Power Windows

Time was running out to say something. Anything. She just didn’t want to. The water reached her shoulders and a single tear formed in her eyes. She couldn’t believe this was happening. This couldn’t be happening. She was Margaret O’Malley for Christ’s sake. She was the head cheerleader, voted most popular, and just crowned prom queen a few short hours ago. It couldn’t be ending now.

She pressed her face against the roof of the car, stretching herself as far from the water as possible. Jake, her boyfriend of eight months and former captain of the football team, continued to drop below the surface, struggling with desperate lurches and splashes to force open the door, or something.

“Jake!” she shrieked. “Jake, get me out of here!” Margaret, whose friends all called her Maggie, was in a panic. She didn’t remember how they ended up here. She didn’t even know where the hell here was.

All she remembered was leaving the prom. After her cheerful goodbyes to her posse of girlfriends, she rode away with Jake. Jake was nice but she only planned to date him until fall when she would head off to Brentwood College. There she’d find her new love to cling to, some guy who oozed popularity, who could get her in touch with the ‘in’ crowd. They drove down route 62, a long and winding road light on traffic this late at night. Jake had ideas for the two of them. She knew about it. She was kind of in the mood, actually. They were heading out to Falls Bluff, one of the area’s most notorious, and most secluded, make-out spots. Jake wasn’t the best she ever had but he was worth the drive.

They drank before the prom. Everyone did. It was the only way to go as far as she was concerned. During the prom itself though, Jake went off with his football buddies a few times, probably downing a few more shots. It didn’t bother her except for the fact that he didn’t offer her any. ‘Damn bastard,’ she had said to her friends as they huddled in the restroom, ‘I can’t wait to be rid of him.’ To Maggie, Jake was a trophy and nothing more. The guy every girl wanted.

The trip from the prom to Falls Bluff was about twenty miles. At two o’clock in the morning and a bit-in-the-bag, it had seemed even longer. Maggie started doing something, but she couldn’t remember what. Her mind fogged over at some point.

She slapped the roof of the car with her palm. Water splashed her face. It was almost to her chin now. What the hell did it matter what she was doing? She was losing space and air to the rising water. Jake was still fighting with the door, or the window, or something. Why doesn’t he just roll the damn window down? she thought.

“Jake, pulee-heez!” she was crying now. There was no stopping it. This wasn’t her life! This belonged to someone else. This belonged to Sara Caufield, or Regina Matthews. Plain looking, unpopular, useless wenches. They were the ones who deserved this fate, not her.

Jake suddenly surfaced, gasping for air. “Jesus Christ, Maggie,” he said, coughing water between his words. “Jesus, I can’t get out.”

“Open the fucking window!” she yelled, slapping the roof again, her cheek mashed against its wet cloth tapestry.

Jake spat water from his mouth. The car leaned down to his side and the water was almost completely to the roof. He was struggling for air. “Pshower wiblows,” he spit.

“What?” Maggie was beyond hysterical now. She was angry and impatient. She swore she could feel the icy hand of death on her legs, carefully moving up her body, copping a quick feel.

With a blast of effort, Jake lunged closer and was able to get his head out of water enough to breathe and speak. “Power windows, Maggie. They’re power windows. You get it? There’s no power. They won’t open.”

“Oh God, Jake!” She wanted to cry but she was beyond that. So many people were going to miss her. Why did they have to drive out here? If they had just gone to a hotel room, they’d be dry and safe, and in each other’s arms under a pile of blankets. She could’ve put up with him for another year if it meant getting out of this mess. “What good are you?” she screamed at him.

The water bubbled and continued to rise. Maggie watched it overtake Jake, but before it did he told her he was going to try the door one more time.

“Goddammit, you bastard. You got me in here,” she cried, “get me out. I’m not dying in here!”

Jake had already submerged. Her breaths became short bursts and each one splashed water on her cheeks. Her face now pressed into the upper corner of the car. Water lapped at the corners of her mouth. There was no more room. No more time. She didn’t say goodbye. The last thought she could hold, even though she didn’t want to, was that he wasn’t good enough to die with her. He was only prom king because of her. Son-of-a-bitch couldn’t even get out of this damn car.

Jake wasn’t coming up again. There was no room and she wasn’t about to give her last breath up for him. But he never tried. Maggie finally started taking water into her lungs. The horror of drowning found her and she tried to fight it. She couldn’t let go, much less try to get out. Her mind couldn’t reason through it. She just couldn’t save herself.

She hacked out water and continued to cough, sucking in more and more water with each breath until finally there was no more air. Her eyes went wide and her hands grasped for anything. Any sign of hope. Her chest ached, feeling squeezed in a powerful hug. A hot, burning sensation coursed through her. Her head flailed back and forth as she looked for something. She didn’t know what she was looking for. Then she looked for Jake. What she found made her scream a wall of bubbles.



***************



Jake stood at the edge of the lake watching bubbles drift up from beneath the water’s surface. They grew smaller and more infrequent with each passing second. Water dripped from his hair and his clothes, forming a puddle around his feet. The six-foot dark haired senior watched with a blank expression as his self-centered prom date choked on her last breath.

Ten minutes later Jake knew it was over. He had one thing left to do. He dove back in the water, a flashlight in hand, and swam to the bottom of the lake where his car rested like a tomb. He shined the light through the driver’s window and saw Maggie’s bloated, dead gaze. Her shocked and frightened eyes stared through him, her face inches from the glass. A thin grin crept across his face. He couldn’t help it, and then he returned to the surface. She was right where she should be.

As he climbed out of the lake, he headed for the road. As far as anyone would be concerned, they had gone up to Falls Bluff where they had a fight. She took his car and left him there to walk home. He’d get home, crawl in bed, and wake up to hear that she was missing, along with his car. His mom would drop his tux off to be cleaned tomorrow.

It would be some time before they found her, but he knew they would. Someday she would turn up and people would say what a tragedy it was, what a damn shame. Jake would have to pretend and to smile and for those brief moments forget that Maggie O’Malley was nothing more than fingernails scraped across the blackboard of his life. He knew she’d have left him soon, but something, somewhere in the dark corners of his mind, wouldn’t wish her on anyone. Not even his worst enemies. She was Margaret O’Malley for Christ’s sake. Hell beneath a matte of blonde hair.

Jake laughed as he walked down the road, tense shivers coating his skin. He kept thinking of the last thing he said to her, and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Power windows.”