the knife harder. My knuckles turned white. I gritted my teeth, concentrating my gaze. I knew exactly where to aim my strike.
“I’m sorry.”
I drove the sharp, cold, metal straight through the pearly white wall of teeth. I pulled back. I plunged forward into the empty, green eyes, first the left, then the right. I pulled back. I dug the steel into his chest, targeting his heart, the heart that I once possessed. The menacing smile never faltered as crimson began to overtake its entire face. I placed my hand on its chest, sobbing.
…
“Evelyn. Are you still there?” The voice was clearer now. I looked at my glistening hands, stained red.
I looked up. The room came into focus. I was strapped into a black, faux-leather chair that squeaked uncomfortably when I shifted my weight. A man stood a few feet away. I looked at the familiar name tag on his white jacket. Dr. Richard Amnes.
He was smiling, looking straight into my eyes. He leaned forward slightly, waiting for a response.
“Yes, Richard. I’m here.”
He expelled a small laugh and pulled a recorder from his pocket. Richard spoke calmly into the microphone. “Evelyn has successfully emerged from Trial One.”