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Ersatz (Chapter 1)
🕑 Added 2023-03-02 13:23:41 +0000 UTCDrew
The trip odometer rolled to 1014. Wow. Already over a thousand miles into their road trip and it felt like they just started. The dashboard clock and starry night sky said otherwise. So did Drew’s body.
“So what do you think?” Tyler said.
Drew stifled a yawn out of politeness. “Hm?” Tyler said. “What was that bud?”
“The Star Wars Theory,” Tyler said, with a hint of confusion and hurt. “That Jar Jar Binks is a Sith Lord?”
Drew ran his hand through his light brown, reddish hair; not that there was much left. He was still closer to thirty than to forty, but his hairline didn’t know the difference. Drew kept everything on top buzzed short so that one could always see his scalp and made up the difference with his beard. It wasn’t at hillbilly levels, but it was thick enough that he genuinely didn’t remember what his chin and cheek looked like anymore. “Was he, though?,” Drew asked. “I don’t remember that.”
Tyler narrowed his eyes, suspiciously. “Not officially,” he said. “It’s just a fan theory.” Tyler looked confused and exasperated.
They’d been friends for many years, but the pair were constantly prone to miscommunication. This was because Drew had something of a naturally flat monotone in his inflection along with a serious case of resting stoned face; even while sober. He was excellent at bluffing in poker.
His dry sense of humor, and love of trolling caused the lightest bit of friction between himself and his found family. He loved pretending to misunderstand things and have people have to repeat and over explain themselves. The building frustration and then annoyed relief when he said “I’m just fuckin’ with you” was like poetry.
That kind of trolling was the height of comedy to him. He’d once ad-libbed a long elaborate joke with zero point to it and strung everyone along for close to ten minutes. The punchline had been, “No, no, Clown. Fuck you.” He’d been the only one to laugh because the point of the joke was to waste everyone’s time in listening to it and have an underwhelming punchline. The failure was what made it funny.
The downside of being a perpetual boy who cried wolf is that Britney, Tyler, and Christy were constantly wondering if any given misunderstanding or long story on his part was just another set up for a stupid joke only he really got.
“Are you fucking with me right now?” Tyler asked.
“No, bud,” Drew shook his head. “Sorry. I just zoned out for a second. Kinda tired.” The sun hadn’t been up when they started this morning, and it was back down again.
“Oh shit,” Tyler took on a worried and apologetic tone. “Do you want to pull over? I can drive if you ne-.”
“No thanks,” Drew shook his head. “I’m good. So what were you saying? Jar Jar? Sith?”
Tyler opened his mouth to start again, and blanched, likely wondering whether Drew was being polite or not. “You sure?”
“Yeah, bud. Go ahead.”
In so many ways the two men were complimentary opposites of one another. Tyler wasn’t completely clean shaven, but only broke out a razor once or twice a week; leaving his face with a nigh perpetual five o’clock shadow. His light blonde hair with green highlights was messy and unkempt most days. His features were rounder than Drew’s, too, though he carried it well enough to not seem fat. It’s just that as they aged out of their twenties and into their thirties, Tyler’s metabolism had slowed down but his dietary choices hadn’t gotten the memo quite yet, even though his waistline certainly was starting to catch on.
Conversely, Tyler was talkative, expressive, and an easy read. He was also something of a hyperactive geek. If anyone let him, he’d ramble for hours about different cartoons, comics, movies; whatever people allowed him to talk about, really. Listening to Tyler talk was easy. Getting a word in edgewise once he started was the challenge. He wasn’t self-absorbed or rude; his mind just wouldn’t stay still once it started up.
Over the years, Tyler had become aware of that fact, and was now becoming self-conscious. There were times when Drew could tell that Tyler was holding back a torrent of useless trivia like a little kid trying and failing to keep a secret.
Britney thought Tyler probably had undiagnosed ADHD, but had confided to her husband that she didn’t think it was her place to say. Tyler was fairly sensitive, after all. Always had been since they were kids.
Speaking of Britney, Drew’s wife tapped him on the shoulder from the backseat. “Babe? Maybe we should pull over.” Shorter and plumper with big hips, and long billowing raven hair, Brittney was group’s designated ‘Mom Friend’. Every group had one, and Britney excelled in her role.
Objectively speaking, ‘Mom Friend’ was just another way of saying ‘leader without leading’. Britney planned and prepared everything. She’d introduced Tyler and Christy to one another back in highschool; planned both sets of weddings; and was the driving force for pretty much every outing, double date, and group vacation the four friends undertook, including this one. Now that they were all very much adults, Britney was the primary driving force behind their friendships doing something other than fading into nostalgia.
When Britney wanted something done, it got done. It got done in the nicest, softest, gentlest, most diplomatic way possible, but it was going to get done. All Drew had to do was accept that, and help her make it happen while ensuring that her own ambition didn’t stress her out.
Drew let out another yawn. “I think I’ve got another hour or two in me,” he said. “We’ve driven for longer, right?”
“Yeah,” Tyler said. “When we were kids. We’re getting old dude.”
A soft smile crept up from Drew’s chin. That wasn’t that long ago. Also, the man had just been giving a thesis on why a cartoon rabbit was actually supposed to be the main villain of a movie he hadn’t watched since before his voice cracked.
“I might have to pee,” Christy chirped in. “So pulling over might become a necessity.”
Drew stopped an annoyed grunt. Christy always had to pee. Tyler’s wife might as well have the bladder of a four year old. It wasn’t her fault. When you had to go, you had to go. They just would have made better time if Christy didn’t need to piss every two hours.
Christy was technically the youngest, but only by a year. The way she naturally looked and dressed exaggerated the difference. Like Drew, she was skinny, though not as boney as he. She kept her light brown hair short in a bob cut, and dressed in comfortable rainbow colored clothes. The breast reduction surgery she’d had a few years ago had helped her with her back problems. From the wrong angle, it made her look like she was thirteen and not thirty. Until she opened her mouth and spoke.
Christy wasn’t as loquacious as her partner, but there was a good chance when she opened her mouth, that she’d say something either oddly poignant or darkly, comedically inappropriate.
She’d been best friends with Britney since elementary school, the story went, practically right out of diapers. When she’d developed a crush on Tyler in highschool, some matchmaking had occurred via Britney, resulting in a positively adorkable couple that had stayed strong through over a decade. Then Drew had come across them in college and the trio had become a quartet.
“Come on, babe,” Britney gently coaxed. “We covered a lot of ground. You did good today. Let’s get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” Tyler agreed. “Let’s look for a hotel or something.” His eyes were already scanning the highway. Britney had declared it. Tyler knew what was up.
“Yes,” Christy agreed. “Hotel. Hotel good.” She was jittering in the backseat. Nerves or just a nervous bladder? Was there a difference? “Kind of cramped. Tired. Overstimulated.”
It had been a while since any of them had slept in a car. They were a little bit older and just a little bit softer. Drew was too. He just didn’t want to admit it. For all the freedom they now had, it could be hard not being in highschool sometimes.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s start looking.” Spending a couple hours horizontally would do his body good. It also meant he didn’t have to grapple with somebody else driving. Tyler was a terrible driver.
“You okay?” Britney asked so gently that even in the car, only he could hear.
“Yeah.” Drew said. Britney reached her hand forward and he gave it a kiss. “Just tired.”
“Let’s get some sleep.”
Tension rose half an hour later. They’d picked the wrong stretch of interstate to get exhausted.
“Do you think transporter technology like in Star Trek is actual teleporting?” Tyler mused. “Or do you think it’s like, it kills you, clones you, and puts the clone somewhere else?” Tyler never was very good with silences.
“How would the clone have your memoirs? Britney asked. She was humoring him. Trying to keep the peace by giving him someone to geek-splain to.
“Your memories and stuff are just little wrinkles on your brain. If it constructs you atom by atom, same wrinkles, same mem-”
“Sweetheart,” Christy cut him off. “I have to pee.”
“Got it.” Tyler gulped. “Looking.”
Drew’s eyes honed in on an exit sign. Lodging! “Found one!” He slammed on the accelerator so hard he could almost smell the burning rubber. They took the exit and a sharp right turn into an empty motel lot.
Drew threw the car into park and exhaled. He really was tired. He’d really thought he could make it eighteen hours on the road and had crapped out at just around fifteen. Dang it sucked getting old.
“Are we sure it’s open?” Britney asked. “I don’t see any other cars. And the lights are all out.
“They better be,” Christy said, “Or I’m pissing behind the dumpster!”
“I’ll go check,” Drew said. There was a front area with a large glass window. It was also the only place that had a working overhead light. That was most likely where he was going to get a key, if this place wasn’t abandoned. He opened up the door and stepped out, leaving the keys in the ignition. “Be back in a second.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Tyler called back.
Drew flashed a thumbs up but kept walking.
The glass was heavily tinted and unnecessarily wide. It reminded Drew of a drive through bank teller window, without the pneumatic tubes. The little red button connected to a speaker, added to the parallels. He pushed the button.
BZZZZZT!
“Hello?” A gravelly, static crackling voice called back over the speaker. “What do you want?”
Drew felt himself tense up. Wasn’t it obvious? He probably just woke a night clerk up or something. “Yeah. I’m looking to get a room for the night.”
“How many?”
“Four,” Drew said. He held up his fingers, incase his voice wasn’t coming across the intercom clearly.
“Rooms? Four rooms?” The unseen clerk asked.
“No, no, no.” Drew shook his head. “Four people.”
“How old?”
That was a weird question. “No kids. Just adults.”
There was a pause of about thirty seconds. Then Drew heard the squealing squeaking of metal. He looked down and flap had opened up beneath the window, like a mailbox. In it was a single motel key. “Okay. Here you go.”
Drew didn’t reach in. “Um…what about money?”
“Money?” The drawer closed. “Yes. Card please.”
“How much?” Drew asked, reaching for his wallet.
“Five…?”
“Five hundred?” Drew gasped. This dump wasn’t worth five hundred bucks a night.
“No. Not five hundred. One hundred…and five. Sorry. Bad transmission. The drawer squeaked open again. “Pay here.”
Drew took out his credit card and dropped it in. “Do you want my I.D. or anything?”
“No,” the voice crackled back. A second later, the drawer creaked open again, now with the key. “Here’s your key.”
Drew was puzzled. What was going on with this asshole? “What about my card?”
The drawer closed and opened yet again. “Okay. Here’s the key and card.”
Drew reached in and grabbed both. “You ran it? The card?”
“Ran? Yes.”
“Do you need me to sign anything?”
“No. You’re fine. Now go to bed. Room 1.”
Had he been ten years younger, Drew might have raised a bigger stink about the man behind the glass’s tone. As things stood, he was tired, and just wanted to sleep. He didn’t care. Asshole might be the only person running the joint. As this wasn’t a Waffle House, and Drew didn’t want to get shot from behind tinted glass, he took the key, shut his mouth and went back to the car.
“Room?” Britney asked.
“Yup,” Drew said. “Got one.”
“How big?” Tyler asked.
“I told the guy there were four of us. This is what he gave me.” Drew pulled around in the empty parking lot in front of the first room.
“But is it like, two beds?” Tyler asked.
Drew shrugged. “Probably.” Most motels had a standard two queens. He cut the engine and got back out.
Christy stopped fidgeting, and grinned big and toothy like a horse. “It’s gonna happen...”
Tyler smacked his forehead. “Stop saying that!” He whined. He got out of the front seat and opened the door for his wife.
“What?” Christy giggled. Suddenly able to ignore her bladder. “It’s gonna happen.”
“Christy,” Britney moaned, exhausted. “It’s not going to happen. Just give it up.”
“No,” Christy said. “One day we’re all just gonna get naked in front of each other. It’s going to happen. I don’t even mean sex or anything. We’re just all gonna be nuuuuude.” This prediction had leapt out of Christy’s mouth on her twenty-first birthday, and she’d never let it go. Drew had his odd duck sense of humor. Christy had hers.
“Yeah,” Drew said. “Maybe. Not tonight though. Come on. Let’s sleep.”
Christy trotted up to the door, resuming her potty dance. “First pee. Then sleep.”
Britney followed behind him. “You know, it doesn’t have to be that order…” she teased.
“Ew, no!” Christy was also something of a germaphobe. “Gross.”
Britney pressed her attack. “Just saying. Babies do it all the time. Very efficient. Maybe we’re doing it wrong.”
Christy shook her head. “Just let me pee!”
Tyler brought up the rear. “Dibs on the best one,” he called. “Whichever one that is that I decide.” It was meant to be a joke…not all jokes landed. Most of Tyler’s didn’t.
Gathered on the stoop of the motel room, Drew inserted the key into the lock turned it, and pushed open the door.
Like an atomic bomb, a flash of light engulfed the quartet, and with it a strange moistureless cold, like the vacuum of space ran over their skin. It lasted for less than as second but it was the kind of chill that lingered after.
“FUCK!” Drew cursed, rubbing his eyes. The hell was that? Some kind of motion sensor connected to a couple of high beams? “JESUS!”
More than just the light had changed. It was hotter all of a sudden. Brighter. It felt like the sun was on their skin. Birds chirped and squirrels chittered. Sounds of car engines humming and horns honking signaled in the periphery, as did lawnmowers. The smell of grass filled their nostrils.
It was daylight, and they were outside.
“The fuck was that?” Tyler spoke up after much groaning and grunting. “Why is it daylight?”
“Guys?” Britney said.
Drew blinked away the fuzziness. More than the time was wrong. There were rows of houses and picket fences. They’d gone from a roadside motel next to the highway into the middle of suburbia. “Where are we?” Drew thought asking out loud might get him an answer. It didn’t make any sense. There was no rational explanation.
“Did we get teleported?” Tyler asked. “Am I a clone?”
“Not funny dude.”
“Sorry.
“Guys?” Britney said again.
“What?” Drew asked, trying to hold onto his calm. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“Why is everything so big?”
Britney cut to the heart of the matter. There were houses and front porches, and lawns with gnomes, but they all seemed much, much bigger than they should. Drew took a couple steps forward, to see if it was a trick of the light or forced perspective. Chain link could have been closer to rock climbing walls at the gym. The empty street was a gray asphalt river. The houses all seemed like they were only one story, structure wise, but everyone was still unconsciously craning their necks.
Ten steps forward, and ten steps back, and the eerily pleasant neighborhood seemed no less huge.
“Is it big?” Tyler wondered. He jogged up to a bush that went up to just above his head. “Or did we shrink?” He looked at his clothes and his hands, as if that would help anything.
“Help!” Christi squeaked. The other three whirled around. Christi was standing in the exact spot she’d found herself in after Drew opened the door. Everyone else had paced or moved or turned around and taken in the bizarre sights. Christi hadn’t, and it was evident from the puddle at her feet. “I…I peed!”
Comments
babysofia1234
Interesting start! Hope maybe this another new longer tale since Narnia has been wrapped for a while? Someone won't be keeping her big girl pants, but I'm sure none of them will long!
Ohhhh! Possibly another diaper dimension story? And yet, you titled this "Ersatz"...What are we substituting for what, I wonder? 🤭
