I’m not exactly sure what to think. He must be an employee here at the park, but, he isn’t acting like all of his comrades. While they search for me murderously with weapons and an unquenchable thirst for my blood, Jack here sits in the back seat with his legs crossed, smiling at me as if I were his best friend. But, for whatever reason, I trust him. I mean, every moron can see why I shouldn’t trust him, but, I just do. He’s too kind and innocent to seem evil.
I turn and look out of the windows of the ancient car, keeping an eye out for any approaching employees, or, is it enemies now? Anyway, after a quick glance out of the windows, I turn my gaze back upon Jack. As soon as I look to him, Jack’s tail begins to thrash about happily.
“What are you doing?” He asks me.
“I’m hiding.” I say back.
Jack’s tail stops wagging and he cocks his head.
“Hiding from what?” He asks me, confused.
It seems odd that he doesn’t understand why I’m hiding. I mean, they would tell him that they were going to kill somebody, wouldn’t they? I mean, he works here and all . . . it just is entirely too strange.
“From those other employees.” I say. “They just chased me in here. That’s why I’m in here. If I hadn’t have hid myself in your car they . . . they would have killed me for sure.”
“The other employees?” He asks. “Like, the other people that live here?”
“Yeah, who else?” I say to him loudly. “I mean, it isn’t like there are employees of any other place working here.”
“Alright.” Jack says, seemingly just accepting whatever I’m saying. “Well, how long do you have to hide?”
I jerk my head about and look out of the window when I hear something metal banging. I see the metal fence behind the parking lot jingle about and then the tree above it do the same. It’s just the wind, just the wind pulling on the fence, is all. I draw a deep sigh and then turn my eyes down to my lap.
“Until I’m able to get off this island.” I say. “I’m afraid to leave your car. I know I can’t make it back to the docks, not with those men out there searching for me.”
“Well, the docks are the only way off the island.” Jack says. “Well, unless you count the military base. There’s an airstrip there for long-range bombers that fly up over the Arctic Circle looking for the Red Menace, ready with nuclear bombs and whatnot.”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather like to avoid the military base, especially if they want to kill me too.” I say.
Jack shrugs and then lowers his eyes to his lap. As I look to him, I begin to wonder why he isn’t trying to murder me like the others. I cock my head to the side and lean against the leather seat, placing the side of my head against the headrest. I squint my eyes and then move my legs around beneath me, trying to make them comfortable as I kneel on them.
“Do you know why they would want to kill me?” I ask. “Or harm me at all?”
Jack raises his eyes up and then shakes his head. His eyes return to his lap and he begins to fiddle with his clothing, pulling and pushing at the belt that holds up his jeans.
“I don’t know much of anything.” He says. “I try to stay away from all the others that never leave this place. Whenever I get a moment of freedom, I like to go someplace private just to have some peace and quiet.”
He is silent and I begin to relax myself. Being with him makes me feel a little less stressed. It’s strange, this is probably the only moment that I’ve felt relaxed. When I was in the diner, I kept thinking about work, about my boss, about all the other poor slobs who are slaves to their work. I would always pity them, yet, I’ve become one of them myself.
“Is that why you came here?” I ask. “To come to the relaxing calm of the backseat of your car?”
Jack raises his eyes up and looks to me. He smiles gently and then nods his head.
“I like to dream.” He says with a calm voice. “Because in my dreams I can be whatever I please. I can do whatever I please, no matter what anybody says. I like being able to do things without a ‘yes, servant, no, servant’ from my master.”
“And who is your master?” I ask.
Jack shrugs.
“I can’t ever remember his name.” Jack says. “But all I know is that . . .”
Jack suddenly stops talking and his eyebrows begin to knit together. His shoulders clench up and he wraps his arms around his body. His face spasms and he groans and grunts, having the same epileptic-type attack that he had earlier. I sit back from the chair and watch him, not knowing what to do. But, before I decide to do anything, he calms down. His eyes reopen and he lets himself relax.
“What . . . what was that?” I demand calmly.
Jack looks to me and then shakes his head slowly, not as if he doesn’t know, but, as if he is very uncomfortable.
“This struggle.” He says after a long pause. “For control, for power.”
“For control?” I ask, surprised at his response. “For what?”
Suddenly I hear a bang come from outside. I lift my head from the leather headrest and look out of the window. When I cannot see fully out of the window, I push my body away from the seat and then sit down in the driver’s seat properly. Staring out of the window once more, I see a figure standing at the end of the parking lot.
It’s the bartender from the diner, the large horse, and he doesn’t appear to be in a good mood. He glares at us and then begins forward. As the sun begins to fully set, as I’ve almost failed to recognize due to my fixation upon my newfound friend, the street lights flick on, casting evil-looking shadows across the restaurant parking lot. I now notice a gleaming stainless steel cleaver clutched in his left hand.
“Oh shit.” I say, frightened. “It’s that demonic diner owner. And it looks like he’s brought a toy to play with.”
I hear Jack shift his weight about in the back seat, obviously scooting over to peer out the window at the stallion I have my eyes pinned currently upon. Then I hear him grunt, as if acknowledging what I see, but, I do not hear him make any sort of suggestion. Suddenly the horse begins forward, moving slowly and swinging his arms powerfully.
My eyes immediately turn away from him and I look down to the steering wheel before me. Suddenly I realize, or moreover remember, that I’ve been sitting in a car this entire time. I look into the rearview mirror and see Jack looking right back at me, as if waiting for me to say something.
“Jack, we need to get out of here.” I plead of him. “Give me the keys to the car, please!”
Jack looks down and then leans forward.
“The keys are in the ignition.” He says and the bends forward. “It’s in the dash, not on the steering column. Start the car while I get dressed.”
My hands go forward, my left clutching the thin, flimsy-feeling wheel, while the other goes to the right side of the wheel and begins to fumble about looking for the key. After just two attempts, I hear a jingle and then grab something protruding from the metal dash. I immediately turn it and hear the engine begin to choke and, with the application of the clutch, then rumble to life.
I smile and then look down to the stick going into the floor. I haven’t driven manual in so damned long, but, thankfully for my father, rest his drunken soul, I know how to drive many, many vehicles in many different ways. I grab the stick and then shift it into reverse as I apply the accelerator.
The hulking tank of a car lurches backwards and I throw the wheel about and then hit the brake, stopping the car. The lights come on and bathe the approaching horse in a bright and blinding light, forcing him to cease his advance and throw his arm up to protect his eyes.
“This isn’t good.” I say as I watch the horse. “There’s only one way out of here and that horse is playing goalie in this here football game.”
“Yeah, well, shoot for the corners and play the odds.” Jack says.
I glance up at the rearview mirror and see him pulling on his jeans while lying on the bench seat in the back. He keeps his eyes on his pants, not on me, and I look away. I sigh and shake my head as I see the dazed horse beginning to snap out of it.
“Yeah, well, I don’t like those odds.” I say.
“When the odds are stacked against you, the underdog always comes out on top.” He replies quickly.
“You read too many damned comic books.” I say, a bit of cheer lining my voice.
I hear Jack chuckle in the back, acknowledging my little joke, and then go back to pulling his clothes onto his body. I watch as the horse staggers back a step and then lowers his arm down. I see his eyes, even from this distance, adjust themselves and then narrow in anger. He then begins forward once again.
“Your petty tricks will not fool me, you dirty pinko!” I hear his booming voice cry.
“Tricks or not, I’m not letting you get to me.” I say through my teeth.
I put the car in first gear and then press the accelerator, making the engine rumble and the car lurch forward. Jack grunts in surprise as he is thrown against the back of the bench seat and I am even pulled back against my seat because of the thrust. The car flies towards the horse, slow at first, but gaining speed quickly.
The horse widens his stance and then opens his arms like a catcher straddling home plate, as if he were expecting a fast ball. I do not divert from my course and continue to charge the Chevy towards him like a bull towards a matador. As the car comes upon him, I make a fast one and swerve the car gently to the right.
The car clips the horse’s leg and entire left side, but, misses the mass of his body. I hear him cry out in pain, or anger, I don’t know which, as the one-ton car crashes into him with the curl of steel and the smashing of glass. The car charges out into the street and I hit the brake and swerve right, going out into the street and away from the restaurant.
Jack leans between the two bucket seats and I see him out of the corner of my eyes. I turn to him and smile as I shift up into the final and fourth gear. He smiles back, now fully clothed, and then looks forward. He doesn’t move from the back seat, not even by an inch. Instead he points forward and then to the left.
“Turn left here, guide the car away from the town. There’s a road that runs the edges of the island. If we can get to it, you’ll be safe.” Jack says calmly.
I laugh and then guide the car onto the road he just pointed out. I am so happy as to what I’ve just done. Adrenaline pumps through my body the likes of which I have never witnessed before. I guess it’s such a great break from the norm, that I’m just so happy as to be feeling it.
“What are you so happy about?” Jack asks me.
I smile and look to him, shaking my head from side to side, briskly.
“I don’t know!” I exclaim. “I should be pissing myself scared, but, I’m not! This is the most exciting thing that I’ve done in so many years that it . . . it . . . it just feels so great!”
I stare out of the windshield, beaming a smile that seems to have just sprouted out of nowhere. I stare out at the darkening road before me and watch the town turn into lines of shotgun shacks and larger houses and then the houses turn into forest. Things seem to calm down after several minutes that, for whatever reason, seem to feel like hours.
The island, although one of the smaller of the collection of many islands, is nearly sixteen miles across, large enough to have a lot of different things upon its shores. The town sits at the center of the island with different things sitting on the outskirts of the quaint little village. Suburbs and forests are what ring the village, trying to seem like the lost world of yesteryear.
Soon the sun is down entirely and the darkness wraps around my world like a suffocating blanket. I turn on the car’s lights at Jack’s instructions and cruise gently along the road. I smile gently, my heartbeat now calmed from the excitement of just minutes ago. I look up into the rearview mirror and see Jack smiling back at me, his tail wagging and waving about.
“So, where do you live?” I ask him. “Maybe I can hide there for a little while.”
“I live up ahead, in a farm house.” Jack says. “My uncle’s a farmer and I’ve been living with him for the longest time. There are a lot of people that live in the countryside on this side of the island. But just large families, not a lot of them.”
“I don’t know about people.” I say, my eyes pinned on his baby blues in the mirror. “If they got the message that all the townies got, maybe I shouldn’t be going to your home.”
“Well, I guess. I mean . . . it isn’t like they’d form an angry mob and come to lynch you . . . is it?”
Jack’s voice tapers off and I see his eyes look away from mine in the mirror, lowering down to look out of the windshield. I look away from the little mirror and see exactly what he is looking at and why he spoke like that. A mass of people stand in the middle of the road about a quarter of a mile ahead, blazing torches held high above their head.
“Is that an angry mob?” Jack asks, surprised at what he is seeing.
“See, I told you.” I reply.
“This isn’t good, is it?” Jack asks me gently.
“No, it isn’t.” I say with a shake of my head.
We’re on the only road going this way with no other paths diverting from it and a mob of nearly twenty people has formed to block it. With makeshift weapons, they stand in the middle of the road, ready to intercept us. I simply cruise along at forty-five miles per hour, right towards the middle of their bulkhead, hoping they’ll scatter before the inevitable happens.
“What are you doing?” Jack asks me.
“Playing chicken.” I reply.
“Chicken?” He asks of me. “This . . . this isn’t going to end well.”
“Probably.” I say solemnly. “But we’ll see if they’ll chicken out before we do.”
I feel my heart begin to race once more, picking up speed like the ancient combustion engine of this tank-of-a-car as I race towards the wall of people. My hand paws begin to sweat up, making the steering wheel slippery and making me nervous, but, I do not divert from my intended course. I’m going to play chicken and I’m going to win.
I watch as the angry mob begins to grow closer and closer, the people becoming bigger and bigger. I smile gently in excitement but begin to feel nervous, as indicated by the sweating up of my hand pads. I slowly depress the accelerator and narrow my eyes as the speed climbs higher and higher.
Suddenly the glass windshield explodes and shatters as a bullet flies through it, burying itself in the headrest of the passenger-side seat. My body tenses up and I let out a yelp of fear. My right paw goes to the brake pedal and I slam it down. The entire car jerks and begins to slide about. Finally, in fear, I jerk the steering wheel to the left and plummet off of the road and fly down over an embankment and go down a hill into a thicket of trees.
Jack cries out in fear as the road disappears and all the lights from the mob’s torches do as well. He grabs the headrest behind my head and anchors himself down to it. I brace myself against the seat and the steering wheel, watching as trees fly by on either side of the car.
I do my best to guide the car out of danger’s way, swerving out of the way of several oaks and other large trees. But, finally, in my fear, I slam on the brakes and throw the steering wheel to the left. The entire car turns to it’s side and slides. I clench my eyes shut and begin to howl in fear.
I feel the car begin to slow and then finally, it stops entirely. When it stops, my entire body shakes and shakes like a car on bad gas. I cannot tear my hands away from the steering wheel. It’s as if the pads on my fingers and palms are welded to the metal wheel. My eyes seem to act as if they are stapled shut.
The engine of the car hisses and the metal creaks and groans. Glass falls to the floor, making tinkling sounds as they hit the hard surface. Jack groans in the back and then whines, being just as fearful as I am. After the longest time, I build up my strength and I open up my eyes.
The glass windshield is completely shattered, that bullet taking a toll on it like nothing else. A tree in front of the Chevy is bathed in light from the headlights. I gasp for air and then let go of the steering wheel, hugging my body in fear. I then open the door and step out. Without shutting the door, I stumble back from the car, my eyes turning towards it and looking at what I’ve done.
The entire car is coated in mud from going off of the road and the paint is chipped, ruined from flying by trees with many branches. The chrome front bumper looks as if it’s going to fall off as well. As I survey the damage I’ve done, I notice the car sits just inches away from a tree on the other side.
Jack crawls between the front two seats and then puts his booted paws down onto the grass. Standing up, he steps away from his car and turns around, putting his eyes onto it as well. He steps backwards until he stands right beside me as he surveys the damage for himself.
“I’m . . .” I manage to stutter after the longest silence. “I’m so sorry.”
As soon as I am done talking, the chromed front bumper of the car falls off, slamming onto the ground and one of the headlights cracks and turns off. I feel my heart rise into my neck and my stomach begins to churn. I can just hear Jack berating me over what I’ve done to his car, but, I don’t want him to be angry. I clench my jaw shut and brace myself for his anger.
“It’s alright.” Jack says, calmly, surprisingly calmly, after a short pause. “It’s just a car.”
My body relaxes and I turn to look to him. He smiles at me, happy just to be alive, or, happy just to be with me. I calm myself down, lowering my arms to my sides, and smile in return. I then look to the car and sigh. I then go forward to the car and seat myself in the front seat with my paws outside on the ground.
“Well, now what are we going to do?” I say, whining with my eyes pinned on Jack. “I mean, what am I going to do? I don’t know how to get to the docks as I’m sure we’ve went in the opposite direction from them. And now there’s a mob out there who probably know where we are and are coming to kill me. I’ve wrecked our only ride and have brought you into the picture by accident.”
I put my arms on my legs and then lean forward, turning my eyes down towards the ground. Everything is silent for the longest time. Finally I hear the crunch of grass and see Jack walking forward out of the corner of my eyes. Soon he stands right before me and then he seats himself right before me.
“Honestly it’s alright.” Jack says with a kindly tone. “This is the first time that I’ve really enjoyed my freedom. It’s the longest time that I’ve been free, at least as long as I can remember. And it’s the best hour of freedom I’ve had because I get to spend it with somebody whose exciting and fun.”
I smile at him and he returns the good feelings.
“Me, fun, exciting?” I ask him. “I don’t think so. And why do you keep saying ‘freedom’ and ‘hour of freedom’? What does that mean?”
Jack holds his arms across his stomach and he looks away without turning his head away from me.
“Well, every so often I have the ability to do whatever I want. I mean, unlike the rest of the people that don’t ever leave this island, I get to have free will and go and do as I please. That’s when I usually go and dream or play by myself because nobody else here will play with me. I usually get about an hour a day, but, I’ve noticed I’ve been gaining more time. And today, I’ve been with you for about twenty minutes. I was asleep nearly an hour before you woke me up.” Jack says, explaining something that I hardly understand. “I don’t know why I’m able to be this way for so long?”
“What do you mean?” I ask him. “What do you mean, you get an hour a day for free will?”
Suddenly I hear something rustle in the distance and I hear an angry voice cry. I know it is them: the angry mob. They’re bushwhacking their way through this thicket of forest, searching to kill me. Jack turns and looks in that direction as well and knows that we must get moving.
“We have to leave.” I say and stand up. “But where?”
Jack turns and looks up at me. He then looks around me and over the car. I turn my head and look towards where he looks and see some light flashing through the branches. Jack rustles the grass and leaves on the ground as he climbs up onto his paws. I return my eyes to Jack and watch as he strolls away from me, around the hood of his car.
He goes to the branches of the trees and I’ve almost ran into with his car and then grabs them, wrapping his fingers around them. He pulls and pushes them until he makes a hole large enough for me to see through with my eyes. But, not sure what it is, I turn my body and march around the car to where he stands and peer through the branches.
“There’s your answer.” Jack says.
“Oh shit.” I say.
Peering through the branches, I look down onto a large army base milling with furs and soldiers. Lights flash about and vehicles zip about like busy ants on an anthill. Closest to us is a line of barracks and supply buildings and just beyond that is a long air strip, a B-25 Mitchell bomber sitting at it’s head, ready to take off. And all of this is beyond a twelve-foot-tall barbed wire-topped fence and a regiment of soldiers armed with rifles and machine guns.
“The airstrip.” Jack and I say in unison.
Then, sighing, I add, “Damn.”