I was driving toward St. Beaumont to handle a client's case; we had a hearing on Monday, around ten in the morning, so I left home early on Sunday. It was common, sometimes, to have to make this kind of trip, but not enough for me to get used to it. The sun gleamed on my car's hood, and my wife was riding with me; she complained, and how she complained. After all, it would be a long trip, about six hours, and she didn't usually come along.
"Love, I need to pee," she said, with a shy tone in her voice.
"Relax, sweetheart. In about four kilometers there's a little shop."
"Love, you said that about thirty minutes ago!" she shot back, now indignant.
"But, sweetheart, it's been half an hour since we left Kleinsburg."
"Exactly! And it's been half an hour that I've been bursting!"
I moved my hand and turned up the radio to muffle her complaints. Not that I didn't understand them, after all she really had to go, but what would it have cost her to use the bathroom before leaving home?
Indignant, she stretched out her arm and abruptly turned off the radio.
"You're not going to listen to this crap either!" she snapped, furious.
I felt the air filling my lungs deeply.
"…and now I've got a fantastic bombshell for you, my dear listeners!" the announcer's voice echoed, far too excited for that hour. "Sound the drums!"
"Thud-dum-dum, thud-dum-dum, thud-dum-dum!" the radio mimicked a percussive beat.
"The dream couple has split up! That's right, Alice and Jennifer broke up after the scandal on the filming set…"
"God, nothing but nonsense," I muttered, turning off the radio again.
"Hahaha, oh no, love!" I started laughing at her.
At that very moment, a fine drizzle began to fall, and moments after the joke we reached a fork in the road.
"So… love, do you know which road I take?" I asked her, feeling a touch of doubt.
"No, love. But don't you know? Haven't you traveled to Beaumont other times?" she asked, puzzled by my question.
"Yes, sweetheart, but… I don't remember this fork," I replied, trying to rummage through my memory. My mind, however, felt vague, strangely vague…
"Let's go right, then, duh," she suggested, as if it were obvious.
"Why the right?"
"Simple: God hates left-handed people, so we're going right."
The farther I drove down the road, the more the forest closed in around us, and the drizzle turned into a heavy rain. I was still stuck on the fact that I didn't remember that fork, and a faint chill crept up my spine. My wife had fallen asleep again, so I decided to turn the radio back on for company.
"…and now, the result of the Sullivan game…"
I felt an immediate strangeness, as if the place were pulling me forward, despite the growing discomfort. The establishment had a small parking lot, occupied by only a few cars covered in mud and rain.
I woke my wife and decided to go in. I needed information, and she desperately needed the bathroom.
I parked the car in the second space, right next to the front door.
"It feels good to stretch your legs," I commented to my wife, feeling the weight of the trip on my shoulders.
"Let's hurry, I'm almost peeing my pants!" she blurted, ignoring my tiredness.
She jumped out of the car and hurried into the convenience store. The bell above the entrance rang, letting out a metallic, shrill sound. At the counter beside the door stood a middle-aged man, wearing the clothes of a typical local shopkeeper.
"Welcome," his voice sounded strangely calm and serene.
But a chill ran swiftly down my spine. Before I could process the greeting, a putrid smell filled my nostrils, heavy and dense.
"Don't mind the smell, dear customer," the man said, without my needing to open my mouth. "One of our freezers in the back broke down recently, and we're waiting for the call to be answered."
"Here. In case someone reports the establishment and you need a lawyer…" It was an automatic gesture.
"Thank you, sir," he replied, without even looking at the paper.
"It's nothing… it must be the road, it's made me tired," I said, and the instant the words left my mouth, the tension simply evaporated.
The chill vanished. I was feeling fine, as usual, as if the scream and the smell had never existed.
"That road really is tiring," the man agreed, with a strange gleam in his eyes. "I recommend eating a steak before continuing the trip."
"It's just that we have a supplier of very fresh meat," the man replied, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Oh, I see."
I was cheerful and full. I paid the shopkeeper and left the store. The day, to my surprise, was sunny again, with no sign of the storm from minutes earlier. I got into my car and, in about five minutes, arrived in Beaumont.
For some reason, since that day I feel that I lost something important.