Prom Night in Purgatory(75)

Johnny still had the radio tuned into the oldies station. A song Maggie faintly knew trickled out of the slightly tinny speakers and into the car. Maggie's smile broadened and her feet jived a little in time with the rhythm. She had heard this song somewhere before, but she couldn't place it. ”And we’ll be rocking and a’reelin...”

Lights flashed from behind her closed lids, and Maggie blinked in surprise. Johnny couldn’t be back already.

The lights slid past the Caddie, and Maggie's view was suddenly obscured by the people that were sitting on the hood of Irene’s car. She screeched and jerked upright, her eyes swinging wildly to the right. A mint green car, similar to Irene's in year and make, was parked next to her. Another pair of lights slid past and then another. A black truck with rounded edges and ancient curves jerked to a stop to the left of Irene's Cadillac, and Maggie cried out and then bit back the sound when the driver of the truck tossed a startled look her way. The driver's side window was down. The song that had been on the radio was now inside and outside of the car, as if the vehicles surrounding her were tuned into the same station.

“That’s Chuck Berry, folks...” An announcer’s voice bounced glibly over the tail end of the song, reading a commercial for Crest toothpaste: “Look Ma, no cavities!” Nobody on the radio spoke that way anymore. Maggie groaned in growing horror. How had this happened? She was in the car! This wasn’t possible! Maggie’s ever-accommodating brain supplied an answer almost immediately. She was wearing clothing from the 1950’s, listening to oldies in a car that had been in her family for decades. She groaned again and slammed her hand against the dash in frustration.

She wasn’t wearing her Saint Christopher medal. It hadn’t gone with her dress. She cursed herself and fumbled for her phone desperately, hoping for something to pull her back to the present. It was gone. Her purse, which had been sitting on the seat beside her only moments before, had disappeared as well. She had pulled her right foot from her shoe when she’d climbed into the car. The shoes were new, and she’d formed a small blister on her little toe while dancing. Her right shoe was missing. She looked down at her left foot, still wearing the high red heel and then at her bare right one and back out at the crowd that was forming beyond the car. Trying not to panic, she turned the radio off and rolled down her window a few inches, hoping to ascertain where -- and when -- she was.

“He’s here!” a girl squealed, and the voices beyond the Caddie’s windows rose and fell in excitement.

“Kinross is here!” The shout went out across the parking lot.

“Paula, don’t say anything!” It was Irene’s voice. She and her friends must be the girls sitting on the hood of the car.

“Yeah, Paula!” someone chimed in. Was that Shirley or Cathy? Maggie knew she had heard that voice before. “You always spill the beans!”

“Roger is up to something!” Irene said in a low, firm voice, and her friends quieted down. “He wants us to send Johnny inside the school, but don’t any of you do it!! Do you hear me?”

“But Irene!” Paula wailed. “He’ll be mad! He is still your guy, isn’t he?”

Irene didn’t respond. Maggie began to shake. She knew where she was. Oh, heaven help her! She knew where she was.

***





2011


The truck full of drums, speakers, lights, and equipment rumbled to a stop at the blinking red light. Johnny shifted his weight, trying to keep the cymbal from dinging him in the head. He had a bad feeling and wished he’d never agreed to leave Maggie behind, even for ten minutes. And he’d left her at that God-forsaken school. Just looking at the burnt out remains made him break out in a cold sweat.

Johnny felt sick and head-achy, and if he didn’t get out of the bouncing truck soon he was going to be sick all over the equipment. This was not the way he had envisioned the night ending. He needed to get back to Maggie.

Jody Evans called out to him through her open window, verifying the directions to Jillian’s. She was perched on her boyfriend’s lap, her head almost touching the roof of the overcrowded cab. The light turned green, and Johnny tried to answer, but his throat was suddenly so tight he couldn’t breathe.

“Johnny?” Jody peered through the back window, craning her head this way and that.

“Who are you talking to, Jody?” Her boyfriend laughed.

“Yeah, Jod. Most guys don’t like it when their girls call them by the wrong name,” the lead singer drawled.

“What did I call you?” Jody laughed, addressing her boyfriend.

“You called him Johnny,” the drummer teased. “His name is Jeremie. And mine’s Craig....in case you’re thinking about replacing Jeremie.”

“Shut it, Craig,” Jeremie threatened cheerfully.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Jer. I was just thinking we needed to....to...” Jody’s voice broke off, and a puzzled look marked her pretty features. “Weird. I just totally forgot what I was going to say. And I feel like it was important. It’s almost like Deja vu...or something.”

Something crashed in the bed of the truck, Craig swore, and then Trey, the lead singer, threatened randomly, “Whoever didn’t tie down that cymbal is going to buy it if it’s busted.” He slowed to a stop at the side of the road, and he and Craig spilled out of the driver’s side door.