Paranoid Kid
“I used to believe in all kinds of stupid crap.”
Ben turned on the high beams. They illuminated endless tawny cornfields. The road still seemed swallowed by the black night.
Ben glanced at Petra. Her leather jacket lay atop her like a blanket. Its arms dangled limply across her lap. Ben looked for an expression, but her face was veiled by hair. He returned his attention to the road.
“Like, when I was really little and I had to go to bed at 8. There was always something so sinister about that. I assumed the adults must be staying up for some reason and they were so boring that it couldn’t possibly be anything fun. No, clearly they were plotting.”
“Can we turn the fucking heat up?” Petra asked.
“Sorry. Old car.”
“Icy death trap.”
Headlights appeared before them on the road like the gleaming eyes of some great, crouching beast. Ben turned down the high beams. The beast gave them the same courtesy as it sped past.
“There might be some blankets in the trunk. I could pull over. But they’ll probably still smell like barn.”
“Just keep driving.”
Ben yawned. He squeezed his fingers tight around the steering wheel and he tried to concentrate. He fixed his gaze on the yellow dots dividing the two concrete lanes.
“It was worse at school, though. I had some trust in the parents, but I couldn’t imagine that in ALL those other classrooms kids were sitting at their desks listening to teachers just like I was.”
“You were a paranoid kid.”
“Well, I was always getting picked on at recess and the bullies seemed impervious to getting in trouble.”
“So… what? You thought the teachers were in league with the shit kids?”
“Oh, clearly it was something far bigger and more ominous than just that. I used to go around and peek into other classrooms. I was sure that one day I’d find the right room and expose their conspiracy.”
“It’s up ahead on the right.” Petra sat up very erect and let the jacket slide from her lap. She rolled her shoulders forward, shook her head back and forth, stretched her arms in front of her until her fingers touched the windshield.
In an instant the walls of corn stalks that surrounded them were gone and the car moved parallel to an old, wooden fence.
“You ready?” asked Ben.
“Will be. Slow up.” Petra undid her seat belt. She reached to the floor and put back on her jacket. “So what did you assume you were going to find?”
“Where?”
“In the classrooms… behind that secret door.” Petra twisted herself around to reach the back seat.
“Oh, well, I was never sure. Sometimes I would imagine I’d find a sweat shop with dozens of kids strapped to machines, furiously making toys. Other times I’d expect to find a medieval castle and Satan sitting on a giant throne with everyone I knew bowing at his feet.”
“Satan?”
“Yeah, I went through a hardcore Christian phase.”
Petra returned to sitting. She had a wad of bills in one hand, which she tucked into a pocket. In her other hand was a holster which she strapped around her ankle.
“Watch the gate,” Ben said.
The car slowed only slightly as they passed a boarded up gate and a faded “Town Dump” sign. Somewhere beyond it, a fire sent smoke into the inky sky.
“They were there,” Petra said. Her voice was alert, alive.
“Good luck.”
“Yeah. More speed.” Petra opened her door and leaned out. Wind rushed into the car and everything rattled. Petra yelled to be heard. “When I get home, you’ll need to tell me how you got over your paranoia.”
“Got over it? I haven’t even told you about what I thought my first girlfriend was plotting.”
Petra didn’t respond. She flung herself from the car and disappeared into the darkness. Her door swung wildly. Ben reached out and slammed it shut.
