FATE'S PAST Page 7
“How do you know my name?” she asked.
“Dammit, Carrie! This isn’t a time for jokes!” The caller sounded panicked, and in this panic Carrie found remembrance, for she recalled the dramatic tone of the caller.
“Jack?” she asked with trepidation, hoping that she was wrong. “Is that really you?”
“Oh great, thanks. First you ignore me in the halls, and now you’re acting like you barely know me. What’s gotten into you?”
“Jack—”
“Carrie, please. We just need to talk. Like, soon.”
“About what?”
“Really? About what? About the baby, of course.”
She felt her heart skip a beat as a long-forgotten pain crept into her chest. “Jack, that was years ago.”
“Years ago? What the hell are you talking about? You told me about him, it, whatever, like, two weeks ago. Two weeks ago!”
“Jack, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re scaring me.”
“Carrie, please. Just please say you’ll keep your promise.”
“What promise?”
“You know. That we’re going to talk about everything tomorrow. At lunch. Don’t you remember? You promised we’d talk at lunch tomorrow. You won’t ditch me, right? I’ve been thinking about, like, everything. Everything. I have a lot I want to say. Stuff I don’t wanna tell you over the phone. Just say you’ll be there, okay?”
“Jack, I have to go.”
“No, don’t ha––” She hung up on him, exactly as she had over ten years ago.
She leaned over and rested her head against the wall as her eyes welled. Her pity did not last long as, a few seconds later, the phone rang again.
She picked up after the first time. “Jack, I told you then, and I’m telling you again now. Stop calling me.”
Silence on the other end of the line.
“Jack, you there?”
A female voice screamed, “Wwwwwwhhhhhhhyyyy?” The voice was so loud that Carrie’s eardrum rang.
Carrie dropped the phone, but the speaker continued to yell, “Wwwwwhhhyyyyy?” She ran to the door and pulled with all her might. This time the door provided no resistance, and Carrie smashed herself and the door against the wall.
She rushed out of the room and slammed the door behind her. Across the hall, another familiar voice yelled, “Hey!”
Carrie turned and saw Cameron. Oh thank God, she thought.
“Hey yourself!” she said back as she jogged towards him.
When they reached one another, they embraced like long lost lovers. For a while, there was quiet. Then Cameron asked, “You okay, baby?
“Yeah,” Carrie said. “I’m fine now. I just needed to be with you.”
“I completely understand.”
With her near, he heard her stomach audibly rumble. “Whoa there,” he said as he pulled back and kissed her on the forehead. “Sounds like someone is hungry.”
“Yeah,” she admitted as she clutched her stomach. “But I’m more interested in getting out of here.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. “After you. Especially since you have the only key.”
“My, my,” she replied. “What a gentleman.”
“My momma raised me right,” he stuttered as he finished the cliché.
She reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out the key. After unlocking and opening the door, he burst inside.
“Slow down there, speed racer,” she said.
“Sorry, just ready to get on the road. Ready to get out of this place.”
She silently nodded in agreement and walked to the bed. Having already packed herself, she sat and watched him roam around the room, shoving his remaining loose items into his luggage.
As she watched, the clenching and rumbling in her stomach grew worse. The feeling transitioned from a mere annoyance to an actual pain. Her face scrunched as she lay on the bed and closed her eyes, hoping the pain would dissipate. It did not. She could not remember a time she felt greater hunger, which made sense. They had not eaten since before embarking on the road trip.
“Hey,” she said. “You hungry at all?”
“Nope,” he replied. “Not even a little. You?”
“Yeah. Big time.”
“Oh no,” he said as he lifted his hands to a defensive position. “I better prepare myself for the hunger attack.”
“Oh stop,” she said with a giggle.
“Tell you what. Let me finish packing, then we’ll hop in the car and stop at the first place we see with food. I don’t care if they’re serving roadkill. Only the finest for my love.”
“Deal.”
“By the way,” he said. “Have you seen my keys?”
“Huh?”
“My car keys. Have you seen them?”
“Nope. I can’t keep track of all your crap, Cam.”
“I know, I know. Sorry. I’m sure they’re here somewhere.”
“Well, just hurry up and find them so we can get outta here.”
“Okay. Okay.”
She tried to relax as he scurried around the room looking for the keys. Every second of his search, the pain in her stomach worsened. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she asked, “You find them yet?”
“No,” he replied. “I swear, I left them on the table here. I swear.”
Unable to wait any more, she said, “Babe, how about this. I really need to eat, and like now. How about we head to that restaurant the old man was talking about? We can grab a quick bite, and then I’ll feel better and can help you find the damned keys.”
He was about to protest, but relented when he saw how hungry she looked.
“Fine,” he said. “But if we get food poisoning, I’m blaming you.”
“Okay. I can deal with that.” She sat up on the bed and said, “Give me a couple minutes to get ready. Then we can head the heck outta here. Sound good?”
“Sounds amazing.”
She scanned him up and down and noticed the perspiration on his brow and the urgency in his step. “You sure you’re doing okay, babe?”
“Yeah, I think.”
“You promise? Everything okay?”
He contemplated telling her everything. Everything. The mysterious Wynn room. The shadow with the knife. His one-night betrayal. What a relief that would be, to release all secrets in one fell swoop. But the rational part of him took over and he replied, “Yeah, everything is cool. I swear.”
She laughed as she said, “That was the least convincing swear ever.”
“Eh, you’re just hungry. You hear what you want to.”
After finishing their necessary ablutions, they left the hotel room. As they walked, the hotel remained as quiet and still as the night prior—there were no sounds of other guests preparing to face the day. And when they exited the elevator and stepped into the lobby, it was again devoid of human life. “I’m going try again to find the old man to let him know we’re checking out soon,” Cameron said, and Carrie nodded in agreement.
He walked over to the reception desk and pressed the bell. As before, there was only the sound of silence. But unlike before, the man did not appear. Cameron dinged the non-ringing bell three times and called, “Heeelllooo,” but no hotel employee arrived to greet him.
How the hell does this place stay in business? he thought.
Carrie startled Cameron when she appeared behind him and asked, “No one there?”
“Nope, doesn’t look like it.”
“Weird,” Carrie mumbled.
“Yup, but what about this place isn’t weird?”
“Valid point.”
“Well, no use worrying about it now. Let’s get some food and get out of here!”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
When they left the hotel entrance, Cameron noticed that there was not a single car in the parking lot aside from his. Also, although the
sun shone from above, he could not feel its warmth. The temperature was as it was the night before: unnoticeable. The morning was also barren of sound; no bird, car, or pedestrian was there to greet Cameron and Carrie.
Carrie looked at Cameron with reservation, and he squeezed her hand in reassurance. They then looked across the highway at the adjacent restaurant.
How the hell did we miss that? Carrie asked herself. It was a small establishment, adorned with dull maroon-colored wood paneling, unlit Christmas lights hanging from its roof, and a large sign that read, “RESTAURANT.” It stood in stark contrast to the monotonous greenery surrounding it. For a moment, she felt as though she, Cameron, the hotel, and the restaurant were the last remaining man-made inventions in the world.
“So, there’s the illustrious restaurant, huh?” Cameron asked.
“Yup. Looks fancy. I hope I’m not underdressed!”
“You look beautiful,” Cameron said. Her cheeks flushed at his comment.
“You ready?” Carrie asked.
“After you,” Cameron said as he bowed and gestured towards the restaurant in an overly formal manner.
They walked to the edge of the highway and looked for potential oncoming traffic. None arrived, so they darted over to the grassy medium dividing the two sides of the road. They performed the same routine a second time and they were standing in front of the restaurant.
The restaurant, like the hotel, appeared vacant. There were no cars in the parking lot and Carrie could not hear the sounds of patrons within. There were four darkly tinted windows in the front of the restaurant, each bordered by fat, white trimming. Cameron tried to gaze in one of the windows, and as he did so, Carrie asked, “See anyone?”
“Nope,” Cameron replied. “Don’t see a soul, although it’s really hard to see anything through this window.”
“Well, it is open,” Carrie said as she pointed a finger towards the sign hanging on the door. The sign read, “OPEN.”
Cameron analyzed the sign. “Yup, you’re right. It looks like it’s open. And I do think I can see light inside.”
“Well,” Carrie said as she shoved Cameron, “let’s go have a look. I can’t smell anything, but I’m sure I’m just gonna love this down-home Louisiana cookin’!”
They pushed open the restaurant’s front door, walked in, and scanned the interior, which was charmingly sparse—brown square tables surrounded by brown chairs littered the floor with little rhyme or reason behind their positioning. Various neon beer signs hung on off-white walls. Three fans spun above them, although the air was not affected. The restaurant was dim and stale. There were no smells of Louisiana cookin’ in the air, and no sounds of kitchen staff or patrons. Two deer heads hung on the right wall, Louisiana’s state flag on the other wall. Over a blue background, the flag’s foreground displayed a large, white pelican with its wings raised. The mother pelican’s chest was bleeding, and its three younglings were drinking the mother’s blood drips. Below the nest was a banner that read: “UNION, JUSTICE, AND CONFIDENCE.”
The flag mesmerized Cameron. “Wow,” he muttered as he walked near it to get a closer look. “Look at the Louisiana flag, Carrie! I’ve never noticed that the little baby pelicans are drinking their mother’s blood. How screwed up is that?”
“No way,” Carrie replied. She walked closer to the flag for further inspection. “Jesus, you’re right! That’s totally weird.”
“Yup,” he agreed. “I’m starting to think the whole state of Louisiana is a little weird.”
“I coulda told you that,” she said as she winked at Cameron. “Don’t forget, this was all your idea!”
“What? Don’t give me that! Haven’t you always said, ‘Cameron, we should go to New Orleans! Cameron, I just love New Orleans! Cameron, New Orleans is just so romantic!’”
“Nope,” she said as she shook her head. “Don’t remember saying any of those things. Doesn’t even sound like things I would say, honestly.”
“My, my, quite the selective memory you have there, my love.”
“I don’t have the faintest idea of what you’re talkin’ about,” Carrie said as she fanned herself. “Little ol’ me wouldn’t say those awful things!”
“Oh, quiet you,” he said. “You see a hostess anywhere?”
“Nope,” she said as she looked around the restaurant. “Was just looking for one and couldn’t find anyone.”
“Hello!” Cameron yelled. “We’re here and we’re hungry!” That was a lie—he wasn’t hungry, although he wasn’t full either. He was just there, exactly as he was the night before.
“Heellllooo!” Carrie yelled. “Anyone there?”
No one responded.
“Dammit,” he said. “Where the hell is all the waitstaff?”
“I don’t know. Probably out back taking a smoke break or something.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he said, unconvinced.
“Let’s just sit for a moment. I’m sure someone will be here to serve us in a sec. Seems silly to keep yelling like maniacs.” Carrie stuck her tongue out at Cameron, who tried to grab it swiftly. She saw his attack coming and retracted her tongue in the nick of time. They both smiled and sat at the table under the flag.
“I just can’t get over that flag,” Cameron said as he leered up at it.
“Oh, stop looking at that stupid flag and start looking at your pretty girlfriend.”
“I’m sorry,” Cameron said, cocking his head in feigned confusion. “I don’t have a pretty girlfriend.”
Carrie frowned. “You don’t?”
“Nope. I have a beautiful girlfriend.”
Carrie giggled. “Oh, stop.”
“Have you seen her, anyway? Been looking all over.” Cameron jokingly looked right and left and Carrie kicked him under the table.
“Shut it,” she said.
“So, my love, how have you enjoyed New Orleans so far?”
“Oh, I’ve just had a spectacular time!” she exclaimed. “Best vacation of my life, bar none.”
“Yup, same here. No contest. Well, except for maybe the time we flew to California. Man, was that a good time!”
Carrie shuddered. “We have got to get you over your fear of flying. We’d be in New Orleans if you weren’t such a pansy.”
“Hey now!” He said. “One step at a time.”
“I know, I know. But can you hurry those steps up a bit?”
“I’ll try,” he said and shrugged his shoulders. “You’re probably right. We should have flown. I just like driving.”
“I know you do,” she said. “But how are we ever going to get to Europe if you won’t fly? You do realize you can’t drive over the pond, right?”
“Hey now, I’ve heard they are working on developing cars that can float in the water. Or, we can just buy a boat! I’ve always wanted a boat.” He smiled over each of his absurd notions.
“Very practical, Cameron.”
“Truthfully, though, train, plane, or automobile, I’m just happy to be with you, sweetie.” As he said this, he reached over and grabbed Carrie’s hand.
She squeezed back. “Same here, baby. Although if I die before getting to Europe, I will hunt you down in the afterlife and kick your ass!”
“Tell you what,” he said as he extended his pinky. “I promise I will take you to Europe in two years or less. Promise.”
“Seriously?” she questioned as she stared at his extended pinky. “You honestly mean that?”
“Well, I don’t unless you pinky swear with me!”
She attacked his pinky with hers. “I’m gonna hold you to that, Cam.”
“I know what I’m getting myself into,” he said. “This whole trip has been a disaster so far, I know. A little more than a disaster, honestly. But, you can’t lie that it’s also been an adventure.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “It has been an adventure.”
“Well, I can’t wait to get into more adventures with you.” Cameron pretended
to grab and lift an imaginary glass to his right. “So here’s to adventures! May they never stop until our hearts do!”
She lifted her imaginary glass, they clicked their invented glasses, and both smiled. “Where the heck did you come up with that line?”
“No idea. It just came to me.”
“Well, I like it,” she said flirtatiously.
“So do I.”
“And I’d like to toast over real glasses of water, so I’m going to try to track down an employee. Any employee will do.”
“Good luck, Yang.”
“Thanks, Yin. Apparently, I’ll need it.” She stood, walked over to Cameron’s side of the table, and kissed him. “Be back in a second.”
“I’ll be here.”
“You better be,” she said as she tousled his hair and left.
Cameron sat there alone, and after a few moments, he was bored. He tapped his fingers on the table, his toes on the floor, and reached for his Blackberry. Dammit, left it in the hotel, he thought.
He looked up at the flag, entranced by it. The flag was quite a well-done replica; the pelicans even looked real, as if any moment the mother would squawk and the babies would chirp. Do pelicans even chirp? he thought.
Three drops of blood spotted the mother’s breast. The dots of blood were a dark red, and seemed to bleed out of the fabric. And as Cameron stared, he noticed a dot wetted.
What the fuck? he thought as the drop gained a dimension and lifted from the flag. The dot continued its slow protrusion until it fell from the flag and splattered right in front of Cameron, causing him to jump from his seat. He pushed out his chair and stood with such force that the chair shot backwards and landed on its side.
He trembled with terror over the tiny amount of blood that stained the brown table. Cameron lifted his head to meet the flag. Where there once were three baby pelicans, a dog appeared, its fangs embedded in the mother’s chest. The mother’s eyes were wider than before, and blazed with absolute horror. He stood still, hypnotized by the flag’s violent changes.
“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice said and someone tapped Cameron on the shoulder, causing his muscles to tense.
He cried, “Shit,” turned, and looked at the female standing behind him. The woman was an attractive fake blonde in her late twenties. She was tall and donned a figure-hugging lavender cocktail dress that revealed a moderate degree of buxom curves. And though her hair covered much of her profile, the dull shine in the periphery of her eyes exposed a mishmash of professional confidence and personal disarray.