Nowhere, AZ

"Didn't I tell you to fill up before we left Vegas?" scolded Babs. She brushed her salon-colored, blonde hair out of her face.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! You say a lot of things, most of which I ignore." Lance smiled. "Besides, I can get another fifty miles when the gauge reaches `E'. This is a `Beemer', you know." He flashed Babs his pearly white teeth.

"I don't give a shit about your gas mileage. I want you to stop at the next station so I can use the restroom and call Mummie."

"You do know the cellular won't work out here."

"I know! I'm going to use a pay phone."

"Whatever. The last sign said that `Nowhere' was three miles away."

"Where?"

"Not `where'. Nowhere. Arizona."

"Oh great! Now we're going to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere."

"Or maybe at the edge." Lance snickered.

Two minutes later, Lance stopped his shiny new, silver BMW in front of the only gas station in Nowhere, Arizona. Actually, the only building in Nowhere. It appeared deserted.

"No one's in Nowhere," remarked Lance with a smile.

"What did you expect? Do you think people would want to live in Nowhere, Arizona on purpose?"

At that moment, a hunched-over old man--sporting a white, scruffy beard and a beat-up, old cowboy hat--limped out of the building. Following close behind him, an equally old woman wearing a tacky print dress. Her gray hair wrapped in a scraggly bun, looked unwashed and stringy. The man spit a gob of chewing tobacco at the ground by Babs' feet as he approached.

"Howdy, folks. Need gas?"

"No. We're here for the ambience," quipped Babs. She made sure not to step into the small puddle of brown spit.

"Well, we got it." The old woman smiled, revealing a mouth with only half of it teeth, and the ones remaining appeared crooked and stained. The old man's teeth looked just as bad. "We don't get many folks stopping here."

"I can't understand why. Can I get some gas?" asked an impatient Lance.

"Sure, sonny," replied the old man, "as soon as I get my gloves. The gas fumes make my hands breakout."

"Where's your phone?" asked Babs.

"'Round the corner." The old woman pointed to the right side of the building.

When Babs rounded the corner, she discovered a huge pile of old car parts and building materials. Thick desert grass had grown between the discarded wreckage, making a home for a variety of vermin indigenous to the area. A path cut through the pile allowed access to the phone hanging on the building's side. She cautiously tiptoed through the refuse to reach the phone.

Hanging on the side of the building, Babs found a relic of a payphone from days gone by. With its badly faded instructions, the phone came from the time of AT&T's monopoly and real silver coins--long before Babs' birth. The cord on the hand-piece appeared frayed, with bare metal showing under the dial where the numbers and letters should be.

"What a piece of junk! I surely hope it works."

Babs picked up the hand-piece ever so carefully, as if handling a soiled baby diaper. She brought the hand-piece as close to her ear as she could without touching it, then dropped in a quarter and dialed her mother's phone number. At that moment, she noticed the old woman peering around the corner at her, smiling. Babs glared back, then heard someone on the line.

"Hello?"

"You will soon be nowhere." The man's deep voice sent a chill through Babs' body.

In spite of the momentary scare, Babs regained her composure. "I'm in Nowhere, you idiot!"

"No! You will soon be nowhere."

"You're crazy. Get off the damn line!" Babs instantly heard a dial tone. "Tell me I'll be nowhere, will you?" she mumbled. "I'll nowhere you, you . . ." The phone began ringing.

Three rings into the call, a woman answered, "Hello?"

"Mummie! It's your little Babs!"

"Hello? Is someone there?"

"It's me, Mummie!"

The man with the deep voice interrupted, "You will soon be nowhere."

"Screw you!" Babs slammed the handpiece down so hard that she tore the old payphone off the wall. Bare wires dangled from a hole in the wood. In a rage, she stormed to the front of the building. The old woman darted back from behind the corner when she saw Babs coming.

While Babs tried to call her mother, Lance watched the old man doing his best to get the gas spout into the tank. "That is premium unleaded you're putting in there, isn't it?"

"That's right." The old man continued struggling.

"Do you need some help with that? I don't want you to scratch the paint."

"Don't blow a gasket, sonny. I can handle it. I'm not as old as you think I am."

"Don't make me laugh."

"Why don't you go in and try some of our free coffee? It's Colombian."

"I guess so. I've been feeling a little tired for some reason."

"Our coffee will sure perk you up." He smiled.

Lance noticed that the old man's teeth did not seem as bad as they did a few minutes ago. "Thanks." When he turned to walk toward the building, he felt a sharp pain shoot up his spine, bringing him to his knees.

The old man rushed to Lance's aid. "Let me help you inside."

As the sharp pain subsided, a constant, dull throbbing replaced it. "I can't understand why I am having this pain. I work out all the time."

"It could be from the long drive."

Lance gave the old man an indignant look. "I doubt it. My Beemer has full lumbar adjustments in its plush, leather seats. Long drives actually make me feel more relaxed."

"Hell, I don't know, sonny. You tell me."

"I'll tell you one thing, old man. If this happened because of your negligence, I'll sue you for everything you have."

The old man--now standing straight--laughed. "If you tried suing me, you'll end up getting Nowhere . . . literally."

Lance looked at the dilapidated old building surrounded by a vast expanse of desert. "I see what you mean."

The old man helped Lance into the office and to a large easy chair in the back. The old woman, who just came in, handed him a large cup of coffee.

Babs burst through the door, her perfectly styled hair looked uncharacteristically dishevelled. "This place sucks! Is the damn tank full yet?"

"Not yet, missy," replied the old man. "I'll get on it right away." He stepped lively through the door.

Babs noticed Lance in pain. "What happened to you?"

"I don't know. All of a sudden I felt a sharp pain in my back."

"I know what you mean. I'm not feeling too good myself. It's this place. There's something about it I don't like. We'll feel better once we get back on the road." Babs looked up at the old lady. "Where's the restroom?"

"On the side." The woman pointed to the opposite end of the building from the phone.

"I surely hope it's in better shape than the phone." Babs walked out.

"Wait!" shouted the old woman. Babs turned around. "You'll need this." She tossed Babs a key attached to a large piece of wood, then smiled, revealing a mouth full of clean and straight teeth.

Babs did a double-take for a second, missing the toss. "Uh, thanks." She picked up the key and quickly headed out.

Lance slowly stood up. "I need to see if the old man has finished filling the tank."

Babs placed the key in the lock, then opened the door, half expecting to find a roach-infested hell-hole. What she saw brought a smile to her face for the first time since arriving in Nowhere. Shiny white tiles lined the walls, softly flowing into the shape of two spotless, porcelain wash basins. The tiles on the floor had an intricate Southwestern motif painted inside, giving the entire room a warm, pleasant feeling. Even the white porcelain toilets appeared squeaky-clean.

"This is more like it," Babs remarked.

While Babs admired the restroom, Lance watched the old man fill the BMW with gas. He had no trouble with the nozzle this time. The dull pain in Lance's back had migrated throughout his body, causing him to hunch over while walking. "Could you check the tire pressure for me?"

"Sure, mister." The old man bent down by the rear tire, with his back to Lance.

Babs finished using the toilet, then slowly made her way to the sink. For some reason, she couldn't move very fast. The cool water from the tap felt refreshing, flowing into her cupped hands and onto her face. After a minute of allowing the water to wash away her frustrations, she felt her way to the paper towel dispenser.

"Aren't you done with that tire, yet?" asked an impatient Lance, his voice cracking.

"I have to make sure everything is right for my . . . I mean . . . your trip."

At that instant, Lance heard a heart-stopping scream exploding from the woman's restroom. Babs came running out, water still dripping from her face.

"Look at me!" Babs hollered. "I'm old!"

Lance gasped, since Babs had indeed become much older in appearance. Her perfectly styled hair had become completely unruly and gray. Wrinkles and liver spots covered a once-smooth and soft face. Holding up her hands, she revealed that they too showed signs of aging.

"What happened to you?" Lance held out his hand to Babs.

"Look at you!" she screamed.

Lance's hands and face also showed the same signs of aging and he had grown a gray beard. "Damnit! What's going on here?"

"Nothing much," answered a young man's voice. Lance turned to find the "old man" had become young . . . and familiar looking. He no longer had a beard and his blond hair looked perfectly styled. "You see, you're taking our places here in this isolated dump."

A young woman, also with beautifully styled blonde hair, stepped out of the building. "And we'll get to finally leave and take your place." The young woman slowly moved her hands along the sides of her curvaceous body. "It's so great to be young again after all these years!"

"You have my face! And my body!" the older Babs screamed, then she began coughing.

"I do, don't I?" The new Babs smiled. "And you now have mine. It's a fair trade, don't you think? I'm glad you kept yours in such great shape. Thanks."

The older Lance, feeling shocked, turned to his younger self. "I see you now have my face."

"That's right. Shortly, I'll have your car . . . and then your life."

"You can't do that, sonny! You don't know anything about my life!"

"That's the beauty of this transformation. Your memories come with your body."

"What's going on here?"

The new Babs strolled to the car. "Twenty-five years ago, we pulled into this stinking gas station to fill up our car just like you. The old couple here wasted our time until we ended up turning into them. Now, the only way you can leave is when another young couple stops in here on purpose." She opened the passenger door of the BMW and slid in.

"Yeah," the new Lance added. "They have to pull in on their own accord. You can't block the road, forcing anyone to stop, or lure them in with signs. It won't work. Believe me, we've tried."

"We'll hitchhike out of here!" yelled the old Babs.

"You won't get very far. There's some sort of invisible wall around the property that'll keep you in. That means, you're stuck in Nowhere, Arizona, with nowhere to go. It could be for a very long time."

The new Lance sat in the driver's seat, slammed the door and started the engine. As he pulled out, he stuck his head out of the window and hollered, "Remember, you can't leave until a car with a young male and female stop for gas." The new Lance and Babs drove away, assuming the identities of the former Lance and Babs. The older couple stood hunched-over, stunned, their mouths wide open.

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Eighteen, hot, Arizona summers passed since Lance and Babs watched their lives drive away. Thousands of cars past by during that time, dozens of them even stopped, but none with the proper "young male and female" combination. That changed the day twenty-five-year-old Dale Brickstone pulled in, accompanied by his German Shepherd puppy, Sadie.

--- THE END ---