A CIGARETTE

A Tale of the Hatchback Woman by Dan Jire

Mark Steinberg gagged and puffed.

“These are crap,” he said, and chucked the cigarette from the car window. Lauren watched it in the side mirror. It landed just before the grass, and then burst into little embers for less than a second—no forest fires started.

“You should quit.”

Mark never liked Lauren’s suggestions. He twitched every time she said something.

He’ll die next time he says something I don’t like.

Until then, Mark Steinberg was her partner. Not romantically, never romantically.

“This is a complete waste of time.” Mark reached for another cigarette and remembered the last one, grabbed his coffee instead. It was too hot and he cursed it before taking another searing sip.

“We can keep sitting here if you want, but I agree with you,” Lauren said. “She’s probably not in the house anymore—if she ever was. I think it’s bad intel.”

“It’s crappy intel is what it is. Sangster and Tuel always jump to conclusions from who knows where.” He itched for another cigarette then looked at Lauren Pace’s breasts. She quickly reached for the steering wheel to block his view. That disappointed him and he shifted in his seat like a pouting child.

“You ever think you’re on the wrong side of this?” he asked as he stretched his legs as much as the car would allow.

“You ever think you only like girls because you’re supposed to?”

Mark glared at Lauren like she’d actually stepped on his balls.

“What the shit is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve never questioned which side I’m supposed to be on. This is the side I want to be on.”

“A patriot.” He smirked. “Look it, both sides want the same thing. You’ve got the Faithful Followers. All they want is proof that makes their faith legit. If they find the Hatchback Woman then they’ll know if she’s an angel or the Devil, you know. Us, we’re convinced she’s evil and just want her to stop her games. What if we get her and she explains all these objects are meant for good, now we’re on the Follower’s side?”

“We’d have to believe her first,” Lauren said into the rearview mirror. She didn’t like the way she looked that day. She could tell she was stressed out. Too much could go wrong.

“I mean look it. She knows both sides exist. She probably has an object that tells her who’s on her side who is not, right? Anything is possible with this bitch. I mean look at what happened to your last partner, what was it she did to him?”

Lauren’s lips parted, but she shut her eyes and looked away. She didn’t want to talk about her last partner. She had told Mark that many times before.

“You shouldn’t pout those lips of yours like that. You’re gonna get wrinkles one day. Right now, at least the Ice Queen theme you got going on is kind of hot. Grew up with the bad habit of eating ice. I have a new cavity like every time I go to the dentist now. Fill ‘em all in, I tell the dentist.”

Lauren burned a look through him hoping to make a point. “I’m telling you, these knuckles of mine can break your teeth.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Just being playful, our tension is so thick.” He motions through the air like he has a knife trying to cut it. “Probably should get my chainsaw. Hey, you think she’s got a chainsaw for one of her objects?”

Lauren delivered no response. She was skilled at turning men down without even batting an eyelash.

“Start the engine, let’s get out of here. I know she’s not in that house,” Mark said. “She’s never where we want her to be. That shit car of hers gets around.”

Lauren was pretty certain as well, but still questioned him abandoning a good lead.

Mark shook his head at that. “Look, I’ve got a guy. We run and see what he knows.”

“I bet you’ve got a guy.”

Mark practically jumped out of his seat he twitched so hard.

“How bout I prove to you I’m straight as a freaking arrow.”

“Even arrows get bent.”

Lauren chuckled and started the engine. She made sure to rip out of their parking spot so fast his head bounced off the headrest and parlayed her message of shut-the-hell-up.

They drove toward the outskirts of Carytown, then towards the river, which they crossed via the Huguenot Bridge. Lauren was trying to remember the directions since she knew she would probably have to go this way again on her own. It was only a matter of time. Mark’s source could be important if he was legit.

Lauren had never heard of him before.

Sources were all over in Richmond, but most were jerks that had heard the story of the Hatchback Woman and treated it like an urban legend, like a campfire tale. They’d get excited about it, and wore the idea of meeting her like it was the latest fashion. They put on all the theatrics talking about how they actually spoke to her, or it was their cousin’s cousin. The misinformation was growing rampant as more incidents were occurring.

A lot more.

Seemed like almost every day there was another story. Everybody and their mother seemed to have one. When people would say they destroyed the object that’s how Lauren knew they were lying.

You can’t destroy an object the Hatchback Woman gives you.

As soon as they crossed over the bridge, they twisted around down toward a road running by the river, aptly named River Road. They headed east along the river and came to a park Lauren had heard about but had never been too. Plenty of cars lined the parking lot, some coming, some going, plenty of kayaks and canoes.

“Let’s hope he’s home. Park,” Mark said.

Lauren decided to play nice.

As soon as she pulled into a parking space, she noticed Mark was smiling. He pointed through the windshield at an old Volvo station wagon.

“He’s here. Knew it.”

They got out and approached the Volvo station wagon. It was eerily similar to the Hatchback Woman’s mode of transport. As in it was pretty full of things, like the owner was forced to use it for more than just a mode of transport. However, unlike the red hatchback the woman drove, this Volvo was not made up of seemingly everyday objects, it was made up more of notebooks and files and some blinking lights from what looked like a wireless router. There was even a strange antenna atop the roof.

“We lucked out that he’s here today. This guy is brilliant, but not as good looking as me.”

“Your source? Your brilliant source lives in his car.”

“He likes it. Says it helps him think like her.”

“Knock, knock.” Mark said, rapping his hand on the passenger side window. A bearded, waifish man arose out of thin air. He shrugged off a dream he wished he was still having and slowly recognized Mark. His eyes widened until he caught Lauren standing behind Mark and those eyelids of his began to squint with a look of wonder and concern.

“Mr. Steinberg.” The bearded man asked, “Who’s the lady?”

Mark smiled. “New partner.”

“Thought you worked alone,” The man said. Lauren noticed his hand was firmly placed over the door lock as if he didn’t trust either of them.

“When she’s available you don’t work alone, get me?” Mark winked and with a slight move of his hand he showcased Lauren’s ‘assets.’

“What can I help you with?”

“Maybe an update on her most recent sightings. We were on stakeout. Shit intel had us sitting uselessly for hours.”

The man shook his head and rolled his eyes. “She’ll be where she wants to be when she needs to be. When are you Stalkers going to figure that out? You’re just going to have to get lucky like the rest of us.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like she appears out of thin air. Where was she last seen?”

Lauren sighed and drew both pairs of eyes.

“Sorry, he says she can’t be found, but he spends all his time tracking her? What good is your work if you know you can’t find where she is?”

The man in the Volvo cleared his throat. “You are mistaken. I’m not trying to find the Lady. There is a method to her madness and I am determined to figure it out. Plain and simple. Nothing she does is coincidence. Have you not seen that yet?”

The man turned in his car, flipped open a laptop and entered a password Lauren tried her best to catch.

“Let’s see,” he said, as he typed a little and pulled up a map and a spreadsheet. “Last sighting. Leaving the Fan, heading northwest on Staples Mill, probably towards Parham. “

“That’s where we were.” Lauren grunted.

“Shit intel.”

“Supposedly not. If your source is who you say he is, then it just means she doesn’t want to be found, right? So maybe we should call it a day.”

“Like I said, you all need some luck if you’re going to catch her. She’s not just a pinball bouncing around. You figure out what she wants and it’ll all make sense.” The man closed his laptop. “Now if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of a much-needed nap.”

“We should head back anyway,” Lauren said.

The man agreed from behind clenched eyes. “Do that.”

He faded into his habitat.

Mark stood defiantly for a minute then without informing Lauren he stepped to the driver side of their car.

“I want to drive,” he said.

“Not a chance.” Lauren had a specific reason for not letting him drive. Her surprise almost gave it away. “If you don’t like my driving find a new partner, plus you can’t stare at my breasts while you drive.”

It was the first time Lauren said something that made him smile. It would probably be the last.

Lauren gunned the car back to the Huguenot Bridge. She almost had to run over a cyclist, but thought better of it. There was no reason to hurry.

“Interesting that he had the same intel as our guys.”

“Guy is obsessed, retired professor, real smart. He’s an independent, an observer. He’s obsessed with stories about her, lost a friend to one of her treats. Got some tales that will turn your shit white. I think he plans on publishing a book or something.”

“He’s not one of us.”

Mark laughed. “Maybe that’s why I trust him. Damn it, I wish you smoked, I need a cigarette.”

“I thought you had a pack.”

“They taste like shit and my mouth is dry as hell, stop at that pharmacy I need a drink.”

Lauren sped up instead.

“Come on!” he moaned.

“Deal with it. You should’ve driven if you wanted to take all these field trips.”

“Woman, you and I are going to dance.”

He coughed. Hard.

Then he couldn’t stop.

Finally, Lauren sighed, as awful as it was to listen to, it was better than hearing his attempts at wit and innuendo. She wondered if they’d bother pairing her up with another partner, or if this time they’d get suspicious enough. Would the Stalkers realize what Mark surely had just discovered?

“You did this. You. You’re on her side, you bitch!” Mark tried to spit but the poison had turned his mouth as dry as the Gobi. He should’ve chosen his words wiser. He wouldn’t have many more. His face turned red as he realized Lauren Pace had poisoned him. He was not dumb enough to overlook the foul cigarette he tried to smoke earlier. He just wondered how and when she slipped the poison into his cigarette.

Before his last breath, Lauren wanted to make sure she said one more thing he was sure to hate, for old time’s sake.

“You see, I can make objects magical too.”

THE END.