I had been driving for hours. Only trees and the road accented with the occasional rock outcropping. I didn’t mind road trips, like most I find them relaxing. More so if the trip is through some of remote part of the country. The sense of being somewhere that hadn’t been overcome but the grating madness of society.
It was raining heavily and was nearly noon. I knew I had to stop somewhere for gas eventually. I had been keeping an eye out for a road sign but there hadn’t been one. The winding road was lulling me. I needed to stay focused.
I tried scanning the radio. No luck. Only weak signals playing 70s rock and ‘adult contemporary’ (whatever that meant). I switched to AM. At first there was nothing but talk shows. One covering the mundane topics of a small town. “Who was running for town council” “The farmers market” “The fifth annual dog walker parade” I changed channels. “Hi, thanks for calling Confessions with Clarice, you’re on the air”. I turned it again immediately.
Then I heard it, something had caught my ear. A static fluttering with the occasional high pitched blip. I listened closely, perplexed. Was it a signal of some sort? It lasted only about twenty seconds. Then I heard the sound of a record being set and the unmistakable grit of vinyl. The quality was poor, it must have been an antique recording. Simply the wavering twang of an acoustic guitar and the hiss of white noise. The vocals started.
“Oh come around old Bessie, but you don’t leave poor old me, oh come around old Bessie, why don’t you leave me be?”.
The music stopped suddenly and the static fluttering started again. It was on a loop. The voice was strained and melancholic. “What the…” I said aloud. Why would somebody put such a strange song on a loop? Something about it was just unsettling. Admittedly, I was being unreasonable. It was only an old time song. But what was it? A code? Did the locals know? I would have to ask when I got into town.
I switched it off. ‘Fine. I don’t need to listen to anything’. While still unnerved about the strange song, a gas station appear as I rounded the corner. I slowed and turned off the roadway. The place was nestled into the thick of the surrounding woods. There hadn’t been a sign. The place looked in order for the most part. I parked in the stall, filled up, and made my way to the front.
The door creaked as it opened.
“Hello” I called.”Hello?” I said again slightly annoyed. No answer.
“Nobody here? Really? What is this a horror film?” I thought. The vibe was right for one at least.
Maybe the road was getting to me and I was starting to loose it a little. The owner was probably in the restroom or something. I needed gas and food. I’d have to leave money on the counter if they weren’t around. I grabbed a canned coffee and some chips. There was the restroom, right next to the frozen goods.
“Hello?” I said as I rapped on the door. I opened it slowly. Lights off. Nothing.
“Okay, suits me I guess…”
The room was in disrepair but I had seen worse. The faucet was leaking and there was what looked like mould in the corner on the floor (which was sticky for some reason). I looked at myself in the mirror. It was cracked around the edges. I could see the tiredness in my face, I splashed myself with warm water and finished up.
Still nobody.
As I approached the counter, there was an odd sound. Like air escaping balloon. A shrill, high pitched squeal. It was coming from the other side of the counter. It continued but more faintly. I slowly made my way around the counter. Newspapers were in piles on the floor.
October 1998 “Local man dies in rock climbing accident, authorities say no foul play suspected”
“Is Y2K for real? Are you Prepared? Cyber experts weigh in”’
‘These… are from years ago.’ I thought. Y2K? Why keep papers from half a decade ago on the floor?’
“Hello?! Is everything alright? I heard a noise” I called stepping around the papers. I looked down the hall that had been obstructed from view on the customer side of the counter. It was slightly dark but not long. I could see it lead to what I assumed to be an office and an exit. The red glow of the sign provided some source of light.
I heard the shrill noise again only now, even fainter. It was coming from under the counter. From behind the trash bin. I carefully moved it and jumped in surprise. I’m a grown man but I couldn’t help but yell.
‘What the f-!’.
It was the largest rat I had ever seen. The metal bar of the trap, directly across it’s neck. It must have been broken. The sound had stopped. Blood dripped from it’s mouth and eyes.I heard the bell of the front door and it swing open.
‘Who the hell are you and what are you doing behind my counter!’ the burly man said sternly, hand cautiously on the piece on his waist.
“No, stop! It’s not what it looks like. I just… I just heard a sound. The rat, it’s the rat” I mustered.
“No one was here. Look” I said shaking slightly from the shock. “I put the money on the counter, I’m not a thief.”
“The rat trap. See.” I said pointing.
He looked wearily at the counter and then again at me, reassessing the situation. I could see him relax as he realized what had happened. ‘Oh… the rat trap. Yeah. Did it get him? Damn thing’s been creeping around for weeks.’
He walked over. ‘Wow… that is a big one’. he said as he dropped it by it’s tail into the bin.
Thud.
I stepped away from behind the counter. “Sorry, I called out. I wasn’t sure and then I heard a sound.”
“Yeah it’s fine, I get it. Sorry I had to run out to the back, I didn’t expect anyone. I heard you yell”
“Yeah… I don’t like rats.” I said mildly embarrassed.
I composed myself and remembered. “That should cover the gas and the snacks?’ I said gesturing to the bill.
Yeah, that should do it. Do you need change?’ He asked.
‘No that’s fine’ I said, and paused.’Hey can I ask you? What’s the deal… with that Bessie song on the radio?” I felt stupid asking about something rooted in my foolish uneasiness.
“Bessie song?” He said cocking an eyebrow.
“You don’t know it? It just kept playing the same thing over and over again” I tried my best to hum the melody with the occasional word.
“Hmm hmm Bessie, poor Bessie, hmm hmm don’t come around no more”.
He looked at me confused. “It was on AM radio, 91 something?”
“Wait… did you say Bessie?” he said a tinge of concern in his voice? “I scan the radio all day long, and I ain’t never heard no song about Bessie. What do you mean Bessie!?” It sounded like he was getting slightly angry.”
“You’re pushing it” he really was getting mad.
“91 what?” he said as he switched on the radio flippantly and started tuning.
“Uh… I… I don’t know, I just heard it on the way here, I didn’t mean anything…”
“91 what?!” he barked, the levity and relief from moments ago was gone.
“I think it was 91.3? I don’t know” He scrolled to 91.3.
‘Kshhhh’ it hissed…. Nothing. Had it stopped?
The hairs on my neck stood up. What was going on? This entire situation was off.
“I listen to the radio every day, and I ain’t never heard nothing like that. You know what? You’re starting to seem like a real weird dude. First the counter thing, but now, but now this? What is this, your idea of a joke!? You some kind of troll that crawled out from under a bridge to crack sick jokes?” his voice was nearing a shout.
“I… I have no idea what you are talking about” I said nearly speechless.
“Really? Bessie?” he said aghast. “After what happened? You’re gonna come in here and joke about shit like that?!” he blew air and rubbed his forehead.
“P… pardon” I said.
“Oh you’re gonna play dumb?” he said incredulously. “You weren’t talking about Bessie Jones? They found nothing of her but her pack and clothes in the middle of that meadow in the woods!”
He bent over and started rummaging though the pile of papers on the floor. “THAT, Bessie Jones?!” He yelled as he slammed the newspaper onto the counter.
March 1993 ‘Articles belonging to missing woman found in forest meadow, foul play suspected. Lack of evidence hinders investigation’
“I.. I.. I had no idea… it was”
“Bull. Shit. You know what, get the f- out! Take the money, I don’t want anything from a creep like you.”
I stood there stunned.
“G… Go.” he said simmering with anger and put his hand back on the firearm on his waist.
“I’m sorry” I said quickly and turned and hurried out of the store, nearly knocking over the rack of postcards on my way out.
I heard him lock the door behind me. I fiddled with my keys and jumped in. I switched the radio on immediately.
91.3… still, nothing.
It’s really gone? It didn’t make any sense… there’s no way it was a one time broadcast that I just happened to catch. It must have been another station. I pulled out of the stall and back on the road, half distracted, turning the dial recklessly.
By the time I pulled into town I had searched every band twice over. 91, 92, 93, 101, 102, 103… It wasn’t there. ‘It must have been AM’ I had thought, confused.
I knew it wasn’t, and when I checked it confirmed it.
All of this was too strange; the song disappearing, the reaction from the man at the gas station, the missing woman and how the song seemed to be about her. I was starting to feel crazy. I pulled into the address of the owner of cabin I was renting for the week. I had to pick up the keys and the owner, Dana told me there a few things she wanted to let me know before I got settled.
It was a nice home, but modest. I knocked louder than I should have still ruminating over what had happened at the gas station.
“Oh hello” a jubilant woman said with a smile as she open the door. “You must be the guest?”
“Yes. That’s me!” I said trying to keep up with her peppiness. She must have been about 50 or so. Curly greying hair and a a dress inspired by some tribal textiles; greens and reds and browns and yellows with varying lines and rectangular patterns. It was lovely but not what I’d have expected from a town like this.
“Here are the keys… and you have the address?”
“Yes, third road down off of Burbank Rd. right?”
“Yes, you’re going to head down the old logging road and… well you’ll see the sign. Just make sure you lock up before you leave please. Oh, if you use the washer leave the lid open when you are done. You’re really going to love it there”
‘Alright…’ I said as I was pulled out of the pleasantries of what should have been a nice discussion, the song from the radio making it’s way back to the forefront of my mind.
‘Hey, sorry. There’s something I have to ask.’ I took pause, wondering if this would go as well as it did at the gas station.
“Yes?’ she said confused, sensing my apprehension.
‘Well. When I was driving up here, I heard a song. On the radio. It seemed, I don’t know… out of place, and when I asked the clerk at the station… he, he told me to leave.”
“A song on the radio? I-‘ she seemed confused.
‘They just kept singing about ‘Bessie’
“Eh… oh.’ the woman said looking somewhat stunned.’B-Bessie…’ she said faintly.
‘It’s been a long time since I heard that name.’ she looked out into the distance.
‘She was a nice girl…’ her thoughts drifting, and then she seemed to snap back to reality.
‘Yes. Yes, I knew Bessie. She was friends with Lane, the owner of the gas station. I can see why he would have been upset. But a song you say? That is strange, but surely… that was just an unfortunate coincidence.” She pause and took a quick poised breath.”I’m sorry, I don’t know. I should go now.” she turned promptly and began to close the door. She stopped, “I’m sorry I don’t mean to be rude. I truly do hope you enjoy the cabin. If you have any issues do let us know.”
I barely could get out a ‘thanks’ before the door was shut.
This was totally irrational. She was right, it was just a song, a coincidence. A stroke of chance I had brought it up to the clerk. The clerk… who happened to be friends with a woman with the same name who disappeared years ago. Why did Dana seem so unnerved? This didn’t feel like nothing, logically it was nothing. But still, it felt strange. It must be the road, or the fact I was visiting somewhere new. Some type of small scale culture shock? I had to let it go, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was here to enjoy some time away from the city. How typical of me to let something so ridiculous get my thoughts going like this. I set out for the cabin.
The logging road was only twenty minutes from Dana’s. I couldn’t wait to get settled in and start to prepare diner: lamb stew. It took a while to cook so it would be ready by tonight. After missing the turn the first time and driving for ten minutes in the wrong direction, I found my way to Burbank and arrived at the cottage. There were a few other properties around but they were all separated by acres of forest. Essentially, I was alone.
The cabin had cedar plank siding and red aluminum roofing. It looked somewhat modern compared to a log cabin with it’s large windows and painted flashing but it was still quaint. The front door opened without issue. A singing bowl and golden trinkets of elephants and monkeys sat on a shelf in the entrance. To the left of the entrance was the living room, all wood, with a large stone fireplace and leather seating. To the right was the kitchen, bright white tiles and led lighting, not exactly rustic… but it must have been expensive. I set down the groceries and turned on the radio in the corner of the kitchen. I wasn’t going to think about that song, adult contemporary it was then. Fortunately there was a signal.
I lit the gas burner and coated the dutch oven with olive oil. I seared the lamb while I chopped the aromatics and then added them to the pan. To be honest, the music wasn’t bad, cheesy sure, but not bad. I poured myself a glass of wine. I didn’t usually drink but it seemed appropriate. The kitchen had a lovely aroma, and I had a slight buzz from the wine. The stress from early had completely evaporated.
At least, that was until it happened again…
It was only an hour or so after I settled in. The radio. I heard it again, that unmistakable flicker. It cut off the of the dreamy warmth of the 80s piano and replaced it with what now seemed like nails on a chalkboard. I cringed. My entire body seized for a moment. ‘What. The. Fuck’ I said aloud…I slowly walked over to the radio still chattering static clicks and pops. I turned the dial… nothing. Every channel was dead; it just kept playing the static.
I started to feel sick and the muscles in my abdomen cramp. I never thought of myself a coward, but I couldn’t help the anxious feelings that welled up at times like this. The sound was now seemed less like an interesting novelty and more like a literal offence on my senses. “Oh come around old Bessie…’ I could hear in my minds ear clearly while waiting for the song to start again.I slammed my hand against the radio’s power button, breaking the handle.
‘Great’ I thought, ‘I’ll have to replace the thing’. Knowing that thought really only served as a distraction to what was really happening. And what the hell was it that was happening?
I walked over to the sink and rested my hands on the edge of counter and looked down into the sink processing what had just occurred. The song on the radio had changed. I didn’t turn the dial. It was the same clicks that played before; that stupid unnerving creepy ass song from earlier. Is this how they entertained themselves in small towns? Practical jokes revolving around missing persons cases? I shook my head in disbelief and looked out the window in front of me. It was starting to get dark.
In the treeline, about twenty feet in. I don’t know that most people would have seen it, but I did. That mess of twine and faux foliage… there was someone there.
Someone… in a guile suit?
They were hidden behind a stump and pointing something at the house. My mouth fell open. A local hunter with nothing better to do? Was that a gun? No. It wasn’t. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I wasn’t sure if he realized I had seen him yet. Or really, I wondered had I seen ‘him’ at all? I glanced up again quickly and squinted my eyes. That was a person… I was sure of it. I looked back down. The anxiety in me turned to adrenaline. What was I doing? Was I really afraid of some small town f-wit hiding in the bushes playing pranks? Some kind of radio-wave bullshit?
I’d go face him. It wasn’t a gun, I was sure of it, and at this point I didn’t care if he was insane or what… I was insane too and he would soon find out.I grabbed a baseball bat I had seen leaning against the shelf in the foyer and threw on my jacket. I opened the door and started sprinting to where I had seen the form in the trees. If he hadn’t noticed me, noticing him then I might catch him by surprise. The treeline was only 20 yards away.’Hey! Show yourself you weirdo’ I screamed.
The part of me that wasn’t filled with a primal fight response wondered if I had misjudged. What if he did have a gun after all? What if he was lining up sights right now and I would be dead in a second? I kept running. No shot rang out.I barrelled over the shrubs and logs making my way through the bush. I was expecting at any moment someone to jump out and grab me. Grapple me to the ground, where one of us would end up in the hospital worse. No one did.
I reached the stump where I had seen the suit. Absolutely nothing. Not a trace. I looked around confused. Was I really loosing it? There really was something here, I was sure of it. I bent down and examined the ground. The dirt looked somewhat disturbed but if I was honest, I had no idea. I was second guessing myself now and feeling really foolish. Was it a guile suit? Was there even a person here at all? I shook my head defeated staring at he mud beneath me.
And there it was.
What looked like hay coloured hair. I picked it up not believing what I was seeing. There really was some sort of fibre there, several. I pulled on it. It felt like plastic. Synthetic hair… in the middle of the woods? Where I had thought I had seen someone? I scanned around myself wearily. Back in the house I tried to comprehend what had just happened. I still couldn’t tell if what I had seen was real or a figment of my imagination. But there they were, the fibres I found on the ground. They were real. They were not natural. Someone had been there. He must have seen that I noticed him and left. He was quick, much too quick.
At least that’s what part of me was saying. I tried to stomach the stew as I thought about my situation. I was going crazy. I would leave tomorrow. Apparently getting back to nature wasn’t for me right now. There was no one in the woods. Clearly this ‘fibre’ was some type of moss or something. Who knows?
The clicks? Just static. The song? A coincidence. The fibres? Natural fungus.
I was making a big deal out of nothing because I hadn’t been away from the city in a while, a long while. I would sleep on it and tomorrow morning I would either realize I was being completely irrational or I could pack up and leave. I drifted off too sleep.
My eyes jolted open.
I was wide awake even though I was just asleep. I looked at the clock. It was 1:30. It was so early… why did I wake up? But like my waking was some sort of premonition, the alarm on the clock radio across the room started beeping. It was so loud. Why did they make them so loud… and why was it set to one in the morning? I would mention it to Dana.
But, in reality I knew, I could sense it, something was wrong. Then it started.
The beeping stopped and the radio switched over to static, the same sound as before. I was so done with this. I walked over to the radio and ripped it out of the wall. I went over to the window and turned the latch and pushed… but, but It wouldn’t budge.
I could not conceive of what was happening. I pushed and pushed but the window would not move. The anger I had when I decided I was going to throw the radio out the window had dissolved into fear. I started to feel light-headed, I needed air.
I tried the front door. The same issue. The living room window. Stuck. Kitchen Window. Stuck. I moved frantically around the house trying to find a way out. Every window and door was fixed in place. It was as if there was an immense pressure sealing the entire house shut. My ears started ringing. At first I though it was due to anxiety, but the sound started to grow louder and louder. More and more oppressive. I had to get outside.
I took the bat from earlier and swung it as hard as I could at the window. The bat hit the window and came to standstill. The glass seemed to absorb the impact like rubber. But then, it cracked. Slowly the cracks expanded throughout the window like a spiders web and it shattered. A gust of warm air flooded the house pushing me back. I fell to the floor. It was like the atmosphere had become thick and heavy. I jumped out of the window, the sound only becoming more and more maddening. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before but there was a strange red hue surrounding the entire property. Where was it coming from?
I growled in confusion and fell to my knees. It was getting warmer. In fact it wasn’t warm, it was hot, uncomfortably hot. It was mid November, why was it so hot? It felt like a scorching summer day but it was one in the morning. I was being cooked. I had to cool down. I began to strip down. I had to get out of here.
I started running but the noise made it hard to focus. I felt like I was going to die, this wasn’t a joke anymore. Something was severely wrong. I started sprinting towards the woods. It would be cooler there, anywhere away from the red glow and the heat and that insidious hum.
I ran as fast as I could into the woods. It was working, I felt different, I was cooling off. The sounds were getting fainter. I just kept going and going running faster and faster. Normally when I ran my lungs would burn, but not today.
The hum had stopped completely. I was safe. I stopped to get my bearings. The moon was out fully when I had got outside, why was it so dark? I looked down at my hands. Only what I saw were not hands, merely the remains of red skin clinging to the frame of my bones. Why did I feel nothing?
I screamed for help but the only sound I heard was dead silence. I looked around as my vision began to fade. I was on the ground now. I tried to stand but it’s like my legs didn’t exist. I started to slip away, and it was then that I saw them.
Several figured walked out from the thick of the wood. One who wore a lab coat was taking notes. Men in suits, with black shades spoke to an older man while gesturing to me. There mouths moving but I heard no sound. Beside the rest of them was the man from earlier in the guile suit.
He held in in his hand some device covered dials and knobs, and antennae, like some sort of attenuator. Then as if the nerves in my ears were trying to reconnect after the trauma of what had just happened. I heard their conversation coming through in bits and pieces, like a broken radio…
‘So the new parameters for Project Bessie are a success then?’
‘Poor sap’ one said as they chuckled.
‘Get rid of what’s left of him’ the older man in the suit ordered.
‘He’ll vanish, sir’ the man in guile suit replied.
‘Good. As usual’