“A place that won’t punish, teach, or judge… it simply is.”
For the third time, Tommy Barker had nodded off while driving this stretch of highway. Thank goodness rumblestrips make excellent alarm clocks. Tired with nothing but open desert ahead, Tommy was determined to keep going. He couldn’t be sure how far the next town would be, but it had to be 50 miles still. It was the summer of ’88 and 18 year old Tommy was heading west from Tennessee to start a new life. One that involved learning how to surf and skateboard because chicks dug guys that surfed.
In the distance, a light shone like a beacon. The EZ-Mart wasn’t supposed to be there.
It just appeared on the horizon like an eagerly needed respite. A gas station-shaped mirage conjured from exhaustion. One that didn’t show up on the map. Not willing to look this gift-horse in the mouth, Tommy stepped on the gas and headed toward relief.
The lot was empty, lit yellow by a dirt-encrusted overhead lamp. Bugs danced in drunken circles around the flickering glow, locked in a never-ending quest for… for what? Salvation? Purpose? Or maybe just heat.
A strange buzzing filled the air, Tommy chalked it up to a bulb as tired as he was. The air was thick, pressing in on his skin like a too-familiar blanket, and there was a strange but not entirely unpleasant aroma hanging around. Not quite gas. Not quite rot. Something in between, like old coffee grounds mixed with rain on warm asphalt.
So out of place, Tommy wondered if this place had been conjured it out of sympathy or spite.
Inside, the air was colder than expected.
The clerk, a wiry man in a too-clean shirt, greeted him with a nod and eyes that looked like they’d forgotten how to blink.
“Long drive?” the clerk asked.
“Too long,” Tommy muttered. “Been chasing the horizon since Tennessee.”
“Ever wish you could just stop?”
Tommy leaned on the counter.
Thought about the question.
How tired he was. How the road had eaten pieces of him.
“Yeah,” he said, stretching. “Honestly? I just want off the damn road.”
The lights flickered once.
The hum of the cooler stopped.
So did time.
He blinked.
Same hum, different tone.
Same store—but now, he was behind the counter.
“What?!?” he thought before continuing aloud, “What is going on?”.
He was alone with no one to answer his question.
The scanner beeped.
The mop leaned on the wall like it had been waiting for him.
He caught a glimpse of himself in a reflection. Noticing he was wearing a familiar uniform with an oddly weathered name tag. It was his name. Tommy Barker – Sales Associate
Outside, his car was gone. So was the clerk he had just talked to. Wait had he been here the whole time? Was he just talking to himself? Confused, Tommy assumed he had to be dreaming and the vibration from tires meeting the rumblestrip would wake him any moment now.
That moment never came.
Surely this was a prank.
Or a fever dream brought on by too many energy drinks and not enough REM.
But time passed.
And didn’t.
As if he were a puppet on a string, Tommy set about performing mundane tasks that he had always done or, perhaps doing them for the first time. He seemed to know exactly where the soda fountain supplies where kept. In the mop bucket was fresh water. He wiped down the counters, waiting for the chime of the door sensor to announce a customer.
Customers came and went.
Strange ones.
Sleepwalkers, half-lost, muttering about towns that don’t exist and jobs they don’t remember quitting.
No one stayed long.
And inventory never diminished.
Time seemed a foreign concept here. The clock on the wall must have died. Tommy’s sense of future betrayed him, unsure of just how long he’d been there or when his shift will be over.
He began to notice glitches. Things that didn’t seem quite right. A customer graps a bottle from the cooler, pays and leaves. The cooler had no fewer items now than it did before the customer arrived. When did the taken bottle get replace? How did it get replaced?
Each time this would happen, Tommy would set about carefully watching the stock and each time he was distracted just long enough to have missed whatever it was taking place. Frustrated, he decided to see if the security cameras would show anything, but that too proved fruitless as the footage would stutter just at the wrong moment.
Tommy also found he was unable to leave the store. Oh he tried, many times. Each time he was about to step outside, he found himself right back behind the counter as if he had never left. When the idea of leaving entered his brain, he found himself with an unsettling feeling that he had tried this before.
“What the HELL is going on? Why am I stuck here? How am I stuck here?” Tommy lamented.
He was caught between the realm of being where he was supposed to be and being someplace he didn’t want to be. He had no way to explain his predicament or if there was even a predicament. What he knew and what he felt were incongruent.
As each customer would stop by (which wasn’t often it seemed), he would strike up the obligatory conversation. A conversation he felt like he’d had from their point of view… once. With each, “Long night?” and “Bet you’re tired”, he got the strange feeling from their responses that it was something about the line of questioning or perhaps the answers that led him to this place. Flashback to a prior event he couldn’t quite understand. Until… bingo.
The memory, finally opaque, is of his response. His insistence that he desired to get off the road. Had he made some sort of wish? One granted by some evil genie? Why?
It felt familiar, that wish. Too familiar. Like something he’d once said… or dreamed. With each conversation that climaxed in a wishful desire, the memory became more clear. He somehow knew that in order to escape this, whatever this was, he’d have to get someone to wish it.
Could he do that to someone else?
A charming lady came in, looking weary but content. She said she was a bit hungry and requested a slice of pizza. While he fulfilled her request, she grabbed a diet coke and came to the counter to pay.
“Headed home?” he asked.
“Yes, been away for a week on a business trip and super excited to see my kids.” she replied
Tommy really want to leave, but was conflicted. He didn’t want to wait until the next customer, but he didn’t want this one to experience the same fate that befell him. He saw the excitement in her eyes at the prospect of seeing her kids. It made him sad and he knew he had to end the conversation. That was until he caught his reflection in the window. He barely recognized himself. As if he was changing somehow. In that instant he blurted it out.
“Those long drives are the worst.” he insisted.
“Indeed they are.” she agreed, adding “I wish the drive was over already.”
Tommy drove away the EZ-Mart with a large soda and some sugar filled donuts. He’d hoped it would be enough energy and caffeine to keep himself awake until the next town. He’d already been on the road long enough and he wasn’t sure how many more dances with the rumblestrips he had before something bad occured.
“That clerk at the store was nice.” he thought to himself though he couldn’t quite explain the strange feeling he got while he was there. Like he’d forgotten something. Or left something behind.
