“Fucking shit. Fuck,” she said as she pulled her Mustang over to the side of the road. The rear bumper scraped against the asphalt as the car moved from the intersection.

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“Oh that’s perfect!” she said, reaching for her door handle as the Buick that rear ended her sped away. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She tried to see the license plate, but could only make out an O, or maybe a Q. She glanced around. No other cars around at the moment.

Instead of getting out of the busted up car, she grabbed her phone from her purse and dialed her work.

“Hey Rob, It’s Mara. I might not be in today. I -- just got rear ended and the fucker drove off. Oh, I’m fine, just pissed. Right, I’ll let you know.” She hung up and just sat in her car. She felt as if she might cry, if she weren’t so angry. It was just one more mess in her mess of a life. No family. No friends. Crappy job. Crappy apartment. Car I can’t afford. Now this… Thunder boomed from a distance. She looked in her rearview and saw the storm clouds rolling in behind her. “Of course,” she said as she let out a sigh. She reached down to grab a sip of her coffee and remembered it was still sitting on the counter at home.

She knew catastrophes would happen, and they did, often. But she couldn’t yet see how this one would shape her life. From the time she turned eleven, she knew she had a gift, or maybe it was a curse. She hadn’t decided yet.

 

 

She remembered getting her first F in school. She was eleven and she needed her dad to sign her report card. She never knew her mom. She had died shortly after giving birth to Mara. Mara only knew her through what her dad told her, and pictures. Talking about her mother had always brightened up her dad, and Mara understood how much longing and regret still lingered with him. She often wondered if he blamed her for her mother’s death. She always felt like her dad expected her to live up to what her mother was, beautiful, smart, and so many things that Mara was not. So when she came home with her first F, she knew she had really let him down. He had signed her card and simply said, “We’ll need to work on bringing this up from now on.” There was no yelling. No punishment. Simply, disappointment. She could’ve handled anything except feeling that she let him down.

That night was the first time she had the dreams. They were vivid. And strange. She dreamt about her mother that night, but something about it seemed off. It was distorted, as if she had peered into a mirror and was watching the world happen on the other side.

During all the stories her dad told her, she had always pictured her mother walking and talking a certain way. She would picture her mother’s face doing all the things her father told her about. This dream was different, though. Her mother’s voice was unlike what she imagined. It felt real. She had called Mara’s name and, although unfamiliar, Mara knew who it was. She felt a hand close around hers, knobby but somehow soft. She looked up at the face. She recognized it as her mother’s, but different. Older, maybe? But full of life, unlike the photographs. Mara looked into her brown eyes and saw specks of honey color.

Then she was in a car seat in the dream. A small child now. Her mother and father were sitting up front, dad driving. She saw headlights getting brighter and heard things shatter. Then she was above the wrecked car looking down and saw her dad, crying and alone. Her dream then jumped to another time. It was her dad, sitting in their home. It was different, though. None of Mara’s things were there and her dad was younger. He sat on his bed looking at one of the pillows and his eyes moved to the empty crib in the corner. He wept quietly. All alone, gun on his lap. Mara and her mom, gone from him.

Mara awoke, nearly in tears, after that first strange and vivid dream. She ran into her father’s room, jumped on the bed, and wrapped her arms around him. He woke up and asked her what was wrong. She told him about her dream, every detail she could remember. When she had finished, she looked up at him and saw he was crying.

“Why are you crying, daddy?”

“Because--” He choked back the tears as he forced the words out. “Because when your mother was happy, her eyes always had a speck of honey color in them. And I know I’ve never told you that before.”

 

 

Mara sat in her Mustang, the storm blowing closer to her. Déjà vu. She thought she had seen this before. Or maybe she’d be seeing this again. She didn’t know yet. She never knew exactly how the dreams worked. They just happened. Always vivid. Always real. Usually insightful, but sometimes depressing.

She got out of her car to inspect the damage. She walked around to the back and saw the rear bumper hanging half off. Her tail lights were smashed, as was the trunk. The trunk was stuck closed.  Better than stuck open, I guess. She thought about what to do next. She could call a tow, but that seemed excessive. The car was still drivable, kind of. She decided to try and kick the bumper off the rest of the way.  A white work van with “Royal Flush” written on the side passed, and she realized how ridiculous she looked. A twenty-something woman, wearing a suit and heels, trying to kick off a shiny red bumper, unsuccessfully, too. She laughed at the thought of her own image and the clever name of the plumbing company.

As the storm drew closer, she decided to quit trying and get back in the car, especially since no cars had stopped to help her. She wasn’t surprised, though. People were like that. Making their own excuses for why they couldn’t stop. Late for work, don’t want to get dirty, figured someone else would help. Hell, she was guilty of thinking like that too.

She searched her phone for the closest gas station. 2.1 miles. Close enough to drive, dragging a bumper.

Mara looked at herself in the visor mirror. She had worked up a sweat kicking at the bumper and now that it was drying, it left her cold. Her hair was escaping out of the up-do she had crafted that morning, so she decided to just let it all down. Anything’s an improvement at this point.  Her eyes moved from her hair in the mirror to the looming thunder storm behind her. She hoped the gas station had an awning.

Mara and her red Mustang, with a beat up back end, scraped down the road. She thought the sight was probably just as ridiculous as earlier. She turned down a road she often crossed, but had never actually been down. Google had said the station was that way. It was one of those roads you find on the outskirts of a city that seemed untouched by civilization. A road often passed, but rarely traveled. She felt oddly at ease with the eeriness of it. But maybe she was just exhausted. She hoped they might have coffee there.

She drove the couple of miles at a sloth’s pace, looking around at the trees, admiring the color knowing that in a few weeks they’d be brown. She was so distracted she almost missed the gas station on her right. She pulled in jerking the wheel. The bumper scraped even more on the incline to the pumps, alerting anyone within fifty feet that she’d arrived. She pulled her car up to the front door. It was a small gas station, no awning, but had an attached mechanic’s garage. As she put her car in park, an old man stepped out of the gas station.

“Don’t need them bell hoses today. I heard you half a mile away. Thought for a sec you might keep driving past.”

Mara looked at the old man. He was tall and bony, and had grease stains under his nails, but his face had a child-like innocence when he smiled. His smile made her smile, despite the crappy day she was having.

“Heh, well I almost did pass you by. I was going so slow I thought there’d be no harm in admiring all the trees as they change. I really like the orange ones,” she said pointing to one right across the road.

“Yup, they sure are a nice thing to see at work every day. Most people now-a-days are going too fast to really take them all in. And those orange ones--”

He stared across the road where Mara had pointed. She thought he must’ve had a lot going through his mind as he stared. She didn’t want to disturb whatever memory or thought he held on to and let the silence linger.

Snapping back to the moment, the man looked at Mara again, “I see you might need some help, Miss?”

“I do. Got rear-ended and the guy drove off. My car still runs, but I can’t seem to get the bumper off, and I can’t drag it down the road all the way to work. You think you might be able to help me with it?”

“Sure thing. I’ll open up the door and you can pull it in the garage over there. I think I got something that’ll take it off,” he said, pointing to the bumper.

“That’d be great, thank you.” Just as she finished speaking, the dark clouds seemed to make their appearance over her and she felt the first rain drop on her cheek. The old man disappeared back inside and a moment later she saw the garage door go up. She put the car back in drive and pulled in to the garage.

“Shouldn’t take me too long. Why don’t you go inside and get something warm to drink. Got the best coffee around, the kind that takes away that chill.”

“That sounds perfect,” she said and noticed goose bumps all over her arms. She felt like the old man and this gas station were some sort of god-send, but she tried not to think about it. She knew that when things seem to be going well, sometimes there was a disaster looming overhead.

 

 

After that first vivid dream, Mara hadn’t known it was more than just a dream. She didn’t know that more were to come. They did come, though. She hadn’t really paid too much attention to them after the first one. It wasn’t until she turned 14 that she realized her dreams were different than other people’s dreams.

She had gone to her first high school dance with her three best friends. It was the Halloween dance and they had all dressed up like the Scooby Doo gang. She didn’t mind being Scooby, although the fur made her a little gamey underneath the suit. She was glad she wasn’t Fred. Her friend Sarah had the blond hair, so she had to be Fred. Sarah’s lanky boyish frame made it that much more believable. They had a lot of fun teasing Sarah that night, but all in good fun. They had placed third in the costume contest and had danced and danced, just the four of them.

Mara wore out pretty fast, though. Already sweaty under the suit, the eerily warm October day didn’t help her at all. She felt tired and dizzy from all the dancing and asked Sarah to call her mom for a ride. They were staying at Sarah’s that night and Mara had decided they should call it an early night. As they headed outside to call and wait for their ride, two sophomore boys were walking in, one of whom Sarah had the biggest crush on.

“Leaving already?” said the taller of the boys.

“Maybe. You just now getting here?” Sarah replied.

“Yeah. I hope you aren’t leaving this early,” he said with a smile, never looking away from Sarah.

Mara stood dumbfounded. She felt like she had done this before. Déjà vu. She felt smelly and gross, needing a shower, but she knew they should go back inside to the dance. She couldn’t explain why she felt that way.

“No, we’re just getting some fresh air. We’re definitely not leaving yet,” said Mara, seeing Sarah’s eyes grow at the prospect of staying.

Mara led the way back inside where the music thudded over their voices.

“I thought you wanted to go,” Sarah said looking at Mara.

“I think we can stay a little while longer,” Mara said as she smiled.

Mara sat on the bleachers at the dance the rest of the night, still sticky under the fur of Scooby. She watched Sarah dance with the boy for the rest of the night. The two of them danced and talked, their eyes never straying far from each other until the lights came on and the dance ended. Mara watched as the boy pulled out his phone and punched in some numbers, likely Sarah’s phone number, and then they kissed. Mara was happy for Sarah and she thought she was just being a good friend.

Later, Sarah’s mom picked them up and drove them back to her house. Sarah said nothing except, “Thanks, Mara,” and smiled the rest of the night.

It had been a good night, a great Halloween, and Mara fell asleep hoping for dreams half as nice. But as she slept, the evening replayed in her dreams, sweaty Scooby, third place, dancing, standing outside of the school. Except in this dream they didn’t go back into the dance. They called Sarah’s mom and left. She saw the two boys inside the dance. They looked uninterested or agitated, she wasn’t sure. She saw them leave the dance and jump into a Civic. She saw them driving around town, aimless and bored. Then she saw a lighter. The shorter boy held it in his hands as he moved it to a fuse. She saw a firecracker between his fingers. Everything was dark around them, but she could see shadowed line of trees.

Pppppeeeew. A bottle rocket launched into the air and popped. The boys were smiling now. They lit another, then another. The fourth one they lit traveled farther than the others and hit a tree, wedging itself in some branches. Then the pop came and the tree lit up. The dried leaves caught fire quickly, which was enough to set the limbs ablaze.

Mara saw the boys eyes grow to the size of dinner plates as they ran for their car and drove off. The flames on the tree brightened and spread. The wind blew the glowing embers into a nearby house. A pile of firewood sat outside and began to burn.

In a bright orange flash the house caught fire. The dried wood fueled the flames until half the house was burning. The roof caught on fire and a burned hole appeared in the side of the house. Mara could see red and yellow trains on the wallpaper inside the room. As the hole widened, she saw a little lump under a blanket on a bed. The heat from the fire distorted the images behind it until the lump and the trains became a wavy blur.

She woke up screaming, waking the other girls. She was sweating and shaking, unable to say anything.

Her dad picked her up from Sarah’s house and drove her home. She was still shaken from her dream, but started to feel better as she saw the sun beginning to rise. With her dad driving back toward town, she stared out of the window. Then she saw it. The outline of trees, the tree with the dried leaves, the pile of wood.

It was the house.

The one that had burned in her mind.

Mara felt cold as she stared at the house. Her gaze was fixed on the wall that had burned in her dreams. She stared at the only window on that side and she saw him. It was only a flash, a quick glance, but it was a small boy. He had a toy train in his hand as he looked out the window at the passing car. Seeing the boy, the one who would’ve been a little lump under a blanket made her realize the significance of her dream that night, the significance of the dream about her mom. She understood that she was given a glimpse into a future that easily could have been, but now, never would.

 

 

 

***

Mara stirred sugar in her coffee and took a sip. This really is the best coffee around. She took another sip. She felt the hot liquid travel down, warming her body from the inside out. She looked at her arms and saw her goose bumps were gone. Mara peered behind the counter of the gas station. She could tell there was a door, just beyond sight, that led out to the garage.

“Excuse me, sir? Do you have a restroom I can use?”

No answer.

“Hello?”

No answer.

Whhoooow. The rain hammered down like a dam had burst as the lights inside the gas station flickered off. Mara moved to the front window and looked out. The trees reeled like sling shots outside. The storm muted the bright orange of the tree. Then she saw something move, a little speck of muted orange crouched by one of the pumps. It looked like a kitten. She stared harder. It was a kitten. She put her coffee down on the counter and ran out. 

Trying to run, her heels proved troublesome. She kicked them off and ran barefoot. She got to the pump and saw the soaked, scared creature. She grabbed it and ran back inside. The kitten was crying as she bundled it under her suit jacket.

“You poor thing,” she said as she tried to dry its fur with her shirt. The kitten was filthy and now her shirt was too. She put the scrawny thing on the counter so she could look for something to dry them both off. That was when she noticed how deserted the gas station became. Her coffee was no longer there and a layer of dust blanketed every surface. The shelves were sparse, picked through long ago, and now untouched. She felt uneasy standing there. She turned back to the kitten and picked it up.

Barefoot, she headed to the door behind the counter leading to the garage. It was closed and she realized it was stuck on something when she tried pushing it open. She turned her back to the door and pushed harder. Her feet slid on the tile, but the door finally budged. There, she saw her car, bumper still hanging, but now covered in dust.

Mara stared, lost. It felt as if weeks passed by her with every heartbeat. She walked back inside the gas station and over to the window, holding the kitten curled inside her jacket. Outside the orange tree was bare. Snow blanketed the roads and fields, reflecting the sunny day, nearly blinding her.

“What the hell…” She pulled out her phone. Dead. She walked back to the garage, jumped in her car and started it, blasting the heat. She found her car charger and plugged in her phone. She took her jacket off, wrapped the kitten in snugly and laid it on the passenger seat. She turned on the radio, but only static came through. When her phone finally turned on, she had no signal but the date read 2/24, 4:15 pm.  Somehow, months had passed since she had entered the eerie service station.

Confused, she stared at her phone. She tried calling Rob, but there was no service. Her phone now functioned as little more than a clock. She left the car running and headed back inside the station. She looked around and found a blown newspaper in a corner. She picked it up and read it, “NUCLEAR ATTACKS ESCALATE AFTER DC LEVELED.” She felt like she was looking into a mirror as she read the lines.

 

 

Mara woke in a sweat. She grabbed her phone next to her bed and turned it on, full bars, 10/17, 6:11 am. She jumped up and turned on the TV.

            “We should have a sunny morning with a chance for some afternoon thunderstorms,” the weatherman reported.

            Mara punched in her work’s phone number. No one picked up. She didn’t know what kind of dream she’d had, if it was a dream. She peered out her apartment window. She could see the tip of the Washington Monument. She walked out to her car parked on the street. Her bumper was still attached, tail lights and trunk untouched. Out from under her car she saw a speck of orange. She crouched down and saw the little orange kitten. It mewed as it looked at her with its honey colored eyes. She picked the little guy up and he started to purr. She knew that she wasn’t going to work that day, or any day.

 

 

            Kitten in the car along with everything else she could fit, Mara headed away from her apartment, away from her work, away from the city. She took a sip of her coffee as she drove away from the city and toward the storm clouds looming ahead.

           

Bio:

'I am a recent graduate from Wright State University in Creative Writing. I live in Dayton, Ohio and I have lived in Ohio my entire life. My interest in writing came early, probably in grade school, but I didn't ever pursue it until the last few years of college. All it took was one creative writing class and I knew that was what I wanted to do.'