So I Went for a Drive, and Made a New Enemy Without Even Trying Very Hard

As I begin this tale, it is 5:05am Sunday morning.

All day yesterday I was Jonesing to go for a drive, but I wanted to go at an ungodly hour, so I set my cell phone to go off at 2am, and I attempted to sleep for a few hours...

It didn't take.

By 1:30 I decided the time was right for a moonless drive, so I got dressed, burned a special CD to commemorate the occasion, pounded a Red Bull, opened the sunroof, rolled the windows down, put on the music at MAX VOL and sped out of my driveway.

The night was "lovely, dark and deep." The roads seemed to actually sing to me as I sped in no particular direction. I hadn't a specific destination in mind, so when I got to Concord I thought... Okay, cool.

I drove through the city streets, seeking whom I might devour, and ended by cruising up Loudon Road. I stopped in at Club Seven for a quick soda, and that was when it happened.

Obviously, I had made no secret of my intention to go for a mini road trip, so when my phone rang it wasn't totally unexpected. What was strange was the "Number Unavailable" notification.

Still, I picked up and gave the usual greeting. From there the conversation went something like this:

Me: Hello? ... Hello? ...Uh...
Unknown Caller: static--then what sounded like a hiccup.
Me: Hello? Hello? Who is this?

(I'm known for my skill as a conversationalist with good reason as you can already tell).

Unknown Caller: Long silence, punctuated by, well, nothing.
Me: Well, okay, I guess I'll tell you about me then! It's 2:47am and I'm driving around Concord. (Light laugh) Anyone there? Hellooo?

Now this is where it gets weird. I'm just giving you a heads up.

Unknown Caller: (Almost in a whisper) I need help... Please... Oh god, they're coming...

Click. the silence at the end of the empty line was so thick you'd have to dish it out with a ladle and eat it with a fork.

At this point, I was dubious. Could someone possibly have the steel cojones it would take to mess with me?

Somehow, I didn't think so.

So, I resorted to my usual mode of travel when I have no place in particular to go, and no time constraints.

Psychic magnetism.

Oh yeah, I said it.

I never used to believe in anything like this, but it's worked for me so well in the past that I've learned to trust it as a valuable method of finding someone.

It goes something like this:

1. Clear your mind of all distractions.
2. Then, if you are looking for a particular person, try to envision him or her in your mind. SEE them there. Notice what they are wearing, and pay attention to facial expressions.
3. Next, simply drive, walk, rollerblade...
4. DO NOT try to use logic or think about where the person should be. Just simply go.

You would be surprised how often you will find the person you are seeking.

This also works well if you don't try to find a particular person. Eventually, just the right someone will cross your path. Seriously, it's weird I know... But oddly, serendipitous.

Anyway, back to the story part of this story.

I started my engine, turned the music down somewhat, and began to drive. I went back down Loudon Rd, took a left when I got to Main Street and then right on Pleasant St.

That's when I got the second call.

Me: Hello?

Silence

Me: Anybody there? Who are you?

Long pause

Unknown Caller: I keep running, but they just keep finding me. Please---

Me: Who is this? Where are you?

Unknown Caller: (In a whisper so low I could barely make it out) I'm on School Street, I'm on a porch. Please---Will you help me? They're coming.

Okay, now at this point, I feel that I need to interrupt this already someone disruptive story in order to explain something about myself. You see, whilst I was indeed a very odd little girl who grew up (physically at least, not so much mentally) into an even more odd woman, I don't generally pick strange people up at 3am.

In fact, I pretty much never pick anyone up that I don't know. Hell, I don't even pick up people I do know. I mean, when I'm driving, I'm in the f'ing ZONE. You could drive behind me for a couple of miles, flashing your lights and honking your horn and I would be none the wiser. Plus...

I've seen "The Hitcher" and I have no desire to end up skinned and worn by some psycho with mommy issues.

However, this was a special case.

I do not believe in coincidence, and the fact that I felt strangely compelled to follow my instincts meant something to me. So I took a deep breath, and said to the unknown person at the other end of the line,

"I'll be on school street in a minute. I'm driving a Corolla with pink fuzzy dice, and I'll be blaring the song "Driven" by Rush. Look and listen for me."

Unknown Caller: (the faintest whisper of a sigh) Okay.

At this point I was almost to School Street, so I raised the volume back up, and rolled all my windows down completely. I slowed to a cruising speed of about 10mph and kept my eyes open.

Just as I was about to pass a large yellow and green house, a dark figure darted out from under the overhang of its shadowy porch and made swiftly for the passenger side of my car. I unlocked the door and slowed down to crawl.

The person, clearly male, opened the door, jumped in, and yelled over the music, "Quick! We have to get out of here! Please!" I couldn't see much of him except his eyes, and they were desperate. He was dressed head to toe in what looked like dark blue pajamas and a, get this, MASK... Like, Lone Ranger style.

There were a dozen questions I wanted to ask, but they got tangled up in my throat like the shoelaces of a 5 year old just learning to make a double knot.

And then my back window exploded, shooting safety glass everywhere.

I slammed my foot down on the accelerator and drove up the hill as though... well, as though I were being shot at.

You know, it's funny... guns always seem so loud in the movies, but the sound I'd heard before my window exploded only seemed like a large fire-cracker. Of course that might have just been because my music was still blasting... Whatever.

The point is, I got us the hell out of there. I zoomed through a couple four way stops without slowing, then zigged and zagged around side streets until my heart stopped trying to bust out of my ribcage and into the night air.

We traveled in silence the entire time.

I finally stopped the car, hit the radio off button, put my car in park, and said,

"Who the hell ARE you?"

My passenger was silent as the grave.

No, actually, MORE silent than a grave.

He was in fact, gone.

In the seat beside me was... nothing except the detritus that has been building over the past week. Items found amongst the wreckage were: a 2010 yearbook from my school, my wallet, a credit card receipt from Starbucks, and my hat.

The hat was the thing.

You see, the brim was bent the wrong way... as though it had been sat on.

I held it in my shaking hands and just looked at it.

And then, as I smoothed the brim back into shape, I heard a crinkling sound, and a small blue piece of paper dropped out onto my lap. It read:

"Thank you, Pirate Queen. I am in your debt, and if I can ever stop running, I will find an repay your kindness to the best of my meager ability. For now I must go, as you are already in more danger than you can imagine, and I do not wish to have your blood on my hands as well.

Your reluctant debtor,

Shiro Linh"

I put down the note after reading it several times, started the car up, and drove aimlessly for a while. When it started to get light, I saw that I was heading down Rt 77, and I had no idea how I had gotten there.

Nearly an hour ago, I arrived home. It took me a few minutes to get up stairs to my bedroom, as my whole body was sore and achy from all of my muscles being clenched up for so long and the precipitous drop in adrenaline levels.

My back window is gone, I've apparently got yet ANOTHER band of ninjas with a grudge against me on my tail, and I still have some bits of glass in my hair.

Not to mention that the brim of my hat will take weeks to get back into the shape to which I am accustomed.

On the bright side... There's a ninja, or former ninja, out there somewhere who owes me a favor.

Which does leave me wondering... Who is Shiro Linh?

Better yet...

How in the sky blue pink hell did he get my phone number?

It's such a trip being me.