The Pines

“What are you, crazy? You seemed like such a nice person. God, all of a sudden, you’re an obscene phone call! Now, would you quit it?” She smacked at his groping hand. “I think you just better let me out of this car.”

He was undoing his pants, fumbling with one hand. “You don’t have to do nothing. Just play with it a little.”

“Oh shit, would you look at what you’re doing?” She made a sound halfway between a scream and hysterical laughter. “I don’t believe this is happening. Why me? Would you stop that, please? Stop it!”

“Well, I can make you do it, you know,” he rasped. “Come on, it’ll only take a minute.”

“I’ve got news for you. It’s not even gonna take that long. Just who do you think you are?” Clutching her string bag, she considered jumping out of the car. “Just because…” Frightened laughter burst out. “You mean that’s it?”

“What the fuck?” His face registered disbelief, then blood flushed darkly into his cheeks. Enraged, he grabbed her left breast. She punched him on the nose.

Brakes squealing, the car skidded to a halt.

“I’m bleeding! Get the fuck out of my car, you bitch! My nose is bleeding! Get the hell out!”

“With pleasure!” As she started to open the door, he gave her a hard shove, and the door burst outward. She fell, her knees and elbows making deep depressions in the sand. “Oww! You little shit! Who do you think you’re pushing?” Gears grinding, the car lurched forward as she scrambled furiously to her feet. “Hey! Wait a minute, you can’t…!”

“Whore!” he screamed, repeating the word as he gunned the motor.

“Asshole!” she yelled back. “You’re only about two inches!”

Red taillights pulled away, disappearing around a bend, and droning cicadas drowned out the sound of the motor. She scanned the pressing tangle of vines and fir trees: a motionless horde of pines surrounded her, dwarf shapes with twisted and broken limbs, those along the edge of the road now showing gray beneath the rising moon.

Picking up the string bag, she brushed grit off her skinned elbows and knees and saw that one elbow bled slightly. “Shit.”

The hot scent of blood drifted on the night air.

She could see tire tracks in the sand, but not many. That creep must have come this way because he knew it’d be deserted. Dark and deserted. That’s the last time I hitchhike.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Half expecting to see headlights coming back, she rummaged through her bag. Wet bathing suit, makeup, half a candy bar. To calm herself, she ate the candy, licking the melting chocolate off her fingers.

Even the beach wasn’t this dark at night.

Though plump, Mary Bradley had fine bones and delicate hands, possessing a limp quality that approached gracefulness. Just now, the creamy skin she generally took such care of was sunburned as well as scraped, and her breast was sore where the old man had squeezed it. Yet she managed to grin at the way she’d told him off. At the office, she was famous for her shrill little rages.

The weekend at the shore had as usual been one long party. Too much sun, too much loud music and liquor. She had a regular ride home with her girlfriends, but she’d met this cute guy last night…and this morning discovered that the other girls had left without her. At least they took my suitcase with them. It had already been getting dark when she’d started hitchhiking. Bad move. She shook her head. Never again.

Should of made him let me out sooner. But the old creep seemed so normal. Some of her girlfriends told horror stories about their “dates from hell.” She couldn’t wait to tell them this one. Stranded in the frigging woods.

She peered up the road. Nothing. God only knew what time she’d get back to Philly. And she had to work in the morning. Not that she worried about losing sleep: enough amphetamines coursed through her system to keep her going. Diet pills didn’t really curb her appetite any, but they sure were great for partying. Maybe one of the girls at work would have some Xanax or Valium or something to help her crash. Otherwise, she’d be a mess tomorrow.

It’s too hot to breathe. And I still need to pee. She had the jumpy, thirsty feeling she always got after a couple of days on speed, and the crickets set up an echoing vibration in her nervous system. God, these bugs. A breeze stirred now, and it seemed the pines themselves began to resemble giant insects, prickly feelers twitching. I hope I don’t have to wait here forever.

Soon she became aware of a sound besides the insects, faintly hollow above the constant whir. Cars on the highway? It seemed to come from all around her, and she strained to listen. On second thought, it was almost like the roar in a seashell. Could she be close to a beach? Then she recognized the sound for what it was.

Trees. Hot night air stirring in the trees.

She felt very strange and queasy, isolated. Even the air doesn’t smell right. No soot, no gasoline fumes.

“Shit!” The mosquitoes had found her, and they whirred in her ears and eyes. Mosquitoes and God only knows what else. One flew in her mouth. She slapped at her neck, slapped at her bare legs, squashing something bloated and wet. Terrific. Dressed in cutoffs and a T-shirt, she’d be covered with welts soon. She really began to worry how long it would be before another car came along. An hour maybe? She could be sucked dry by then. And what if there wasn’t another car to night?

I almost wish the old guy would come back.

She tried to guess how far she was from the larger road they’d been on and, as she started to walk back that way, wished she hadn’t been so chatty and had paid more attention. This is weird. Spotted with weeds, the white sand glowed in the moonlight, making her feel unreal, as though she floated through deep darkness on fluid silver. A swarm of mosquitoes followed, swimming through the humid air, and she imagined that in the shadows of the trees, the crickets followed as well.

Her footsteps made no sound. It was like walking on the beach—her calf and thigh muscles began to ache, and the straps of her new sandals cut into her feet. When she took them off, the sand felt soothing between her toes.

Suddenly, she panicked. I’m lost! The patch of white trailed on into the woods, twisting onward into nothingness. Where’s the road? As she got her bearings and moved back, she shivered in spite of the heat, knowing she’d be in real trouble if she strayed far from this path. Something crawled down the back of her damp T-shirt, and she clawed it out, squashing it, wiping her hand on her cutoffs. She was pretty sure there were things in her hair.

Ahead, something glinted dimly. Just able to make out the shape, she raced for it, aching muscles forgotten.

Bullet holes riddled the sign, the red lettering black by moonlight.

WARNING

DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS

HARRISVILLE STATE PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL

4 MILES

The needles of the nearer pines might have been thin talons, stretched out straight and clutching.

WARNING

She took a deep breath then giggled shrilly. “Swell.” The sound of crickets receded. “If they find me laughing in the woods, that’s where they’re gonna put me.” The sound of her own voice made her feel better, and she giggled again. “Anyway, I bet they don’t really give weekend passes to the ax murderers.”

As it wove through massed darkness, the road seemed to narrow again, and she panted, glancing back the way she’d come. Just for a moment, it seemed the pines themselves moved, that they shifted almost imperceptibly,