Tunnel Vision

76

The sensation was back.

They were only a few miles into Maine on the northbound side of the turnpike. They had passed a long stretch of marshland that gave way to forests of pine and deciduous trees. Maybe it was the thick claustrophobic woodlands that triggered some recall or premonition, because a strange awareness hummed in the fore of his brain. And it was stronger.

He thought about telling Sarah but decided against it. He didn’t quite grasp what he was experiencing—if it was real, some quirk of his imagination, or if he had slipped into another neurological ditch. But the longer he drove on, the more he felt that he was following an invisible beacon beamed at him by some unknown source.

He kept his hands on the wheel, moving with the turns of the highway, half-certain that if he let go, the car would proceed under some weird remote control.

He was also convinced that whatever pulled him was not a matter of recall. None of the landscape looked even vaguely familiar. Nor was it some kind of déjà vu. In fact, it seemed like déjà vu in reverse. Instead of being compelled by things familiar, Zack felt propelled by a prophetic rightness. A prescient awareness maybe like the kind that inspired saints of old to take up spiritual quests—pilgrimages to sacred places.

“Zack!” Sarah screamed.

“What? What’s the problem?” He looked ahead, expecting to see a car in their path or an animal. But the road was wide open. “Why’d you yell?”

“You were driving with your eyes closed.”

“What?”

“I looked over and your eyes were closed. You dozed off.”

“No.”

“You did,” she insisted. “Want me to drive?”

“No, I’m fine,” he said. Dozed off? Did I really blank out?

“I think maybe we better take a break. The sign said there’re outlets at the next exit. I have to use the toilet, and maybe you can get some coffee. I can also pick up some overnight stuff.”

He didn’t like the idea, but a couple of miles ahead he turned off and merged with Route 1. They found a strip mall with several clothing outlets, and he pulled in and turned off the engine.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“I think I’ll just rest a little.” And he lowered his seat back and rested his head.

“Sure you’ll be all right?”

“Just a little tired.” He watched her get out of the car.

“I won’t be long.”

“Good.” She doesn’t have a clue, he thought, and he followed her with his eyes into the entrance of L.L. Bean. This wasn’t some serotonin country ride. This was a mission of salvation. Something bordering on a religious pilgrimage. He closed his eyes. A stabbing shock to his side made him gasp out loud.

A sign.

His eyes flipped open, and his heart started racing. He didn’t have much time. Where the hell is she? he thought. In there buying clothes while his father was dying by the minute.

Jesus, why did he bring her?