No inns, no beds no breakfasts nobody stays here.
By
Updated 6 years ago,November 2, 2018
Take the I-87 north from Queensbury, Vermont.
Then the 28 up through North Creek.
Larry Tseng
Keep going, if you want to take the route that I did.
Keep going, and youll pass right through the town that doesnt exist on any map.
My headlights probed the first of the ramshackle buildings through the smoky dusk.
Larry Tseng
This was no isolated farmhouse or wild hermit hiding from the world.
A real town, with shy street signs peaking out from tangled vines and ivy.
I slowed to a stop as an old man crawled his way across the street.
Why are you here?
Thats what I was looking at outside my window.
I dont even know where here is, I answered him.
Is there a hotel where I can get a room for the night?
The old man was turning in a slow circle.
More faces watching us.
Old men standing on the street corner, not bothering to disguise their gaping stares.
Doors opening to reveal ancient women who might as well have been the direct descendants of prunes.
Wrinkled hands wringing together, bleary eyes straining through their spectacles.
My nerves were fireworks, exploding with the undefined tension in the air.
Take me with you.
Dont leave me here.
c’mon, he begged, real tears swelling up from the sunken wells of his eyes.
I shoved him back on instinct.
I would have thought it was dementia if it werent for the heavy silence of all those eyes.
You dont know what its like!
Was this man giving you trouble?
I rapidly shook my head.
I was just asking for directions, thats all, I said.
Just stay on this road.
Itll take you right through town and youll be on your way, the policeman said.
Theres nothing else for you here, understand?
The black eyes turned away and I was able to roll my window up once more.
And a forth each wet bludgeoning thump accompanied by shrieks of agony.
The zealous baton alternated with quick, vicious kicks from the policemans steel-toed boots.
It wasnt the screams which haunted me though.
It was the cold, impassive silence from the policeman.
Not even sadistic satisfaction.
It was just another day for him, another duty.
Those black eyes turned away from the writhing form on the ground.
A second later, all the eyes from the entire town seemed to be on me.
I stomped the pedal, tearing through the stop sign.
Not fast enough to avoid hearing another gut-wrenching scream echo from behind me.
I couldnt just leave though.
Its my fault what happened.
I circled around the block, and by the time I got back the eyes had all turned away.
Curtains were drawn tight again.
I stopped the car and wasted no time in leaping out.
His decrepit frame was so emaciated that I had no trouble lifting him into the backseat.
One of his eyes fluttered open for a moment.
He had to spit blood between words.
No matter what you see, dont stop until the last house is gone.
I had no intention of staying any longer than I had to.
The first curtains were just flitting open again, but I was already back on the road.
I braced myself against the impending sound of sirens and the inevitable chase that never came.
I didnt see a single other car on the road as I glided through the eerie twilight.
The only sign of life was the regular beat of windows.
At each block, a new set would snap open with mechanical precision.
Old heads like cuckoo birds sprang out in unison.
The rhythm didnt change, block after block, but gradually the faces peering out did.
The shock forced me to slam my foot on the breaks, barely avoiding swerving off the road entirely.
The gradual decay of the town was mirrored on my companion.
Dont stop, not yet.
Words like trickling dust escaped the skull.
But I had already stopped.
The rhythm like the pounding of drums had returned.
Take us with you!
A lone shriek at first, but quickly taken up by the rest.
Dont leave us here!
The engine lamented my efforts to start the car again.
A tense rattle, then a sickening crunch like the mashing of rusted machinery.
Had it aged with my passage as well?
There was no time to stop and think.
Drumming, drumming, ferocious and wild in intensity yet retaining its unerring rhythm.
The policeman, baton in hand, gray-haired and stern and living as I had seen him last.
Still looking for directions?
he asked, a coy smile playing around the corner of his mouth.
I wanted to say so much more, but that was all the breath I had at the time.
Just passing through, are you?
His smile was growing.
I didnt like how many teeth it showed.
The drums had stopped.
The crowd had stopped.
My car started somewhere behind me in the darkness.
A flash of confusion passed the policemans face.
I liked that considerably more than the teeth.
Dont you dare -
But I was already running.
Back down the hill, back toward my car.
The uncertain crowd parted at the policemans thundering approach, but I was practically flying now.
The slam of the door behind me was the first beat in the resuming drums.
I think Ill start by asking the name of that town.
