Somewhere in Nowhere

Chapter 1

Fat drops of rain splatter across the windshield as I watch the speedometer creep ever higher.

Curfew has come and gone. It’s no longer a question of will I get home late, but rather, how late will I be.

Carole will be cool about it, but Mom will lose her shit.

I push ahead faster. The cool air is exhilarating as it rushes through my window and works its way in and around each tight curl on my head.

I feel practically airborne as I race against the clock.

I haven’t forgotten Mom’s threat to take my car from me if I keep missing my curfew.

I can do this. Just a little faster and I’ll be home.

If I’m lucky, I might even sneak in unnoticed. Unlikely, but possible.

The car careens to the right. The abrupt shift in my trajectory snaps my attention back to the road.

The headlights cast a glimmering runway on the wet asphalt.

I slam on the brakes, and the car begins to spin out of control.

A cold sweat trickles down my neck. Tires scream against the rough surface below as a panorama of cutting rain and passing lights spills across my field of vision. This is it. I’m going to die.

My shock gives way to self-pity and fear. Something warm drips down my face and onto my lips. It tastes metallic. Blood? No. Not metallic, salty. I lick the tears from my lips. Movement from beyond the now-fogged-up windows has my hair standing on end.

“Who’s there!” I cry out.

No one answers.

A shadow moves across the windshield, and I close my eyes in fear. When I reopen them, flashes of red and blue blur my vision. A bright light shines through my driver-side window, hurting my eyes. I put my hand up to shield from the glare.

“Kid, are you all right?” a voice says.

The light fades, and I put my hand down to see a police officer lowering her flashlight. I roll down my window.

“Looks like someone’s had quite the adventure. Are you hurt?”

My words stick in my throat like a thick spoonful of peanut butter.

“I’m going to ask you again. Are you hurt?”

Then the word vomit begins. “I’m okay now, but I was rushing home to beat curfew, and then the car was spinning, and I couldn’t breathe, and there was something…”

“Slow down.” She puts a hand on my shoulder. “Tell me what happened. You said there was something?”

I can’t tell her the truth. My face flushes with embarrassment. “There was…a deer,” I lie.

“A deer?”

“Yes, that’s it. I swerved to avoid a deer and now I’m stuck.” I can’t possibly tell her that I thought something was scratching from the inside.

“I see.” She seems dubious. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’m fine. Just shaken up.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“No, officer, I promise.”

“Well, I’m still going to need you to blow into this.”

She holds out a small metal box with a plastic tube on top. I do as she asks.

“Okay, good. Now I’ll need your license and registration.”

“Am I in trouble?” I hand her what she asks for.

“Just sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

She strides over to her cruiser. She’s gone so long; I can’t begin to imagine what she’s doing back there. I chew the corner of my thumbnail. She must be writing a ticket. Or worse, preparing to take me to jail! My brain won’t stop catastrophizing.

“You good?” Reappearing at my window, she hands me my license and registration but doesn’t wait for my answer.

“I called for a tow truck to pull you back onto the road; it should be here soon. I would also like to call your parents. You seem shaken, and I don’t want you back on the road alone once we get you out of this ditch. ”

Oh my God, why is this happening to me? I begin to cry, and she pats my shoulder.

“Hey, come on, stop that. Everything is fine. This could be a lot worse. You know that, right?”

I nod and rub the tears from my cheeks.

“Do you have a phone?”

I nod again.

“Please dial a parent or guardian and I’ll talk to them so you don’t have to.”

I pull my phone from my pocket, tap my contacts, and hand her the phone. “It’s my mom.”

She takes the phone and steps away out of earshot. I watch her pace back and forth talking on my phone in the rain that has slowed to a soft mist. I don’t even want to think about Mom’s reaction to getting a phone call from a police officer. I shiver as she walks back to me.

“Your mom is on her way. She’ll be here shortly. So, what do you kids like to talk about these days? Here, I have one for you. I have two dogs named Taylor and Swift. Funny story…”

This is going to be a long wait.

I’m grateful for the familiar sounds of Mom’s car arriving: doors slamming, and her and Carole calling out to me. “Simon, are you all right? What the hell happened?”

“I swerved to avoid a deer,” I say sheepishly.

Carole approaches and awkwardly tries to hug me through the car window while Mom, hands on hips, surveys the car looking for damage.

“You’re okay? That’s all that matters,” Carole says, letting me go.

“If any repairs are needed, they’re coming out of your allowance, young man. Do you understand?” Mom barks.

Carole rests her hand on Mom’s back. “Lindsey, now is not the time for that. Simon is safe. Take the win.”

“The deer is safe too,” I offer. Both Mom and Carole shoot me daggers as they approach the officer.

“Thank you for your assistance, officer, and thank you for calling me straight away. I’m Simon’s mom, and this is my wife, Carole. We’re truly grateful for your help and kindness.”

“No problem, ma’am. Just doing my job.”

“We just moved here to Rockville, but this young man insists on driving back to Columbia to hang out with his old friends. I knew something like this was bound to happen,” Mom says, and I could swear Carole gives her a gentle elbow to the ribs.

The officer shakes hands with Mom and Carole who are now bathed in the bright lights of the arriving tow truck. Officer Friendly comes over and pats me on the shoulder one last time.

“Be mindful of deer out on the roads at night, especially this time of year.”

The police officer gets back in her cruiser and drives away. Relieved I wasn’t given a ticket, I turn and grin at Mom who is not smiling.

“You are past your curfew.”

I stop smiling.

Within a few minutes, the tow truck has pulled my car back onto the roadway.

There’s no damage, but it’s splattered with thick mud.

Carole drives my car while I ride with Mom.

We don’t speak on the drive home, but I notice the tense lines in her face soften, and she occasionally glances over at me and gives me a small smile.

“Off to bed with you,” she says once we’re in the house. “School starts bright and early. You have a big year ahead of you, Mr. Senior Man. And in a new school to boot. I hope you realize you’re an extremely lucky young man. Be happy we’re not grounding you and taking the car.”

“I know, Mom. But I don’t feel lucky. I just want to be starting senior year with my friends.”

“We’ve already been through this, Simon.” Mom kisses me on the top of my head, and Carole gives me a small squeeze. “Now go to bed.”

They disappear into their bedroom, and I do the same.

My sweet friend, Sammy, is curled up on my pillow, waiting for a behind-the-ear scratch.

I sit on the edge of the bed and oblige.

He responds with a comforting purr. It’s hard to believe that a few short weeks ago he was living behind the dumpster out back and now he’s my best friend in this town.

He’s taken to apartment living quite well.

I close my eyes. I am home. I am safe. So why do I feel scared? I get off the bed and pace around my bedroom before I head to the kitchen for a glass of water. I tiptoe as quietly as I can, but Carole’s bionic hearing foils my attempt at stealth mode.

“Is everything all right? Are you sure you’re not hurt?” she asks, peeking her head into the hallway.

“Everything’s fine, Carole. I’m just getting a drink.”

“Okay, Simon, but be quieter, please. You know your mom has been suffering from migraines, and your little incident tonight didn’t help. Her new boss has high expectations, and she wants to prove herself. Let’s try to be supportive.”

“I know, Carole, I’m sorry. Maybe Mom would like a cup of her chamomile tea?”

“Simon Bugg, that’s not a half-bad idea. I think I’ll make her a cup. Sleep tight tonight, Little Bug. You must be so excited for your new school.”

“Yeah, really excited. Like going to the dentist excited,” I mumble as I drift back to my room and close the door.

“I’m not a little kid, Carole. You can call me by my name, Carole.

It’s Simon.” But behind my closed door, she doesn’t hear me.

I hear her, though, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets.

A clink of ceramic on glass is followed by the sharp, plastic snap of the microwave door. I guess she finally found the tea.

I hate it when they call me Little Bug. I am not a little kid anymore.

I’m almost seventeen years old! I can drive a car.

Well, sort of. I have adult problems, I have adult…

But Mom has always called me Little Bug, and now Carole has picked up the habit too.

Yeah, I’m small for my age. Yes, my last name is Bugg, a gift from my deadbeat, British father. But come on!

I pull the covers up to my chin and take a sip of water.

I consider reading another chapter in my book, but the alarm goes off early tomorrow.

I pick up Sammy instead and hold him close to my face.

Like a mighty motor, his purr reverberates in my ear.

I take another sip and choke on the liquid.

I’m apprehensive about starting a new school.

I’m worried about making new friends or finding the perfect girlfriend.

These are normal fears. But now I have another set of fears to add to my list. I could stop breathing again at any moment.

The scratching feeling inside might return.

I try closing my eyes, but almost immediately I jump out of bed to escape the racing thoughts.

My skin prickles with electricity and a cold chill settles over me. The dashboard clock said 11:22 when I couldn’t breathe, and the scratching began. A shiver runs down my spine. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, and I don’t even know why, but I fear this will be the time of my death.