Remember Me.

I sat behind the wheel, keeping my eyes on the road. I shivered, silently wishing that the heater worked. The air outside was dead and cold. The only sounds I heard were the sounds of rain padding on the windshield, and the dull hum of the wipers as they swished back and forth against the glass. I cursed myself for being in this predicament. I could have waited, but no. I had to be the impatient one, and drive myself back home.

I was flying from London. The plane I was on landed at a small airport in the middle of nowhere. I came out of the terminal, and saw that the next flight I was due to get on was delayed because of the weather. I had to be in LA in forty-eight hours in order to make it to a meeting with the record label and tour managers so we could plan the next tour. Then a thought came to mind. I would rent a car from the airport and drive there. It wasn’t too far, I reasoned. I grabbed my bags from luggage claim and made my way to the rental kiosk. The lady behind the counter gave me a fake smile and told me that the only car they had was an old Buick Park Avenue. I took it. I juggled my duffel bag and guitar case in my arms as I followed her outside to get it.

The car was a dull gold color and the paint was peeling off. I didn’t care. I just wanted to get on the road. I put my things in the trunk and accepted the keys from the lady and clambered inside. The inside of the car had a musky smell and a lingering scent of cigarettes. The vinyl on the bench seat in the front was torn and peeling. I slid in and closed the door, shielding myself from the rain. I started the car and backed out of the parking space. I used my phone’s map application to navigate.

The further down the road I went, the more I regretted my decision. My phone was now dead, and the lady at the airport told me that the lighter port in on the dash board didn’t work. I thought that my phone’s battery would live long enough just so I could get to the interstate. The airport was located in a small clearing about eighty miles away from it, and driving through it was a nightmare, to say the least.

A deer stepped out in the road, and I swerved, slamming my hand on the horn. The deer bolted and made its way back to the woods. I stopped the car and got out, checking the car for any damages. The front tire was blown. Great, I thought. I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with no phone and no possible way to get a hold of anyone.

Then an idea hit me. I had passed a small house a mile or so back. I would walk up there, and ask to use the phone. I grabbed my bag and phone out of the car, leaving my guitar in the trunk. I locked the car and started walking up the road. The rain was coming down pretty hard, and I was already drenched. I shivered, regretting the fact that I had left my heavier coat at my mum’s house in London.

I was full of bad decisions today.

I finally made it to the house. I half jogged up to the door, and knocked swiftly. I rubbed my hands together and blew into them in an attempt to bring feeling back to them. The door opened and before me stood a short, skinny girl with dark hair and glasses. A light came on as she stepped out of the house, tying a robe around her waist.

“Yes, can I help you?” she asked. I smiled. She was British too.

“Hi, um… yeah, see, my car broke down a mile up the road,” I pointed in the direction I had come from. “And my phone is dead, and I have no bloody idea where I am… and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call for a mechanic?” I said.

“You won’t be able to get a hold of anyone until morning. It’s a quarter after one. But, you can come in for a bit. Get yourself out of the cold?” she replied.

“You’re too kind,” I said stepping inside after her. The girl closed the door and took my jacket as I took it off. Her house was warm and welcoming. The living room was small and cozy. There were two couches against the wall and a coffee table rested in front of them. There was a small TV set on a stand in front of them, against another wall.

“I’m Jaclyn, though most people call me ‘Jackie,” she said.

I laughed.

“What?” she asked, setting my jacket on a counter in the kitchen.

“Nothing, it’s just that my name is Jacky, as well.” I replied with a chuckle.

“Well then… in that case, you can call me by my middle name. It’s Ashley.” Jackie said.

“Alright… then, Ashley, may I use your shower?” I asked. “On second thought, I’ll just call you ‘Jackie’,” I added.

“You’re choice… Anyway, yeah. You can use my shower; it’s down the hall, first door on your right. You can’t miss it, it’s the room with the toilet in it.” She said, pointing down the hall.

“Thanks,” I grabbed some dry clothes out of my bag and went to the bathroom. I stripped down and turned the hot water on full blast. I stepped in and washed quickly. I got out and changed into my dry clothes. I walked back into the living room, carrying my wet clothes in my hands.

Jackie took them from me and went into another room. I heard the sounds of a washing machine start up as she walked back in.

“Thank you, again.” I said, smiling. Jackie sat on the couch and turned the TV on.

“It’s not a problem. You can crash on my other couch, if you want.” She said, indicating to the other sofa.

I walked over and sat down. I watched Jackie as she began flipping through the channels. She was very pretty. She had deep blue eyes behind her black thick rimmed glasses. Her skin was pale, and I could see a scar going into her hair line, just behind her ear. Her hair was pulled into a messy pony tail, with her bangs falling into her eyes. Under her robe, I could see the straps of a black tank top and her feet were covered with fuzzy black socks.

There was something familiar about her. I had this strange feeling that I knew her in some lifetime. I shook my head and sat back, pushing the thought from my mind. What were the chances of me running into someone I knew in a country I didn’t grow up in, and in the middle of nowhere? Absolutely nil, that’s what the chances were.

I was certain that I would remember someone like her, no matter what the circumstances were.

“So, Jacky, where were you heading?” Jackie asked me.

“Oh, um… to LA,” I replied, shocked that she had said anything at all, and praying that she hadn’t caught me staring at her. “My flight was delayed because of the weather, and I need to get back in a few days.”

“Sweetie, you’re in Ashland, Oregon.” She said, with an amused look. “You’re looking at a twelve hour drive.”

“Fuck… and it’ll take bloody fucking forever to get service, right?” I sighed.

“That is correct, my dear.” Jackie said.

“And the rental car doesn’t have heat.” I said.

“Oh my,” she said. “What if I drove you?”

I shook my head. “No, that would be absurd. You have your own life; you don’t need to waste time on getting a stranger back home.” I said.

Jackie waved her hand. “I insist! It could be fun, and it’s not like I have anything to do… I’m bloody bored out here!”

I took a moment to ponder her offer. It wouldn’t hurt, and I wouldn’t be alone… slowly, I nodded.

“Alright… but I need to get my guitar from the rental.” I said slowly.

Jackie stood up. “Alright then, let’s go get it, and I’ll call a tow truck to haul it back to the airport.” She said. I stood up and followed her to the door. We clambered into her car and I instructed her where to go to get to the rental. I retrieved my guitar and we went back to her house. Once inside, Jackie brought out an extra blanket and pillow and put them on the couch. Then, she settled herself on the other couch.

“I don’t have a bed, so I usually crash out here.” She explained.

I got myself situated under the covers and rolled over, away from the view of the living room. I fell asleep as soon as I shut my eyes.