The Town
By: Isabelle Peoples
“Oh, god! Agh!” I hack and cough as the smoke from my car’s engine envelopes my face.
Waving the smoke out of my eyes, I peer into the hood of the car.
“God, you’re a piece of junk. Breaking down every half mile, I swear…”
Of course, I still love her. She may be unreliable, but this old Subaru has brought me everywhere I need to go. Until now. I gently pat her roof.
“You’re on your last legs, girl.”
Enough mourning over my dying car. Time for solutions. I duck my head, peeking into the internal workings of the car. “I see…”
“Oh.”
I grab a spark plug from within the machine and pull it out. “Damn.”
It’s completely fried.
And of course it’s the part I don't have on me.
I stand up fast, slam the hood of the car down. Too fast. The blood rushing to my head makes me dizzy. I turn around and sit down on the car’s hood.
I look around at the stretch of highway I’ve stopped on. I’m in the middle of nowhere in the dry Arizona desert. “God, this sucks.”
At some point, my eyes land on a street sign for a town that is only a half mile away. According to the sign, this town is simply named “Town”, but I won’t question it. I’ll just head to this place, grab a spark plug, snacks, and then get out of here.
I place the fried spark plug in my pocket, and begin my trek.
15 minutes later, I arrive at the Town. It reminds me of those “ghost towns” from old Wild West movies. The buildings are all made out of old, brittle wood planks, and they are all lined up in rows, leaving dusty paths between the buildings. My heart drops for a moment. Surely nobody lives here, right? Did I walk all this way for nothing?
Just as that thought crosses my mind, I hear a voice call out.
“Hello there mister! Welcome to our town!”
I turn to see an elderly woman step out of one of the dilapidated houses and hobble towards me, pausing only to grab a gnarled tree branch which she uses as a cane.
“Uh… hi.” I respond. “Do you live here?”
“Oh, no.” The woman replies. “I’m just visiting. I’ll be on my way soon enough.”
Something about the woman feels off to me, nevermind the fact that she’s very clearly not going anywhere at her old age. The way she’s looking at me… it feels wrong.
“I need a new one of these.” I explain, pulling the fried spark plug out of my pocket. “Do you know where I can get one?”
The woman studies the part carefully. “Hmmm…” I realize what it is about this woman that puts me off.
She doesn’t blink.
Her eyes blankly stare at the spark plug in my hand, almost looking past it, into… what? Just as I’m about to ask if she’s alright, her head snaps back up to me with surprising speed for her age.
“The general store probably has some of these! Here, I’ll lead you there.”
She extends her hand towards me, and as I lay my palm against hers, she grips my hand in strange, jerky movements. She walks me towards the general store at her slow pace as she babbles on about the buildings and people we pass, but I’m too busy looking at everyone's faces. They all have the same lifeless eyes like the old lady. Eventually, we walk through the battered wooden doors of the general store.
“Hello there mister! Welcome to our town!” The worker behind the counter greets me with a smile that’s too wide and a wave that’s too energetic.
“I just need a spark plug for my car. Do you have any?”
He stares back at me with his unblinking eyes and unnerving smile.
“Let me check in the back.”
The man hobbles down a dark hallway into the back of the building, leaving me alone with the old woman, who examines the products lining the walls.
“So, you said you’re just passing through here?” I ask.
“Yes, I’ll be on my way soon enough.”
I’m still confused as to how a woman as old as her managed to get all the way out to the middle of nowhere on her own, but that feels like a slightly rude question to ask straight up.
“Do you have a car?” I ask instead.
“Oh, no. Nobody in this town has a car! We don’t really deal with that newfound technology here.” That made me raise an eyebrow.
“You’re sure they have spark plugs here?”
“Please, I’ve been here fifteen years, I think I’d know if they have your so-called spark plugs!”
The woman lets out a soft chuckle. I open my mouth to question this but stop myself. This isn’t right. This lady’s just supposed to be passing through, right? Why is she still here after fifteen whole years? And if nobody here has cars, why would the general store carry car parts?
As I ask myself these questions, I’m suddenly hit with the sudden urge that I need to leave immediately. Something about this place is very wrong. I spin on my heel and immediately bolt out the door into the dusty path outside. The second my feet hit the ground, I’m moving.
I just have to get to my car. Sometimes they can run for a while without a spark plug, right? I’ll just try to hold out for the next town. In less than five minutes, I’m back where my old Subaru is.
Or, rather, was.
All that’s left now is a dusty patch of ground, and a puddle of oil.
Slowly, I turn around. Surveying the dry Arizona desert. There’s only one thing in sight.
The Town.
And now I have two options.
Either look for another town on foot, and end up dying in the desert heat, or accept my fate and go back to The Town.
Slowly, I put one foot in front of the other, and begin the end of my life.