From under the protection of a weathered wooden building Steve took in his surroundings. Lightening flashed and lit the desert in a brilliant pale blue light. Mountains shone bright as day against the backdrop of an angry black sky. Thunder crashed and shook the ground under his feet. Water roared through the wash across the dirt road that led to the freeway some forty miles distant. So close yet so far away, due to the raging torrent of water that would surely drown him and his jeep. Only ten feet across, its depth was unknown, and might as well be the Pacific Ocean. With the change in the weather his shortcut had become a longcut, and he would surely be late for classes in the morning. He ran his plump fingers through his dripping, bowl-cut brown hair.
“God this sucks!†Steve muttered. He shook water from his flashlight then banged it against the wooden wall of the building. It flickered to life and its dull yellow beam illuminated gray planks studded by large, old nails. Resigned to ride out the storm and attempt to dry off, Steve set out for the front door of the building. He shined the flashlight into the window but couldn’t see inside due to a thin curtain that hung on the other side of the door. The porcelain knob turned easily and the door creaked open. Steve stood in the doorway and scanned the room with his light.
Lightning flashed his silhouette on the far wall that was covered in bridles, feedbags, stirrups and yokes. Saddles stacked up on one another sat in the corner by a glass display case that contained straight razors, combs, pomade and wax. Shelves behind the counter contained rows and rows of canned goods and glass jars of fruit and jams. Blankets the size of bath towels lay on one another under the front window and picks and shovels of various sizes and shapes lined the wall behind the door. It looked like Steve had stumbled onto an old western Hollywood movie set.
Steve stepped into the room and tripped over a tin bucket on the floor. He shined the light into it and saw it was half-full of rainwater. He looked up and saw a leak in the ceiling. Someone had been here since the storm started.
“Hello?†Steve called out. “Anyone here?†The wooden floorboards creaked as he walked to a closed door past the counter. He leaned toward it to listen for sound.
“Hello?†he asked, tapping gingerly on the door. With no response, he turned the knob to reveal a storeroom. Wooden boxes lined the room except where a brass bed with a rumpled mattress sat in the corner. Steve’s flashlight flickered, then left him in darkness.
“Fuck!†He banged the light against his palm. The light was stubborn and refused to turn on. Steve probed the doorframe to orient himself and turned back for the main room. Thunder rattled the wooden walls. He followed the flashes of lightning and steady patter of rain back to the entrance.
“I can’t stay here all night,†he whispered in frustration to himself. The hood to his jeep slammed shut around the corner outside, and Steve jumped.
“Who’s there?†he asked quickly, holding his flashlight like a club. He peered around the corner to his Jeep, which sat out in the rain.
“These motorized buggies never fail to amaze me,†a tall shadow said, walking around Steve’s Jeep. “They don’t run on coal or wood, they don’t need tracks; it’s just amazing. This is the first one I done seen up close.â€
“I didn’t mean to bother you,†Steve said, “I just needed to get out of the storm.†He cautiously approached the lean figure.
“No bother pard’ner, I don’t sleep and you’re the first person been out my way in awhile.†Lightning illuminated the man’s coarse, craggy face, weathered and trimmed with a bushy moustache. His dark eyes were looking over Steve’s Jeep with clear admiration.
“Whatcha call her?†the man said, gesturing to the Jeep.
“What do you mean—call her?â€
“What’s her name? A man’s gotta name his ride.â€
Steve sized the man up. “I haven’t really thought . . .â€
“Looks like an Isabel to me. I really fancy that name. Isabel the motorcoach.†The man looked at Steve for approval.
“Yeah, that’s fine I guess. My name’s Steve.â€
“Good to know ya Steve, they call me Judd.â€
Steve shook Judd’s clammy hand. “Is this your place?â€
“Nah, I guess you could say I just work here.†Judd looked the wooden building over.
“Really, how long have you worked here?â€
The man thought for a moment. “What year is it?â€
Steve waited for a sign the man was joking. “Uh . . . 2007,†Steve replied.
“Makes it goin on . . .†Judd grabbed each of his fingertips. “Goin on 95 years, now.â€
Steve’s insides jumped. This guy wasn’t right. “Judd, do you know the quickest way to the freeway?â€
“The what? Oh, the coachroad?â€
“The road to Phoenix.â€
“Where?â€
Steve began to get frustrated. “I wanna go that way,†he said, pointing to the horizon. “I’m going to be late for school.†He desperately wanted to get away from the coot.
“There’s no school out there boy. Only thing between here and Prescott is Pumpkinville and the Hayden’s Ferry crossing—just a bunch of farms and Mexicans.â€
“I’ve never heard of those places. You’ve never heard of Phoenix or Arizona State University in Tempe?â€
“Arizona State? You’re in Arizona Territory, son.†Judd cinched up his pants by a large buckle on his belt.
“Is this some kind of joke?â€
“Why, are you laughing?†Judd asked slowly.
“You’re one of those old west role players or re-enactors or something . . .â€
“Old west? Yur not makin’ much sense boy.†Judd pulled the sides of his long dark coat behind his hips and hooked his thumbs in the corners of his pockets. “T’aint no wonder you’re lost. You’re confused.â€
“ I’m confused? I woke up in my parent’s house in San Diego this morning and left late for school at ASU. I took an off-road shortcut to get to school by sunup and ended up in the Twilight Zone. I know where I’ve been and where I want to go. You asked me what year it is, tell me you’ve worked here for ninety-five years yet you look like you’re in your thirties, and say you’ve never seen a Jeep before.â€
Judd looked over his shoulder at Steve’s Jeep. “I like Isabel better,†he drawled, “but name ‘er what ya want.â€
“You didn’t hear a word I just said did you?†Steve said quickly.
“I heard it all, the only one I was interested in was ‘Jeep.’ Frankly none of it made much sense to me.â€
“Thank you, you’re the one that’s confused,†Steve said wearily.
“Well now hold on there, I think I can explain,†Judd said, raising his open palms. “I’m what ya call a specter.â€
Steve paused and considered his options. He could play along and get out of there before Judd did something to hurt him, or he could try to take the coot in a fight. Never a fighter, Steve slowly moved towards his Jeep.
“A specter huh, like a ghost?†he asked.
“Yeah that’s the word they used when I showed up here,†Judd nodded. “They called me a ghost. Everyone ran off and I haven’t had anyone else to talk to since.â€
“Until I showed up,†Steve said, taking a few steps back.
“Yeap. Nothing to do for ninety-five years except keep this place clean. I’ve found I hate dirt.â€
“Living in a desert, keeping dirt out of the store must be a full time job.†Steve took a few more steps back. “Or should I say, not living in the desert.â€
“You wouldn’t believe it,†Judd said, looking at the store. “The place is ready to fall apart.â€
Steve turned away from Judd and kicked his shoe into the mud. He stepped closer to the Jeep and put his hand in his pocket to get his keys.
Judd didn’t seem to notice. “Hey I’ve been thinkin’ if that much time has passed, maybe the places we’re talkin about are the same places.â€
“Could be, I’m sure a lot has changed in ninety-plus years.â€
“Well that’s just it; I’ve been here that long. It took me a spell to find
this place. I spent a lot of time wandering.â€
Steve nodded and took his keys from his pocket, careful not to make any noise. “What’s the last year you remember?â€
“Spent a lot of time drunk, but the last year I remember is 1891.â€
“That is a long time ago.†Steve stood by the spare tire on the back of his Jeep.
“So you say a lot has changed?†Judd asked thoughtfully. “I wonder what all is different.â€
“Everything,†Steve smiled, stepping to the driver’s side of his Jeep.
“Really! Everything?â€
Steve nodded.
“I see you and Isabel packin up to leave, mind if I join ya? I wanna see that.â€
Steve had hoped it was less obvious he was leaving. “See what?â€
“Everything, pard’ner!†Judd walked over and leaned into Steve’s Jeep.
“I tell you what,†Steve offered, “I’ll be passing this way tomorrow. I’ll pick you up when the storm is over. I don’t have a roof on this thing and it might start raining.â€
The cowboy chuckled. “Clara didn’t have a roof on her, neither. Man’s not a man if he’s ‘fraid of getting a little wet,†Judd said shaking his head.
“Clara . . . your horse?â€
“See? You and I are just beginning to understand each other. C’mon boy, I’m not made of wool, I won’t shrink.â€
Water ran out of the seat when Steve sat in it. He fumbled with his keys and started the engine.
“Woooo boy listen to that noise!†Judd yelled. “Sounds like you’ve got a bear in there or somethin! This is gonna be fun!â€
“Judd, I really have to be going . . .â€
“Lemmie grab my hat!†Judd ran for the shop door and disappeared.
Steve reversed his Jeep quickly and turned around. His tires spun on the slick mud as he floored the gas pedal. The Jeep fishtailed but roared between the cactus and desert bushes.
Steve looked into his rearview mirror. The old shop glowed red from his taillights then disappeared into the darkness behind him.
“What the fuck!†Steve shouted over his engine. “That was crazy!†He laughed out loud. “That was like some shit out of Deliverance!†He accelerated to put as much distance between him and Judd as possible.
“Woooooooo hoooooooo!†Judd shouted from the passenger seat. “I’d always wondered if I could do that!â€
Steve jumped. “What the hell? How did you . . .†He struggled to keep driving.
“I’ve seen a few of these motorized buggies on the coachroad and wondered if I could ride in them!â€
“I left you back there,†Steve said, “you were in the store . . .â€
“Yeah I know, you were in a hurry to get back to Pumpkinville or someplace, it’s understandable.â€
Steve shook his head. “You’re really creeping me out, man.â€
“I don’t know what that means, but I know that tone. I thought we understood each other, pard’ner. You’re the only friend I’ve had in a hundred years.â€
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I left you there, and here you are,†Steve explained.
“Is it my appearance? I can change that. You won’t even see me!â€
Steve looked at the empty passenger seat and sighed in relief.
“Is that better?†Judd asked.
Steve slammed on the brakes and skidded to a muddy stop. “Where are you? What the fuck is going on?â€
Judd reappeared in the passenger seat. “I thought you understood. I’m a ghost.â€
“You can’t be a ghost, there’s no such thing!â€
“Well here I am, how else do you explain it?â€
“I must be hallucinating or something. You’re a figment of my imagination.â€
“I don’t understand your ten dollar words, son, what do you mean, figmet?â€
“ Figment. I’m just making you up in my mind.†Steve shook his head. “You don’t exist outside of my mind.â€
Judd thought for a moment. “Well if that’s the case I have to go with you to Pumpkinville.â€
“No you need to get out,†Steve said tersely.
“Out of your mind? How can I do that? Don’t I go where your mind goes?â€
Steve slumped on the steering wheel. He couldn’t argue with Judd’s logic. “I need some serious help.â€
“I can help you pard’ner, we’re friends, trailbuddies.†Judd leaned uncomfortably close to Steve. “Do you need some help steerin’ Isabel?â€
“No.â€
“Do ‘lucinations steer motor coaches these days?â€
Steve shifted back into first gear and began to roll. “No they don’t.â€
Judd sat back in his seat. “What do figmets do in the modern age?â€
“The word is ‘fig-ment,’ and they don’t drive, that’s for sure.â€
“Do ghosts?â€
“You’re not driving, Judd.â€