Schicksal Turnpike

Sunday, May 13th, 1962

“She’s sick, Dean, and she isn’t getting better.” Maggie’s face was pinched with concern.

“It looks like measles.” She continued, nibbling on her lower lip and staring at little Sarah. Their daughter was asleep, her breathing rough and her skin flushed.

“But the doc gave her that new vaccine,” Dean said, running a hand over Sarah’s arm. “Jesus, she’s burning up.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Maggie said and then winced. “I’m sorry, that sounded far more like a snap than I intended it to be.”

Dean reached out and squeezed his wife’s shoulder, “You are worried about her. And if you are worried, then I think I had better be too. The wind and rain are really picking up out there, though.”

He walked over to the window. Outside the streetlights were just flickering on, but they were almost invisible, impossible to see through the driving rain and howling wind.

“I just don’t think we should wait any longer on this, Dean. She won’t eat, and I could barely get her to sip the water. The high fever is the worst part of it. If it gets much higher...” Maggie’s lips thinned in a tight line of worry.

Sarah twisted, turning her head away from them. Her blond curls were plastered to her head, her cheeks bright pink. She was drenched in sweat, her clothing damp and sticking to her skin. A swath of the ugly flat red rash had spread over her delicate pale skin all the way from her midsection down to her legs. It was now moving to her arms and neck.

“It has to be measles.” Maggie said, reading from one of her medical textbooks. “See here it says, ‘Initial signs and symptoms typically include fever, often greater than one hundred and four degrees, cough, runny nose, and inflamed eyes. Two or three days after the start of symptoms, small white spots may form inside the mouth, known as Koplik’s spots. A red, flat rash which usually starts on the face and then spreads to the rest of the body typically begins three to five days after the start of symptoms.”

She ran her hand across her daughter’s forehead. “She’s just so hot, Dean.”

Dean stared out at the rain lashing the window. He hated to drive in weather like this. And tonight of all nights, he felt the fear crawling in his heart. Nine years ago today, and here was yet another storm. He thought of Betty, he couldn’t help but compare it with Sarah being ill. There were too many reminders.

His eyes closed for a moment, remembering his family. What would it have been like, if they had survived? Would he have become a writer or just kept soldiering on, wretched and spreading his misery to the rest of them?

Danny would be a teenager now, possibly even driving. And Betty would have just begun diving into adolescence. She would have been a beauty, with her tight curls and big brown eyes. He would have had to beat the boys away with a stick!

He had visited their graves earlier in the day, when the air held the promise of rain and the wind had riffled his hair steadily. No one else visited, but Maggie wasn’t the jealous, small-minded sort. Without a word, she had picked some flowers that morning, a huge bunch of iris in a riot of colors. Maggie had tied them with a piece of ribbon and set them in a simple vase for him next to the front door to take to the grave site. He had kissed her then, her thoughtfulness filling his heart. How had he gotten so lucky?

It was something the two women had in common - both loved flowers. June had overseen the establishment of multiple flower gardens in their old house, directing their gardener and poring over seed and bulb catalogs in the winter.

Her precise, well-defined landscaping choices had helped attract a buyer and sell the property in record time when he had decided to sell the house on Grand.

Maggie didn’t have the same taste for well-manicured lawns and perfectly placed plants. Instead, her flowers were a riot of colors throughout the growing season. The yard was a jungle of plants, scattered paths, and a large green space for the children and the dog to run. Captain Nemo was feeling his age these days, and had slowed down significantly this year, the dog’s hips an obvious source of pain. Teddy, now almost twelve, still spent time walking his beloved hound each day. But he now spent more time riding his bicycle and running through the wild spaces with the other neighborhood boys.

“Dean?” He opened his eyes to see Maggie watching him, tight little lines of worry around her eyes. “Would you prefer me to drive?”

It didn’t matter what day it was. Sarah was sick. He shook his head. “I’ll drive. You get her ready and I’ll go start the car.”

Minutes later, they eased out of the driveway. The water roared down, drumming on the car, the windshield wipers trying, and failing, to keep up. The water poured from the dark skies, night had come early, the gray-black clouds blocking any remaining rays. Dean focused on the road.

They would need to head down Benton to Truman and then turn towards the south. As they eased onto Benton, several sections of the road were awash, water rushing past the car tires and the overloaded sewers.

Despite the street lights, the darkness was overwhelming. Teddy sat in the back seat, holding a cold compress to Sarah’s face, her head in his lap. Despite a gap of nearly five years, the two siblings were close. Two weeks ago, Dean had watched from his office window as Teddy stopped playing with his friends and ran over to help Sarah up after she had tripped and fallen while skating down the street. He kept an eye out for her wherever they went, conscientious and kind without fail.

Maggie looked back over her shoulder, obviously worried. “It’s okay Mom, I’ve got her.”

Maggie smiled, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“This rain, my god, it is as if the floodgates have been opened in the heavens.” Dean gritted his teeth, his eyes glued to the road. A dull red light flashed in the street. A patrol car, its red dome light flashing, blocked the wide street. A police officer, covered in a poncho, held his hand out authoritatively. “What the...damn it, they’ve closed the road!”

The next ten minutes were a series of turns onto increasingly dark roads. Every time Dean found a road leading in the direction of Hospital Hill there would be an accident or flooding. Dean kept turning and turning, hoping to find a way south. Soon there was nothing to help them keep track of which way they were headed. A tremendous explosion sounded and the street lights, along with all of the homes in view, went dark.

“A power outage. That must have been the transformer that blew.” Maggie said, peering into the darkness.

Dean’s dread at being out on this night of all nights, on unfamiliar roads, in a storm, was settling into his chest, making breathing difficult.

“I’m completely lost. Do you recognize anything?” He asked.

“No, nothing. I can’t even see in all of this. The blackout must be citywide, even downtown has gone dark.” They turned again, and the trees, swaying and bending on the side of the road, closed in around them. “Could we be on Cliff Drive?”

In the backseat, Sarah sobbed, “It hurts Mommy, and I’m so hot!”

Dean stiffened. “Oh...god.” The headlights of their car, combined with a sudden flash of light, had lit up their surroundings. He remembered this place, he remembered it far too well. His guts churned full of coldness. 

“Dean? What’s wrong?” Another burst of lightning, “The sign says Schicksal Turnpike,” Maggie said, pointing to a street sign that was being buffeted about by the wind.

Dean’s body felt as if he had just taken an ice water bath. “No, no, no...”

A brilliant flash of light illuminated the roadway before them. In the middle of the lane a young man appeared, his black robes streaming behind him, turned into the illusion of great blackbird wings in the wildness of the storm.

Maggie gasped, her eyes round with horror and shock, “Conor!”

She screamed as Dean wrenched the wheel to the right, rocketing off of the road, time measured in sound. The roar of the engine, the deafening crash, and the sound of breaking glass. Finally, there was nothing but the sound of the horn, the bark of thunder above them, and the steady stream of water from the heavens. Another strobe of lightning illuminated the car crumpled against the base of a large maple tree. Twisted steel, broken glass, and silence.