What Madness is This?

Trixie

Trixie hurriedly crammed her overstuffed duffel bag into the back of her old Honda Civic hatchback. Biting her lip, she hoped for the umpteenth time that her beloved rustbucket would make the cross country trip and back without giving her any trouble. “Old Reliable” wasn’t always so reliable these days.

Dorneget The Dork, her fellow intern that she had persuaded to take her shifts for the next few days, watched her, half asleep. As usual, his semi-Neanderthal self didn’t offer to help. Chivalry wasn’t his style. If he didn’t owe her the monster-sized huge favor for when she covered for him last fall, she’d be up a creek. As it was, she had almost had to threaten to expose his shenanigans to get him to agree to swap assignments.

It was her own fault really. She still couldn’t believe she had mixed up the months for the Bob-White reunion. Even for her, that was a pretty lame move. Oh well, she got her shifts covered, her car tuned up, and she was ready to hit the road.

She had a long drive ahead of her but it was still cheaper than flying. Almost three thousand dollars for a last minute trip from Sacramento, California to New York. Three thousand dollars! Like she had that kind of money! Of course, Honey had offered to pay for the ticket, as had Jim, but Trixie refused. That was way too much money and she barely got by as it was. It would take her years to pay it back, and no way would she take it as a gift. She didn’t mention it to her parents either, because they would offer to help and they didn’t need that burden. She could drive, and her car was still pretty fuel efficient. It would take her a couple days but it was pretty much a straight shot across I-80. She didn’t need a lot of sleep and she would arrive Friday evening, according to her calculations.

Friday the thirteenth. She felt a shudder go down her back. She was going to ignore that part. She wasn’t as superstitious as old Mr. Lytell used to be, but there was definitely something dark to the thought of traveling cross country during Friday the thirteenth. And Dorneget had mentioned a full moon too. All the crazies would be out.

She tossed her head in defiance and started the car. In the passenger seat was a cooler with her sodas, munchies and maps. She plugged in her GPS, and popped in her tape-to-cd player converter. Bon Jovi blared through the little car and she was off.

Typical of California, the skies were blue with puffy white clouds and it was a nice day for a drive.

Trixie pulled into a gas station in Utah and up to the pump. Shutting off the engine, she rested her head against the headrest and sighed. She was tired. Her sugar rush had worn off a while ago.

Getting out of the car, she slipped the keys into her pocket and shut the door, and stretched, hearing various bones popping. Walking around to the other side of her car, she was startled to realize that the machine was old school, and didn’t have a credit card reader on it. She’d have to go inside to pay.

That was okay, she decided she needed a couple more snacks; she was hungry. Maybe a hot dog, if they had one. And she had to pee something fierce!

It didn’t look like they’d have hot dogs, she thought. The building was tiny, reminding of her of those forlorn, isolated gas stations that were always attacked by aliens and kidnappers in the movies. She shook her head to clear it of the thought.

Inside, Trixie knew immediately there was no hot dog or sandwich to be had. There was an aisle of candy, and she wondered how long it had been there. The drink refrigerator glass was dark with grime, as were the floors, and the place stank of stale cigarettes and booze. In fact, it looked like the refrigerators were mostly full of booze.

Trixe winced. There was no one at the counter either. But she didn’t know how far till the next station and her needle was hovering over E. Her bladder was about to pop but this place…she was afraid of what she might catch. She kept several rolls of toilet paper in the car in case of emergencies. This definitely would qualify.

“Hello?” she called tentatively.

A door opened and a tall young man stepped out, zipping up his pants. Trixie averted her eyes and repressed a shudder.

“Well, hi there,” he drawled.

“Hello, I um, need to fill up. Out there,” she glanced at him and did a double take.

Dan Mangan was standing in front of her!

No, she thought. Not possible. Dan was up in Canada! But this guy could be his twin. Except for the disturbingly large beer gut at a young age. And the unkempt attempt at a beard, flecked with bits of food. And the greasy hair. Dan would never let himself look so gross, she thought. Dan prided himself on being clean and neat. All the better to attract the ladies, he’d say.

The man grinned and Trixie couldn’t stop her flinch. Most of his teeth were missing and the ones that weren’t were so yellow and rotted, they wouldn’t last much longer. Dan was meticulous about keeping his teeth in perfect shape. He relied on his smile for seduction.

This was so not her Dan.

“Ah’m Danyel,” he said slowly, his dark eyes roaming over her.

Trixie suddenly wanted a shower. With a brillo pad. And Lysol.

“Hello,” she said politely. “Do I uh, need to leave my credit card?”

He just nodded, leering.

She handed it over, making sure not to touch his disgusting hand, and hurried outside to fill up the tank.

Trixie shuddered, watching the tank fill. She did not want to go back inside but she couldn’t leave her card. Thankfully, she had a big bottle of hand sanitizer in her car, but not enough for her whole body. Ugh, what a gross man!

Steeling her nerves, she went back in after replacing the pump in its holder.

“Triiixie,” he tried to roll her name off his tongue but the large wad of dip in his mouth got in the way and some tobacco juice dribbled down his chin.

Trixie felt her stomach roll over and forced a polite smile, trying to think of how Honey would handle this.

“Yes, that’s me,” she said, reaching for a pen to sign the slip.

“You ain’t from ‘round here,” he drawled.

“No, just passing through. Going to meet my boyfriend,” she said cheerfully.

His disappointment was evident as he passed her card back to her. “Wayull, have a nice day, ma’am.”

“You too.” She took the card and tried not to run out of there.

Safely back in her car, Trixie rubbed hand sanitizer all over hands, her credit card, and her hands again, before starting the engine and slamming her foot down on the gas pedal. Then she started laughing. Wait till Dan heard about his grotesque redneck doppelganger!

Right as she was leaving Wyoming, and about to enter Nebraska, Trixie realized she was low on gas again. This time she chose a big, well-lit gas station with plenty of activity. Though she had stopped for food not long ago, once she was done filling up, she went inside to use the bathroom and get something to nibble on.

The gas station had a mechanic shop attached to it and one of the mechanics wandered in, evidently on his break.

Trixie was studying the candy bar selection when a familiar voice said, “I’ve always been partial to PayDays.”

Startled, she looked up into a pair of green eyes she knew well. “Jim?” she squeaked in disbelief.

The mechanic laughed. “Well, James, actually, but close enough. You can call me Jim.”

He was the right height, had the right bright red hair, the freckles. His shirt had no sleeves and she could see his well-toned biceps, decorated with a variety tattoos, mostly dragons, and grotesque figures.

“Oh, sorry, I—you look like someone I know. Like, really—his name is James too, but we call him Jim. It’s really, just, wow.”

James looked amused. “Usually guys use that pick up line.”

Trixie felt her face turn red. “Oh, no, it’s not a line. I’m on my way home to see him. Them. Our friends. Reunion.”

James laughed and picked up two candy bars. “Well, have a good time.”

Still chuckling, he walked over to the checkout line.

Trixie watched him for a moment, and then shook her head. What the heck was happening? First a Dan doppelganger, now Jim? What next, her brothers?

Picking up a couple of Snickers, and then a hot dog from the machine cooking them, she went to check out at the counter.

“You okay? You look a little pale.” The cashier said.

Trixie blinked twice. The girl had long, honey color hair and hazel eyes. She didn’t quite look like Honey but…

“I’m having a very strange day,” Trixie answered.

“It’s the full moon,” the cashier said promptly. “A blue, full moon.”

“Nah, the blue moon is later this month. But it’s Friday the thirteenth coming,” said the other cashier, a few feet away. She turned around Trixie took a step backwards. The shiny, blue black hair wasn’t eerie at all, but coupled with the big, almost purple eyes, it was. “But there was some funky tidal thing going on tonight. Put ‘em together and all sorts of weird stuff happens.”

“Must be,” Trixie answered, paying for her candy. She just wanted to get back to her car and drive the Hell out of here.

Trixie spent the night at a small hotel in Nebraska and was up early the next morning. She still had a long way to go. She grabbed a quick breakfast at the diner nearby, noting the ten beautiful Harleys lined up. It made her think of Dan and his bike, and she remembered the bizarre events of yesterday.

She had just reached the town outer limits when she felt a tire blow. Swearing, she felt the car start to slide and took her foot off the gas. Managing to bring the car to a stop on the shoulder, she sighed, and turned her emergency lights on.

Getting out of the car, she walked around until she found the culprit; the back passenger side.

Luckily, she had a spare, but this was going to set her back a little, time-wise.

Pulling the spare out of her trunk, and the jack, she was just about to get started when she heard the loud roar of motorcycles.

Bikers, she thought happily. They would stop and help her. They tended to be mechanic-oriented guys and would always stop and help a girl. At least, in California they did. She had met several Hell’s Angels that way, and they were always friendly, helped her with a tire or whatever minor car issue she had, and got her on her way. She was perfectly capable of changing a tire, but, sometimes, it was nice to have a man around to help with that.

She looked up hopefully as four bikers pulled over to see what she needed. Her hopes were dashed when they got off of their bikes and sashayed over to her. And boy, did they sashay. These weren’t ordinary bikers, she realized. And they were likely going to be of little help.

The helmets came off and Trixie blinked several times. The one in front was another Jim lookalike. But his red hair was a little longer, and combed perfectly, with a neat little wave to the front. How did he keep his hair so perfect under that helmet? she wondered. She could glimpse a glittery purple scarf at his throat, under the black leather jacket.

He made a tch-ing noise. “Girlfriend, you look like you got some trouble there,” he said disapprovingly.

Oh yeah, these guys were going to be no help, she knew. They probably had much prettier nails than her.

“Just a bit,” she sighed, sliding the jack under the car. “Help a girl out?”

“I can call AAA,” one offered.

She shook her head. “They only cover your car if you’re a member, but thank you. I’ll manage. This isn’t the first time.”

“We can at least keep you company. Where you headed, California?” Jim’s double asked.

“Home to New York, for a reunion. But this is going to set me back. I’ve got to be there by tomorrow night.”

“Johnny, call your brother, the one with the tire shop. See if we can’t help this child out. I’m Jimay.” Jim’s twin held out his hand in a very elegant, ladylike gesture that Trixie had seen Madeleine Wheeler use countless times. She managed to keep a straight face as she took it.

“Thank you, Jimay, I appreciate that. What are you guys doing out here?”

“We had a show last night—dismal showing of an audience, really. I’ve got to find us a new agent. This Jonesy character—” Trixie almost choked, “is just awful. Books us in the most terrible clubs, in the most godawful hick towns. I mean really, does that last Dullsville you just came through seem like the sort to be receptive to us? No, I don’t think so. I may be related to him but he’s got to go.” Trixie nodded in agreement. Anyone named Jonesy was bad news in her book!

She started loosening the lug nuts holding the tire on. “I’d ditch him. That name is bad news for me.”

He nodded. “I think I should. Damn, girl, you’re good at that. You’ve got some upper arms strength! ”

Trixie eased the tire off. “I hate to say it, but I have a bit of history with these things. And I work out.”

“Well, don’t you worry. Johnny’s brother has a tire shop about an hour from here and he’ll get you a good price on a tire.”

Johnny walked over and handed Trixie the phone. “He’s asking about your tire type.”

Trixie took the phone and spoke to his brother. Something about the voice was familiar but she didn’t think much of it. She just needed to get the tire fixed and be on her way.

“If you’re going to be around tonight, in case the tire isn’t in stock, come see us at the Floating Rib,” Jimay said. “We’re doing our vampire show tonight. I get to wear the glitter so I’m Sparkly Jimay!” He struck an absurd pose with one leg extended, one hand behind his head.

Trixie couldn’t help but laugh.

Soon, she waved goodbye to her new friends after they escorted her to the tire shop and then drove off on their merry way. Hurrying inside, she stopped in her tracks when she saw the man sitting behind the counter.

He was the epitome of the classic nerd, down to the pocket protector. And he was another Dan Mangan doppleganger.

“Good lord,” she muttered.

“You must be Trixie,” he pushed up his super thick, tortoise-rim glasses as he stood.

“That’s me,” Trixie murmured. At least this lookalike bathed and had all of his teeth.

“If you’ll give me the keys, we’ll get your car back and get you fixed up right away.”

“Thanks,” Trixie said, studying him.

He did look like a nerdy Dan! His shirt tag even said “Daniel.” His dark hair was combed to one side and slicked down. His pocket protector was crammed full of pens. He had two different cell phones clipped to his high-waisted pants, and a Bluetooth in one ear. His shirt had been ironed and starched so stiffly that the creases were sharp.

“Do you mind if I sit down?” Trixie asked.

“Not at all. Would you like a drink? We have coffee and a soda machine. It should only take a few minutes.”

Trixie shook her head. “No, thank you, I’m just a little tired.”

She retreated to the waiting area. Trixie rubbed her temples in hopes of easing the headache that was forming. This was getting to be too much. Two Dans, two Jims, nothing like her friends. It was making her head hurt to think about it. She tried to ignore the news that was on the tv.

“I tell you, Mart, it’s not even Friday the thirteenth yet but I half expect showers of owls to appear next!” the anchor laughed.

“I highly doubt that, Brian,” the other anchor responded.

Trixie’s head came up. The anchors looked nothing like her brothers save one was blond and one was brunette but the names unnerved her.

“This isn’t Harry Potter, you know. However, if anyone sees shooting sparks in the sky, they probably should report it. It’s not often we have a full moon and a Friday the thirteenth. You know, Brian, the term ‘lunatic’ comes from the word ‘luna’, which the ancient name of the moon…”

Trixie tuned them out. She just wanted to be at home, on Crabapple Farm, with her friends and family. Moms would have all sorts of wonderful food cooked and everyone would have stories to tell and they’d sit up all night swapping stories and eating. It had been way too long since they had done that. How had they let so much time go by?

That’s the way of growing up, she figured. Everyone was scattered, following dreams and careers. Emails and texts and Facebook just didn’t cut it. But organizing seven people’s schedules was just so hard! Soon, she thought. Soon enough, she’d be home with her friends and family and all that yummy food Moms would have ready for them…

She must have dozed off because soon, Dan’s nerdy twin was gently saying, “Miss Belden? Your car is ready.”

She jumped to her feet. It was so unnerving to see Dan so…nerdish. But she’s take nerd over unwashed redneck any day!

Ten minutes later, she was in her car and on the road again.

Trixie had made it to the Iowa-Illinois border when she noticed she needed to fill up again.

Pulling into a station, she hesitated before walking inside. Who would she find this time? She was pretty much expecting another Jim or Dan at this point.

With a sigh, she pushed open the door. This one was small but clean. She could see the cashier from the back, and saw his long, platinum blond hair. He was too big to be a double for her brother, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the weirdness was over. She noticed the posters of the ocean on the walls and “Surfin USA” by the Beach Boys was blaring from a radio, brightening her mood.

He had heard the bell and turned around. Trixie heart sunk. It was another Jim, with bleached blond hair, a puka shell necklace, brightly colored baggy shorts, a hot pink t-shirt, and old, worn sandals.

“Hey, like welcome! You’re totally my first customer of the day, pretty lady!”

Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Um, hello. Just filling up and getting some water.”

He nodded with a knowing expression. “Water, man. Totally the elixir of life. I love the water. I miss it sooo much. I wish I was out there now, catching gnarly waves.”

“You’re from California?” she asked. Now it all started to make sense.

“I feel it in my blood. I’m meant to be out there, living in sand, riding the waves. That where I belong.” His green eyes were dreamy. “The water is where it all begins, man. Begins and ends, like one big circle of life.”

Trixie sighed. Surfer Jim. Probably stoned too. Great. “I feel like I’m in a big circle,” she muttered. “A never ending loop of crazy. I’m just gonna grab a few bottles of water.”

“Catch the big one!” he hollered, as she left a few minutes later.

Back in her car, she leaned forward, resting her head against the steering wheel. Friday the thirteenth. Full moon. She had never been particularly superstitious, but she was rapidly getting there.

In Ohio, Friday morning, Trixie got out and stretched her muscles. The tire side trip had cost her some time and she had driven late last night before finding a cheap motel and stopping to sleep. She had to make up for it today, and reach Sleepyside this evening. Breakfast would have to be fast.

She sat at the counter of the diner, tapping her fingers anxiously as she waited for her food, glancing at her watch.

“Such a pretty girl shouldn’t be in such a hurry,” an arrogant voice interrupted her thoughts.

She looked up annoyed, and sighed. Another Dan. Wearing a letterman jacket. Really? She thought. A letterman jacket? This guy was her age, and this was clearly a high school jacket. So this Dan look-alike was not only a jock, but one that hadn’t grown up.

He slid onto the stool next to her. His hair was combed neatly, he had all his teeth —some things couldn’t be unseen and that Utah Redneck Dan was one of them — but whereas her Dan had such a nice, friendly smile, this guy was just smarmy and arrogant.

She ignored him and sipped her coffee.

“I meant you,” he said pointedly.

“I know, I was ignoring you,” she replied.

He looked startled. “Now why would you want to do that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because you’re a jerk. I can tell by looking at you. Who the hell tries to pick up women at 8 a.m. in a diner? I mean, really.”

“Danny, stop hustling the women,” the waitress came by. “Order food or hit the road.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “My usual,then. You didn’t have to be so rude about it,” he told Trixie.

“You didn’t have to so arrogant about it,” she shrugged. The waitress set a plate of food in front of her and Trixie thanked the her. “I’m just passing through and I don’t have time for stupid games.”

“Wow, you’re direct.” He looked fascinated.

“Most people just say I’m tactless,” she laughed.

“Nah, just honest. That’s kind of nice. You shouldn’t eat so fast, you’ll make yourself sick.”

Trixie shook her head. “I’ve got to get on the road. I have somewhere to be.”

“A woman of mystery,” he looked intrigued. “Where you headed?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Trixie answered with a smile. Like she was going to tell some random guy where she was headed!

He looked disappointed. “Secret mission? Covert ops?” he asked wistfully. “I always thought it would be exciting to have that kind of life.”

Not very bright either, Trixie sighed. Probably due to too many head injuries in football.

“Something like that,” she said, shoveling her eggs into her mouth.

“Is it exciting? Nothing exciting ever happens here.”

She nodded and washed her food down with a swallow of coffee. “Can you keep a secret?” she asked quietly. Might as well have a little fun!

Nodding eagerly, he leaned forward. “Zipped Lips Dan, that’s me.”

She doubted that. Glancing around, she lowered her voice. “I’m headed to New York to help bust a gang of diamond thieves. They smuggled them into the country using these ugly Incan dolls. We’re got to break up the operation. But keep it to yourself. They’re blood diamonds, and we don’t want them on the streets.”

His dark eyes were intense on her, fascinated. “Wow,” he breathed.

Trixie gulped down more of her food. “Yeah, super serious stuff. They’re bringing in a special ops team from all over the country, seven of us.”

“What do you do?”

“That I can’t tell you. But don’t worry. We’ll get ‘em,” she winked at Dan. “We’re the best at what we do.”

Ten minutes later, she was back in her car, humming to herself as she left a starry-eyed former jock behind.

Trixie still had lot of ground to cover and only a few hours to do it.

Cruising through Pennsylvania, she hit a long line of traffic backed up on a two-lane road. They had been detoured off the Interstate for a chemical spill, and onto a backroad was forced off the interstate onto a detour. A flashing board sign indicated a chemical spill, so they were being rerouted. Her GPS didn’t like this at all. Trixie wanted to cry as the long line of traffic was turned onto the back road that wound through the country, and now they were at a standstill. The hours crept by as they rolled forward, bit by bit.

Finally, Trixie saw the cause of the holdup. There were two buggies that had evidently collided, and two Amish men standing besides them, talking. And the buggies were blocking the roads.

She groaned. She had forgotten she was in Amish country and they still drove buggies on the regular roads.

Once people were getting around the buggies, it was clear. She just had to maneuver the car off the road and around them.

As she slowly passed them slowly, she looked over and did a double take. Despite the funky hair and hats, there was no mistaking those two men. Jim and Dan!

“I am never traveling on Friday the thirteenth ever again!” she muttered. “This is ridiculous!”

Free of the blocked road, she put the pedal to the floor and followed her GPS to find her way back to the interstate. She had to haul ass to get to home in time.

Finally, long after sunset, she raced down Glen Road, easing up on the gas so she wouldn’t rattle her car to pieces and spin out on the old dirt road.

Gravel sprayed up behind as she swung into the front yard of her childhood home. She knew by the vehicles in the driveway who already was there. Leaving her bag in the car, she raced up the steps to Crabapple Farm, and threw open the door.

Please let Dan be Dan and Jim be Jim, she thought fervently.

“I’m home!” she shouted happily.