Freeze Your Brain

(A r/talesfromthecreeps Story Submission)

Summer break, dead grandma, a lakehouse that can’t occupy itself. These were the circumstances that had my younger brother, our spouses, and I on our way up the Taconic State Parkway for the first time in almost a decade. We rode with the windows down, trying to circulate as much air through the car as we could to keep the sweat from sticking to our skin. It was kinda working, as I could see my brother’s black tee ripple with the breeze, but my fiance, Leah, was starting to get restless. I could tell by her request to turn the radio up so she could ‘listen for traffic’. We were all getting irritable.

I pulled out my phone and opened the gps app. I wasn’t sure how far we were, but we’d been on the road for at least 4 hours already. Between going through NYC and the cautious driving to avoid potholes, I knew we were behind schedule. Confirming my suspicions, the ETA lit up before me. A mix of blue, red, and yellow lines guided my eyes along our path. We were 40 miles away still, another almost two hours of driving, but that was right now. Who knew what else was bound to happen.

A sigh broke out to my left. Turning, I found Leah with her fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose. Assuming she’d seen the time, I let the screen light go out and avoided her gaze. There was nothing to look at outside, but I was trying. Heaven sent, a nostalgic sound cut through the radio static. A familiar looney tunes-type broadcaster captivated me. 

“Can’t beat the heat? We’ve got you covered! Enjoy a regular-sized Freezee for $1.49! Not convinced? We have tons of flavors to choose from! Try melon, cherry, orange, mint cookie, butterscotch, coke- you name it, we have it. To try your location-specific flavor, just ask! They’re out of this world!

There’s nothing better than slurpin’ on some slush on one of these long Summer days. So, what are you waiting for? Come to 1-11 and get yours now!”

Finally, there was something worth listening to. A 1-11 ad. The king of upstate New York’s  selection of rest stops. Sure, 7-Eleven is everyone’s favoirite, Wawa is cool, and Cumberland has that shake machine, but 1-11 really takes the cake with those Freezees.

Well, I guess if you’ve never been to one then you wouldn’t know. My family has been stopping at the only location off of the Taconic for as long as I can remember. My brother and I could hardly ever contain our excitement for the 16oz of sugary frozen drink whenever the ad sounded out. Trips up this way always ended by the lakehouse, so 1-11 was a great halfway-point. We’d usually stop to relieve ourselves and recharge before making the rest of the journey. One stop on the way up, and one when we came back down. It was our ritual.

As I got older, I stopped really caring about the frozen drinks and was way more interested in the food. My little brother though, same as he always was, never stopped being a fan of making the trip for his usual.

This time, once the radio finished its call to action, the car jerked, and I snapped my head up to find him looking back and forth at me in the rear view. His eyes said, You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?, as his gaze darted from road to mirror. His words were:

“You ever take Leah to 1-11?”

“Is that the gas station you guys used to stop at when you were kids?” She piped up from beside me.

“Specialty convenience store,” He replied quickly. “But yeah. When Grandma Jo got sick we stopped coming up, stopped going. Last time I remember being there I was… 15?”

With a dramatic gasp in his direction, Sarah, his girlfriend, decided to turn and face us from the passenger seat. “We have to go! Mike talks about the slushies all the time! Did you say you wanted to try the location flavor?”

“Freezee, baby. Freezee.” He interjected again, gripping the wheel and focusing on the road ahead. In the mirror I could see the corner of his mouth twitch up. “Yeah. I wanna get it.”

His voice had been too stern, he’d jumped down her throat too quick- but it had to be the stress of driving. I could understand, not like any of us had offered to switch seats with him yet, and we’d left pretty early. We sat in silence as the next exit sign whizzed past us. Our destination laid out plain as day:

1-11 - ½ mile

“I think this is the pull off coming up.” Mike piped up again, his voice less strained, probably relieved by the prospect of a nostalgic break.

“Any objections? Speak now or forever hold your peace!” I tried breathing some life back into the car, and maybe it would’ve worked if I was with any other group of people.

“Will it make the drive longer?” Leah asked.

“Doesn’t really matter,” Mike called back. “It’s not like you’re the one driving anyway. Besides, I’m sure Derek wants to stop too.”

She stayed silent, and a tap on my thigh made our eyes meet. As soon as I caught a glimpse, I could tell she was fuming. Her expression was flat, but her eyes said it all. She wanted to keep driving, she wasn’t interested in another delay. She probably wanted me to say something to him too. Since I started dating her, those two have always been on the outs. She usually did a good job keeping it together for my sake. I’ve spoken to him about it before, but he’s hard to get through to. It’s easier to ignore than engage. I took her hand in mine and squeezed, trying to give as reassuring of a smile as I could muster. My stomach gurgled. I’d deal with her and Mike later, now wasn’t the time. 

“I’m just gonna grab a roller bite or something. It’s not like Buccee’s, there’s nothing crazy in there other than the Freezee machine.”

I knew I’d just said the wrong thing.

“Sounds good then.”

Her hand slipped through, and she nodded, smiling without her eyes. This was her malicious compliance face. I opened my mouth to continue, but Mike and Sarah cut me off as they began to holler, and the car accelerated towards the off ramp. We teetered briefly, and I gripped the driver’s seat headrest.

“Hey, dickhead, take it easy, huh?”

“My bad- Look dude! That’s it!”

“That was quick! How fast are you going, baby?”

When someone has that kind of reaction to something, usually you expect to turn and see a grandiose building, something decadent and beautiful. 1-11 was no Taj Mahal or Notre Dame, and certainly not worth our lives. It was just like how I remembered, though: about as big as its more popular counterpart, with the fuel pumps bagged off in the front. The once vibrant yellow paint and brick red siding had a mosaic of dirt splats, bug guts, and mystery stains along the whole exterior. The windows that lined the entire storefront were blocked from looking in by large posters and one way viewing decals.

It wasn’t much to look at, but it was something. Alluring in its own way, almost as if someone had to force my head to look upon it. You could never take your mind off of 1-11 for too long, something always brought you back.

There was only one car in the small lot as we pulled in, which was disheartening, but typical whenever we’d stopped by. What used to confuse me as a kid was that it was always the same beat up sage green 4x4, parked in the same spot, every time. By no means did this imply that the same employee would be working the register though, I quickly found out. There was always someone new, so my parents started telling us it was a company car. It must’ve been true.

We parked, and Leah got out last, refusing to take my hand as I offered to guide her.

“Is there a bathroom at least?” She muttered when we were again side by side. I gave a nod, and turned to group up with Mike, but he was gone. We were alone.

“Look,” I started, taking advantage of the opportunity before it passed us by. “We can talk about Mike and this whole ride when we get to the lake, but I need you to cut him some slack right now. My hands are tied, you know how he is.”

“Me? He’s the one that has been down my throat the whole ride. You always do this,” Her ire was laid out for me, however, as if all the wind had been drained from her, she stopped herself. “No. You know what, sure, we’ll talk later.”

“I’m sorry.” I said, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t even really sure I meant it, it was more a formality. Leah turned and we walked inside single file.

Sure enough, the inside of this place was a time capsule. Some things really do never change. 4 aisles, short enough for most people to see over, spanned across half the length of the store itself. At the register baskets of bananas, grab-n-go candies, scratch-off displays, and all manner of cigarettes resided. There, on her sciatica relieving foam floor mat throne, stood our lone clerk, a decidedly 70 year old woman. Her hair was stark white, pulled up and back into a pathetic thin ponytail that was pulled through the back of her company-issued yellow and red 1-11 cap. Her eyes looked like they were glazed over as she stared out over the store, sunken in their crows nests, seemingly not even taking in mine and Leah’s entry. Maybe she had cataracts. I decided not to engage.

Turning my attention to the far side of the store, a pang of remembrance rang through my body. The roller grill had its own special corner, stocked fully with condiments and toppings. Another gurgle under my skin made the entire rack look edible. Man, I was hungry, but something else caught my eye at that moment. Beside the hot food grail, there it was: the Freezee Machine.

It was truly something to behold. Seeing the thing as an adult solidified the majesty we’d felt radiating off of it as children. A large stainless steel box with a truly retro keypad for flavor selection. Painted along the outside were various mascots and abstract shapes in vibrant summer colors. Depending on the time of year this artwork usually was themed. Right now, a few assorted ice pops danced around fireworks displays. Personified lemonade people held cartoonishly large gloved thumbs up. There was apple pie and hotdogs- displaying flavors the machine had no doubt. Beside it all, on the wall closer to the panel, there was a sign that listed all the flavors and their corresponding numbers, spanning the whole height of the machine itself. Neatly displayed in Helvetica pt. 11 each one was lined up in perfect little rows.

Mike stood by the condiment bar, head tilted down as he decided on which cup to grab. My legs compelled the rest of me to follow as I was drawn to his side. We were right to have revered the titan. In this realization, guilt washed over me briefly, and I was ashamed that we’d ever stopped coming, and that I didn’t want a drink myself. I gravitated to my brother, joining the search for the perfect size to fit his needs.

“Where’s Sarah?” Leah’s voice pulled me from our quest, and I looked over to her. The world was flat again, matte and boring. A few steps away from us was a wet floor sign, and some light blue slush ice between the legs.

“Maybe she went to the bathroom.” I offered. Turning, I prompted my brother, who was still entranced by the decision he needed to make. Without a word he kept staring down at the rack. I cleared my throat. Still, nothing.

“Mike?”

“Yeah, bathroom.” He responded, pointing past the register to a short hallway. There was no pause in his work. Leah and I shared a glance, then both came back to the behemoth. As we did, my younger brother paid us no mind, and my gaze fell onto the flavor menu, following hers.

“No way, they have strawberry shortcake.” She whispered. “How many flavors are there? Maybe I’ll get one after all.”

Before I could get a word out, my grip found a 16oz and handed it her way. She moved away from me, closer to the flavor board, head craning to read the ones at the top. As she stepped past my eyes, it was almost as if she rippled in the light. My head was starting to feel a little fuzzy. That’s when a rapid scuffling briefly found my ears and seemed to stop beside me, followed by a wave of something extremely flowery and extremely cheap.

“Can I help you guys find something?" An ancient voice creaked to life. Turning, I found the cashier standing shoulder to shoulder with me. I jumped, nearly stepping back into Leah. This was beyond atypical. Usually the workers here never paid us any mind, at least, I never remember them being so assertive. Disjointed memories of mundane and uneventful stops ran in reels through my head as I floundered to apologize.

“Yeah actually,” Mike answered. Turning to the sound of his voice I saw that he’d grabbed two 22oz cups as he was addressing her. My jaw fell open. Was he planning on getting both? I reeled as the two threw exchanges at each other rapid fire, like bullets.

“I was wondering about this location’s flavor. Never had it before.”

“Oh, funny thing about that,” Taking a side-step to man the panel, she began typing, continuing as if reading from a script. Her voice cracked and pitched down at times.

“Every location has their own unique flavor, as you know, but they are subject to change. New owners can request their own special blends to replace the previous one. That old flavor then becomes a part of a huge list for seasonal or promo use, and the location gets its new special recipe!”

As she spoke, I saw Mike watching with an intense expression, the corners of his mouth twitching until they tugged into a giddy smile.

“My brother and I used to come all the time actually. I just never got around to getting the special one.”

He really seemed to be drinking up every word she said. Nodding along, it was almost like he’d begun to sway, a snake charmed by the sales pitch of a convenience store dinosaur.

“No kidding! Not too long ago I actually acquired this location from the previous owner, so I’m sorry if you were looking for theirs. But, wouldn’t you know- You’ve just happened to come the day my flavor came! If you’re worried about artificial colors or flavors, I can assure you, it’s totally non-toxic and dye-free! I just got the hoses connected not even an hour ago. It should be good to go!”

Now at my side craning to see what was being input, even Leah seemed to be soaking up the information. She listened closely, head bobbing with each inflection.

“What’s it called?” Was she really so interested?

Giving us a few raspy chuckles, the old woman tsked. “I’m not sure yet! I thought, maybe some customers would help me come up with something good. I’ll give you each a size of your choosing to sample if you’d like to have a go at it.”

Both turned to me in an all-too-orchestrated pivot, my younger brother extending one of his cups. My hands flew up to my chest, trying to wave the attention away.

“I’m good man, really.”

He nudged me, harder than I liked. “It’s literally free Derek. You’re really not gonna take a free Freezee?”

“I’m trying to cut sugar, dude.”

“Since when?” Leah joined. “That wasn’t the case when we were at breakfast.” 

“You can only avoid so much shit in the morning.”

“It’s really no trouble at all,” The old bag chimed in too. “Even if you don’t make up a name, it’s yours. Please, I insist.”

I don’t want the slush. 

I thought I said that, but I’m not sure. If I had, how did the 22oz get into my hand?

Another blink and I caught myself pulling back from the steel box, saggy hag beside me, full cup in tow. Mike hopped on his feet excitedly to my side. The world surrounding him had started to spin. A telling tug started in the back of my throat, this wasn’t right. 

A glance over at my fiance and to my shock there she was sporting her own full glass. Looking away, the colors reverberated and streaked across my vision. My breathing slowed, in, out, in, out. I felt the hot air pass through my teeth and then, as if on command, the familiar chill of our childhood favorite was going down the back of my tongue. My heart leaped, and at first, I was thrust into flight, then, I gave pause, and was reinvigorated. I doubled down, swallowing hard, eyes closing to immerse myself.

You can almost pick out the flavors if you breathe between drinking. Pineapple, mango, allspice, black cherry, icy mint, apple, cinnamon. A cacophony of fruits and spices that never should’ve married. It was wintry and tropical and so fucking good. Never had I thought these flavors could come together and create such a perfect sip. Letting it whisk me away, I found I was swimming through icy waves along a lush green beachside, a coconut with a straw and a tiny umbrella was waiting for me in someone’s hands. It was Leah, in a two piece, waving me back to shore. 

I couldn’t help myself from taking in gulp after gulp. I couldn’t stop.

The only reason I came back down was the sound of air coming up the straw, pathetically pulling up whatever was left of my Freezee with wet slaps. To my horror the whole thing was gone, just like that. But that flavor…

In the maze of my thoughts, I decided I had to get another.

“Leah, did you taste it?” I turned to where I remembered leaving her, but all I could find in that place now was dead air, a mangled cup, and a wet floor sign domineering over a puddle of light blue slush. She must’ve stepped away to find Sarah. 

Scanning the rest of the space, I was completely alone. Mike was nowhere to be found, neither was the witch at her panel, which now had a large yellow X taped across it and a handwritten ‘Out of Order’ sign in thick black sharpie marker. My stomach groaned loudly, and I cursed myself as a frigid tingle began to creep up the back of my palette. 

There was something else too. Watching me on the condiment counter beside the thing was a small white paper bag, some roller bites, and another 16 ounces of that baby blue tropic tundra filled to the brim. Ooh, Tropic Tundra sounded good. I’d have to tell the cashier. Written on the side of the cup, an incantation. Three words, enticing the greed within my mortal soul:

On the house!

The distance between me and that cup was covered in record time, barely needing to tell my legs to move before they did. I was upon the offering in an instant, hands grabbing at the items with a ferocity I can’t recall myself having at any other point in my life up until now. Tearing open the lid, I closed my eyes, brought the sweet ambrosia to my lips, and let the flood gates open.

This time, a whole host of things I didn’t taste before began to surface. Was that kiwi? Nutmeg? Spiced cranberries and banana? Bursts of colors accompanied by their flavor profiles exploded on the static canvas in my mind. I couldn’t wait to have another already. Once again, I was lulled back to that perfect place between summer and winter solstice. The warm sun now accompanied an arctic chill. Sheets of ice and pumpkin spice littered sandy snowy pathways through winding palm and pines, pitchers of eggnog sat alongside decadent fruit platters.

Through this the encroaching zap of pain moving up from the back of my mouth started to pull my attention away. It was getting colder. As the brain freeze took hold, I couldn’t stop myself from sitting and sipping. Even as the burn made its way into my nose, I was taking in mouthful after mouthful of 1-11’s finest. Once the brisk stabbing sensation nestled itself in the center of my forehead, I found it impossible to ignore anymore and finally pulled back. Eyes squeezed tight, I shoved a thumb into my mouth and pressed it to the roof. Gelid waves of pain radiated through my skull. Suddenly, the taste in my mouth wasn’t very good at all, and I was freezing, starting to feel something wet on my skin, something beginning to weigh my hair down. My sprawling picturesque paradise receded to a solitary, icy cavern. Unknown, uncertain, and definitely not where we’d started.

As my eyes opened, I was met with whiteout. Dark, rolling clouds of dull grey blanketed the sky whenever I could glimpse it through the whipping snowfall. My thumb fell from my mouth, and despite the cold pain in there, I gulped my last hot breath.

“Run!”

I turned to the sound, or rather where I thought the gargled mesh of phonetic sound had come from. It was impossible to see through the curtains of frigid precipitation. My cheeks burned, nose beginning to drip. The voice was implacable in the moment, I could barely tell up from down until a strong grip found my wrist. My gaze snapped back into focus to find a shadow passing by inches from my head. The snow warped around the sihlouette, and I didn’t have the sense to really make them out. Words in Mike’s voice rang through me.

“Derek! Move, now! We have to move!”

And just like that, we were on the run, moving aimlessly through the snow as I could suddenly make out the sound of hard footfalls somewhere around us. As if I’d undergone a hardware reset, I felt strength find me, and I started to catch up. The clopping faded soon enough, and I was becoming very aware that I couldn’t feel my nose anymore. The heat that had once been radiating off of me left altogether. We were two men running around this frozen wasteland in shorts, sneakers and t-shirts.

I don’t know how much farther we ran for, but eventually Mike’s pace slowed ahead of me, and I followed suit. The blizzard was still in full force, but he clearly had led me to something. Taking a shaky step to his side, I wrapped one arm around myself and used the other to shield my eyes as I followed his gaze out into the gray. About 3 yards from us, barely noticeable in the blizzard, was a dark blue tent, already pitched, extra side flaps flying about in the harsh wind.

“Get in.” He called to me, voice going hoarse as he did.

As told, I found my tired, numb feet trudging on. Needles of searing cold prickled from the tips of my fingers to the soles of my shoes. Every step forward was its own small war, snowflakes kamikaze diving right into my sclera. Shoving my hands under my armpits, I had to keep my head down in order to have any semblance of where I was going. It wasn’t until I could see the side flap of the thing that I knew I’d even been pointed the right way. My head snapped up, and I nearly threw myself through the entrance.

Despite my hope, there was no safety beyond the door.

What I’d thought was extra fabric had actually been the remnants of the back wall, torn through in ragged strips. The entire panel had been destroyed, snow already mounding in the corners that still stood fastened, yet exposed to the cold. Violent chilly gusts made the scraps thrash about the murky sky.

“Where are we?” I asked to the air.

My eyes watered, or maybe it was the snow in my face. Either way, I remembered Mike and shut my eyes against the wind, teeth chattering as I took a hold of myself, trying to save any warmth if there was any left. That’s when the visage of Leah and Sarah entered my mind. If Mike was here with me, could they be too?

“Where’re the girls?” I called. It was hard to hear myself over the wind whistling past me. There was a shuffle, but no response, and I thought to face the entrance. “Mike?”

Instead of being met with my brother, I found the pruned, crinkled face of the woman from the register, but she’d changed. Her eyes had completely clouded over, rolling grey stratus inside glossy snow globes. Bottom jaw now jutting out in an awkward position, too far out, too crooked. The top and bottom didn’t look like they’d ever fit together.

Against the bitter cold, I watched in horror as she began to pull herself into the tent with me. My body began to shake. Her movements were broken, unrehearsed. She twitched in all directions as a single elongated, emaciated arm drew in up to the shoulder. Just as I could see her second hand coming in through the entryway, I heard something cut through the wind.

“Run.”

And I did. There was no feeling, no thoughts that compelled me forward. I wasn’t even sure I would’ve been able to do anything at all if she hadn’t commanded so. Straight out through the makeshift exit, I let my arms assume form, swinging by my sides, and I ran like hell. Legs burning, chest ablaze, I ran, blinded by the heavy snowfall and whipping cold. Jaw hanging, I tried to heave as much air into my lungs as possible to keep from getting tired too quickly. 

Just then, rapid, heavy footfalls sounded out over the cold and I once again felt the pressure to keep moving. 

There was no way to tell what direction I was going, and I was beginning to feel an intense ache in my chest the longer we went. My heart was pounding, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it up. To my surprise, it was getting hot in my tee. I’d lost a shoe at some point too, and the numbness was starting to take a toll. From what I could glimpse with my head down, at some point the skin had started turning blue. I was slowing down. No, no I wasn’t. I couldn’t.

My foot caught on something stiff, and I took a nosedive into the powdery ground. As quick as I could manage, I flipped onto my back and violently wiped at my face until I could see something again, only to find the snow around me blanketed in a deep crimson. I lurched, but it was impossible to turn away.

A mound a bit farther from where I’d fallen gave me confirmation that I’d never seen Mike out here. His torso, headless, still sporting his black tee, jutted out of the pile, a mess of ripped muscle fiber, skin, and viscera. I couldn’t hear the thing anymore, in fact, I couldn’t hear anything. Looking to my feet, I found Mike’s bottom half- or what the clerk had left of it. Blue, red, white, speckled, spotty, blotchy. 

I came back to the image of the cretaceous, disfigured, 1-11 cashier, and quickly looked about my field of view. My body was so warm now, and I began pulling at my shirt. She was nowhere to be seen. Had she lost me?

Leah and Sarah entered my mind again, and as I could feel my heartbeat slow, I knew there was more for me to do. Even if it seemed impossible, I had to at least try.

A better idea crossed my mind. Maybe I could kill it. I was able to run before, so maybe I could get up and fight the thing. My mind conjured the scene- me and the creature, facing off as the two girls find the off switch for this nightmare and we all get off scott free. Mike ends up alive and well and we meet at the lakehouse as planned. I just had to get some strength back.

But, y’know the snow wasn’t so bad anymore. Instead of prickling pain, I was starting to feel warm and tingly. Closing my eyes against the wind and white, I imagined myself laying in a cushiony hammock along that same icy, tropic shore. Here, sunlight hit my skin and the woes of the world began to float along with me. Red lights were going off too. In the back of my mind, something was tugging at me.

Sirens blared through the murk of my thoughts, but I was so comfortable. If I didn’t find help, Leah would surely get hurt too. I was so tired though, and this spot was so comfortable. Maybe a nap here would do me some good, and when I was feeling better I could go.

Suddenly, I felt pressure, and a moment of searing pain made me focus on the scene unfolding before me. The creature towered above, head buried deep within my abdomen. Now, feeling nothing but a cold twinge, I couldn’t help but let out a short, shaky laugh. I didn’t feel it. I’d be okay. When she was finished with me, and I got my rest, I’d get up and get help for the others. We’d be out of here in no time. The 1-11 cashier pulled her head back with what I imagine was my large intestine in her teeth, and I relished in the irony of the situation.

She thought she had the upper hand. Well, I was determined to prove this bitch wrong. All I needed to do was close my eyes for a little while. As they began to flutter, I could once again feel the wretch sink her maw into my flesh. It didn’t matter though. My breaths became deeper as I began to feel a great sense of urgency. I needed to get help, and I would. After she was finished.