So. Let me tell you what I did on my little staycation. You know that big, unused field just outside of town? The one that the city claims they're going to fix up and turn into luxury condominiums? They didn't, of course. But somebody else did something with it.
Jerri and I went to check it out. We saw it from the office window. It looked like a garden had sprouted up overnight, or a building. I swear it wasn't there the day before. We got to talking about it and Jerri thought it might make a nice outing. Take one day out of my staycation to be a tourist in my own town. I can use the other days to fix the roof.
So we got up early on Saturday and went to the field right after sunrise. From a distance, whatever had popped up looked like a... well, Jerri and I couldn't decide what it was at first. She thought it looked like one of those knock-off medieval times dives. I thought someone had planted a bunch of flowering hedges around an old dollar store.
It was a wonder seeing it up close. You really couldn't see the details from afar. The painters had done the exteriors in all kinds of colors and textures; pastels on concrete, gradients on matte, and even a color-changing paint on the doors leading inside. Strangely enough, they made it all look like foliage. Flowers of all kinds with leaves that I swear popped out. I wonder what kind of paint they used to make it look muted from a distance?
There was nobody around. No one taking tickets or cards, no one turning us away. We waited outside the doors, debating whether to go inside at all. What if this was a ploy to trap people and sell them on some black market? Jerri said she had a pocket knife on her. I said I was wearing my best running shoes. Not that either would have made a difference, but it gave us some courage.
There was some writing above the doors, done in a bold, stylish script that you'd see in a circus. It said: Life Is a Ride.
Around that time, the sun was rising higher and it was getting warmer. I think that's what drove us inside eventually.
But inside!
It was like a dark forest. Trunks everywhere, taller than us, made from some corrugated material that felt like it could scrape off our fingerprints. When we looked up, we could only see suggestions of piney canopies. The flashlights on our phones couldn't find the actual boughs.
The floor in some sections moved. Some parts wobbled like a wooden bridge. Some sections were rolled and dipped like a bed covered with pillows. There were bits of broken road along the path. Actual pieces, like asphalt with the white and yellow lines. It was like the forest had sprouted up along a highway and ruined it.
Then we came to the cars. It was like a wreck spread out through this forest. Some cars were wrapped around trees, others telescoped against them. Mounds of metal. All this display of tragedy tucked away in this artificial forest.
I don't know how long it took us to get through this maze. Maybe half an hour. But along the way, we'd see prescription glasses, stuffed toys, old roadmaps, and even a few lost licenses. Let me tell you, whatever excitement we felt earlier was gone by now.
We found the exit. A revolving door. Yes, a revolving door. If you're going through the trouble of installing a bunch of wrecked vehicles, I guess having a working revolving door in your building is a small feat.
Right above us was a sign, this one done in a scratchy handwriting: Life is a Ride. Don't Get Wrecked.
Talk about making a statement! I scheduled an appointment to have a state inspection. I don't care if it's two months early.
But I still have questions. So does Jerri. Who made this thing? Who funded it, painted it, got all those cars? Are they from actual wrecks? Oh, God, that'd be awful. All those things that passed through people's hands. All those stuffed animals that little children must have loved. All those licenses from people who might have been going on vacation or just running errands.
We've asked around. Some people have gone into the maze, but they're just as confused as us. Some people, once they hear about what's inside, don't even bother going through those doors. I can't blame them.
But I can't stop thinking about it until I found out who made this and why.
So. Do you want to help me find out who made this thing?