Somewhere in New Jersey at the height of rush hour…

Cars lined the parkway in a stand still as the sound of honking horns and blaring music filled the air, and if this was a big budget Hollywood movie, this would be about the time everyone jumped out of their cars and sang a show-tune.  Unfortunately, for Effie, this was not your typical summer blockbuster.  Instead, she has driven about two miles in the past twenty-something minutes – or at least that’s what her GPS told her. 

Amid the hell that is the rush hour commute, Effie wondered how slamming her head into the steering wheel would compare to the pain of sitting in this muck of traffic.  As if a sign of consolation from the Gods reigned down upon her or perhaps it was her car sending her a message, In Limbo rang through the car speakers, saying to Effie, “Yeah, I know, this sucks.” 

While she jingled her keys along to the last few measures of the song.  Effie quickly glanced down at her impromptu tambourine, “If only I hadn’t lost you guys I might not be stuck in this mess.”

Just as the drums built up – cymbal crashes and tom smashes surrounding Effie – the song got cut off by the ringing of her phone.  Effie looked down at her cell phone, “Oh come on…”  It was one of those spam numbers from some random state like Arkansas or Wyoming.  This time it was Maryland. 

With nothing better to do, Effie decided to have some fun and pick up.  “Listen you annoying shits, if you don’t stop calling me I’m sending this number to my lawyer.”

There was silence on the other line.  “Uhhh,” a soft voice arose.  “Sorry about that…I guess this isn’t Pete?”

“No, it’s not Pete and no, I do not want to reduce my student loans or refinance my credit card debt!”

The male voice on the other line began to laugh.  “Ummm, I think you’re confused.  I’m from Maryland.  My name is Norman and I’m just visiting my buddy, Pete.  I must have just dialed the wrong number…sorry to have bothered you.”

Effie’s face turned dark red, “Oh, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.  Sorry about that, I’ll let you g-“

“Wait, wait, wait!” Norman called out.  “Weird question, but are you driving right now?  On the parkway to be exact.” 

Confused, Effie began looking around. “Uhhh, yeah…”

“Just past exit 142?”

The hairs on the back of Effie’s neck shot up. “…yes, but -“

A horn beeped to the left of Effie.  It must have been from a smaller car because it was more of a toot than a honk.  “That is you!” Norman added.  “I’m right behind you on your driver’s side!”

Turning around to her left, Effie could just make out a man waving from a bright blue Nissan.  The waving man was nerdy but sweet looking with his dark rimmed glasses and messy hair.  In return, Effie gave a soft smile and wave.

“Oh…ummm, hi…I’m Frances.  Sorry I’m not Pete.”

Norman chuckled, “Ah, no problem.  Kind of weird meeting someone new over the phone.  I feel like I should hang up and text ya…Anyway, I’ll let you go.  I do have to get in touch with the real Pete, I’m almost at his exit.”

“143?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to get over now but-” Two car horns beeped back and forth. “This jerk won’t let me over.”

“Trust me…you have time.”  Effie paused.  “Why don’t you stay on the line until you reach your exit?” she asked hesitantly.  “I mean, while I’d like to get back to Thom Yorke’s brilliance, I can wait…it’s been refreshing talking to somebody new.”

There was a long pause and Effie’s leg started to jitter until Norman finally responded.  “Oh…yeah…yeah, why not…that is, if you don’t mind.”  Norman began to uncontrollably smile and was probably glad they were in separate cars so Frances couldn’t see his big goofy smile.  Little did he know, Effie did catch a glimpse of Norman’s glow of joy and smiled ear to ear herself. 

“Man, these Jersey drivers are ruthless-“

“Hey!”

Norman chuckled to himself.  Effie could see him through her rear view mirror slowly edging over to the next lane as the car the next lane over kept inching forward blocking off Norman.  “Sorry about that,” Norman added as he slid his car over.  “I mean most Jersey drivers are assholes.  Anyway, how was work today Frances?”

Effie thought about work but seemed to totally forget what had happened before she started speaking to Norman so she decided to play it off cool.  “Eh, work…work was…work, ya know?”

“I hear ya…”

“By the way, you could just call me Effie…not Frances.”

“Oh fuck!” Norman spat out.

Effie’s face turned beet-red.  “Oh no, I’m sorry, you can call me Frances…”

Norman composed himself, “Sorry, Fran…Effie, it wasn’t you, it was this jerk in front of me.  Hey…Pete and I went to school with an Effie when I lived up here.”

“Really? I don’t remember any Norman in school…”

“Yeah, I went to FDR High until my family moved to Maryland.”

Effie slammed her hand on the steering wheel in amazement.  “No fraking way!” Effie scratched her head, trying to wrap her brain around this.  “Wait a minute…I think I would remember a Norman.  Our school wasn’t that big…”

“Hmmm, well if you are the Effie I remember, you were kind of popular and I was an invisible loser.” Norman said, shaking his head.  Effie blushed to herself.  Before she could respond Norman cut back in.  “Hey listen, I’m at my exit now so I’m gonna let you go…but, if you don’t mind I’ll call you later?” Norman’s voiced cracked with a hint of nervousness. 

Effie looked through all her mirrors, no longer seeing Norman’s car around.  “Yeah, yeah, of course.  Drive carefully…hopefully we’ll talk soon.”

“We will. Nice talking to you Effie.”  And with that Norman ended his call and Effie was alone in her car again until Radiohead slowly faded back on.  Norman? She thought.  She just couldn’t remember a Norman back in school but she was certainly happy with their by-chance meeting. 

Before Effie knew it, just as Moses parted the red sea, the traffic seemingly split as it always did around exit 144 and ten minutes later, Effie found herself home, cooking dinner, and binging whatever was new online while she anxiously awaiting Norman’s call. 

By ten that night, Effie was exhausted and passed out on her sofa, phone lying next to her, before she could talk to Norman again. 

What felt like moments later, pounding on Effie’s front door woke her up.  Her hair stood up on one side of her head, her face squished on the same side.  She squinted her eyes as she felt her way towards the door.  Opening the door she was nearly blinded by a flashlight being shined in her eyes by…was that the police?

“Frances McDonnell?” The flashlight wielding police officer asked.

Effie looked around.  It looked like the sun was just rising.  She wondered what time it was.  “Yes?”

The other officer responded.  “Ms. McDonnell, you are under arrest for the murder of a Mr. Norman Adler…”  The officer continued to read Effie her Miranda rights, while the other officer put away his flashlight and began to handcuff Effie.  And at that moment all Effie could think about was who in the world was Norman Adler…

Three hours later…

“Let me tell you a story,” the balding detective started.  What had been his name again?  Simmons? Smith?  Effie was never good with names.  The detective took a slow sip out of his coffee mug before he continued.  “You see, the other day I went to Starbucks and ordered a large coffee-“

“Venti,” Effie spit out.

“Venti, whatever.”  The detective stood up from his stool and began to pace around the interrogation room.  “So I got my coffee, it was four dollars and change and hand the cashier a fifty.  The cashier tells me that they don’t accept fifties so I say ‘well, that’s strange.’  The cashier, that tool, looked at me like I had two heads and asked why it was strange.

“I took a look around the shop and said ‘this is a multi-million dollar company, I find it hard to believe you can’t break a fifty’.”  The detective’s accent got a little thicker as he got deeper into the story, almost like he was putting on a show.  “The cashier stared at me, pretty much the way you’re looking at me right now until he grabbed the fifty out of my hand and gave me my change.”

The detective stopped pacing and slammed his hands on the table seated in front of Effie.  “Your DNA is all over this murder scene…I find it very hard to believe you can’t break my fifty.  So tell me why I should believe you when you say you don’t even know Norman Adler.” 

The detective finally took a seat across from Effie, loosening his tie.  Sweat drizzled down his worn face, dripping one by one onto the manila folder that rested on the table.

The door behind Effie opened up and a young female officer popped her head in.  She had her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun and though she had no make-up on, Effie couldn’t help but think how pretty she was for a cop. 

“Detective Kauffman?” The young officer waved him out.

Detective Kauffman pointed at Effie. “Stay still.”

“Kauffman, that was it…” Effie muttered to herself. 

Effie looked down at her ‘cuffed wrists.  Boy, this hurt a lot more than they gave away in the movies.  Why did Effie’s wrists – actually, why did her entire arms feel so sore.  Thank God she had this sweater on, otherwise Effie couldn’t imagine the possible pain of ‘cuffs to bare skin. 

Tears began to pour down Effie’s cheeks as she had time to think about what has unfolded.  Why is she even here!  What a terrible day…

A car horn blared through Effie’s sobbing.  For the first time, Effie looked to her left and realized there’s a barred window.  As the sun spotted through the rusted bars, the honking horns grabbed hold of Effie and dragged her into her own subconscious like two attracting magnets.  Suddenly Effie was back in her own house, looking out the window.  It was night time, the moon was blood red, and a car sat outside of Effie’s house. 

Just as the car door swung open, the sound of a door slamming shut shook Effie out of her dream-like state.  It was Detective Kauffman back from his smoke break or wherever he went off to.  He sauntered back down to his chair.  Oh how Effie wished she could smack that arrogant smirk off his face.  “Well, Ms. McDonnell, looks like we’re going to have to keep you a bit longer due to, you know, this murder business.”

Blood rushed to Effie’s head.  “What about a lawyer!?  I’m entitled to a lawyer, right?”

Kauffman sat their calmly.  “Do you have a lawyer Ms. McDonnell?  Because about two hours ago you told us you didn’t.”

This time Effie’s face was red due to embarrassment, not anger.  “Well…no.”

Detective Kauffman stood, walked around and released Effie from the confines of the table.  “You’ll have to wait for an appointed county lawyer to get here.  Until then you’re going to have to wait in the cell block.”

A cell block?!  What, had Effie watched a block of NYPD Blue and is now having some weird twisted dream?  Actually, scratch that, Effie would have preferred Sipowicz at this point over this joke of a detective. 

However, getting locked up in the cell was nothing like the film industry lead Effie to believe the experience would be like.  At no point was she stripped down and sprayed down with a hose or shower, she never got a dirty look from another inmate – in fact there was only one other person down in the cell block – nor did they make her change into one of those ugly orange jumpsuits.  In fact, they almost forgot to take her mugshot before nearly having to beg for one!  There was no way Effie was getting locked up without at least getting that mugshot taken.  Just think of all those classic mugshots…Frank Sinatra, David Bowie, and now her, Frances McDonnell.

Effie sat on a metal slab that some might call a bench, her long blond hair resting her in hands.  The long sleeves of her sweater, falling to her elbows. 

A voice rang out, “Club Wave Echo, huh?”

Effie slowly raised her head as if struggling to hold the weight with her neck.  The sleeves to her sweater falling half way down her forearms.  Sitting in the cell across from her was your typical high school Goth chick: black hair shaved to a buzz cut, more piercings than Effie could count, and numerous layers of black clothing. 

After processing all of this all Effie could muster up was, “What?”

“Wave Echo.” the Goth said again.  “It’s a club downtown…you have the wristband on that they give out at the front door.  I’ve always preferred Club Genesis over Wave Echo but it’s got a cool cave theme going on.”

Effie assessed both of her wrists.  Nestled around her right wrist was a paper wristband.  Faded blue waves circled the cheap paper that read “Wave Echo: Make a Splash in Life”. 

The Goth cut in, breaking Effie’s concentration.  “This must be your first time in the slammer, you seem real wound up.  I bet if I shoved a piece of coal up your ass, a diamond would come out.”  The Goth spit the gum she was chewing out on the floor.  “Anyway, don’t get too stressed, you’ll be out of here in no time.  This is the third time I’ve been picked up for indecent exposure and they usually let me out after a few hours.”

Effie eyed the girl, “Indecent exposure?  What are you, twelve?”

The Goth chuckled, “As if.  I’m seventeen.  What are you in here for anyway, grandma?”

Effie stood up and walked up to the front of the cell until she could grab hold of the bars in front of her.  Playing up the theatrics, she gave herself a nice pause and then whispered, “Murder…”

The Goth’s eyes widened to a point that it was comical and she quickly turned away from Effie.  Effie lit up with joy.  Even if this wasn’t a dream that was straight out of NYPD Blue, Effie thought. 

Reaching down to her wrist, Effie’s attention went back to this club.  When did she go to this Wave Echo place?  She didn’t think she had it on last night.  Did the police slip it on with the ‘cuffs? 

Sitting back down, Effie pulled down her sleeve, covering up the paper band.  As her eyes closed shut, the smell of cheap booze and the pounding bass of trashy house music overwhelmed her mind.  The dark interior of a man-made cavern flashed through her head.  Cries of what sounded like her voice screaming “No!” And the forceful grasp of a man’s hands around her wrists forced Effie to snap out of her dream-like-state.   

“Kauffman?!” Effie called out.

Minutes later, Effie sat down, looking through her high school year book. 

“Nothing pops out to you?” Kauffman inspected.  He now had bags under his eyes that looked more like inflated beach balls than anything else.  He was on his forth coffee of the day but knew that it wouldn’t do anything for him.

Effie freely turned the pages, relieved she was no longer ‘cuffed; however, she did feel like she was back in school looking for the answer to some complex equation that she had no idea how to solve.  It had to be nearly 24 hours since she was rudely awaken by the police and the lack of sleep wasn’t helping her at all. 

“Okay then, have a look at this…”  Kauffman tossed a similar looking year book in front of Effie.  “This is from the year before you graduated…turn to your class and look through the “A’s”.”

Confused, Effie flipped open the yearbook to the junior class. 

“Abminster, Accione, Adler, Alberts…”

Kauffman went to take a sip of his coffee before realizing that there was nothing left.  “Interesting…Adler, why does that name sound so familiar?”

Effie looked back down, “Adler, Norman Adl-” Effie stopped, staring down in disbelief.  Remnants of her own cries for help echoed through her head as flashes of this Norman Adler menacingly glared at her through the club and into her house until blood was splattered everywhere. 

Kauffman seemed to have come to a calm, looking eye-to-eye with Effie.  “Does that face ring any bell in your mind, Ms. McDonnell?”

“But what about this Wave Echo place?” Effie protested, raising her wrist in the air.

“We’ll get to that soon enough…we’re just trying to piece this puzzle together…”  Kauffman now looked more concerned than he’s looked in the past twenty-four hours.  “This is proof you two have known each other Ms. McDonnell.  You’re telling me you’ve never seen this man before?”

Before Effie could respond, a knock at the door came.  A young, dark-haired officer stepped in and Effie couldn’t help but think – even in this darkest hour – how pretty this police officer was…even without makeup. 

“Kauffman, we have a problem,” the young officer called out. 

Annoyed, Kauffman hurried through the door, leaving Effie alone…no restraints, no handcuffs.  After a while, Effie picked up her senior year yearbook.  Running her hand through her hair she said out loud, “Why did I ever cut my hair so short?” 

Though she usually kept her hair up in a bun or braid, her hair was nearly down to her waist, but in her senior portrait her hair resembled more of Sinead O’Connor rather than Rapunzel. 

Outside a school bell rang, prompting Effie to drop the yearbook and curiously look out the window.  Effie gazed out the barred window at the school across the street.  Students flooded the streets, pouring out of the school door. 

“Franklin D. Roosevelt High School,” Effie read the name that hung over the main entrance.  “Huh…”

By now, most of the students were already gone.  Only a few students remained, hiding underneath the bleachers, most likely getting high or swapping spit.  Effie ran her hand through her hair one more time.  The back of her head rang out in a dull pain. 

“Boy, I need a nap or some coffeeeeee…” Effie said as she picked up the coffee to-go cup on the table.  “Damn, empty.  Maybe there’s a machine nearby.”  Effie said, wandering out the door into the hallway, seemingly forgetting what she was doing and where she was. 

From the distance Effie could her a familiar voice.  “So you said you work with Ms. McDonnell, Ms…”

“Valencia.  Carmen Valencia.  Yes, but you have to understand, Frances and this Norman Adler have a long history.  Frances…Effie, has some issues.  Her short term memory is shit but anything that happened prior to the incident has more or less stayed intact memory wise.”  Carmen took a breath.  “It gets tough at work sometimes but she works hard.”

“I was afraid this was the case.  Something has been off ever since Ms. McDonnell was brought it.  I’ve had Officer Esposito looking into her past for nearly eighteen straight hours.  I must ask though, how has Ms. McDonnell been able to survive…she seems to have been living a normal life, even working.”

Carmen responded quickly as if this wasn’t the first time she’s had to answer this question.  “We’ve been working together for some time now so her daily routine is somewhat ingrained in her subconscious or that’s what her doctor has said.  Besides there’s always GPS if she gets lost or forgets where she’s going, all she has to do is click “Home” or “Work”.  Unfortunately she’s been getting worse these past few days and I feared Adler was back at it again which is why I came here after I heard about Effie’s arrest.”

Footsteps echoed down the hallway causing Effie to take cover as another voice joined the conversation down the hall.

“Looks like Ms. Valencia’s story checks out,” the third voice said.  “Ms. McDonnell has had a restraining order against Mr. Adler for 14 years…looks like the restraining order coincides with date Adler pushed McDonnell off the bleachers according to this Times article.”

Effie rubbed the back of her head. 

“From what I’ve heard, Adler’s always had this weird infatuation with Effie,” Carmen Valencia added.  “You know, that typical nerdy guy in love with the popular cheerleader…except to the extreme.”

“So that’s what brought upon Ms. McDonnell’s memory loss?” the familiar gruff of a male voice inquired.

“Yeah, according to her doctor, yes.  He said he’ll be here within the hour.”  The officer continued, “Looks like this isn’t the first time Mr. Adler has messed with Ms. McDonnell either.  I found a report filed by Frances three years ago about a stranger potentially stalking her…turns out it was Adler.”

“Poor Effie,” Carmen solemnly said.  You could almost hear the tears in her voice.  “She’s going to have to be admitted, isn’t she?”

There was a long pause until the gruff male voice was forced to respond.  “I’m afraid so, Ms. Valencia.  Even if she returns to her ‘normal’ state she still committed murder, whether it was in self-defense or not, the it seems like that’s the only way she could avoid time being locked up.”

Effie’s knees became weak as her head started to spin.  All of a sudden it all came back to her.  The awkwardness of seventeen year-old Norman Adler, the sensation of free falling, the jarring pain of a rock digging three inches into her skull and then Norman showing up at her front door just nights earlier.  Norman forcing her out to the night club and trying to force himself upon her.  Finally Norman dragging Effie to his apartment and seeing how deranged he truly was.  Locks her of her hair tucked away into candid photos of her from who the hell knows when, a notebook of drawings of Effie in the style of Japanese hentai, and then he attacked her. 

The last thing Effie remembers is barely making it home, blood spattered all over her hands.  And for a moment, Effie came to, now standing in front of Detective Kauffman, Officer Esposito and Carmen Valencia.

“Effie?” Carmen whimpered just before Effie’s eyes glazed over and she dropped to the ground. 

Four months later in an undisclosed area…

Effie’s eyelids batted open like a butterfly taking off.  Snuggling with a big, fluffy blanket, Effie stretched out her arms, letting out a yawn rivaling that of a tugboat’s horn.  A light tap sprung from her room’s door and a middle-aged woman stepped in.  She was wearing a plain white dress that buttoned up in the front. 

She smiled at Effie, who still sat in bed.  “Good morning Effie!”  The cheerful woman rested a tray of food on Effie’s bed-side table.  “Here’s your breakfast, hun, and don’t forget to take all your pills too.” 

Effie looked at the food and took a big whiff of the plate.  “Smells good!”  Taking another whiff, a familiar scent lingered in her nose. “Pecans?”  And as if second nature Effie broke into her best Billy Crystal impersonation, “But I would be proud…to partake…of your pecan pie…”

Effie’s smile faded away and her eyes shifted away from the woman.  “Thank you, but I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

The chipper woman smiled from ear to ear.  “Oh don’t worry about it sweetie, now have a good day, I’ll see ya later.” 

Before Effie could say good-bye, the nurse popped her head back in the door.  “Oh, and don’t forget about your music, Ef.”

Effie looked over to the other side of her room and a collection of music sat next to a set of speakers.  Effie tossed the blanket off of her, patted down her white shirt and pants, and fingered through her CD collection.  After several times through, Effie finally decided on an album. 

Not content with her decision, Effie skipped ahead a few songs until she started to sway to the music.  Doing her best Ally Sheedy impersonation, Effie quietly danced with herself to Radiohead’s In Limbo. 

Copyright William Meier Jr. 2022 ©