Traffic Life : Passionate Tales and Exit Strategies
Edited by Stephan Wehner
An Anthology
 
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142 Parking Structure Three The car slowed again, then stopped. 'Something is wrong,' Millie said. 'We're on level four, and there are no cars here anymore. And I remember the sign said this is only a four level structure. So how can we park on level five like it says we should?' Her voice sounded tired, defeated. Millie's hair was grey again. Her face was wrinkled leather. The light in this odd parking structure must have been playing tricks on John's eyes. Then he saw the tears on her face. A pang of guilt washed through him. 'Let me take over driving so we can make some sort of progress,' he said, getting out of the car and walking around to the driver side. As John settled into the driver's seat, and put his hands on the sweaty plastic of the steering wheel, Millie slid over. Her seat clacked as she ratcheted it down into a lower position. She groaned softly with arthritic pain. He said, 'I'm sorry I was so cranky. I'll try to do better.' As a mumbled afterthought, he added, 'I love ya.' Millie lay back on the reclined seat. 'Sorry? That's what you always say. But you never change. Everything changes around you, but you're always the exact same person.' She turned away to stare out the window. John drove round a corner marked Up. They were still on level four, they needed level five, so going up seemed logical, in fact obvious. A few minutes later, they rounded the same corner-still on level four. 'What the Hell is wrong with this structure?' John said. He raced the engine and roared the car around several bends, deliberately going the wrong way at the next corner, no matter what the sign said. A new sign said, Level six. But they needed level five, not six. How had they skipped it? He turned and shouted at Millie. 'You and your stupid psychology lecture.' Millie cringed against the far window. John looked out through the open sides of the structure, hoping to catch a glimpse of the University buildings to re- orient himself. What he saw caused him to slam on the brakes. He flung open the door, jumped out of the car and ran to the side of the empty sixth level. He grabbed at the cold concrete column as he leaned forward and looked out
  
Wes Alderson 143 over the countryside. It should have been almost sunset this July evening, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. It was somewhere behind a slate grey sky which hung low over the city of darkened buildings. There were no cars on the streets. Mounds of snow lay on the concrete sides of the parking structure. An icy wind blew snowflakes onto fluffy piles and onto his shirt. This couldn't be happening anywhere in July-especially in Los Angeles. He walked back to the car and climbed in. He stared blankly at the steering wheel, breathing hard. 'What?' asked tired old Millie. 'It's snowing. In L.A. In July. And we're on a sixth level that doesn't even exist.' Millie said, 'See what I mean about your trying to force your logic on everything?' John fists tightened on the steering wheel again. 'I'm gonna back the car right out of this damned place.' He revved the engine and craned his neck painfully out the window, backing around a turn. He screeched the car to a stop again, just in time to avoid backing over the sharp two inch spikes lying in the car's path. One Way, Do Not Enter, Severe Tire Damage, the sign said. The only possible direction to go was up. 'Those god damned engineers,' John said. He pounded his fists on the steering wheel and shouted. 'This place was built by idiots and lunatics. Isn't there any way out?' Millie said, 'Maybe it's like the entry. Maybe we have to go up first, just to get to the turning point for the down- ramp.' She looked at the snow, shivered, and turned on the car heater. She held her bony old arms around her while her teeth chattered. Some of those teeth were missing. 'Hey-that's good thinking,' John said in surprise. He threw the shift lever into forward and screeched around the corners. As they passed Level Seven, John looked over at Millie. She lay in a huddled heap. 'Millie. Millie. Wake up-are you okay?' He slammed on the brakes and reached for her. He shook her shoulder, and she flopped over onto the floor of the car, face up. It was the

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