Begrudgingly taking time it takes to toss my bag into the passenger seat, I slide behind the wheel and turn the key. The engine purrs happily. I survey the parking lot and back out of the space. Soon fields of towering corn wave from either side of the flat interstate. I marvel at being able to see so far before the horizon appears in the distance. My mind wanders again. When it returns, I check the clock on the dashboard against my watch. Surprisingly, it displays the correct time, which means I am still running ten minutes late for my meeting.
I survey the road. No vehicles appear anywhere within my line of sight, so I push the gas pedal a little harder. The car lurches forward as if it has never exceeded the speed limit by more than five miles per hour. I leave my foot where it is and wait. The car settles down, but I decide not to push my luck.
Thump. Thump. Thump. I tighten my grip on the wheel, prepared to fight what sounds like a flat tire. The wheel stays steady, as does the thumping. I push the hazard button and edge toward the shoulder of the road. Gravel spins up from the tires as I come to a stop so close to a field of corn that I can smell the sweetness of a few ripe ears. I ignore the grumbling in my stomach and step out of the car. I circle it, kicking the tires, confused as my foot bounces back from four firm surfaces.
“Well, that’s weird.” I mutter as I place my hands on my hips and survey the rear tires critically.
As I mull over this peculiarity, the thumping begins anew. Something or someone bangs against the trunk of the car—from the inside. I step closer.
“Is someone in there?”
The only response is more enthusiastic banging. I rub the key between my fingers and ponder my options. Finally, I lean forward and insert the key in the lock, releasing the catch. I open the trunk a crack and peer inside, expecting the trunk to fly out into my face at any moment. The banging continues, but without enough momentum to open the trunk. I lift it higher, letting in more light. Multiple pairs of oblong eyes gleam back at me in the sliver of sun. I open the trunk a little further and take a better look.
Long ears. Twitching noses. Protruding teeth. Bunnies?
I gently close the lid and lean against it. Who would fill the trunk of a rental car with bunnies? And then leave them there? And why? I shake away the questions and get back in the car. I’ll play amateur detective after my meeting—if I make it in time. I sigh and pull back out onto the road, risking the high speed lurch again.
Somehow, I pull into the conference center with a few minutes to spare. I grab my purse and race into the building, scanning the map at the entrance. I find the right room. I answer questions by rote. My mind keeps wandering to the strange find in my trunk. If I don’t get the job, can I sue the rental company for fouling things up with their wrongly assigned rental car and its mystery cargo?
As I stalk across the parking lot, I pull my phone out and scroll through the recent numbers until I find the car rental agency. I stab the screen maliciously and wait for the call to connect. A chipper voice on the other end inquires how she can help me.
“I have a problem with my rental car.”
“What is the nature of your problem?”
“You gave me the wrong car and the trunk is full of bunnies.”
“Excuse me?”
“The trunk of my rental car is full of bunnies.”
Silence answers me from the other end of the line.
“I expect some sort of compensation when I return the car.”
“We check all of our cars. If the trunk is full of bunnies, you put them there.”
As I near the car, a faint aroma wafts out at me from the trunk. “I think their output will verify that they were in the car before I got the key.”
She resumes her chipper speech, after a moment of silence. “I will alert the manager that you want to speak to him. When can we expect you?”
“An hour if all goes well.” I glance at my watch.
“We look forward to helping you. Drive safe.” She hangs up before I can say more.
As I pull into the rental lot, I decide to park right outside. Pulling up to the entrance, I see two men arguing just inside the double glass doors. One wears a suit and tie while the other seems ready for a gala, decked out in a tux with long tails and a black bowtie. Their attention turns my way as the car jerks to a halt. The man in the tux waves his arms excitedly toward the car as he barrels through the door. The other follows in his wake. I open my door.
“There must have been a computer error, Mr. Magnifique, but the car is here safe and sound.”
“If one of my little darlings is hurt…” The man’s tirade dissolves into a mix of French and English too confusing to follow as he races to the back of the car and begins cooing at the trunk. After a moment, he turns to me. “Le clé.”
“Um.” I say, glancing between him and the man in the suit.
“The key. The key.” The man shouts as he takes a few steps toward me.
I put the other man between us.
“Sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am. I am Mr. Hiker, the manager of this branch of Reliable Rentals.” He holds out his hand as if to shake mine.
I shove my hand further into my pocket. He frowns and turns his attention to his other irate customer.
“Please be patient, sir. You shouldn’t have left anything, particularly live animals in the car when you returned it. Even if you planned to rent the same car the next day.”
“I could not take them with me. I reserved the car.” The man blustered.
“But that only meant it would be available the next day. Not that it would not be used again before then.” He held up his hand to stop further protests and turned to me. “Maureen is prepared to provide you with a full refund and a voucher for a free day rental if you will just give me the key and go inside.”
I start to pull the key from my pocket and pause. “If I give you the key…”
He raises his hand to me this time. “I promise you will receive the full refund and the voucher. Then I can resolve Mr. Magnifique’s concerns.”
As the thumping began again, I pull the key from my pocket and hand it to Mr. Hiker.
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