Just Like That
A Short Story
By Jessica R. McDowell
Copyright 2011 Jessica R. McDowell
Just Like That
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And just like that, Justine scowled to herself, We’ve become distinguished members of that not so rare Indian tribe, ‘Wherethehellarewe?’ The digital compass in the center of the dash said they were going west, they were supposed to be heading south.
“We should have stopped at that last gas station and asked for directions,” Justine shortly told her husband.
He glared at her. “If you would just learn to read a damn map we wouldn’t be lost.”
She huffed her irritation and then plastered on a pleasant smile. “You know I’m directionally dyslexic. You should’ve figured out the route before we headed out, at the very least, used that fancy new GPS you got for Christmas.” If he had remembered to bring it, that is.
John was still driving in the wrong direction, making Justine more and more angry the further off route they became. “By all means,” she ground out through her teeth, “keep going the wrong way, it’s not like we have to be anywhere on time or anything.” If he made her miss her mother’s funeral she would never forgive him and she’d never let him hear the end of it.
And he knew it.
He pulled off at the nearest exit and headed for a gas station. After slamming the car into park he got out in a rage and stomped off in search of directions, male genes be damned.
Justine gritted her teeth. He could be such a thick-headed jackass sometimes. It was these very times she wondered why she put up with him.
Because you love him, she reminded herself as she climbed over the center console and settled behind the steering wheel. She wasn’t about to let him get back behind the wheel in the state he was in. His rage would earn them at the very least a speeding ticket, at the most, a trip to jail for road rage.
He glared at her as he returned to the car, noticing she had traded seats with him. Grudgingly he settled into the passenger seat and pulled two bottles of pop out of his coat pocket and placed them into the cup holders.
She looked at him. He was ignoring her. “Well?” she asked.
Icy silence.
He settled back in the seat and closed his eyes.
Justine narrowed her eyes in annoyance. “Did you find anyone who could help with directions?”
John drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, finally opening his eyes. He picked up the map, pushed the button on the overhead light and began figuring out exactly where they were, silently.
Justine grabbed the diet cola he had obviously bought for her, since he never touched the stuff, and downed a large gulp. It was going to be a long trip if he insisted on being a jerk the whole drive. She briefly contemplated turning around and going home, but she couldn’t, her father was counting on her to be there. He would need her. Surely this couldn’t be easy on the man. He’d lost his wife after all, the only woman he’d ever loved. Although she suspected God was the only one who understood the why’s of that little parody.
John folded the map into a more manageable size and traced a route with his finger, stopping to pull the map closer so he could make out a highway number then he turned and looked at his wife. “Head back the way we came and take exit 212 heading south.”
“Right, the very exit I told you take thirty seconds before you drove past it forty minutes ago.” Justine put the cap back on her drink, set it in the holder and put the car in reverse, backing carefully away from the gas station. Once headed back down the highway in the right direction she relaxed a little.
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?” She gave him a playfully snarky smile. “Talk to you?” When he rolled his eyes and glared back in irritation she reached over and rubbed his hand affectionately. “’Cause I love you,” she said in her best toddler placation.
He shook her hand off. “No, why do you always make things my fault?”
“That’s easy,” Justine chuckled, “they always are.”
John clamped his jaw tight and looked straight out the window, too angry to speak. Justine always making a joke was wearing on his very last nerve.
His silence grew thick as the miles passed and Justine took the correct exit. It was now completely dark and growing late, the little side trip had eaten up precious time, so now there was no time to stop and rest, they had to keep driving to be able to make the funeral.
The secluded length of road was quiet; their vehicle the only one that could be seen in either direction. John had fallen asleep as time stretched on.
Suddenly a blast of light shot over the horizon and blinded Justine. She panicked and slammed on the brakes, skidding the car into a jarring halt in the middle of the road.
John’s arms jerked up reactively as he came awake in a startle. “What the hell, Justine?!”
But Justine didn’t answer. Her gaze was locked onto the images emerging from the eye-watering light.
Her husband followed her gaze. “What the hell is that?”
Justine dropped her attention on the advancing, what the hell was that, and looked at her husband, irritation blooming. “How should I know? Do I look like Stephen Hawking?”
They both looked forward again as a hand came down on the hood of the car. The sound made them jump and lean away from the windshield.
“Oh, my, God,” they gasped together.
She quickly scrambled to make sure the door locks were engaged, but they popped up again as the creature came around to the driver’s side. They both slammed their hands over the locks and tried to force them down.
When the driver’s side door was thrown open Justine backpedaled over the center console and into John’s lap. He grunted and held her close like a shield. “W-what do you w-want?” he wheezed at the creature.
It leaned in the open door, its acne speckled skin giving off a pasty glow under the dome lights, and pulled up its sagging pants with gangly fingers. “We have need of a female,” it said in a reedy voice, sniffling.
“What?” Justine asked, visually giving it a onceover, “Why?”
It rubbed at its nose with the back of a hand and eyed them like they were lacking adequate brain functions. “You know, to tend apparel and nutritional functions.”
John gaped. “Seriously?”
“Quite,” it replied, bobbing a head too big for its thin body. “It is the purpose of the female species to provide care for the young, we need a replacement.”
Replacement? Justine swallowed that information and shored up her nerves. “What happened to your last female?”
The creature ran a hand through its unkempt, greasy hair and sighed. “She might have been worked to death, but the anatomical review is still pending.”
Justine’s eyes grew wide.
She quickly gathered her senses and thought, what do we know? One - They were in the middle of nowhere being body jacked by ETs. Two… Yeah, she really didn’t need to closely examine this little detour to Mystery Science Theater 3000. “Okay, there’s not a chance in hell I’m going anywhere with you.”
“You are opposed to providing assistance?” the creature asked. “We would offer adequate reimbursement to your mate.”
John stiffened, and Justine thought he was gearing up to refuse, but instead he blurted, “Sold!” She elbowed him in the chest and he cleared his throat and amended, “Um, she’s not for sale, I can’t just trade her off.” If only he sounded sincere…
“You haven’t even heard what we are willing to offer,” the creature said.
“I’m listening,” he replied, and Justine planted her elbow back into his sternum.
>
Eyes bright with hope, the creature signaled his fellow travelers waiting by the ship. “We have several valuable pieces in which to broker with.”
A pair of creatures very similar to the first one trudged forward with a large floating trunk and put it next to the open door. The first one opened the lid and tipped it forward. Inside was a stack of gold bars and a monitor as large as the lid. “I believe this is enough ore to sustain your needs for the duration of your life expectancy and the monitor receives all entertainment signals without need of subscription fees.”
John leaned around his wife and stared. Enough gold to fund a small country and unlimited sports? He was so taking this deal. He shoved Justine off his lap and toward the creature. “Deal, she’s all yours!”
The creature grabbed her arm and drew her out, pausing. “The offer cannot be terminated after we depart, we will not be returning. Are you sure you are happy with the terms?”
He nodded. “Yup, positive.”
“Why are you doing this?” Justine cried as they were dragging her away.
“’Cause I love you,” John replied.
As the spaceship sped off, Justine was busy passing sack lunches out to dozens of Peter Pan-esque aliens, she wiped her brow with the back of a hand and smiled tentatively to each one as it took her offering. They beamed at her and scampered off to do whatever it was they did on the enormous ship.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she thought as she used her foot to shove another load of clothes into the maw of an economy sized washing unit at her feet. She liked children after all, and these creatures truly needed and seemed to appreciate her. Continuing with lunch dispersal, she hoped John was happy in his new life.
John watched the spaceship hover over the landscape and then finally disappear into the darkness. The silence left in the wake was unfamiliar and he had to shake himself to make sure the past few moments had been real. He glanced to the large crate and smiled. What a bargain. The nag was gone and in her place was enough gold to start anew and unlimited sports via his new fangled TV.
He fingered the contents and frowned. In a panic he gathered up a gold bar. The shiny exterior peeled away revealing a chocolate brick. His frantic fingers dug into several more bars, each with the same results.
"Oh, no,” he whispered.
He grabbed up the controller and engaged the monitor, flipping through all the channels. Scenes of cartoons flashed; the cheerfully annoying offerings of Nickelodeon, Cartoon Network, and rockous broadcasts of MTV.
The remote tumbled from his stunned grasp. “No,” he wailed, “NO!!!”
Justine’s voice echoed as he sunk to his knees; “I love you.”
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About the author:
I was born and grew up in a tiny little town in West Texas where there was lots of room for a girl’s imagination to roam. The lack of organized activities left plenty of time for art and story writing, two of my favorite things.
When I was a teenager my family relocated to Southern California and I was exposed to a myriad of new experiences, the least of which was the booming military influence. I have always loved military vehicles, especially jets. Technology fascinates me. Exploring space has always been a dream, too. While in California I worked as a technical writer and illustrator for a naval government contractor while earning a degree in Photography.
I now live in Minnesota with my husband and daughter where I work part time as a freelance writer and photographer. I am a member of several critical writing groups where I lend a hand in helping other writers get their work ready for the world. I also write poetry and enjoy exploring the mixed media art fields.
I am enjoying the thrill of writing again and am truly thankful to everyone for being so supportive. Thanks a bunch.
I spend my spare time with family, friends, gardening, reading and relaxing at the lake. But stay tuned, I'm always working on my next story.
Connect with Me Online:
Facebook: https://facebook.com/McDowellJessica
My Blog: https://ionicfantasy.wordpress.com