#twighlightzone

The Maps App sent us off the freeway onto the Old Pacific Highway. We turned again onto Peat’s Road, and it was then I began thinking about that episode of The Twilight Zone where the plane travels through a bright flash and back in time. The Odyssey of Flight 30, guided only by Rod Sterling’s patient yet worried voice.

We were all going to work at a place called Wyong that day, the three of us. We had met up early in Gordon and clambered into the tiny car to get on the road to be there by eleven. There is quite a journey to Wyong along the Highway. You need to pull off onto the side-streets and go over the bridge and come down on the other side. 

‘Then left onto Peat’s Road.’

Who was Peat, I quietly thought to myself as we drove. Flight 30 drove through a flash of bright light, whereas we pierced a veil of early morning fog. We emerged into horse pastures and stable country, gravelly roads and quiet, set back houses. A caravan was pulled off the side of the road, the owners seemingly bemused at their GPS. But we weren’t going to be let down. We had two GPS systems, and they were modern and updated. 

We continued along the gravel, passing the signs for loose stones. Soon, the signs became roadwork carrying on. We drove on, expecting roadwork to happen. No, never saw such a thing. A police car was parked in the bushes, its driver waiting like a shark to catch bored people driving fast. 

‘Turn right in 200 metres.’

We turned right in the light and expected to hit the Highway and be back on our way. We were discussing work, Cathy, my American colleague was talking holidays and Catalina, my Romanian-born colleague was talking about her weekend in the Blue Mountains.

Conversation stopped and changed. The roadwork sign was back. The caravan was back, the driver and his presumed wife standing beside it looking at their own maps. The ‘Caution: Work’ sign was flashing, but there was no sign of work. A horse watched us sleepily. 

‘We’re back where we were, right?’ Our driver asked.

‘Yes.’ We confirmed.

The policeman was still there, pulled further back and hungrily waiting. How long had it taken the first time? 30 minutes? What did he think if the same car went around twice? Probably nothing, we weren’t going fast. 

‘Turn left here.’

‘I’m turning right.’ Cathy declared. ‘It’s telling us to go back.’

Left and right in the dark. Just directions on a compass. Words, useless words in this case. The GPS didn’t correct us and tell us to turn back. I expected it to resist, to demand we U-turn. 

‘Turn left and prepare to merge onto the Pacific Highway, then prepare to turn onto Wyong exit.’

That’s my story. It’s not an odyssey, and I laugh about it, but maybe that caravan get on its way? How many people did that policeman see? It wouldn’t fill an hour’s episode, and it’s not that odd. I mean, I’ve seen and felt ghosts, so this is not scary per say. 

This was just a little GPS. 

But they do say it’s the little things that are scary.