Sloane
By J. L. Young
August Seventh, 1965: Everett Jay Sloane 25 and Verna Faye Cobb 24 were out on a date. Witnesses last saw them leaving a small gathering after a drive-in double feature had been rained out. During an investigation, friends of the couple reported they were easy-going. Cobb had insisted Sloane take her for a ride after the storm passed. The friends also reported Cobb’s penchant for wandering.
August tenth: Sloane’s 1963 Chevrolet Corvette was found on the side of the road outside The Fleabag Hotel off Route Forty-one. From an initial inspection, Franklin County Sheriff Deputy Clifford Nacey found the vehicle to be in operational condition. The vehicle has since been removed. After a six-month search, the trail went cold.
A man awoke to find himself surrounded by trees. His muscles were stiff. As he stood, the man looked around. Dizziness took hold and dissipated. He realized the sun is high in the sky. He looked down at his Oris watch. It wasn’t working. He held it to his ear to confirm.
The man, curious about where he was, studied the trees that surrounded him. Moss on the trees wanting to hide in the shade gave him his direction. He came to the treeline to find a superhighway with strange-looking cars zooming past him at great speeds. A sign close to him, a white shield on a black background, forty-one.
He walked along the highway and found a gas station, however it was no gas station he’d ever seen. He opened the entrance. There were several people inside. His eyes settled on a black man in strange clothes pouring coffee into a cup. He watched the man step up to the counter and purchase his coffee. The small, white woman rang up the purchase and the black man paid with a plastic card. She charged him $3.24.
The wanderer stepped up to the counter as the other man left. “$3.24 for a cup of coffee? What kind of place is this?”
She looked confused for a moment and replied, “Gas N’ Shop. Is there something wrong?”
“You just served that man. He didn’t pay.”
“That’s what we do. And he paid with a debit card.”
“What’s a debit card?”
“It’s like a credit card but….” As she explained, he looked down at a newspaper. He took the paper in hand and stared at the date. “Are you ok, Sir?”
“2022?”
“Yeah.”
He felt sick to his stomach. “I think I need to talk to someone, but I don’t know who.”