I'm walking my usual route, back and forth, back until I reach the tangle of gnarled trees, forth until I reach the graffitied exit sign. The monstrous roar of the cars rushing by is jungle-wild.
The high speed traffic kicks up a wind of debris I can't quite feel and gives off a stench of burning rubber I can't quite smell. The sun shines robustly overheard, sending laser beams down to reflect off side mirrors and into my eyes. In the past that would have given me the worst migraine.
These days I’m less sensitive. My feet don’t even hurt, and I never stop walking.
My infinite routine is interrupted when a pea green sedan pulls up.
A woman jumps out—no, a girl. She can’t be more than eighteen. She’s got long dark hair and she’s wearing a denim jacket and black leggings.
Oh boy. It's her.
Wait. No it's not. It can’t be. But I'll be damned if this girl doesn't look just like her.
Okay, so I'm apparently already damned, but still. This is no coincidence. It’s clearly a test: a golden opportunity for a stab at redemption.
Failure is not an option. God knows how many centuries will pass before the next opportunity rolls around.
"I can't believe this," the girl is muttering to herself. "I don't have a spare tire. Who even knows how to change a tire anymore? Just gotta—oh. No service. Of course. Of course there's no service."
I try clearing my throat loudly and waving my arms around to get her attention, but no luck. She tries her phone again, still talking to herself.
"Voicemail. It's getting through. This will work. Dad? Your car blew a tire on the LIE! Exit Fifty-Seven! I'm trapped here! Send help, okay? I don't even know who to call!"
She hangs up and immediately starts dialing again. "What am I, stupid? I do know who to call. Just gotta keep my head. Crap. No service again. Okay, I can wait. It’ll come back."
Then she vomits by the side of the road. "Ugh. I don't even have water. Oh God, I'm gonna die here."
Perfect. Now's my chance.
"I would try to avoid dying here if I were you. Been there, done that. Not a good time."
"Who said that?” She squints in my general direction. “Was it you?"
It’s working! She sees me! “Do you have a mole on your left wrist?”
Her mouth drops open. She rolls up her sleeve to show me. “How did you know? And why are you see-through?”
“I don’t have all the answers. You do remind me of someone though.”
“You said you died here? How?”
"My girl—" but that wasn't right. We were never girlfriends. That was the problem. Best friend? "My favorite person on the planet and I were driving home from a party and fighting. I was yelling at her because she didn’t want to go public and she started crying so hard she couldn’t see and ran us off the road.”
The doppelganger cackles cruelly. My girl had a witchy laugh like hers. “Tough break. I guess that’s why you’re still hanging around. Unfinished business.”
“I don’t think so. I always knew I’d end up a ghost.”
“You knew?”
"It's genetic. Mom’s side."
“Like a curse?"
"Kind of! Grandpa used to sit at the dinner table with us. He died before I was born. And when Aunt Sally choked on a hot dog at that same table she haunted us real bad. Blamed my mom’s food, I think. She would make all the pots in the kitchen rattle and Mom would start yelling like 'Sally, I always told you not to yammer away while you were chewing! What did you expect?'"
“Your mom sounds full of wisdom.”
"I actually think my dad inadvertently Heimliched poor Sally to death. He did his best.”
“Right. So now you’re just gonna hang out on the side of the road for all eternity?”
As if I have a choice.
“I’m stuck. In the beginning I had more energy. I walked to the rest stop up ahead and these guys were talking about what happened, like, ‘it’s so tragic, young love snuffed out like that.’ So she did say it. I guess she told everyone about us at the funeral. I just wish she’d done it sooner."
"Maybe she never would have if you’d stayed alive. Maybe it took you dying to make her. Plus, you know. Sympathy points.”
"Maybe. But now I'm stuck here instead. Which would you choose?"
She gives me a wicked grin. "I would have dumped that girl so fast. So neither." Then she looks at me gravely. "For real though, I've gotta tell you something. It's me. I'm the love of your life. Oh, and I'm dead too. Does that mean we can be together forever?"
My heart would be skipping several beats right now if it still functioned. “Are you serious?"
"No, actually. I'm just messing with you. Haven't you ever broken up with anyone before?"
"Um." I shuffle my feet, sending a crushed Coke can skittering in the process. "Not really. My life was short."
"Trust me on this. You've gotta move on, girl."
That’s when a white truck pulls up.
"Oh look, it’s Triple A. My dad must have called them. I’ve gotta handle this. Anyway, nice meeting you!"
She hurries around her puddle of vomit to greet the driver.
And that’s that. So much for redemption.
It’s getting dark. There are fewer cars now. The sky is cobalt with orange streaks.
Maybe my vision will go next. That would suck. But now I see Grandpa and Aunt Sally walk out of the underbrush in a cloud of sparkling mist.
"Hey guys," I sigh. I've been anticipating their visit for some time. "Any travel tips? I'm getting really sick of this highway."
Sally shrugs, massaging her throat. "Have you tried hitching a ride?"
No. No I haven't. But that's an idea.
*****
Thanks for reading! I know you’re all mad that this story isn’t serialized, but it was written in response to a prompt. Subscribe to Fictionistas and try one for yourself!
I have a horror of my tires going flat in dangerous ways (probably because I used to get flats all the time in my old car) so this story jumped out at me!