Short Story Competition 8 (I Spy) - VOTE HERE!

The Trip of a Lifetime

Mary had always hated road trips. Without fail, every year, something would go horribly wrong. This was exacerbated by the fact that she would always get sick en route to their destination. Motion-sickness tablets, hypnotic tapes, she even considered going to a voodoo doctor once. Nothing ever worked.

The whole experience made her feel terrible, because it made her feel like all the problems during the trips were all her fault. Perhaps this was nature’s way of telling her to stay at home and forget about any grand plans she had for her future.

One time, while she was standing at the side of the road, heaving into an all-too-familiar plastic bag, her little brother, Josh, was sitting on a gate. He lost his balance and fell backwards into the field, landing on his head and knocking himself out. He woke up two hours later in hospital, and although her parents never blamed her, she felt like it was all her fault. If she wasn’t such a bad traveller, Mike wouldn’t have been sitting on the gate, and they wouldn’t all be sitting in hospital right now.

Accidents like this were just part of the problem with road trips. Let’s not forget the excruciatingly long silences while driving for miles, punctuated by sporadic games of I Spy. Surely, Mary thought, there could not be a worse game in existence. No matter what road you’re on, you always see the same things: sky, road, car, house, the list goes on. Even when something new does appear, it’s obvious that it’s going to be the next clue, so the novelty of seeing it disappears rapidly. Unfortunately for Mary, something beginning with ‘V’ was a regular sight on her car journeys.

This year, the family had decided to visit Tramore for the weekend. Why they couldn’t pick a closer beach, Mary didn’t know, but she knew she would enjoy it when she got there so she tried to keep her hopes up. Perhaps today would be different, she though. Maybe today, everything will go alright. What a foolishly hopeful thing to think. After all the packing was done, and with a plastic bag within reach, they pulled out of the driveway, and…

Mary wasn’t even sure what happened next. All she remembered was seeing a truck coming up the road, and hearing a loud crash. And now she was here. Somewhere else.

Mary couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She was surrounded by a bright light, coming from the air itself. How cliché, she thought, but only for a moment as a wave of calmness came over her. Ahead of her, just about to walk into the light, she could see her family, waiting for her: Josh doing a silly dance, while Mum and Dad stood smiling, holding hands. When she reached them, they all walked into the light together. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t even feeling sick. In fact, the further they walked, the happier she felt. Then she saw someone in the distance; someone she instantly recognised; someone beginning with ‘G’.

'I spy with my little eye something beginning with G', Emily trilled annoyingly from the back seat of the mini bus as they moved inexorably closer to the Macra na Feirme annual convention. The bus was full of Dublin women off down on a farmer hunt to the Kilkenny headquarters where they'd been promised single farmers galore desperate for a wife.

'Jesus Christ that girl will give me heartburn.' Moira hissed at her flatmate, Jenny, who'd wrangled a free ride for them both on the trip. Then looking meaningfully at Emilys spacious mouth, shouted back. 'Gums!'

'Gorgeous guys!' Jenny ignored Moira and entered into the spirit of the game. She wasn't going to let her pessimistic friend put a dampener on the outing since she was absolutely certain that Macra na Feirme gigs were where the real men were at. She'd seen it on that reality show on the telly after all. And the newspaper was paying for both of them to go on the weekend, as long as they did a few of the courses, took a few photos and reported back, what was not to like?

'Gorgeous guys?! Unless you're counting the bus driver there, I think maybe you need your eyes examining. And he's 60 if he's a day. And so very not gorgeous.' Moira spelled it out lest there be any doubt. 'Geeks!' She shouted at Emily with a mean smirk.

'It's GARDA, actually.' Emily said pointedly, looking out the window as the bus slowed down at a checkpoint.

'Mmmm, guards, I love guards, so strong and silent and sexy in their serge uniform.' Clearly Jenny had had one too many beers at their last stop,it always made her prone to alliteration, Moira thought as she peered at her dolefully.

'Oh cheer up Moira, even if the convention is a bust- at least it's a weekend in a nice hotel with- hopefully- a few good meals. Better than the swill we normally get served up in the canteen. Hey, what do you say we try to get the guards to pose for a photo with us?'

'No way, they're on duty, they won't do it.' She looked at Jenny digging out the miserable digital camera they'd been entrusted with for the weekend.

'Maybe not for you, since you've forgotten how to flirt it's been so long...but I think I'm in with a chance.' Jenny flounced up the aisle of the bus in her yellow dungarees, bought specially as she thought it would attract a farmer, and smiled out the door as the bus came to a halt.

Moira glumly followed, more to keep her friend out of trouble then born of any hope. Jenny was right though, she had a natural charm and a flirty nature that attracted blokes like a hormonal woman to chocolate. Moira hadn't had a date in ages, months, okay feck it, it had been over two years. And the longer it went on the worse her luck was. It was probably pheromones or something, she thought, basic chemistry. The more sex you got, the more you got offered. And if you hadn't had any in ages...she followed Jenny who was now flirting determinedly with a cute black haired guard and showing him her camera. He looked far too interested for his own good. His fellow guard, a tall redhead, was examining the insurance and other discs on the windscreen while flashing dirty looks at the pair.

'We're off to the Macra convention in Kilkenny, any chance of a few pics with you two for The Globe?' Moira trotted the party line, deadpan, to the suspicious looking Garda who had finished looking at the discs and was watching the traffic build up behind the minibus.

'No chance.' He said dourly. Strangely his gloom had a cheering affect on Moira. 'Don't suppose you're a part time or weekend farmer or anything?' She smiled brightly at him.

Just then Jenny squealed and ran over to Moira-'Joe's coming to the convention later after his shift! No luck on the photos though.' She smiled back at her latest conquest.They're based in Kilkenny Garda station anyway so he's going to come along and he's going to bring a few single friends.'

'How 'bout you Garda, fancy coming to the Macra hop later?' Moira smirked at the cranky one.

'You're holding up traffic there.' He pointed out, crossly, and motioned them back on the bus.

'Gotta love the strong silent type', Moira whispered in his direction as she climbed back on pulling Jenny with her. She smiled back over her shoulder at the confused looking Garda. Almost reluctantly, it seemed, he pulled his hat off and a corner of his mouth lifted as he watched her leering at him through the window.

'What's gotten into you- I haven't seen you so flirty in ages?' Jenny giggled as Moira blew air kisses at the guard as the bus moved away.

'God knows', Moira laughed,' I think it's 'cause he was so bloody cranky- he reminded me of myself on a good day.'

She sat back and for the first time started to look forward to the weekend. She might have a game of eye spy the Garda this weekend...

The blue 'G' rotated in the centre of the screen. Henry had never seen this feature, but Google were known innovators. He assumed he'd just missed the announcement.

After a moment, the page changed and his mouth opened.

"Sarah, come look at this!" he shouted downstairs.

"Check it out," he said when his wife walked into the bedroom "'Eye Spy.'"

He reloaded the window, returning to the homepage. The Google logo re-appeared, above a small text field and a button which read: "Find!"

His heart thumping, he typed the words again.

C-a-r, space, K-e-y-s

He clicked the button. The page changed to the spinning 'G', then flashed, and a list appeared.

"Car Keys.

Probable locations:

Reilly family bathroom counter (28%)

Reilly family master bedroom locker (84%)

Reilly family kitchen table (90%)"

Her eyes widened.

"It's based on search habits, user profiles," he said. "It can find anything."

His wife leaned forward to the keyboard and typed:

K-e-v-i-n

Their son. She clicked the "Find!" button and after a moment, the screen changed.

"Kevin Reilly.

Probable locations:

Fun Time Bowling Alley (18%)

Reilly family small bedroom (23%)

St. Oliver's National School (81%)"

She laughed and shook her head. "It's almost scary," she said. "Come on, your dinner is ready."

The days passed, and as they did, Henry became engrossed in "Eye Spy." One night, he showed it to his best friend, Frank Jameson. The pair spent hours finding everything they could imagine; wallets, phones, remote controls.

Soon though, the novelty faded - for Frank, if not for Henry. He was left alone, thinking, typing and clicking, asking Google to find things sat right beside him.

Two months had now passed since that first time, when he had clicked on the mysterious icon on his Google homepage. The night was dark and he sat - alone as usual - at the computer, when suddenly his fingers stopped moving.

He pulled away from the keyboard and looked around the shadowy office. He listened, but heard only silence. He wondered if he was alone in the house, and tried to remember the last time he had spoken to his family. He could not.

Bathed in that suddenly discomforting blue glow, he leaned forward once more and began to type.

S-a-r-a-h

He clicked the button and waited. The spinning 'G' seemed to take much longer than usual, and he clicked three or four times again before the page changed.

The results appeared and for the longest time, he sat and stared at them in silence.

"Sarah Reilly.

Probable locations:

Universal Cineplex (19%)

General Pao's Chinese Restaurant (22%)

Jameson family master bedroom (89%)"

Frank.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but when he looked to the window again, the first cracks of light had begun to appear on the horizon. He turned from the window back to the screen, and reloaded it one last time.

As tears welled up behind his eyes, he leaned forward and began to type.

R-O-P-E

He clicked the button, and waited.

I'm just voting for one - version 6. By far the most innovative story of the lot, the almost-credible sci-fi twist on the theme worked really well I felt. Well structured, funny and dark, all in under an hour. I particularly liked how it was obvious where he would find his wife but then the reader is thrown again by the last lines.

Honourable mention to number 3 for the original style and the ending.

Version one was let down a little by the ending but still manages to be a complete, self-contained story and deserves respect for that.

Version two (and all the others) was too literal an interpretation I felt. I liked the "something beginning with V" when I got it after a few seconds.

Version four was a little incoherent and again too literal. Given the length it reads like it was all bashed out in one go.

Version five - again, kids in a car.

Version seven - ditto, albeit with a clairvoyant twist that, ehm, you could see coming a mile off

And Mike, a.k.a. Josh