On the Road to the Desert Shack

We were in line outside an old fashioned shack. A vendor's shack in the middle of the desert, but near enough to a lake of sorts to produce dots of lone desert vegetation.

It was one of those road side attractions on the way to Vegas, all wood and crumbling white plaster. Old crates piles outside haphazardly setting the tone and much of the expectation for the inside.

The curiosity of this curiosity was that so many people would appear to want to see the inside that any line would form at all. That's what drew in me and my friends, not what wasn't written any more on the old paint peeled sign at the turning. I did notice that each set of people took quite a while to go through as we slowly marched forwards.

We had come out for the weekend, to have some fun in the city. Stopping for a break was part of the ritual of driving in America, where states would go by as quickly as the tension in the legs would build. You needed to stop and what's better than stopping at some gimmick.

I was starting to snooze in the sun, the line, and my wide brim hat. My work was dull back home and I'd perfected light speed dreaming, an effective way to while away the days with adventures my boss couldn't imagine, let alone see.

Finally! We made the front of the line, my friends stopped their chatting and we peered at the red tatty curtain, the darkness beyond which was impenetrable from the daze outside.

An old man in an older fez and an sleeveless shirt charged us $10 at the entrance as a couple exited smiling from the other door. I don't know what I expected inside, but in we went.

Inside my eyes became accustomed to the gloom and then red with rage. It was empty! That cheating red-neck! It was a bare room with the walls painted black and lit by what little light that came from the entrance and exit doors. Blocked, of course, mostly by the curtains.

Just as I was about to make a scene with the owner, I felt a twinge in my side. Then another and another. Within seconds I was on the floor in a silent pain with what felt like a whole body cramp with extra pins and needles, for when even pain isn't enough.

I didn't feel any of changes, there was too much pain all over. But after five minutes of what felt like a eternity, I got up as the pain went down and genuine feeling came back to my limbs and my voice.

I looked over at my friends who were getting themselves up from the floor with strained noises, as if they were trying to carry a heavy box. Except they weren't themselves. I hardly recognised them, if it wasn't for the continuation of their now ill fitting clothes and some vague resemblances, I wouldn't have ever connected them to themselves in any street back home.

I went into shock at that moment. The feelings from my own body were not quite right and what ever I could see of myself in the gloom didn't look right either. We stood there staring like wildlife in the headlights of our transformations, mouth wide, eyes wide, mind blown.

I came half-to before my friends and with a trembling hand and thumping heart I grabbed them and tugged them out towards the exit. We got into our car without complaining to the owner, even now I'm not sure why. And we drove on automatic on our way towards Vegas.

After an hour, or maybe it was three, we started to talk about what had happened. Our voices as different as they were, decided that Vegas was not a good place. Too many lights, too crowded, too weird now. I wanted to go back to the shack, my friends wanted to go home. Either way, we turned the car around and drove with white knuckles and strained conversation.

We passed by the lake, the shack wasn't there. I made a sound like a laugh, but it wasn't funny and I felt a stab mental pain. The reality we'd gotten ourselves into hit my thoughts like the breakup of a long relationship, with all the fleeting-big thoughts of moving boxes and cold difficult strategy working into one big haze of stress and grief.

We didn't even stop the car there, such was our disbelief. We continued back home almost mute and I guess, we got here just a while ago. Do you believe us? We haven't always been like this! You used to know me, I swear it!